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    "schema_version": "1.1",
    "endpoint": "/api/sources/grail-romances/parzival/03-book-iii-parzival.json"
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  "work": {
    "slug": "parzival",
    "name": "Parzival"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "grail-romances",
      "name": "Holy Grail Romances",
      "url": "/sources/grail-romances/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 4,
    "slug": "03-book-iii-parzival",
    "title": "Book III: Parzival",
    "of": 17,
    "words": 15745,
    "text": "## Book III: Parzival\n\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nDigitized by\n\nARGUMENT\n\nIn the Introduction the poet speaks of the honour in which he holds all\ntrue women, though he be wroth with one who has wronged him. Yet,\nthough women shall count him their friend, be would fain that they should\nhonour him for his knightly deeds, rather than for this his song.\n\nIn Book in. he tells of the sorrow and the faith of Queen Herzeleide; of\nParrival's childhood; of his meeting with the knights: of his faring forth\nto seek knighthood from King Arthur; and of the death of Herzeleide.\nHow Parzival met with Jeschut£, and robbed her of her token, and of the\nwrath of her husband Orilus. Of the sorrow of Sigund, and how Parzival\nlearnt his name and his lineage. How Parzival met with the Red Knight\nand bare his challenge to the court of King Arthur, and how he craved a\nboon of the king. Of the shaming of Kunnewaar6 ; and of the death\nof the Red Knight. How Parzival came to Gumemanz of Graharz and\nwas cured by him of his folly and taught all knightly wisdom, and how he\nrode forth from the land of Graharz.\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nfS there ever a singer among you, who singeth a sweeter song\nOf the favour and love of women, I hold not he does me\nwrong!\n\nFull fain am I still to hearken to aught that may give them\n\njoy,\n\nBut to one alone among women my homage I still deny.\n\nNay, ever the fire of my anger doth kindle and flame anew,\n\nAnd the sorrow her treason wrought me, it grieveth me still I trow!\n\nI, whom men have named the singer, I, Wolfram of Eschenbach,\n\nThe words that against a woman I spake, I may ne’er take back.\n\nNay, I hold fast my wrath for ever, and clasp it closer still,\n\nAs 1 think how in soul and body alike hath she wrought me ill! :\n\nHow can I do aught but hate her, till death setteth seal on life ?\n\nYet it grieveth me sore that others should mingle in this our strife ;\n\nIt grieveth me sore that maidens should say, as they name my name,\n\n4 Forsooth be hath shamed all women, let it be unto him for shame !*\n\nNay, then, an they reckon for evil the words that in grief I spake, 15\n\nI will speak them no more for ever, though my heart should in silence break !\nBut let them beware in their anger, these warlike maidens fair,\n\nHow they stir from his eyrie the eagle, rouse the lion from his lair !\n\nFull well I know how to defend me, full well know I what beseems\n\nThe maid of a knight’s devotion, the maid of the poet’s dreams ! 20\n\nLet a maiden be steadfast-hearted, pure and true in word and deed,\n\nAnd her champion true she ’ll find me, comes there ever an hour of need\n\n! hold his renown waxeth slowly, and halteth upon the road,\n\nWho, for wrong at the hand of one woman, shall slander all womanhood :\n\nVOL. I.\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\n£\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n3 5 But if any will look upon me, and hearken to what I sing,\n\nOf a sooth I will not deceive them, though my tale over-strange may ring.\nBom was I unto the bearing of knightly shield and spear,\n\nAnd though sweet be the song of the singer, I hold it not all too dear:\n\nI had rather my love should love me for my deeds of high renown,\n\n3 ° Than because in the hall of the Wartburg they should crown me with music’s\ncrown !\n\nWith the shield and the spear of knighthood will I seek for a knight’s reward,\nNor charm, with the harp of the singer, what I failed to win with the sword 1\n\nNor in praise of fair women only runs this tale that I have to tell,\n\nFull many strange deeds it holdeth, and marvels that once befell\n35 Ere the course of this wondrous venture be traced unto its end ;\n\nYet he who heareth shall reckon, if he fain would account me friend, *\n\nThat this is no book he readeth, for no maker of books am I !\n\nBut a singer of strange adventures, and of knightly prowess high :\n\nStripped bare will I be of all honour, naked and reft of fame,\n\n4 ° Ere 1 trust my renown unto letters, and give to a book my name !\n\nIt vexes me, soul and body, that so many should bear the name\nAnd speak with the tongue of women, who reck not of woman’s fame ;\n\nThat those who have known no falsehood, and those who are swift to fall,\nShould carry one name in common, be counted as sisters all!\n\n45 A truth that has faltered never, a faith that has aye withstood,\n\nIs the only glory of woman, the crown of her womanhood !\n\nMANY will say, * What good thing can come out of poverty?’\n\nShe who for love endures it, she ’scapeth Hell thereby,\n\nAnd, in the kingdom of Heaven, receiveth a hundredfold\n50 For all she has borne for love’s sake, new joys for her sorrows old !\n\nNot one have I known in my lifetime, I count it a bitter truth,\n\nNeither a man nor a maiden, who the joy and the pride of youth,\n\nAnd all earth’s riches and honour, will leave as a worthless thing\nIf weighed with the glory of Heaven, and the service of Heaven’s King^\n55 But Queen Herzeleide only, she left her fair estate,\n\nIn her youth of all joy bereaved, with sorrow afar to mate.\n\nSo holy was she and gentle, so faithful and pure of mind,\n\nThat no tongue spake a word against her, and no eye a fault could find'\n\nDigitized 3CK^ 1C\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\n6 7\n\nSunlight or shadow, what recked she ? the day was to her as night,\n\nFor her heart was the home of sorrow, and dead was the world’s delight. 60\n* And in sorrow and grief she wandered, till she came to Soltan&’s strand,\n\nA woodland wild and lonely afar from her native land :\n\nFair flowers might bloom and blossom without, on the sunlit plain,\n\nAnd be woven in rosy chaplets, but for her they would bloom in vain !\n\nAnd there, mid the woodland shadows, she hid with Gamuret’s son, 65\n\n1 (For she willed that her life’s last treasure be revealed unto none\nSo she called her folk around her, (who toiled in the upland field\nWith oxen and plough, that the furrows their daily bread might yield,)\n\nAnd she charged them all, by the service which she as their queen might\nclaim,\n\nThat they hide from the boy his birthright and the fame of his father’s name. 70\n4 For the knightly deeds ye vaunt of, and the glory and pride of war,\n\nHave wrought me but heart’s affliction, and trouble and anguish sore,\n\nSo, lest I yet more should suffer, 1 pray you, my servants dear,\n\nThat ye speak no word of knighthood, lest my son perchance should hear ! ’\n\nThen full sore were her people grieved, for they held it an evil thing, 75\n\nAnd a training that ill beseemed the son of a mighty king.