entional that only when rendered in the conventional operatic
manner does it sound and appear impressive. It becomes, when done in
this manner, a kind of dance, for towards the finish all the crowd
should form in long lines and go twining about in a ballet figure. In
this opening chorus of knights and retainers in the Second Act (scene
ii) the musical inspiration is intense; but words are repeated as
irrationally as in a Handel oratorio chorus; and the same is the case
in the bridal procession music. Wagner still had a hankering after
imposing spectacle and brilliant choral writing. That bridal
procession and chorus are, of course, supremely beautiful music: music
and spectacle were aimed at and achieved, not music and drama, in the
later Wagnerian sense.

The scene of the interruption of the procession first by Ortrud and
then by Frederick has always seemed to me superfluous as well as
stagey. The whole thing is pure melodrama of the kind that used to be
popular until a very few years ago; and the music is as melodramatic
as the two incidents. The scene is far too long, and is thus rendered
doubly nonsensical. Only a few minutes before, the Herald has
announced the King's decree: any one harbouring either of the
offenders "will share his [it ought to be their] doom with life and
limb." Yet the offenders themselves are allowed to break up an orderly
procession and to hurl angry diatribes at the very people they have
been banned for seeking to injure. For many minutes Ortrud, encouraged
by a furious orchestra, pours forth a stream of insult directed at
Lohengrin and Elsa: she is not immediately seized and carried off to
be tortured: the bystanders utter a few exclamations, and leave Elsa
to reply for herself. When the king and Lohengrin enter they content
themselves with gentle remonstrances: even Frederick draws from them
only dignified if somewhat scornful protests. There has been some
other rather futile business: a few conspirators planning to support
Frederick in attacking not only Lohengrin, but the king. The flower of
a loyal army look on at all this and go on their way, leaving
Frederick free to make an attempt on Lohengrin's life in the third
Act. Again I emphasise a point because it reveals exactly how far
Wagner's art had got at this period. Well might he feel it necessary,
before proceeding to other masterpieces, to discover where he stood,
what was his ideal, and how he might attain it. For, observe, he
wan