It was while he was searching for the material for Tannhäuser,
that Wagner came across Wolfram von Eschenbach's poems of
'Parsifal' and 'Titurel,'[4] and, as he reports, 'an entirely
new world of poetical matter suddenly opened before me.' Wagner
made no use of this idea, however, until 1857, some fifteen
years later, when he drew up the first sketch of his Parsifal,
during his residence at Zurich; twenty years later he finished
the poem at Bayreuth. He then immediately began the music,
although he was sixty-five years of age. That same year, while
he was making a concert tour in London, he read the poem to a
select audience of friends, by whose advice it was published.
Although the music for this opera, which is designated as 'a
solemn work destined to hallow the stage,' was finished in 1879,
the instrumentation was completed only in 1882, at Palermo,
a few months before its first production at Bayreuth.
This opera, which Wagner himself called a religious drama, is
intended as the 'Song of Songs of Divine Love, as Tristan and
Ysolde is the Song of Songs of Terrestrial Love.' The performance
was repeated sixteen times at Bayreuth, where many people had
come from all parts of the world to hear and see it, and has
since been revived a number of times. It is the most difficult
and least easily understood of the master's intricate works,
and bears the imprint not only of his philosophical studies, but
also of the spirit of Oriental mysticism, in which he delighted,
and which he at one time intended to make use of for the stage.
The opera opens in the forest, where Gurnemanz, an old servant
of Amfortas, guardian of the Holy Grail, is lying asleep with
two squires. Suddenly, reveille sounds from the top of Mount
Salvat, the sacred hill upon which the temple stands. Gurnemanz,
springing to his feet, rouses the squires, and bids them prepare
the bath for their ailing master, who will soon appear as is
his daily custom.
This Amfortas, whose coming they momentarily expect, is the
son of Titurel, the founder of the temple erected on Mount
Salvat for the reception of the Holy Grail, a vessel in which
Joseph of Arimathea caught a few drops of blood from the dying
Redeemer's side, after it had served as chalice during the
Last Supper. Titurel, feeling too old to continue his office
as guardian of the Grail, appointed Amfortas as his successor,
giving him the sacred lance which pierced the Saviour's side,
and told him that none could resist him as long as he wielded
it and kept himself perfectly pure.
During many years Amfortas led a stainless life, defending the
Holy Grail from every foe, performing all his sacred offices
with exemplary piety, and teaching the Knights of the Grail to
fight for the right, and rescue the feeble and oppressed. He
also sent out messengers to all parts of the world to right
the wrong, whenever called upon to do so, by the words which
suddenly appeared and glowed like fire around the edge of
the mystic vase. All the knights who served the Holy Grail
were not only fed with celestial viands by its power alone,
but were endowed with resistless might, which assured their
victory everywhere as long as they remained unknown. They
had moreover the privilege of recovering, as if by magic,
from every wound. Of course, many knights were desirous of
being admitted into the temple, but none except those whose
lives were pure and whose purposes lofty were ever accepted.
When Klingsor, the magician, attempted to enter, therefore,
he was repulsed. In his anger he established himself upon the
other side of the mountain, where, summoning all the arts of
magic to his aid, he called up delusions of every kind. Thus
he beguiled many of the knights in search of the Holy Grail,
caught them in his toils and led them on to sin, until they
were unfit for the holy life to which they had once aspired.
Amfortas, hearing of this, and too confident in his own
strength, sallied forth one day, armed with the sacred lance,
determined to destroy Klingsor, and put an end to his magic.
But alas! he had no sooner entered the magician's garden,
where roamed a host of lovely maidens trained to lure all men
to sin, than he yielded to the blandishments of the fairest
among them. Carelessly flinging his sacred lance aside, he gave
himself up to the delights of passion. Such was his bewitched
condition that he never even noticed the stealthy approach
of the magician, who seized the lance and thrust it into his
side. This deep wound, which had refused to heal ever since,
caused him incessant tortures, which were increased rather than
diminished whenever he uncovered the Holy Grail.
Although no remedy could allay this torture, the Holy Grail
decreed that it should be stilled by a guileless fool, who,
enlightened by pity, would find the only cure. But, as he
tarried, many knights travelled all over the world in search
of simples, and Kundry, a wild, witch-like woman, also sought
in vain to relieve him.