\n\nBut his mother kept him hidden in the woodland valleys wild,\n\nNor thought in her love and sorrow how she wronged the kingly child :\n\nNo knightly weapon she gave him, save such as in childish play\nHe wrought himself from the bushes that grew on his lonely way,\n\n_ A bow and arrows he made him, and with these, in thoughtless glee.\n\nHe shot at the* 4 >irds as they carolled o’erhead in the leafy tree.\n\nBut when the feathered songster of the woods at his feet lay dead,\n\nIn wonder and dumb amazement he bowed down his golden head,\n\nAnd in childish wrath and sorrow tore the locks of his sunny hair ; 85\n\n(For I wot well of all earth’s children was never a child so fair\n\nAs this boy, who afar in the desert from the haunts of mankind did dwell,\n\nWho bathed in the mountain streamlet, and roamed o’er the rock-strewn\n. fell!)\n\nThen he thought him well how the music, which his hand had for ever stilled.\nHad thrilled his soul with its sweetness, and his heart was with sorrow filled, 90\nAnd the ready tears of childhood flowed forth from their fountains free\n* As Jie ran to his mother weeping, and bowed him beside her knee.\n\nDigitized by * ^ooQle\n\nPARZ1VAL\n\n‘ What aileth thee child?’ quoth the mother, ‘but now was t thou gay and glad’—\nBut, childlike, he gave no answer, scarce wist he what made him sad !\n\n95 But Queen Herzeleide watched him through the sunny summer days,\n\nTill beneath a tree she saw him stand silent, with upturned gaze,\n\nAnd a look of joyful rapture in the radiant childish eyes,\n\nAs he listed the bird, that, soaring, sang clear thro 1 the cloudless skies ;\n\nAnd the mother’s heart was troubled, and her wrath waxed to fever heat,\nioo She would brook in his love no rival—not even God’s singers sweet!\n\nSo she sent forth in haste her servants, with many a cunning snare\nTo capture the singers whose music made joyful the woodlands fair.\n\nThen, alas! for the birds, who struggled in the cruel snare in vain,\n\nYet some few burst their bonds, and joyful, brake forth into song again !\n\n105 Then the boy spake, * Now sweet my mother, why trouble the birds so sore ?\nForsooth they can ne’er have harmed thee, ah, leave them in peace once\nmore !’\n\nAnd his mother kissed him gently, ‘ Perchance I have wrought a wrong,\n\nOf a truth, the dear God who made them, He gave unto them their song,\nAnd I would not that one of his creatures should sorrow because of me.’\nno But the boy looked up in wonder, ‘ God, Mother ? Who may God be ? ’\n\n4 My son, He is light beyond all light, brighter than summer’s day,\n\nAnd He bare a Man’s Face, that we men might look on His Face alway 1\nArt thou ever in need of succour? call on Him in thine hour of ill,\n\nAnd be sure He will fail thee never, but will hear thee, and help thee still.\n\n115 Yet one there is dwelleth in darkness, and I wot men may fear him well,\nFor his home is the house of falsehood, and his kingdom the realm of Hell!\nTurn thy mind away from him ever, nor waver betwixt the twain.\n\nFor he who doubteth, bis labour shall ever be wrought in vain.’\n\nThus his mother read him the riddle, the myst'ry of day and night,\n\n120 The dread and the doom of darkness, and the glory and grace of light!\nThen javelin in hand he hastened thro* the forest pathways wild,\n\nAnd the deer sprang up from their thickets, and fled from the dauntless child ;\nBut clear-eyed and eager-footed he hastened upon their track,\n\nAnd full oft with a hora&d trophy, at even he hied him back.\n\n1^5 Little cared he for rain or sunshine, summer’s storm or winter’s snow,\n\nAnd daily in strength and beauty all men might behold him grow : s.\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nTin at length no beast so mighty thro’ tbe forest wild did roam,\n\nIf it fell ’neath his shaft, unaided, on his shoulder he bore it home !\n\nIt chanced thro 1 a woodland thicket one mom as he took his way,\n\nAnd brake from overhanging bushes full many a leafy spray, * 3 °\n\nThat a pathway steep and winding rose sharply his track anear,\n\nAnd the distant beat of horse-hoofs fell strange on his wondering ear.\n\nThen the'boy grasped his javelin firmly and thought what the sound might be ;\n\n‘ Perchance *tis the devil cometh! Well, I care not if it be he !\n\nMethinks I can still withstand him, be he never so fierce and grim, *35\n\nOf a truth my lady mother she is o’er-much afraid o ihim !\n\nAs he stood there for combat ready, behold, in the morning light, :\n\nThree knights rode into the clearing, in glittering armour bright; 1\n\nFrom head to foot were they arm&d, each one on his gallant steed,\n\nAnd the lad as he saw their glory thought each one a god indeed ! *40\n\nNo longer he stood defiant, but knelt low upon his knee,\n\nAnd cried, * God, Who helpest all men, I pray Thee have thought for me! *\n\nThen wroth was the foremost rider as the lad barred his further way.\n\nAnd he spake out, ‘ This stupid Walds will hinder our work to-day ! ’\n\n(\"(Now here would I give to the Waleis the fame we Bavarians hold ; «45\n\nThey are duller than e’en our people, yet manly in strife and bold.\n\nAnd in sooth were one bom in both countries such marvel of strength and\nskill\n\nWould he hide in himself that 1 think me their fame he might well fulfil !)J\n\nThen there rode swift with hanging bridle, in costly harness dight,\n\nWith plumed and jewelled helmet another gallant knight; * 5 °\n\nSwiftly he came as thirsting to challenge in mortal fight\n\nThe foe who sped far before him, who had done him a sore despite ;\n\nFor two knights from out his kingdom a maiden had borne away,\n\nAnd he held* it a deed most shameful and one he must needs repay ;\n\nFor the maiden’s sorrow grieved him, and fain would he ease her pain : x 55\n\n(And the three knights who rode before him were part of his warlike train.)\n\nHe rode a Spanish war-horse, and his shield had fierce conflict seen,\n\nAnd Karfiachkarnanz did they call him (he was Ulterleg’s count I ween).\n\nDigitized by vjiVIC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThen he cried to his knights, ‘Why loiter? who barreth our onward way?*\n\n160 And straight on the lad did he ride there, who deemed him a god alway,\n\nFor ne’er had he seen such glory; his harness shone fair with dew,\n\nAnd on either foot the stirrups with golden bells rang true.\n\nAnd their length was e’en as fitting, and with bells did each strong arm ring,\n\nAs he stirred himself, or his sword-blade in battle aloft would swing. j\n\nl6 5 And the hero was swift in seeking the guerdon of knightly prize,\n\nSo he rode here, the prince, and had decked him in a fair anckwondrous wise.\n\nThen spake this flower of all knighthood, * Say, boy, did they pass thy way ?\n\nTwo knights who have shamed their knighthood, nay, robbers I ween are\nthey,\n\nFor they bear a maiden with them, and she rideth against her will! ’\n\n170 Yet the boy, Iho’ he spake with a man’s tongue, as a god must account him\nstill ;\n\nFor he thought how Queen Herzeleide had told him that God was Light\nAnd dwelleth in Light for ever; and so to his dazzled sight\n\nThis knight, in his shining armour in the glow of the summer’s day, j\n\nWas the God of his mother’s lesson, and he knelt him again to pray.\n\n\\\n\n*75 But the prince he spake full gently, ‘Fain am I to do God’s will,\n\nAnd yet for no God I hold me, but a sinful mortal still.