Nor was he mistaken, for Kundry (who could assume any shape) transformed herself into a woman of such surpassing beauty that Amfortas felt his senses leave him as he gazed upon her. It was in vain that the young King struggled to maintain his integrity and to fight against the evil influence that closed so surely around him; for Kundry never relaxed her seductions until he was locked in her embrace, in the snares of guilty passion.
Soon, Klingsor, stealing unawares upon his victim, as he lay thus entranced, seized the sacred spear and stabbed him in the side with it; and then, with a triumphant laugh, he rushed back to his Enchanted Castle, bearing the holy relic with him.
The wounded King was carried back by his faithful knights to the Sanctuary, full of remorse for his sin and doomed to suffer agonies of pain for many long, weary years; for the wound inflicted by the evil sorcerer throbbed and burned unceasingly, and could never be healed until the holy spear should be reclaimed and brought back to the Sanctuary, and the unhappy Amfortas remained helpless and agonised in mind and body, with a wound that would not close.
Once, as the King lay groaning in the Sanctuary, the angels of the Holy Grail were heard proclaiming that the sacred spear could alone be regained by "The Blameless Fool," one who, simple and pure, unacquainted with worldly knowledge, should, from pure, whole-hearted sympathy with the sufferer's terrible agony, recognise the woes of suffering humanity, and by such loving pity bring redemption. This, then, was the one hope held out, and the sublime deed to be performed; and, after many long years of woe, the deliverer of Amfortas appeared.
One early dawn, Gurnemanz, one of the oldest of the Grail Knights, was resting with his Esquires in a glade within the sacred domains, waiting for the arrival of Amfortas, who was to be carried, in accordance with his usual daily custom, to bathe in the lake near by, that its soothing waters might ease his ever-burning wound for a short time; and as the first rays of the rising sun shone forth, the solemn morning bell of the Sanctuary was heard calling all to their devotions.
At the sound of the bell, the watchers in the glade knelt reverently to offer up their morning prayer; and as they rose once more to their feet they were joined by other knights.
As the newcomers spoke sadly with old Gurnemanz of the perpetual sufferings of the King, a wild female figure was seen riding furiously towards them; who, upon approaching the knights, flung herself from the foaming steed and hastened to them, bearing in her hand a small crystal vial.
This was none other than Kundry, the witch-maiden, who, when temporarily freed from the evil influence of the sorcerer, Klingsor, would serve the Knights of the Grail as message-bearer, and, by the performance of extraordinary feats of endurance, would seem as though striving to atone by such penances for the evil deeds she did when unable to resist her sinful nature and the commands of her unholy master. She was well-known to the knights, some of whom, however, regarded her with scorn and suspicion, knowing her to be a sinner; but Gurnemanz was always kind and gentle with her, and would often reprove his companions for their hostile attitude, declaring that though she might be under an evil curse, yet she did penance by serving the Grail, and that when she was absent for long, some misfortune was sure to happen to them.
Kundry now appeared as a wild, half-savage creature, clad in a fantastic robe fastened by a girdle of snake-skins, and with long flowing locks of black hair and piercing black eyes, sometimes wildly flashing but more usually fixed and glassy; and having travelled far in search of a healing balsam for the wounded King, she handed the vial to Gurnemanz, roughly refusing all thanks.
Amfortas, groaning with pain, now appeared in the glade in a litter borne by a number of noble knights, and having received Kundry's balsam from Gurnemanz, he thanked her for her gift, although he knew it could afford relief but for a few hours. He was then carried forward to the lake; and soon afterwards—as Gurnemanz remained lost in his sad thoughts, standing beside the now prostrate Kundry, who had flung herself exhausted on the ground—loud cries of indignation were suddenly heard, and as the old knight looked around, he saw a wild swan slowly sink to the ground and die.