As the king sinks down exhausted the knights murmur in a low tone: "Let a harmless fool only, knowing by compassion, await him—him whom I have chosen. Such is the revelation; await with hope, and this day officiate." "Uncover the Grail," exclaims Titurel. The king has raised himself in silence, he opens the golden shrine, and draws from it the ancient relic, the crystal cup in which Joseph of Arimathea received the blood of Christ; it is the miraculous Grail! A twilight dimness has invaded the hall, a single ray coming from above falls upon the Grail, and illumines it with a constantly-growing glory. From the cupola's heights children's voices are heard: "Take my blood in the name of our love! Take my body in remembrance of me."
They add: "By compassion and love the Saviour once changed the bread and wine of the supreme repast into the blood which he has shed, and the body which he has sacrificed. The blood and flesh of the sacrifice the Redeemer whom you glorify changes to-day into this wine which flows for you and this bread which you eat."
Then the knights: "Take the bread, transform it without fear into strength and valor of body. Faithful even unto death, intrepid in suffering, accomplish the Saviour's works. Take this wine, transform it anew into life's burning blood, to fight, united in fraternal fidelity, with joyous courage." All rise and exchange the kiss of peace. And the voices from above cry: "Blessed in the faith! Blessed in love! Blessed in love! Blessed in the faith!"
Parsifal has watched this scene with haggard eyes; but it has only left his mind in a profound stupor. Gurnemanz, disappointed in his hope, takes him by the arm and says: "Go, take thy way thither. Thou art but a harmless fool. But Gurnemanz counsels thee for thy future to leave the swans in peace. Seek rather after geese, thou gosling." He pushes Parsifal out, slams the door, and while he follows the knights the curtain descends.
SECOND ACT.
In the second act we find ourselves in the castle of the magician Klingsor, situate upon the confines of Spanish Arabia. The scene represents the empty interior of an embattled tower. Along the walls narrow steps only project, ascending toward the battlements, or flat ledges of rocks. Klingsor, the enchanter, is seated upon one of these before a metallic mirror; he gazes intently into its depths, and in its magic shadows sees Parsifal advancing, joyous and thoughtless, drawn by a charm toward the enchanted castle. Klingsor well knows that this is the redeemer promised to the King of the Grail; if, however, the magician can succeed in drawing him into the snares of the flesh before the young madcap will have realized the high mission for which he is chosen, Amfortas's safety is at an end. Klingsor will employ all his cunning and the most powerful seductions to ruin the pure and artless youth. Leaning over the tower's gloomy depths, he burns aromatics, whose smoke ascends in bluish clouds; then, with mysterious gestures, he pronounces a formula of incantation: "Come hither! obey thy master, rouse thyself at his call, thou, the nameless and primeval devil, rose of hell who wast formerly Herodias; rise, rise toward thy master, obey him who holds thee in absolute control."
Kundry appears, slowly rising from the shadows. Like a creature rudely awakened from a profound sleep, she utters a horrible cry of fear, which little by little becomes extinguished in a feeble moan of distress. It is she, it is the power of her beauty which should cause the ingenious youth to fall into the magicians power. Is it not in her arms that the King of the Grail forgot his holy duties? Is it not on her account that he now suffers and writhes in the cruel flame of guilty desire? In vain the temptress struggles and attempts to escape from the power which holds her in dominion; the impure fires which burn within her will force her to yield. Good and evil tumultuously dispute the possession of this soul, already several times incarnate. Like a feminine Ahasuerus, she formerly insulted Christ, and is condemned to be born again ceaselessly in sin's suffering. In vain she aspires to deliverance, she inevitably falls back again into the snares of the flesh. He who would resist the enchantress might perhaps save her; but before her beauty all are weak, all damn themselves with her. He, Klingsor, holds her in his power, and knows how to rouse her from the lethargic sleep, into which he plunges her at will.
"For me alone, thy seductions are powerless," he says to her.
"Ah! ah!" she cries with a harsh laugh, "would'st thou be chaste?"
"What dost thou ask, cursed woman?" shrieks Klingsor in a rage. "Oh, cruel torment! It is thus that Satan scoffs me because I formerly struggled for holiness; cruel torment, torment of unsubdued desire, hellish urgency of horrible instincts, upon which I have imposed the silence of death. Does he laugh now, and does he jeer at me by thy month, thou bride of the devil? Beware, such scorn and raillery one has expiated already,—he who once cast me from him, proud in the strength of his sanctity; his race is to-day in my power, and the guardian of the holy of holies must languish un-redeemed. Soon, I think, I shall myself watch over the Grail! Ha! ha! he pleased thee, this Amfortas, the hero whom I assigned to thee for thy joy."