\n\nNay, wert thou more clear of vision, thou wouldst see, an thou sawest aright,\n\nNo Lord of the host of Heaven, but only a humble knight! ’\n\n‘ Knight?’ quoth the boy in answer, ‘ Nay! 1 wot not what that may be,\n\n*80 is thy strength not of God, but of knighthood, then I would such were given\nto me! ’\n\n‘ Then wend thy way to King Arthur, an thou earnest unto his court,\n\nA noble knight he would make thee, ashamed and afeared for naught, j\n\nFor sure, now 1 look upon thee, thou com’st of a noble strain.’\n\nC Then his knights they turned their bridles, and gazed at the boy again.\nl8 5 Full well might they look and wonder, at the work that God’s Hand had\nwrought,\n\nFor they say, who‘tell this story, that never could human thought\nHave dreamed of aught so goodly, since ever the world began,\n\nFor of all men beloved by women, was there never so fair a manj^ s\n\nDigitized by vjiOO^lC\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\n7i\n\nLoud they laughed as the boy spake further,‘Good knight, what may these\nbe?\n\nThese rings that so close around thee, above and below I see.’ 19°\n\nThen he handled; with curious finger, the armour the knight did bear,\n\nHis coat of mail dose-link&d as behov&d a knight to wear;\n\nAnd he spake as he looked on the harness, ‘ My mother’s maidens string\nOn their chains, and around their fingers, full many a shining ring,\n\nBut they cling not so close to each other as these rings that here I see, *95\n1 cannot force them asunder, what good are they then to thee ? ’\n\nThen the prince drew forth from its scabbard his shining blade so keen,\n\n‘ Now see, he who fights against me, must withstand my sword I ween,\n\nAnd lest he, on his part, should slay me, it is fit that with mail and shield,\n\nI ward me against his spear-thrusts, and the blows that his arm may wield/ 200\n^Swiftly the lad made answer, 1 Little good would it do the deer\nAn their coats were e’en such as thine is, they would fall still beneath my\nspear.’\n\nFull wroth were the knights and scornful that their lord thus long bad\ntalked\n\nWith this lad with the face of an angel, and the speech as of one distraught;\nThen the prince he spake full gently, ‘ God keep thee in His good grace, 305\nI would that my shield’s bright mirror might show me as fair a face 1\nNay, an the Giver of all gifts but gave thee wit enow\nTo match with a mien so goodly, full rich wert thou then 1 trow!\n\nMay He keep all sorrow from thee, and thy life be a summer’s day—’\n\nAnd with that he turned his bridle, and wended once more his way. 210\n\nThen adown the woodland pathway they rode, till they came full soon\nWhere the carles of Queen Herzeleide toiled hard thro’ the sultry noon :\n\nThe fields must they plough and harrow, if a harvest they hoped to reap,\n\nSo they goaded the patient oxen to their toil on the hillside steep.\n\nThen the prince he gave them * Good-morrow,’ and asked if there passed sis\nthat way\n\nA maiden in need and sorrow ? and they dared not to say him nay;\n\nBut they answered him e’en as he prayed them, and they spake ( Yea, at\ne&rly morn\n\nTwo knights and a maiden passed here, and the maiden, she wept forlorn,\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd the knights as they rode beside her, spurred ever her flying steed.’\n\n220 Then the prince knew his foe, Meliakanz, and his wrath waxed hot indeed,\nOn his tracks he followed swiftly, and they who this venture tell,\n\nSay he won back in fight the maiden ere the shadows of evening fell.\n\nBut sore were the queen’s folk troubled that the heroes had chanced that\nway,\n\nAnd they spake, ( God forbid that our queen’s son fall in with these knights\nto-day!\n\n225 An he chances to light upon them in the pride of their warlike gear,\n\nIt will anger full sore our mistress if by hap she the tale should hear:\n\nAnd ill-luck will it bring upon us that, ere ever the dawn of day,\n\nWith us while his mother slumbered, to the woods he stole awa^JJ^\n\nLittle recked the boy of their trouble as he chased the flying deer,\n\n230 And shouted in youthful gladness, as they fell before hi& spear.\n\nThen homeward he sped to his mother, but ere he his tale might tell\nShe was smitten with deadly terror, and low at his feet she fell.\n\nThen soon as Queen Herzeleide found bearing and speech once more\nHer boy was she fain to question tho’ her heart it misgave her sore;\n\n2 35 * Who spake to thee, son, of knighthood? What knowest thou of such-like\nrede?’ . ?/ f\n\n‘ I met in the woods, sweet mother, four men I deemed gods indeed,\n\nSo light were they all and shining, God Himself ne’er could brighter be,\n\nAnd of knighthood they spake and King Arthur, who might well make a\n\nknight of me 1 ’ /\n\nThen her sorrow of old-time wakened, and the queen in her heart she\nsought\n\n240 For some cunning wile of woman, that her boy from his will be brought.\n\nWhen the simple lad and gallant would crave from her hand a steed,\n\nTho* heavy her heart, she bethought her in naught to gainsay his need,\n\n4 Yet not as he asks will I give him, no mother’s gifts be mine,\n\nBut ever the worst and the meanest that my skill may aye divine.*-\n245 And she thought her, Queen Herzeleide, ( Many folk thro* the world shall fare\nWho love mocking—On his fair body my son shall a Fool’s dress wear,\nThen sure when the mockers see him, and to scoff at his garb are fain,\n\nAn he at their hands be smitten, then he cometh to me again I ’\n\nDigitized by\n\nGo )gle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nAlas! for a woman’s canning, and the cruelty of mother’s love,\n\nShe chose from her stores a sackcloth, the coarsest that might be wove, a 5 °\nAnd a garment of this she made him that should reach e’en unto his knee;\n\nFor his sunny hair such covering as on fools men are wont to see;\n\nAnd instead of hose she bound him on his limbs so strong and fair\nLeggings of undressed calf-skin—And all wept who beheld him there.\n\nThen his mother with forethought bade him to tarry till morning light, 255\n‘ Nor from hence would 1 have thee journey till my rede thou hast heard\naright—\n\n‘ Keep thou ever from paths untrodden andford not the darkling stream.\n\nWhere the waters flow dear and limpid, there safe is the ford I ween.\n\nAnd be ever fair and courteous, greet all men who pass thy way .\n\nIf a wise man old and grey-headed would teach thee, as well he may, 260\n\nAll courteous ways andfitting, as his word so shall be thy deed.\n\nNor wax wroth if by whiles he chide thee, but give to my words good heed.\n\nAnd one thing, my son, would I tell thee, const thou win from a maid her\nring\n\nAnd her greeting fair, thou shalt take them, and sorrow hath lost her sting l\nIf a kiss from her lips she will give thee, and thine arms shall the maid enfold, 965\nBe shepureand true thou art blessld, and thy strength shall wax high and boldP\n\n‘ And hearken my son, a proud knight, L&helein, do men call hi9 name,\n\nFrom thy princes two lands hath wrested, else from them couldst thou\ntribute daim.\n\nAnd Waleis they are and Norgals—and one of thy princes brave,\n\nTurkentals, hath he slain, and thy people he hath smitten and doth enslave.’ 