While the squires, in obedience to Gurnemanz's orders, prepare
the bath, Kundry comes riding wildly on the scene. In breathless
haste she thrusts a curious little flask into Gurnemanz's
hand, telling him it is a precious balsam she has brought
from a great distance to alleviate Amfortas's suffering. She
is so exhausted by her long ride that she flings herself upon
the ground, where she remains while a little procession comes
down the hill. It is composed of knights bearing the wounded
Amfortas, and they set the litter down for a moment, as the
king gives vent to heart-rending groans. To soothe him, his
attendants remind him that there are many more remedies to try,
and Gurnemanz adds that, failing all others, they can always
rely upon the promise of the Holy Grail, and await the coming
of the guileless fool. When Amfortas learns that Kundry has
made another attempt to help him, he thanks her kindly, but
his gentle words only seem to increase her distress, for she
writhes uneasily on the ground and refuses all thanks.
When the king and his bearers have gone down the hill, and
have passed out of sight, the squires begin chaffing poor
Kundry. She gazes upon them with the wild eyes of an animal
at bay, until Gurnemanz comes to her rescue, and chides the
youths. He tells them that although she may once have been,
as they declare, under a curse, she has repented of her sins,
and serves the Holy Grail with a humility and singleness of
purpose which they would do well to imitate rather than deride.
In answer to their questions, he then goes on to describe
how Amfortas received the grievous wound which causes him such
intolerable pain, and lost the sacred spear, which only enhances
Klingsor's power for evil, and which none but a stainless
knight can ever recover. Their quiet conversation is brusquely
interrupted by the heavy fall of a swan, which lies dead at their
feet. This arouses their keenest indignation, for the rules of
the order forbid any deed of violence within sight or hearing of
the sacred edifice containing the Holy Grail. Gazing around in
search of the culprit, they soon behold the youth Parsifal, clad
in the rough and motley garments of a fool, and when Gurnemanz
angrily reproves him, and questions him concerning his name
and origin, he is amazed by the ignorance the lad displays.
By the help of Kundry, however, who, having travelled everywhere,
knows everything, Gurnemanz finally ascertains that the youth
is a descendant of the royal family, his father, Gamuret,
having died when he was born. His mother, Herzeloide (Heart's
Affliction), has brought him up in utter solitude and ignorance,
to prevent his becoming a knight and leave her perchance to
fall in battle:--
'Bereft of father his mother bore him.
For in battle perished Gamuret:
From like untimely hero's death
To save her offspring, strange to arms
She reared him a witless fool in deserts.'
The youth, however, pays no heed to Kundry's explanations,
but goes on to tell Gurnemanz that he saw some men riding
through the forest in glittering array, and followed them
through the world with no other weapon than the bow he had
manufactured. But when Kundry again interrupts him, declaring
that his sudden disappearance has caused his mother's death,
he shows the greatest sensibility, and even faints with grief.
While the squires gently bathe his face and hands to bring
him back to life, Kundry, feeling the sudden and overpowering
desire for sleep which often mysteriously overpowers her,
creeps reluctantly into a neighbouring thicket, where she
immediately sinks into a comatose state. In the mean while,
the king's procession comes up from the bath, and slowly passes
across the stage and up the hill. Gurnemanz, whose heart has
been filled with a sudden hope that the youth before him may
be the promised guileless fool who alone can cure the king,
puts an arm around him, gently raises him, and, supporting his
feeble footsteps, leads him up the hill. They walk along dark
passages, and finally come into the great hall on the top of
Mount Salvat, which is empty now, and where only the sound of
the bells in the dome is heard as Gurnemanz says to Parsifal:--
'Now give good heed, and let me see,
If thou 'rt a Fool and pure
What wisdom thou presently canst secure.'
Parsifal, the unsophisticated youth, stands spellbound at the
marvels he beholds, nor does he move when the great doors open,
and the Knights of the Grail come marching in, singing of the
mystic vessel and of its magic properties. This strain is
taken up not only by the youths who follow them, but also by
a boy choir in the dome which is intended to represent the
angels. When the knights have all taken their places, the
doors open again to admit the bearers of the sacred vessel,
which is kept in a shrine. They are followed by Amfortas, in
his litter, and when he has been carefully laid upon a couch,
and the vessel has been placed upon the altar before him, all
bow down in silent prayer. Suddenly the silence is broken by
the voice of the aged Titurel. He is lying in a niche in the
rear of the hall, and calls solemnly upon his son to uncover
the Holy Grail, and give him a sight of the glorious vessel,
which alone can renew his failing strength. The boys are
about to remove the veil when Amfortas suddenly detains them,
and begins a passionate protest, relating how his sufferings
increase every time he beholds the Grail. He implores his
father to resume the sacred office, and wildly asks how long
his sufferings must endure. To this appeal the angels' voices
respond by repeating the prophecy made by the Holy Grail:--
'By pity 'lightened
The guileless Fool--
Wait for him
My chosen tool.'
