compels her, much against her wishes, to execute his will.
Just as Parsifal, overcoming all resistance, drives away
the guards of the castle and springs up on the ramparts,
the magician waves his wand. He and his tower sink from view,
and a beautiful garden appears, in which lovely damsels flit
excitedly about in very scanty attire. After a few moments
spent in motionless admiration of the scene before him, Parsifal
springs down into the garden, where he is immediately surrounded
by the fair nymphs. They pull him this way and that, tease and
cajole him, and use all their wiles to attract his attention
and win his admiration. Seeing him very indifferent to their
unadorned charms, a few of them hastily retire into a bower,
where they don gay flower costumes, in which they soon appear
before him, winding in and out in the gay mazes of the dance.

Their youthful companions immediately follow their example,
and also try to beguile Parsifal by their flower hues, their
kisses and caresses, but he stands stolidly by until Kundry,
who is now no longer a terrible and haggard witch, but a fair
enchantress reclining upon a bed of roses, calls him to her side.

As in a dream, Parsifal obeys her summons, while the flower
nymphs flit away to their respective bowers. Wonderingly he now
inquires how Kundry knows his name, and again hears her relate
how she was present at his birth, watched over his childhood,
and witnessed the death of his mother. At this mention the
youth is again overcome with grief. To comfort him, Kundry,
the enchantress, tenderly embraces him, and lavishes soft
words upon him, but all her caresses have no effect, except to
awaken in his heart a sudden miraculous comprehension of all
he has seen. Love is suddenly born in his heart, but it is not
the evil passion which Kundry had striven to bring to life,
but the pure, unselfish feeling which enables one human being
to understand and sympathise with another. He now knows that
Amfortas yielded to passion's spell, and in punishment suffered
the spear wound in his side, and realizes that he alone could
have given him relief. Moved to sudden indignation by his
compassion, he flings Kundry's caressing arms aside, promising,
however, to help her win her own redemption, if she will only
tell him how to save Amfortas, and will reveal who wielded the
spear which dealt the fatal wound. But Kundry, who is acting
now entirely under Klingsor's influence, and not by her own