270\n‘ For such wrong will I vengeance, mother, if vengeance be here God’s will,\n\nBe he never so strong with my javelin I think me to wound him still.’\n\nThen e’en at the daylight’s dawning the boy would no longer stay,\n\nFor the thought of King Arthur’s glory yet heavy upon him lay.\n\nThen Queen Herzeleide kissed him, and she sped swift his steed behind, *75\nAnd the sorrow of sorrows smote her when her boy sbfe no more, might\nfind.\n\n(Hence he rode and what heart rejoiceth ?) Then the queen from all false¬\nhood free,\n\nFell low on the earth, and grief tare her till death must her portion be!\n\ni Google\n\nDigitized by *\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nYet I wot that her death so faithful it hath saved her from pains of Hell,\na 8 o And to be of such son the mother, it repayeth all anguish well 1\n\nThus she, the root of all goodness whence humility's flower might blow,\nHerself on a pilgrimage wended that a goodly goal should know.\n\nWoe worth us 1 that none of their children should live still, to hand us down\nIn these days when we look on falsehood their honour and fair renown.\n\n385 And therefore shall faithful women wish well to this lad so bold,\n\nWho rideth fair ventures seeking, whose journey ye now behold!\n\nThen the gallant lad rode onward on his way toward Briziljan’s wood,\n\nAnd he came to a rippling streamlet, and a cock well might wade that flood!\nAnd flowers in the grass were blooming, yet so darkling ran the wave\n390 That the lad he thought not to ford it; but as wit the counsel gave,\n\nSo he followed its course thro* the daylight, and he passed as he could the\nnight,\n\nTill he saw once more the morning, and he came to a fair ford bright.\n\nOn the further side was a meadow, and a tent decked the grass so green,\nAnd tall was the tent wide-spreading, and riches thereon were seen;\n\n295 ’Twas of samite of threefold colours, on the seams lay fair ribbons wide,\n\nAnd a leathern covering hung there, 'gainst the rain-cloud to guard its pride.\n\n('Twas Duke Orilus of Lalandfe, whose wife he beneath it found—\n\nShe lay there in peaceful slumber with riches happed fair around,\n\nA Duchess she was, well worthy the love of a gallant knight,\n\n300 And the venture it tells that Jeschutd was the name of that lady bright)\n\nSoftly the princess slumbered,—yet weapons of love she bore;\n\nA mouth so red and glowing, that a knight’s heart had wounded sore,\n\nAnd e’en as she slept they parted asunder, her lips so bright,\n\nThat the fire of loye had kindled, (fit venture for gallant knight)\n\n305 And even as ivory snow-white, and little, and close the row\n\nOf the teeth that gleamed white betwixt them—methinks that a man were\nslow\n\nTo use himself to such kisses from a mouth that all men might praise—\n\nI wot that so fair a guerdon but seldom hath crowned my days!\n\nA covering of richest sable over foot and knee was thrown,\n\n310 (For the heat she aside hath cast it, whom her lord had thus left alone)\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nAnd her form it was fairly fashioned, and wrought by a skilful hand,\n\nSince ’twas God Himself in His wisdom who so fair a work had planned.\n\nAnd long was her arm and rounded : on her snow-white hand a ring\nGleamed golden, and when he saw it the lad to her side did spring;\n\nFor had not his mother told him such jewels were the guerdon fair 315\n\nThat a knight well might crave ? and he thought him he fain would such token\nbear!\n\nThen the lady awoke in terror as his clasp on her white arm fell,\n\nAnd gazed in startled wonder and wrath as beseemed her well;\n\n‘ Who is it, who thus would shame me ? Nay, sir, thou art all too free !\n\nGo, choose thee some fairer maiden, my favours are not for thee ! * 3 *>\n\nIn vain might she weep and bewail her ; he asked not her yea, or nay,\n\nBut took from her lips unwilling the kiss she would fain gainsay;\n\nAnd the ring of gold from her finger with ungentle hand he’Id take,\n\nAnd the clasp that her shift had fastened from the garment he roughly brake :\n\nIn vain were her tears and struggles, she was but a woman still, 3 2 5\n\nAnd his strength was to hers as an army, perforce must she do his will\nThen the lad spake aloud, he hungered, from his hand was the lady free,\n\nAnd she quoth, * Of a truth ’twere better thou shouldst not make meal of me!\n\nIf thou wert but a little wiser thou wouldst choose thee some other meat,\n\nThere stand bread and wine, and two game-birds, of them mayst thou freely 33 °\neat,\n\nMethinks when my maiden brought them, ’twas scarcely of thee she thought!’\nThen be asked not where sat the hostess, but he ate e’en as hunger taught,\n\nAnd he drank his fill; and the lady she deemed all too long his stay,\n\nFor she thought him bereft of his senses, and she wished he were well away,\nAnd for fear and shame the sweat-drops stood thickly upon her brow— 335\n\nAnd she spake, ‘ Thou my ring shalt give me, and the clasp thou didst take\nbut now,\n\nAnd get thee away, if he cometh, my husband, then shalt thou bear\nThe weight of his wrath, and I think me thou wouldst then wish thyself\nelsewhere! ’\n\nQuoth the noble youth, ‘ What care 1 how fierce thy lord’s wrath may be ?\n\nIf my presence doth shame thine honour, then from hence will I swiftly 340\nflee.’\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nPARZTVAL\n\nAnd he stepped to the bedside boldly, and kissed her as there she lay,\n\nTho* little it pleased the Duchess, and without leave he rode away;\n\nAnd he spake a word of parting as he vaulted upon his steed,\n\n4 God have thee in His safe keeping, so my mother she gave me rede. 1\n\n345 Then the lad he was glad of his booty, and thus did he ride a while—\nMethinks there was little lacking that from hence he had gone a mile,\n\nEre he came of whom I would tell you: on the dew he the tracks might\nsee\n\nOf one who had sought his lady—The tent-ropes displaced should be\nWhere the lad thro 1 the grass had ridden ; then the gallant Duke and proud\n35 o Found his lady within in sorrow, and Orilus spake aloud,\n\n4 Alas ! for the service done thee—for smitten and put to shame\nIs the crown of my knightly honour, since another thy love can claim ! ’\nThen little, alas ! might it profit that with streaming eyes she swore\nNo lover had she save her husband,—he would hearken her tale no more.\n\n355 Then she spake in her fear and anguish, 4 'Twas a fool , he who came to me,\nAnd yet tho’ a fool, of all men I wot he may fairest be!\n\nMy ring and my clasp gold-gleaming, he took them against my will! *\n\n4 Nay, I doubt not so well he pleased thee, thou didst grant him more favours\nstill,*\n\n4 Now, God forbid ! for his fooPs garb and his javelin were e’en too near,\n\n360 It shameth us both, my husband, such words from thy lips to hear!\n\nAre queens wont to love thus lowly, that thou speakest such words of me ?