Strengthened by this reminder of ultimate relief, and by the
voice of the knights and of Titurel again calling for the
uncovering of the Grail, Amfortas takes the crystal cup from
its shrine, bends over it in devout prayer, while the angel
voices above chant a sort of communion service, and the hall is
gradually darkened. Suddenly a beam of blinding light shoots
down through the dome and falls upon the cup, which 'glows with
an increased purple lustre,' while Amfortas holds it above his
head, and gently waves it to and fro, so that its mystic light
can be seen by all the knights and squires, who have sunk to
their knees.
Titurel hails the sight with a pious ejaculation, and when
Amfortas has replaced the vessel in the shrine the beam of
light disappears, daylight again fills the hall, and knights
and squires begin to partake of the bread and wine before
them, a feast to which Gurnemanz invites the amazed Parsifal
by a mute gesture. The youth is too astonished to accept;
he remains spellbound, while the invisible choir resume their
chant, which is taken up first by the youths' voices, and then
by the knights, and ends only as the meal draws to a close, and
Amfortas is borne out, preceded by the Holy Grail and followed
by the long train of knights and squires.
Gurnemanz and Parsifal alone remain. The Fool, though guileless,
has not been enlightened by pity to inquire the cause of
Amfortas's wound. He has thus missed his opportunity to cure
him, and Gurnemanz, indignant at his boundless stupidity, opens
a side door, and thrusts him out into the forest, uttering a
contemptuous dismissal.
'Thou art then nothing but a Fool!
Come away, on thy road be gone
And put my rede to use:
Leave all our swans for the future alone
And seek thyself, gander, a goose.'
The second act represents the inner keep of Klingsor's castle,
the magician himself being seated on the battlement. He is
gazing intently into the magic mirror, wherein all the world
may be seen, and comments with malicious glee upon Parsifal's
ejection from the temple of the Holy Grail and his approach to
his enchanted ground.
Laying aside his magic mirror, Klingsor then begins one of
his uncanny spells, and in the midst of a bluish vapor calls up
Kundry from the enchanted sleep into which his art has bound her.
He tells her that, although she has succeeded in escaping his
power for a short time, and has gone over to the enemy whom
she has done all in her power to serve, he now requires her to
exercise all her fascinations to beguile Parsifal away from
the path of virtue, as she once lured Amfortas, the king and
guardian of the Holy Grail.
In vain the half awakened Kundry struggles and tries to resist
his power, Klingsor has her again in his toils, and once more
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
volition, seeing she cannot lure him to sin, and that he is
about to escape forever, shrieks frantically for help, cursing
him vehemently, and declaring that he will have to wander long
ere he can again find a way to the realm of the Holy Grail.
Her piercing screams bring the flower damsels and Klingsor
upon the scene, and the latter, standing upon the rampart,
flings the holy spear at Parsifal, expecting to wound him as
grievously as Amfortas. But the youth has committed no sin,
he is quite pure; so the spear remains poised above his head,
until he stretches out his hand, and, seizing it, makes a sign
of the cross, adjuring the magic to cease:--
'This sign I make, and ban thy cursed magic:
As the wound shall be closed
Which thou with this once clovest,--
To wrack and to ruin
Falls thy unreal display!'
At the holy sign, the enchanter's delusions vanish, maidens and
gardens disappear, and Kundry sinks motionless upon the arid
soil, while Parsifal springs over the broken wall, calling out
that they shall meet again.
The third act is played also upon the slopes of the mountain,
upon which the temple stands. Many years have elapsed, however,
and Gurnemanz, bent with age, slowly comes out of his hut at
the sound of a groan in a neighbouring thicket. The sounds are
repeated until the good old man, who has assumed the garb of
a hermit, searches in the thicket, and, tearing the brambles
aside, finds the witch Kundry in one of her lethargic states. He
has seen her so before in days gone by, and, dragging her
rigid form out from the thicket, he proceeds to restore her
to life. Wildly as of old her eyes roll about, but she has no
sooner come to her senses than she clamours for some work to
do for the Holy Grail, and proceeds to draw water and perform
sundry menial tasks. Gurnemanz, watching her closely, comments
upon her altered behaviour, and expresses a conviction that she
will ultimately be saved, since she has returned to the Grail
after many years on the morning of Good Friday.
He is so occupied in examining her that he does not notice
the approach of Parsifal, clad in black armour, with closed
helmet and lowered spear, and it is only when Kundry calls his
attention to the stranger that he welcomes him, but without
recognizing him in the least.
