The lance is in Klingsor's hands, and as, by its virtue, he can wound even the saints, he imagines that he has already taken the Grail from us." "Ah! before all else, the lance must be restored to us," cries a shield-bearer. "Happiness and honor to him who will restore it." And Gurnemanz resumes: "Amfortas, prostrated in ardent prayer before the deserted shrine, implored a sign of deliverance, when a gentle light emanated from the Grail, and a holy apparition spoke to him distinctly, and he clearly discerned these words: 'Let a harmless fool only, knowing by compassion, await him whom I have chosen.'" But while the shield-bearers repeat the words of the oracle with profound emotion, cries resound in the forest. "Misfortune! misfortune! who is the criminal?" "What is it?" ask Gurnemanz and the shield-bearers. "Yonder!... a swan!... a wild swan!... he is wounded!" "Who wounded it?" Two knights, arriving unexpectedly, reply,-- "The king greeted the bird's whirling flight over the lake as a happy omen, when an arrow was let fly." New shield-bearers bring Parsifal forward and say: "Look! here is he who sent the arrow." "Is it thou who hast killed the swan?" demands Gurnemanz. "Truly," cries Parsifal, "I shoot upon the wing whatever flies." "Unprecedented misdeed! thou hast then committed a murder here in this sacred wood, whose peacefulness surrounded thee; did not the familiar beasts approach thee, gentle and caressing? What had this faithful swan done to thee? To us it was a friend. What is it now to thee? Behold the snowy plumage stained with blood, the drooping wings, the dying glance,--Dost thou recognize thy fault?" "I did not know," says Parsifal, greatly troubled. And he breaks his bow with violence. They question him: "From whence dost thou come? What is thy name? Who has sent thee?" The young man knows nothing of all this; he knows not even if he have a name. But Kundry, who has fixed an eager glance upon Parsifal, answers for him: "His mother brought him an orphan into the world, when Gamuret was slain in combat. To preserve her son from a hero's premature death she brought him up in the forest, a stranger to arms, like a fool, the mad woman." "Yes," says Parsifal, who has listened with lively attention, "and once glittering men, mounted upon beautiful animals, passed along the borders of the forest. I wished to resemble them, but they laughed at me, and passed rapidly by. Then I ran after them, but I could not overtake them. I came to wild places upon mountains, in valleys; often night fell, the day returned; my bow defended me against the deer and the giants." "Yes," cries Kundry, eagerly, "the evil-doers and giants were overcome by his strength. They all fear the valiant youth"-- "Who fears me, say?" "The wicked." "Were those who menaced me wicked? Who is good?" "Thy mother, from whom thou hast escaped," says Gurnemanz; "she weeps and grieves for thy sake." "Her grief is over; his mother is dead," says Kundry.