Lenora

A terrifying tale from the legends of ballad poetry. It enjoys great fame in world literature. It has been translated into every language and has inspired great artists to marvelous paintings and to some of the most powerful pieces of music.

At the break of dawn 'Lenora' started up, fleeing from troubled dreams, asking herself: 'O Wilhelm, my husband! Has death struck you down and fate's arrow found its mark in you? Or has passion led you astray, so that you have betrayed my covenant and broken your pledge to me? Can your absence stretch out longer than this!'

For on the very night of the wedding, the husband had ridden away in the train of King Frederick to the field of battle at the city of Prague, and from that time he had sent her no word of his welfare.

But the two adversaries, the King and the Empress, grew weary of these bloody battles; their fury subsided little by little, and at last they concluded peace. And both armies turned back, homeward bound, amid the blowing of trumpets and the ringing of cymbals, crowned with garlands of fresh green leaves.

The roads and bridges surged from every quarter with unending streams of young and old hurrying out to meet them. How many a son and wife cried out at the sight of their provider: Thanks be to God! And every betrothed girl threw herself into her betrothed's arms, murmuring: Welcome! All except 'Lenora' — alas! She waited long, and in vain, for the kiss of reunion; then she went scouring the ranks up and down in every direction, questioning the returning men, but not one quenched her thirst with news of her beloved husband...

And now they were all gone. She flung herself upon the ground, tearing loose her hair and writhing, dazed and raving.

Her mother rushed to her: 'God keep you! What has befallen you, my poor child?' — and clasped her to her breast.

— Oh mother, mother, he is dead! Dead! Perish the world and everything in it. There is no mercy with God. O woe! O woe is me!

— May God be your help and pardon you! My child, entreat the Lord of the heavens. Whatever He does in this is for the best. He will not withhold His succor from us.

— Oh mother, mother! You are deluded. God has forsaken me. What good did all the prayers I offered do? What good are they to me today?

— Lord, have mercy! Whoever knows God with the knowledge of certainty is certain that He does not forsake His servants. The mystery of the holy sacrament will wipe away all your pains, by His leave.

— Oh mother! How can a sacrament bring the dead back to life...?

— Gently, my child. How do you know? Perhaps he betrayed your love and tied the bonds of intimacy with some other girl. Forget him, then, and turn away from his memory. Come now! God will not grant him a good end. His abode will be hell — and a wretched fate it is!

— Oh mother, mother, what is dead is dead. What we have lost, we have lost for all eternity. Nothing remains for me but death for my watering place.

Would that I had never been born, had never been anything at all! O flame of my life, go out — go out in the dreadful darkness of nothingness. There is no mercy with God. Ah, how wretched I am!

— Lord, have mercy! Do not call my daughter to account for what has escaped her lips; she does not know what she is saying. Do not reckon it up against her as sins and offenses. And you, my child, forget the cares of earth and remember God and the bliss of heaven. A bridegroom still remains for you in the heavens.

— Oh mother, what is bliss? Mother, what is hell? Bliss is wherever Wilhelm is, and hell is wherever he is not. Go out, O flame of my life, in the dreadful darkness of nothingness. There is no mercy with God. Ah, how wretched I am!

Thus the fit of unbridled despair split her heart and rent her soul, as she railed against divine Providence and heaped reproaches upon it. And so she remained, beating her breast in grief and terror and wringing her hands in pain and anguish, until the sun sank away into the unseen and the shining stars stepped forth into the vault of the sky.

But... what sound is this, in the depth of night, outside the house? Tap! Tap! Tap! Like the fall of a horse's hooves... Then it is as if a rider dismounts, and the clink of his weapons is heard... And now he is climbing the stair... Hush, hush... The bell rings a gentle ring... Then a gentle voice speaks through the door:

— Ho! Ho! Open, my fair young girl! Are you waking or sleeping? Lost in joy, or choking on tears?

— What! Wilhelm! Is it you? At this late hour of the night! I have been awake, weeping... alas! How I have suffered!... And from where do you come, riding your horse?

— We mount our horse only at midnight. I have come from the farthest reaches of Bohemia. That is the reason I have reached you so late — to carry you away with me.

— But, Wilhelm! Will you not come in here first? For I hear the wind whistling in the forest...

— Let the wind whistle in the forest, my fair young girl; what is the whistling of the wind to us? My horse paws the ground with his hooves, and the spur rings at his flanks; it is not possible for me to stay here. Come, put on your shoes, Lenora, and come, mount behind me on the horse's back, for before us lie a hundred leagues to cross before we reach our abode.