Parsifal, however, has not forgotten the old man whom he has
sought so long in vain, and is, so overcome by emotion that
he cannot speak. He obeys Gurnemanz's injunctions to remove
his arms, as none dare enter the holy precincts of the Holy
Grail in martial array, and, planting the spear he recovered
from Klingsor into the ground, he bends the knee before it,
and returns silent thanks that his quest is ended, and he may
at last be vouchsafed to quiet the pain which Amfortas still
endures. While he is wrapt in prayer, Gurnemanz, staring at
him, suddenly recognizes him as the Guileless Fool who came
so long ago, and imparts his knowledge to Kundry, who confirms
it. Parsifal, having finished his prayer, and recovered the power
of speech, now greets Gurnemanz, and in answer to his question
says that he has wandered long, and expresses a fervent hope
that he has not come too late to retrieve his former fault:--
'Through error and through suffering lay my pathway;
May I believe that I have freed me from it,
Now that this forest's murmur
Falls upon my senses,
And worthy voice of age doth welcome?
Or yet--is 't new error?
All's altered here meseemeth.'
Gurnemanz is almost overcome with joy when he hears the young man
declare that he has brought back the sacred lance undefiled,
although he has suffered much to defend it from countless
foes who would fain have wrested it from him. As Parsifal now
begins eagerly to question him, he mournfully relates that times
have changed indeed. Amfortas still lives, and suffers untold
tortures from his unhealed wound, but Titurel, the aged king,
no longer quickened by the sight of the Holy Grail, (which has
never again been unveiled since his unhappy visit,) has slowly
passed away, and has closed his eyes in a last sleep. At these
sad tidings Parsifal faints with remorse, and Gurnemanz and
Kundry restore him with water from the holy spring, with which
they also wash away all the soil of travel. As he comes to life
again, inquiring whether he will be allowed to see Amfortas,
Gurnemanz tells him that the knights are to assemble once more
in the temple, as of old, to celebrate Titurel's obsequies,
and that Amfortas has solemnly promised to unveil the Holy
Grail, although at the cost of suffering to himself. He wishes
to comfort the knights, who have lost all their courage and
strength, and are no longer called upon to go forth and battle
for the right in the name of the Grail.
To enable Parsifal to appear in the temple, Gurnemanz now
baptises him with water from the spring, and Kundry, anointing
his feet with a costly perfume, wipes them with her hair.
Parsifal rewards her for this humble office by baptising her
in his turn. Then Gurnemanz anoints Parsifal's head with the
same ointment, for it is decreed he shall be king, and after
he and Kundry have helped him to don the usual habit of the
servants of the Holy Grail they proceed, as in the first act,
to the temple, and once more enter the great hall.
As they appear, the doors open, and two processions enter,
chanting a mournful refrain. Ten knights bear the bier containing
Titurel's corpse, the others carry the wasted form of the wounded
king. The chorus ended, the coffin is opened, and at the sight
of the dead Titurel all the assistants cry out in distress. No
wail is so bitter, however, as that of Amfortas, who mournfully
addresses his dead father, imploring him to intercede for him
before the heavenly throne, and to obtain for him the long hoped
for and long expected release.
Then he bids the knights uncover the Holy Grail; but ere they
can do so he bursts out into a paroxysm of grief, exposing
his bleeding and throbbing wound, and declaring he has not
the courage to endure the sacred beam of light from the Holy
Grail. But, unnoticed by all, Parsifal, Gurnemanz, and Kundry
have drawn near. Suddenly the youth extends the sacred spear,
and, touching Amfortas with its point, declares that its
power alone can stanch the blood and heal the wounded side,
and pronounces the absolution of his sin:--
'Be whole, unsullied and absolved,
For I now govern in thy place.
Oh blessed be thy sorrows,
For Pity's potent might
And Knowledge's purest power
They taught a timid Fool.'
No sooner has the sacred point touched the wound than it is
indeed healed, and while Amfortas sinks tottering with emotion
into the arms of Gurnemanz, all the knights gaze enraptured
at the spear. Then Parsifal announces that he is commanded by
Divine decree to become the guardian of the Grail, which he
unveils and reverently receives into his hands.
Once more the hall is darkened, once more the beam of refulgent
light illumines the gloom, and, as Parsifal slowly waves the
vessel to and fro, a snowy dove, the emblem of the Holy Grail,
hovers lightly over his head.
Suddenly the beam of light falls across the face of the dead
Titurel, who, coming to life again in its radiance, raises
his hand in fervent blessing ere he sinks back once more to
peaceful rest. Kundry, too, has seen the Holy Grail before
her eyes closed in death, and Amfortas, cured and forgiven,
joins the knights and invisible choir in praising God for his
great mercy, which endures forever.
[4] See the author's 'Legends of the Middle Ages,' in press.