\nThou wrongest our royal breeding, when thou deemest such things may be! *\n\nThen the Duke spake, 4 This shame, O lady! alone hast .thou won from me,\nThou dost call thyself Qpeen no longer ; tho’ thy title shall Duchess be\n365 Little good hath that bargain brought me—So bold shall my manhood be,\nThat thy brother, King Lac’s son Erec, for that cause beareth hate to\nthee:\n\nHe is wise, and right well he knoweth that my fame so high shall stand\nThat nothing shall stain mine honour, save at Prurein when his right hand\nIn knightly joust once felled me, but that have I paid right well,\n\n370 In a joust at Karaant I smote him, and behind his steed he fell,\n\nAnd his pledge did he yield unto me,—thro* his shield I thy token bare,\n\nI thought not, my wife Jeschutl, with another thy love to share ! *\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\n‘ Thou mayst also well assure thee that the son of King Gan dein,\n\nProud Galoes, once lay lifeless before this arm of mine;\n\nAnd thou thyself wast witness when the Knight Plihopleheri 375\n\nRode swift in a joust against me, nor his strife it hath passed me by,\n\nMy spear from the saddle thrust him that his charger he sat no more;\n\nYea, great was the feme that 1 won me by my prowess in days of yore, *'\nMany knights have I borne from their chargers,—yet it profiteth not I ween,\n\nNor outweigheth the bitter shaming that thro 1 thee bath my portion been!’ 3*>\n\nAnd with reason good do they hate me, those knights of the Table\nRound,\n\nSince eight of their bravest champions have I borne unto the ground,\n\nAnd many fair maidens saw it, when at Kanedig fierce we fought\nFor the hawk; there was I the victor, and my hand feme to thee hath brought.\nAnd that didst thou see with King Arthur—At his court doth she dwell 3^5\nto-day,\n\nMy sister, sweet Kunnewaar<£, and grave is her mien alway,\n\nFor her lips may not move to laughter till the day that her eyes shall light\nOn him who of all shall be reckoned the fairest and bravest knight\nWould he come unto me, that hero ! Ah ! then should a strife be seen\nAs to-day in the early morning already my lot hath been. 390\n\n1 have fought, and a prince hath suffered, for joust he toward me sped,\n\nBut my spear-point so sorely smote him that he lay there before me, dead ! ’\n\n‘ Weil I know that in righteous anger for a lesser sin than thine\nFull many had slain the sinner, but I would not such deed were mine !\n\nFor the service of knightly honour that to thee I had offered fair, 395\n\nHenceforth shalt thou know but lacking; nor thy need do 1 think to\nspare—\n\nNo more with thy white arms circled in love and in peace 1 *11 lie,\n\nThose golden days of love’s glory have faded and passed us by,\n\nBut pale be thy mouth so rosy, and tear-dimmed thy shining eyes,\n\nFor joy shall be put far from thee, and thy heart’s songs be turned to sighs! ’ 40 °\n\nThen sadly she looked upon him, that princess so fair and true,\n\n* May it be for the honour of knighthood what seemeth thee best to do,\n\nWise art thou indeed and loyal, and I in thy power may be,\n\nAnd I know well that heavy sorrow and phin thou canst bring on me :\n\nDigitized by VjOOQ LC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n405 To the ordeal, I prithee, put me, and do this for all women’s sake,\nThereafter, an 1 be guilty, for my sin do thou vengeance take !\n\nIf another’s hand shall slay me, (for thee were such deed un-meet)\n\nThen gladly I’ll die—Dost thou scorn me? then welcome is death, and\nsweet! ’\n\nThen he broke out in bitter anger, ‘ If thy pride be still so great,\n\n410 It is meet I should meekness teach thee, tho’ the lesson be all too late— „\nNo more shall we be companions, together no more we’ll eat;\n\nBe our marriage couch forgotten and the hours of communion sweet.\n\nThis garment in which I found thee thy only robe shall be,\n\nAnd instead of jewelled bridle hempen twist will I give to thee;\n\n415 Thy steed be the guest of hunger, and thy saddle once decked so fair\nShall be robbed of its goodly trappings ! ’ and with hasty hand he tare\nThe samite adown, and he brake it, the saddle she rode erewhile,\n\n(Nor her gentle ways and seemly might his angry wrath beguile)\n\nWith a hempen cord he bound it—Too soon had she won his hate!\n\n430 As he did this he spake, * Now Lady, ’tis best we no longer wait,\n\nCould I reach him who shared thy favours, then fulfilled were my heart’s\ndesire,\n\nThe venture I Id face, though as dragon he were breathing forth flames\nand fire!’\n\nThen with weeping instead of laughter she passed from out the tent\nThat lady so rich in sorrow, and sadly her way she went;\n\n435 Yet more than she mourned her shaming she wept her lord’s grief, I ween,\nHis sorrow so sorely moved her, e’en death would have lighter been.\n\nNow of true heart shall ye bemoan her who thus did sore anguish know,\nAnd tho* hatred I won from all women, still I ’Id mourn for Jeschut£s woe !\n\nSo rode they upon the traces of the lad who before them fled,\n\n430 And, dauntless, he little thought him how a foeman behind him sped,\n\nBut whoever his eyes might light on, as his pathway they drew anear,/\n\nHe gave to him kindly greeting, ‘ Thus bade me my mother dear! */\n\nThus rode he, our lad so foolish, adown a mountain side,\n\nWhen a woman’s voice before him from amid the rocks loud cried ;\n\n435 *Twas a cry of heartfelt sorrow, for her joy was in ruins laid—\n\nThen swift rode the lad towards her,—Now hear what she did, this maid ;\n\nDigitized by vjiOCK^lC\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nShe tore, the maid Sigund, her plaits of long brown hair*\n\nFrom out her head thro* sorrow; and the lad he beheld her there,\n\nAnd he saw Schionatulander, the prince, on her knee lie dead,\n\nAnd the maiden she wailed above him, and her joy had for ever fled. 44°\n\n(* If sad be their mien or joyful, my mother she bade me still\n\nGreet all men, whoe’er might meet me) God keep thee from greater ill,\n\nFor in sooth a sorry treasure have I found on thy knee to-day 1\nWho hath wounded this knight?’ (For an answer the lad he would press\nalway)\n\n‘ Did one with a javelin slay him ? For Lady, he sure is dead ; 445\n\nWilt thou tell me naught ? Who hath slain him ? If he none too far hath\nfled\n\nMethinks I might overtake him, for gladly with him I ’Id fight! ’\n\nThen the lad he laid hold on his quiver wherein lay the javelins bright,\n\nAnd still in his hand tight clasp&d, the tokens twain he bore\n\nWhich he in his thoughtless folly erewhile from Jeschut£ tore. 45 °\n\nHad he known the courtly customs with his father’s life in-bound,\n\nHis shield were better smitten when the duchess alone he found\nWho thro’ him must suffer sorrow—for more than a whole year long,\n\nHer husband withheld his favour, tho’ in sooth did he do her wrong.\n\nNow list to this maid Sigun^ who her grief would bemoan as meet, 455\n\nShe spake to the lad,‘ Thou art courteous, all hail! to thy youth so sweet,\n\nAnd thy face so fair; yea bless&d thy lot shall hereafter be !\n\nNo javelin pierced this hero, but slain in a joust was he—\n\nFrom truth wast thou born who truly for another’s woe can grieve ! ’\n\nThen his name she was fain to hearken, ere the lad her side might leave, 460\nAnd she spake, God with skill had wrought him—But his answer was naught f\nbat this, etc*' '*** *\n\n* At home all who know me call me 'Bon fils , Cher fils , Beau fils ! *\n\nEre ever the word was spoken, the maiden she kn^w his name—\n\nNow hearken aright his title, that hereafter ye own his fame\n\nWho is hero of this my venture, who now standeth the maid beside— 4 6 5\n\nAnd her red lips they spake unfaltering, ‘Thou art ParzivalJ she cried,\n\nAnd thy name it shall mean 'topierce thro*,’ for thy mother’s faithful heart\nWith furrow of grief was riven when ^he frp^ ^^ lpr^ must part:\n\n8o\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd I speak not that those shouldst vaunt thee; thy mother my aunt shall be,\n470 And in truth, with no guile of falsehood, thy race will I tell to thee 1’\n\n‘ An Angevin was thy father, thy mother of fair Waleis,\n\nAnd I know for a truth thy birthplace was the city of Kanvoleis ;\n\nAnd thou art the King of Norgals, and there in the citadel\nAs king shalt thou bear the sceptre and crown as beseems thee well.