Parsifal | Page 6

ecstasy, flooding the soul with
overpowering thoughts of the divine sacrifice and the mystery of
unfathomable love.
* * * * *
The hall of Montsalvat empties. Gurnemanz strides excitedly up to
Parsifal, who stands stupefied with what he has seen--
"Why standest thou silent? Knowest thou what thine eyes have seen?"
The "guileless one" shakes his head. "Nothing but a fool!" exclaims
Gurnemanz, angrily; and, seizing Parsifal by the shoulder, he pushes
him roughly out of the hall, with:
"Be off! look after thy geese, And henceforth leave our swans in
peace."

The Grail vision had, then, taught the "guileless one" nothing. He could
not see his mission--he was as yet unawakened to the deeper life of the
spirit; tho blameless and unsullied, he was still the "natural man."
Profound truth! that was not first which was spiritual, but that which
was natural; before Parsifal wins a spiritual triumph, he must be
spiritually tried; his inner life must be deepened and developed, else he
can never read aright the message of the Grail.
The life of God in the spirit comes only when the battle for God in the
heart has been fought and won.
Fare forth, thou guileless one! thou shalt yet add to the simplicity of the
dove the wisdom of the serpent. Thou art innocent because ignorant;
but thou shalt be weighed anon in the balance and not be found wanting;
and then shalt thou reconquer the holy spear lost in Sin, rewon in Purity
and Sacrifice, and be to the frail Amfortas the chosen savior for whom
he waits.
* * * * *
The foregoing events occupied about an hour and a quarter. When the
curtain fell the vast audience broke up in silence.
The air outside was cool and balmy. In the distance lay the city of
Bayreuth, with the tower of the Alte Schloss and the old church
standing up gray against the distant Bavarian hills. All around us lay
the pine woods, broken by the lawns and avenues that encircle the
theater and embower it in a secluded world of its own--even as the
Palace of the Grail was shut off from the profane world. Here, indeed,
is truly the Montsalvat of the modern drama--a spot purified and sacred
to the highest aims and noblest manifestations of Art.
In about an hour the Spear motive was the signal blown on the wind
instruments outside, and I took my seat for the second act.

Act II

A restless, passion-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