n-tossed prelude. The "Grail" subject distorted, the
"Spear" motive thrust in discordant, the "Faith and Love" theme
fluttering like a wounded dove in pain, fierce bursts of passion, wild
shocks of uncontrolled misery, mingling with the "carnal joy" music of
Klingsor's magic garden and the shuddering might of his alchemy.

The great magician, Klingsor, is seen alone in his dungeon palace--harsh
contrast to the gorgeous halls of Montsalvat. Here all is built of the
live rock, an impenetrable fastness, the home of devilish might and
terrible spells.

Klingsor is aware of the coming struggle, and he means to be ready for
it. He owns the sacred spear wrested from Amfortis; he even aspires to
win the Grail; he knows the "guileless one" is on his way to wrest that
spear from him. His only hope is in paralyzing the fool by his
enchantments as he paralyzed Amfortis, and the same woman will serve his
turn.

"Kundry!" The time is come, the spells are woven--blue vapors rise, and
in the midst of the blue vapors the figure of the still sleeping Kundry
is seen. She wakes, trembling violently; she knows she is again under
the spell she abhors--the spell to do evil, the mission to corrupt.
With a shuddering scream she stands before her tormentor, denying his
power, loathing to return to her vile mission, yet returning, as with a
bitter cry she vanishes from his presence.

Parsifal has invaded Klingsor's realm; the evil knights have fled before
his prowess, wounded and in disorder. Kundry is commissioned to meet the
guileless youth in the enchanted garden, and, all other allurements
failing, to subdue him by her irresistible fascinations and hand him
over to Klingsor.

In a moment the scenery lifts, and a garden of marvelous beauty and
extent lies before us. The flowers are all of colossal dimensions--huge
roses hang in tangled festoons, the cactus, the lily, the blue-bell,
creepers, and orchids of enormous size and dazzling color wave in
midair, and climb the aromatic trees.

On a bright hill appears Parsifal, standing bewildered by the light and
loveliness around him. Beautiful girls dressed like flowers, and hardly
distinguishable from them at first, rush in, bewailing their wounded and
disabled knights, but, on seeing Parsifal, fall upon their new prey,
and, surrounding him, sing verse after verse of the loveliest ballet
music, while trying to embrace him, and quarreling with each other for
the privilege.

About that wonde