d, tell me, and who good?"

And Kundry spake: "Thy mother, she was good.
She grieved for thee, but now she grieves no more.
For as I lately rode along that way
Coming with haste from far Arabia,
I saw her dying, and she spake to me,
And sent her blessing to her darling boy."

At which the boy with sudden childish rage:
"My mother dead! and sent a grace by thee,--
Thou liest, woman! Take thy false words back!"
And still impetuous and unreasoning,
Fighting the facts of life in rebel mood
(A child of sudden temper, guileless heart),
He seized her, struggling with a furious might
To make her unsay what her lips had told.
Perhaps he might have harmed her in his wrath,
Had not the aged Gurnemanz come near,
And drawn him back, with the sharp-spoken words:
"Impetuous child, restrain thy violence!
This woman harms thee not. She speaks the truth!
Kundry has seen it, for she never lies."

And at the word, the lad grew calm again,
And silent stood with still and stony stare,
Until his heart broke out in woe afresh
(A guileless child, not knowing strong control),
And he was seized with trembling, and he swooned.

Then Kundry, bearing naught of hate or spite,
Ran to a pebbly brook that flowed near by,
And brought cold water in an ancient horn,
Sprinkled the lad, and gave him some to drink.

And Gurnemanz, with kindly look at her,
Spake out: "Thy deed is worthy of the Grail,--
A cup of water fails not of reward;
And sin is conquered by the deeds of good."

But Kundry muttered still: "I do no good!"
Then in still lower tone to her own self:
"I do no good, I only long for rest.
O weary me! Would I might never wake!
Yet dare I sleep? It means calamity
To those whom I in vain have tried to serve.
Resist I cannot! Yea, the time has come!
I feel the awful spell upon mine eyes,--
Slumber I must! Slave of that evil one
Who wields his black art from the mountain height.
Sleep, sleep, to sleep! I must! I must! I must!"
With this she crept away and laid her down
Within a thicket of the forest woods.

Meanwhile the litter of the King came back
With all its retinue of gallant knights.
And Gurnemanz held up the tottering lad,
Still sorrowing at the sad news come to him,
And slowly led him toward the castle gate,
While softly speaking to him graciously:
"See how our King Amfortas from the bath
Is carried by his loving servitors.
The sun is rising high. The time has come
When we shall celebrate our holy Feast.
There will I