\n\n47^for thy sake was he slain, this hero, who thy kingdom for thee would guard,\nHis truth it hath faltered never, tho’ in death did he find reward.\n\nTwo brothers have wrought thee evil, two kingdoms from thee have reft,\nAnd Orilus this thy kinsman in a joust hath lifeless left.\n\nAnd me too hath he left in sorrow—He served me nor thought it shame,\n\n480 This prince of thy land, where my childhood did thy mother’s tending claim.\nNow fair and sweet my cousin wouldst thou hear how he met his end ?\n’Turns the fair wove leash of a brachet that brought sorrow unto my friend—\nHe hath served us twain, in our service hath he won him but death alone,\nAnd I, I have won but sorrow, and henceforth for his death make moan,\n\n485 For scant of wit was I surely, that I gave not my love afore—\n\nSo God hath my gladness shattered, and the dead 1 love evermore! ’\n\n' Then he spake, ‘ 1 must mourn, O cousin, thy grief, and my bitter wrong,\n\nOf a truth till I may avenge them the time seemeth over-long! ’\n\nThen straight would he ride to battle, but the way did she falsely show,\n\n490 For she feared were he slain then henceforward yet sorer should wax her woe.\nBut a road he found that led him straightway to the Breton’s land,\n\nAnd smooth and wide was that highway—An there met him on either hand\nAfoot or ahorse a merchant or knight, he would greet them still,\n\nFor so was his mother’s counsel; and she spake with ho thought of ill\n\n5oo\n\nBut great weariness o’ertook him, as darkened the eventide,\n\nAnd a house that was none too stately the youth in his folly spied.\n\n’Twas a churl he who sat within it, discourteous by birth and low,\n\n(A fisherman he, little kindness might one at his hand e’er know)\n\nThen the lad drew rein for he hungered, and craved of him drink and meat.\nBut the host quoth, * Nay, not a half-loaf shalt thou have at mine hand to\neat\n\nIn thirty years; he who waiteth, in the gifts of mine hand to share,\n\nO’er-long shall delay his journey—For none but myself I care,\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nThereafter perchance for my children—Thou comest not here to-day,\n\nHadst thou money or pledge ’twere other, then thine host would 1 be 5°5\nstraightway! ’ »\n\nThen Jeschutd’s clasp all golden the lad he would bid him take,\n\nAnd soon as the peasant saw it, with smiling mouth he spake,\n\n‘ Wilt thou stay here, sweet lad ? then due honour be thy portion from all\nwithin—*\n\n1 Wilt thou feed me to-night and to-morrow wilt help me the way to win\nTo King Arthur (for well I love him) then thyself mayst keep the gold ! * 5*°\n\n4 Yea, that will I do,’quoth the peasant, ‘for ne’er might mine eyes behold\nA face and form so comely—I will thee, as a marvel, bring\nTo the court, and the good Round Table, and the face of the noble king ! 5\n\nSo the lad thro* the night abode there, and ere ever the dawn of day\nHe roused himself full eager to get on his onward way, 5*5\n\nAnd the fisher,'he made him ready, and before the lad he ran,\n\nAnd the boy he rode behind him, and swift were both steed and man.\n\n(Herr Hartmann von Aue, and thy lady, the queenly Guinevere,\n\nAnd thy gallant lord, King Arthur, a guest do I bring ye here;\n\nNo tool is he for your mocking, nay, never a harp or lute, 5 20\n\nYe shall choose ye some other plaything, such, as courtesy well doth suit;\n\nElse will I thy lady Enid, and her mother Kamafite\n\nPass under the mill, and their honour with bitter scorn I ’ll smite—\n\nTho* I tune my song to mocking, and thy lips with mockery seal,\n\nYet here will I guard my hero lest thy scorn he perchance should feel!) 5 a 5\n\nWhen the lad with his guide so humble to the city walls drew near, ’ ^ ^\nAnd Nantes might be well discerned in the morning light so clear,\n\n‘ God keep thee, boy,’ said the fisher, ‘ thou seest where thou must ride.’\n\nQuoth the lad yet scant in knowledge, ‘ Yet nearer must thou be guide ! ’\n\n‘ Nay, nay, so proud as these court-folk, such folly be far from me, 53°\n\nAn’ a peasant came nigh unto them, his welcome would sorry be ! 5\n\nSo alone the lad rode onward o’er a plain that was none too wide,\n\nAnd the flowers stood fair around him and blossomed on every side,\n\nVOL. I. Digitized by F\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nNo Kurwenal was hw-teacher and of courtesy knew he naught—\n\n535 They know it not, the untravelled, till the world hath wisdom taught—\n\nOf hempen twist his bridle, and feeble and faint his steed,\n\nAnd oft it fell, as stumbling it went o’er the flowery mead.\n\nAnd nowhere upon his saddle fair leather and new was seen ;\n\nAnd of samite fair and ermine full great his lack had been.\n\n540 No mantle clasp he needed, nor knightly garb he wore,\n\nOf blazoned coat or surcoat; his javelin alone he bore.\n\nHe whose deeds were praised of all men, his father so brave and wise,\n\nWas robed in far other fashion on the carpet ’fore Kanvoleis !\n\nHe who ne’er felt the sweat of terror, to him did a knight draw near ;\n\n545 Then he greeted him, ‘ May God keep thee! thus bade me my mother\ndear.’\n\n‘God reward thee, lad, and thy mother,’ swift answer the knight would\nbring,\n\n(Uther Pendragon reared him, he was cousin unto the king,\n\nAnd unto the land of Bretagne did the self-same knight lay claim)\n\nHe was Ither of Gaheviess, ‘ The Red Knight * they called his name.\n\n550 All dazzling red was his armour, the eye from its glow gleamed red ;\n\nRed was his horse swift-footed, and the plumes that should deck its head,\n\nOf samite red its covering; redder than flame his shield;\n\nFair-fashioned and red his surcoat; and the spear that his hand would\nwield\n\nWas red, yea, the shaft and the iron ; and red at th$ knight’s desire\n555 Was his sword, yet the blade’s fair keenness was not dimmed by the raging\nfire.\n\nAnd the King of Cumberland, stately, in his mailed hand did hold\nA goblet, with skill engraven, and wrought of the good red gold—\n\nFrom the Table Round had he reft it—All red was his shining hair\nYet white was his skin, and kindly his speech to the lad and fair.\n\n560 ‘ Now hail to thy fair young body, that in sooth a true woman bare,\nYea, bless&d is she thy mother! Ne’er saw I a face so fair,\n\nAnd the light of thine eyes, I think me, is kindled by love alone,\nAnd Love shall in thee be victor, as by thee Love is overthrown 1\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\n«3\n\nAnd in thee is the joy of woman, whose bliss finds in thee its goal,\n\nAnd for thee shall the load of sorrow weigh heavy upon the soul— 565\n\nNow do me this grace I pray thee, an thou wend thee unto the town\nBear greeting from me to King Arthur, and his heroes of high renown,\n\nAnd say that no fleeting vision am I who now speak with thee,\n\nBut here I abide, and await him who thinketh to joust with me ! 