rciful, and let her weep for a single hour upon his pure
bosom--for a single hour to be his. But the answer comes like the
voice of an avenging God, terribly stern and annihilating:

"To all eternity thou wouldst be damned with me,
If for one hour I should forget my mission."

At last she seeks, like the serpent in Paradise, to allure him with
the promise that in her arms he will attain to godhood. He remains,
however, true to himself. Roused now to furious rage, she curses him.
He shall never find Amfortas, but shall wander aimlessly. Klingsor
then appears, and puts his power to the utmost trial by brandishing
his sacred lance, but Parsifal's pure faith banishes the false charm.
The lance remains suspended above his head. Kundry sinks down crying
aloud. The magic garden is turned to a desert. Parsifal calls out:

"Thou knowest where alone thou canst find me again."

That true womanly love roused for the first time in her will also show
this desolate heart the path to eternal love. And Parsifal had finally
shown her, the pitiable one, the only thing he could--pity!

The last act takes us once more into the domain of the sacred Grail
which Parsifal since then has been longingly seeking. Gurnemanz, now
grown to an old man, lives as a hermit near a forest spring. From out
the hedges he hears a groan. "So mournful a tone comes not from the
beast," he says, familiar as he is with the lamenting sounds of sinful
humanity. It is Kundry, whom he carries completely benumbed out of the
thicket. This fierce and fearful woman had not been seen nor thought
of for a long time. Her wildness now however lies only in the
accustomed serpent-like appearance, otherwise she gives forth but that
one cry "to serve! to serve!" Whoever has not comprehended the highest
and most actual elements of our life when they assert themselves, is
condemned to silence. Only by silent acts and conduct can she attest
the growing inner participation in the higher and nobler human deeds.
She enters the hut close by and busies herself. When she returns with
the water pitcher she perceives a knight, clad in sombre armor, who
approaches with hesitating steps and drooping head. Gurnemanz greets
him kindly but admonishes him to lay aside his weapons in the sacred
domain and above all on this the most sacred of days--Good Friday.
With that he recognizes him. It is Parsifal, now a mature and serious
man. "In paths of error and of suffering have I co