The note of the wicked world--Magic for Devotion--Sensuality for Worship--breaks in upon our vision, as the scene changes from the Halls of Montsalvat to Klingsor's palace. Klingsor, an impure knight, who has been refused admittance to the order of the "Sangrail," enters into a compact with the powers of evil--by magic acquires arts of diabolical fascination--fills his palace and gardens with enchantments, and wages bitter war against the holy knights, with a view of corrupting them, and ultimately, it may be, of acquiring for himself the "Sangrail," in which all power is believed to reside. Many knights have already succumbed to the "insidious arts" of Klingsor; but the tragical turning-point of the _Parsifal_ is that Amfortas, himself the son of Titurel, the official guardian of the Grail, in making war upon the magician, took with him the sacred spear, and _lost_ it to Klingsor. It came about in this way. A woman of unearthly loveliness won him in the enchanted bowers adjoining the evil knight's palace, and Klingsor, seizing the holy spear, thrust it into Amfortas's side, inflicting what seemed an incurable wound. The brave knight, Gurnemanz, dragged his master fainting from the garden, his companions of the Sangrail covering their retreat. But, returned to Montsalvat, the unhappy king awakes only to bewail his sin, the loss of the sacred spear, and the ceaseless harrowing smart of an incurable wound. But who is Parsifal? * * * * * The smell of pine woods in July! The long avenue outside the city of Bayreuth, that leads straight up the hill, crowned by the Wagner Theater, a noble structure--architecturally admirable--severe, simple, but exactly adapted to its purpose. I join the stream of pilgrims, some in carriages, others on foot. As we approach, a clear blast of trombones and brass from the terrace in front of the grand entrance plays out the Grail "motive." It is the well-known signal--there is no time to be lost. I enter at the prescribed door, and find myself close to my appointed place. Every one--such is the admirable arrangement--seems to do likewise. In a few minutes about one thousand persons are seated without confusion. The theater is darkened, the footlights are lowered, the prelude begins. Act I The waves of sound rise from the shadowy gulf sunken between the audience and the footlights. Upon the sound ocean of "wind" the "Take, eat," or "Love-feast" motive floats. Presently the strings pierce through it, the Spear motive follows, and then, full of heavy pain, "Drink ye all of this," followed by the famous Grail motive--an old chorale also used by Mendelssohn in the Reformation Symphony. Then comes the noble Faith and Love theme.