king is praying for the mercy of deliverance
through death, when, from the high dome, the words rain softly of
the promise of redemption--through the Fool. Recovering courage,
Amfortas proceeds with the rite. While he kneels in prayer before
the Chalice, which young acolytes have taken from the shrine and
reverently uncovered, a mysterious darkness gathers over all. A
ray of light suddenly falls through this, upon the Chalice, which
begins softly to glow, and brightens to a deep luminous purple-red.
Amfortas lifts it and waves it over the kneeling people. The words
of the Last Communion are heard, sung by the soaring voices in
the dome: "Take my body--Take my blood--For the sake of our love!
Take my blood--Take my body--And remember me!"

The ceremony accomplished, Amfortas sets down the Cup, which begins
to pale; as it fades, the twilight lightens. When the common light
of day has completely returned, the knights sit down to the repast of
consecrated Bread placed for them, and Wine poured, by the acolytes.
At the end of it, they earnestly grasp one another's hands in renewal
of their bond of brotherhood.

Amfortas is perceived to be suffering from the renewed bleeding
of his wound. He is laid upon the litter once more and borne away.
The knights depart in orderly procession, the hall is gradually
deserted.

Parsifal remains standing on the same spot. He has hardly moved,
except, when Amfortas's anguished cry rang out, to clutch at his
heart. Gurnemanz, when he sat down at the table with the other
knights, signed to him to come and share in the holy feast, but
he did not stir. The impression can be apprehended of the solemn
scene upon the white page of the boy's mind. A spirit of religion
has breathed through it all, so exalted, so warm, so personal; the
passionate mediaeval Christianity which expressed itself in crusades
and religious orders and knight-errantry. The cry of the Saviour
(_Erloesung's Held_, Hero of Redemption, the poet characteristically
calls him) has rung so piercingly, there seems but one answer from
a humanly constituted simple heart: "Did you indeed suffer so much
and die for love of me and my brothers? How then can I the most
quickly spend and scatter all my strength and blood in gratitude
to you?" Parsifal has brought to these things a consciousness not
blurred and overscored by worldly knowledge and desires, a native
capacity for love of others uninterfered with by the developed
considerati