Thou canst not force me to the hateful deed."
But Klingsor answered: "Yea, thou shalt, thou must.
I am thy master and I have the power.
Thy charms and woes are nothing unto me.
Laugh at me, if you will. I have the power!
Yea, I remember all the days of yore,--
That once I sought the holier, happier life,
Within the service of the Holy Grail;
But it was mad ambition, desperate wish,
And thou didst quench it for me, devil's-queen,
And drown it in thy hellish arts of love.
But that is past. Now thou art but my slave.
And Titurel, who scorned me at the gates,
And all his knights with their proud King Amfortas,
Through thy dark wiles I ruined utterly.
And in my hand I hold their sacred Spear
And soon shall have their shining Holy Grail.
Remember now to use thy wiles again
As thou didst love Amfortas to his shame."

But Kundry cried: "O misery and shame!
That e'en their King should be so weak with me,
And all men weak. O hateful, hateful curse
That ruins them and me in sin together!
O for the sleep of death to end all this!"

And Klingsor then: "Perhaps thy wish is near,
For he who can defy thee, sets thee free.
Go tempt the guileless boy, and win thy wish."

But Kundry answered still: "I will not tempt him!"

Then Klingsor: "Yea, thou must! It is my will.
For this I wakened thee. And fair is he.
See, from my window I can watch him come.
He scales the ramparts like a hero born.
This trumpet I will blow and wake the guards.
Ho! warders of the gates and walls! to arms!
A foe is near!... List to the clash of swords!
How my deluded vassals swarm the walls
To guard my castle and the maidens here--
Bewitching creatures fashioned by my art!
Behold! the guileless lad is not afraid!
He fights with bold Sir Ferris, wrests a sword,
And flashes it with fury in their midst."

And as he fought, Kundry laughed loud and long,
And now she groaned in awful agony,
Then with a sudden shriek was lost to sight.

Still Klingsor spake: "How ill his fiery zeal
Agrees with the weak spirit of these knights.
Wounded in arm and limb, they yield, they fly,
And carry off a multitude of scars.
But what care I, you puny, craven race?
Would that the weak knights of the Holy Grail
Might rise in wrath and slay each other thus!
How proudly stands the youth upon the walls!
How red the roses in his cheeks are laughing!
And how amazed he is, like some sweet child,
To see this wondrous garden at his feet!
Ho! Kundry! Hast thou gone? I thought