But Venus only smiled a dreamy smile and spoke in soft whispers of the charm of her domain. And the dancers circled about in a maddening whirl, ever faster and faster. The odor of the strange flowers became still heavier. Sparkling points of light gleamed among the shadows. A mysterious blue lake appeared in the hazy distance, and misty clouds of rose and gold floated in the air. But Tannhaeuser still remembered. He loathed the never-ending delights; the ceaseless ease and rest; the songs, the odors, the mist. Ah! for but a sight of Heaven's clear blue, its clouds and sun of noonday, its moon and stars of night; the changing round of seasons, seed time and harvest; the mingled joys and pains; and work, thrice-blessed work! Tannhaeuser took up his harp and sang to Venus once more. The strings rang with the vigor of his touch; his voice soared high in heart-stirring refrain. He promised that as long as he had life he would sing the praises of Venus. Wherever he might roam, her name--and hers alone--would bring a song to his lips. As her champion would he fare forth upon the earth again. All this he promised, if she would only set him free. Anger overwhelmed the goddess--but she hesitated no longer. Let him spread her fame and name through the upper world that had banished her! With one sweep of her arms she broke the chains of enchantment that bound Tannhaeuser fast. Crying,-- "If all hope is lost, return to me!" she bade him depart. At that moment a terrific crash rent the air. It seemed as though the earth had been burst asunder. The mists, the gleaming figures, the cave, disappeared; and-- Tannhaeuser found himself lying on a grassy knoll in a sunlit valley. On one side was the black and gloomy Horselburg; on the other a lofty peak crowned by the Wartburg, stately, grand, majestic, as of yore. Flowers bloomed all about; the sky was serene and beautiful; birds sang; a gentle breeze swayed the trees. From the cliff above came the sound of a pipe. A young shepherd was watching his flock there, and he sang a tender little song, all sweetness and melody. The simple beauty of it, the purity, touched Tannhaeuser's heart, and as he listened his eyes filled with tears. Suddenly the sonorous tones of men's voices filled the air. Then down the winding pathway and through the valley came the tramp, tramp, tramp, of many feet. And to the solemn strains of a song of prayer a band of pilgrims passed slowly by on the way to Rome to seek pardon for their sins. The little shepherd bared his head until the last pilgrim had passed him by. Then, waving his cap, he shouted: "God speed, God speed! Say one prayer for me!"