— Alas! How would you have us cross a hundred leagues tonight to reach our abode? Listen — these strokes of the bell are even now tolling midnight.

— See! See! The moon is bright and shining... and how swift we are on the night journey, we ghosts. I wager I shall bring you there this very night.

— Tell me then, where is your abode, and what is your wedding bed like?

— Far. Very far from here... still, damp, narrow; it is made of six large boards and two of smaller size.

— And is there room in it for me?

— For us both. So come, Lenora. Mount behind me on the horse's back, for the wedding feast is prepared, and the guests are awaiting us.

So the girl put on her shoes and hastened out, and leaped up behind on the horse, and wound two arms white as lilies about the rider she loved; and the horse sprang off at a gallop, devouring the ground. The beat of his hooves thundered. Horse and rider were nearly out of breath, and the pebbles struck sparks beneath them.

Ah! How swiftly the meadows, the woods, and the farms flew past, right and left, as they charged! How loudly the bridges rattled beneath them!

— Are you afraid, my beloved? The moon is bright and shining... Hurrah! Such is the speed of ghosts. Do you fear the ghosts of the dead?

— No... but what have you to do with the dead? Leave them in peace... But what is this din, and these chants? And where are those flocks of ravens heading? Hush!... Those are the strokes of a bell, and these are funeral chants.

— It is a dead man of ours, to be buried.

The funeral drew near, and the chants rose, sending back echoes like hoarse croaking along the ponds and swamps.

— After midnight you shall bury the corpse, attended with wailing and mournful chants. As for me, I am carrying off my wife, and I invite you all to the wedding feast. Come, chanter, you and your choir; come forward and sing out the hymn of the bridal procession. And you, priest, come bless our marriage.

At that the wailing and the chanting ceased... the coffin vanished, and the funeral procession fell in behind the bridal pair, answering the invitation... Hurrah! They press hard upon the horse's heels.

And the horse sprang off at a gallop, devouring the ground, and the beat of his hooves thundered... horse and rider nearly out of breath, and the pebbles striking sparks beneath them.

Ah! How swiftly the meadows, the woods, and the farms flew past, right and left, as they charged — and how swiftly flew the villages, the hamlets, and the towns!

— Are you afraid, my beloved? The moon is bright and shining... Hurrah! Such is the speed of ghosts. Do you fear the ghosts of the dead?

— Ah, what have you to do with the dead? Leave them in peace.

— Look! Look! Do you see, beside those gallows, phantoms moving, fine as air, silvered by the light of the moon and shown plain to the eye? They are dancing around the torture wheel. Ho, you filthy, ill-starred wretches! Come, follow me, and dance at my wedding celebration... We are going to the splendid wedding feast.

And the whole troop rushed after them, jostling along like the rustling of wind in dry leaves; and the horse sped on, devouring the ground... horse and rider nearly out of breath, and the pebbles striking sparks beneath them.

Ah! How swiftly everything flew — everything the moonlight revealed around them!... How swiftly the Bear and the stars streamed past above their heads!

— Are you afraid, my beloved? The moon is bright and shining... Hurrah! Such is the speed of ghosts...

— Ah, my Lord! What have you to do with the dead? Leave them in peace.

— Bear up, my black steed! I seem to hear the cock crowing, announcing that light is about to break, and in a little while the hourglass will have emptied out what is in it... I feel the breezes of morning... On, on, my steed!... We are near, we are near the end of our journey... Our wedding bed will be revealed to you... How swift are the ghosts... We have arrived.

And giving his horse free rein, he dashed at a great iron gate and struck it a light stroke with his whip; the bolts flew apart and the gate swung open on both its leaves with a grinding shriek, and the horse shot like a meteor, carrying its master in among crowded graves that showed themselves under the moonlight on every side.

Here — O horror! — in that very instant a terrifying portent came to pass: the rider's cloak fell away, shred by shred, like carded wool. Of his head nothing remained but a veined skull; and his body turned to a skeleton, bearing an hourglass at its belt and gripping a scythe.

And the black horse reared up in fury and blew out sparks. Then, all of a sudden, it sank and vanished into the depths of the earth; and shrieks upon shrieks came pouring down from the quarters of the sky; and groans upon groans rose up from the graves beneath the layers of earth.

Then Lenora's heart gave one beat that carried her over from life to death.

And the spirits circled around her under the light of the moon, and danced as they chanted: 'Patience! Patience! However pain may break your heart and crack your very core, never contend against the Lord of the heavens. Here you have surrendered your body — may God pardon your soul.'