1\n\n‘ And never a man will wonder : to the Table Round I came 570\n\nAnd there, in the heroes’ presence to my kingdom would I lay claim,\n\nAnd with hasty hand 1 raised it, this cup, and the wine out-poured\nThe robes of the queen besprinkled, as she sat there beside her lord.\n\nThis 1 did as the custom olden of one who would claim his right\nFor better I thought the wine-cup, than the straw-wisp all alight, 575\n\nFor its smoke perchance had soiled me, thus I chose it not’ spake the king,\nc Nor for robbery rode I hither, my crown doth forbid such thing—\n\nSay thou to the queen that the wine-drops, they fell on her ’gainst my will\nWhere those heroes sit, nor remember, nor their knighthood as meet\nfulfil.\n\nWhether kings they shall be or princes o’er-long doth he thirst their king ! 580\nThis cup, why delay to fetch it ? Their fame it hath taken wing ! ’\n\nThen the lad spake, ‘ I’ll bear thy message, yea, e’en as thou biddest me. 1\nAnd then unto Nantes fair city he gat him right speedily,\n\nAnd many a youth they followed to the court of the palace fair,\n\nAnd *twas filled with a motley gathering, and they thronged him and pressed 585\nhim there. '\n\nThen Iwanet sprang from out them, and this youth from falsehood free\nHe gave him a kindly greeting, and he proffered him company.\n\nAnd the lad he quoth,‘God keep thee, (so my mother she bade me speak\nEre yet from home 1 wended) King Arthur I fain would seek\nBut here see 1 full many an Arthur! Who of all these shall make me knight ? ’ 59°\nThen Iwanet laughed loud ‘I will show thee, not yet hast thou seen the\nright!’\n\nTo the Table Round he led him where sat the heroes all\n\nAnd as best he could for the tumult cried the lad thro’ the lofty hall,\n\n‘God keep ye all ye heroes!. I greet ye both queen and king,\n\nFor thus did my mother bid me fair greeting to ye to bring.\n\nDigitizea by VJ UCJ VIL\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd all who have won by their valour at the Table Round a seat\nYe gallant knights and heroes, ye too did she bid me greet!\n\nBut in one thing my skill doth fail me, who is host here 1 may not know;\n\nTo him do I bear a message from a knight who all red doth glow,\n\n600 He waiteth without the portal (methinks he is fain to fight)\n\nThat he spilt o'er the queen the wine-cup that sorely doth grieve the knight—\nAh 1 if I his gear so goodly from the king's hand as gift might take,\n\nIn sooth were I rich in gladness—so knightly and fair its make 1 *\n\nThus spake the youth gay and careless, and the courtiers they thronged\naround\n\n605 And hither and thither pressed him till scarce might he stand his ground :\nAnd well did they look upon him, for each for himself might see\nThat never in man or maiden might the fruit of love fairer be.\n\nAnd in truth it was no ill working that in Parzival God had wrought,\n\nI n whom never a sight of terror had wakened of fear a thought\n\n610 Thus they brought him before King Arthur, he whom God for a wonder chose.\nAnd no man might bear him hatred—Then the queen from her seat arose\nAnd she gazed for a space upon him ere she passed from out the hall\nWhere the wine from the golden goblet perforce on her robes must fall.\n\nThen Arthur he looked upon him—To the simple youth he spake,\n\n615 ‘ Now lad to thy kindly greeting a kindly answer take,\n\nFor this would I do thee service, yea with body alike and land ;\n\nThis I speak of a true heart truly, so my will doth toward thee stand! ’\n\n* Would to God that were true 1 Now I think me it well-nigh a year shall be\nThat I fain would be knight, lacking knighthood all else seemeth ill to me 1\n620 Now make thou no more delaying, be knighthood my lot straightway.’\n\nQuoth the king, ‘ I were fain to do so if worth fail me not alway,\n\nSo noble art thou to look on ; and goodly gifts and rare\n\nWould I give thee ; to do thee service I’ll naught of my treasure spare.\n\nYea, loath had I been to refuse thee, wait but for to-morrow’s light,\n\n625 And I myself will dower thee with all that befits a knight. 1\n\nThe lad like a bird new cag&d, he shook himself to and fro,\n\nAnd he quoth, ( For naught do I ask thee! But that knight who as fire doth\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nGURNBMANZ\n\nIf thou givest me not his armour no gift will I take from thee,\n\nMy mother will not withhold it—For a queen shall she surely be. 1\n\nThen Arthur he quoth, * That armour so gallant a knight doth wear 630\n\nThat to give thee a gift so goodly methinks I may hardly dare.\n\nAnd guiltless I live in sorrow since his homage I must forego,\n\nIt her he is of Gaheviess; thro 1 my joy hath he wrought me woe. 1\n\n‘ Now my King sure it were ungracious to say to his pleading nay,\n\nThou shalt give him what he desireth, nor think it too great,’ quoth Kay, 635\n\n* Let him forth to the plain ; bid him bring thee the cup if it be thy will 1\nHere hast thou the whip, there the top is, let the child have of sport his\nfill\n\nThe women, forsooth, will praise him, and it seemeth good to me\nHe should learn to take blows an he gives them, many such will his portion\nbe.\n\nFor the life of the twain what care I ? Each of us needs must have his day, 640\nIf thy dogs for the spoil shall hunger, thou must e’en give thy dogs their\nway.*\n\n4 1 were loath to refuse his pleading, yet I feared lest he here be slain,\n\nAnd to knighthood I fain had helped him.’ Thus Arthur he spake again.\n\nThus the lad won the gift he craved for, which many perforce must rue,\n\nAnd young and old they followed, as forth from the hall he flew. 645\n\nBy the hand would Iwanet lead him, ’fore a bower that was none too high,\n\nAnd backward and forward turning the lad gazed with eager eye.\n\nAnd the bower was so low that within it the lad he both heard and saw,\n\nAnd therefrom did he win a sorrow that vexed him with torment sore.\n\nThe queen from her bower window to look on the sight was fain, 650\n\nAnd her knights and maidens round her they gazed and they gazed again.\n\nAnd the maiden Kunnewaarl she sat there, the fair and proud,\n\nAnd never, that man might wot of, had she laughed or low or loud.\n\nFor never she vowed, an she died first, would she laugh ere her eyes might\nsee\n\nThat knight, who of knights the bravest or was, or henceforth should be. 655\nAs the lad rode beneath the window she brake into laughter sweet,\n\nAnd her back was sore from the guerdon—reward for a maid unmeet!\n\nDigitized by njOUVIL\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nFor Kay the Seneschal seized her, the maiden of fair Lalande,\n\nBy her waving hair, and the tresses^he wound fast around his hand,\n\n660 Without a band he bound her—Tho’ never an oath she sware\nHis staff he laid unknightly on her maiden shoulders fair,\n\nAnd ere ever the sound of the smiting on the ear had died away\nThro’ white skin and royal raiment had he wounded the maid that day.\n\nAnd thus did he speak in his folly, ‘ Now hast thou thine own fair fame\n665 Cast aside, and I wot thou hast done it to thine own mending shame!