rsifal presents a resemblance
to the traditional representations of the Saviour; the idea being,
we must think, to indicate, stamped on the exterior man, this soul's
aspiration towards likeness with the Divine Pattern; or, perhaps,
visibly to state that here, too, is a gentle and selfless lover
of men, all of whose forces bent on a mission of deliverance.

Gurnemanz, watching him attentively, recognises the slayer, long
ago, of the swan, the stupid boy whom he had turned out of the
temple. Then he recognises, too, the Spear.

Parsifal, rising from his prayer, gazes quietly around him and
recognises Gurnemanz. To the question of the latter, how and whence
he comes, he replies: "I am come by ways of wandering and pain.
Can I believe myself at last delivered from them, since I hear
once more the rustle of this forest, and behold you, worthy elder?
Or am I still baffled in my search for the right road? Everything
looks changed...." "What road is it you seek?" Gurnemanz inquires.
"The road to him whose profound wail I heard of yore in wondering
stupidity, and the instrument of whose healing I now dare believe
myself elected to be...." All this long time he has vainly sought
the road back to the Grail, whether hindered by Kundry's curse,
or cut off by some stain left upon his nature from his brief hour
in the deadly garden, which must be cleansed by such prolonged
ordeal. He relates the desperate battle in all his wanderings to
keep safe the Sacred Spear,--which, behold, he is now bringing
home! Gurnemanz's joy bursts forth unbounded. Then he, too, makes
his friend even over the past. Since the day of his presence among
them, the trouble then revealed to him has increased to the last
point of distress. Amfortas, revolting against the torments of
his soul, and desiring naught but death, refuses to perform the
office of the Grail, by which his life would be prolonged. The
knights, deprived of their heavenly nourishment, deprived of a
leader, have lost their old strength and courage. They seek their
sustenance of herbs and roots, like the animals, in the forest. No
longer are they called to holy warfare in distant lands. Titurel,
unrenewed by the vision of the Grail, is dead.... At the relation
of these mournful events, grief assails Parsifal, who holds himself
responsible for all this wretchedness, by reason of his long-delayed
return, which he must regard as a consequence of sins and folly of
his own,--grief beyond what the