\n\nNow see, e’en in flight have I caught it, and I bring it to thee once more\nIn such wise thou mayst well remember, and be e’en in the memory sore :\nFor I wot well unto King Arthur, to his court and his palace hall\nMany gallant men have ridden, yet hast thou despised them all,\n\n670 And ne ’er hast thou smiled upon them—And now doth thy laughter ring\nFor one knowing naught of knighthood 1 Unseemly I deem this thing!’\n\nNow whate’er might be done in anger I wot well no king’s decree\nHad bid him thus smite the maiden ; and her friends mourned her bitterly.\n(Might she bear knightly shield and armour it had helped not this sore\ndisgrace,\n\n675 Discourteous the blows were smitten.) She came of a royal race,\n\nHad her gallant brothers seen it, Lahelein and Orilus\nFar fewer blows had fallen; she ne’er had been smitten thus.\n\nNow Sir Antanor the Silent, who thro’ silence a fool was thought,\n\n(His speech and the maiden’s laughter on a self-same thread were wrought)\n680 For never a word would he utter till she laughed whom Kay thus did smite,\nAs clear rang the maiden’s laughter, aloud spake the silent knight,\n\n( Now here before God I tell thee, Kunnewaarl of fair Lalande\n\nThou hast wronged for that lad, and thy guerdon awaiteth thee at his hand,\n\nNor so weak shall he be, nor so foolish, but he turneth thy bliss to bale!’\n\n685 ‘ And thy speech thou hast found but to threaten for joy shall it naught\navail.’\n\nHis food would he make full bitter.—Kay smote him upon the ear\nWith his fist till naught but a singing and a whispering might he hear.\n\nAnd Parzival saw the sorrow of the maiden and Antanor,\n\nAnd his heart was hot for their shaming, and grief for their sake he bore.\n\nDigitized by' ^ooQle\n\nGURNEMANZ 87\n\nAnd he grasped his javelin tightly, but the throng pressed so dose around 690\nThat perforce the dart must he lower, lest some other aim it found.\n\nThus alone from the court of King Arthur rode the son of Gamuret,\n\nAnd he came to the plain where the Red Knight his foeman awaited yet;\n\nAnd he bare unto him the tidings how in Nantes was tl\\ere never a knight\nWhose heart yet yearned for jousting, or who lusted with him to fight 695\n\n* But a gift King Arthur gave me—I spake as thou saidst before,\n\nThat without thy will had it chanced thee the wine o’er the queen to pour,\n\nThy discourtesy sorely vexed thee—They think not to fight with thee.\n\nNow give me the steed thou ridest, and thine harness give thou to me,\n\nThey were given me in the palace, therein shall I be a knight, 7 °°\n\nWouldst withhold them, I will not greet thee—Yield thou what is mine of\nright 1 ’\n\nThen the King of Cumberland answered,‘If Arthur hath given to thee\nMine armour, my life he gave thee, if that life thou canst take from me,\n\nSo well doth he love his kinsmen ! Hath he known thee before to-day,\n\nThat so swiftly the service done him with such guerdon he would repay ?* 705\n\n* I may win what I will I trow me, of a sooth had he given me more ;\n\nNow leave thou thy claim on his kingdom—’Tis time I a knight’s shield\nbore\n\nFor squire will I be no longer 1 ’ He laid on the rein his hand\n‘ Thou art Lahelein, so I think me, who hath taken from me my land! ’\n\nThen the knight he turned his spear-shaft, and he struck with so true a blow 71°\nThat the lad and his sorry charger on the meadow he laid them low,\n\nAnd the hero was swift in his anger, and he smote with a will so good\n.That there where the spear-shaft struck him there sprang forth bright drops\nof blood.\n\nThen Parzival sprang up swiftly and stood wrathful upon his feet\nAnd he grasped his javelin firmly—Where the helm and the visor meet,, 715\n\nAnd betwixt the twain is an opening, there the javelin swiftly sped\nAnd thro’ eye and neck it struck him, and the knight on the plain lay dead.\nFierce foe had he been to falsehood; women’s sighs, true hearts wounded\nsore,\n\nWere the fruit of his death, and with tear-drops must many an eye run o’er.\n\nDigitized by vJiOO^lC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n/\n\n730 And they whom'his love made joyful their gladness asunder brake,\n\nAnd their joy to the goal of sorrow o’er a rough road its way must take.\n\nThen Parzival in hi s foll y turned the dead knight o’er and o’er,\n\nFor fain would he loose his armour, yet was lacking the needful lore.\n\nHe fingered both helm and corslet with his bare white hands alone,\n\n7 2 5 Yet the fastening he failed to loosen, nor with force might they be undone\nTho* oft and again he tried them, who in wisdom was all untaught.\n\nThen the horses they neighed so loudly that the sound on the breeze was\nbrought I\n\nTo Iwanet*s ear, and he heard them, by the city moat he stood,\n\n(To Queen Guinevere was he kinsman, and he did to her service good)\n\n730 He heard the cry of the horses, but naught of the riders saw,\n\nAs his true heart would give him counsel, Parzival did he seek once more.\n\nAnd Ither lay dead ; and his slayer by his folly was vexed amain—\n\nThen swiftly he sprang to aid him, and Parzival thanks must gain\nFor the honour he here had won him o’er the hero of Cumberland :\n\n735 ‘ God reward thee, but give me counsel for skill here doth fail mine hand,\nHow best may 1 loose this armour which myself I were fain to wear ? ’\n\n* Such lore 1 right well may teach thee,’ quoth Iwanet the proud and fair,\n\nSo the armour was reft from the dead man, ’fore Nantes on the grassy\nplain,\n\nAnd they did it upon the living, o’er whose dealings didipUy reign.\n\n740 Quoth Iwanet, ‘ These leather leggings fit not with the mailed gear,\n\nAs a knight shalt thou now be cloth&d,’ and the lad deemed it ill to hear ;\nQuoth Parzival, * What my mother aforetime hath given me\nThat cometh not from my body, or for good or for ill it be! ’\n\nAnd much did Iwanet marvel, for clever was he i’ troth,\n\n745 Yet he followed perforce his bidding, nor waxed at his folly wroth.\n\nAnd he drew above the leggings the hosen of shining mail,\n\nNor the spurs with red gold in-wroughten should unto the harness fail,\nAnd of silk and gold the laces, nor leather might there be found.\n\nEre he gave unto him the corslet he bound him with greaves around,\n\n750 And tho* o’er-long Parzival deemed it yet the time was swiftly sped,\n\nEre in knightly armour shining he clad him from foot to head.\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\n<9\n\nThen the lad would have ta’en his quiver, but Iwanet he spake out free,\n\n1 Nay, no javelin will I give thee, unknightly such arms shall be 1 ’\n\nThen he girt the sharp sword around him, and he showed how to draw the\nblafe -\n\nAnd he bade him ne’er fly in battle, nor in conflict to be dismayed. 755\n\nThen nearer he led unto him the charger the dead knight rode,\n\nAnd ’twas tall and strong, yet the saddle the youth with one spring bestrode,\n\nHe recked not the weight of his armour, and of stirrups had little need—\n\nE’en today do men speak of his swiftness, and the fame of his mighty deeds.\n\nNor o’er-much iid Iwanet think it to teach him with fitting skill 76°\n\nTo hold his shield and to guard him, while he wrought to his foeman ill;\n\nAnd a spear in his hand he gave him—But Parzival turned aside,\n\n‘ Nay, nay, what good may that do me ? ’ ‘ If a joust one with thee would ride\nThou shalt on thy foeman break it, perchance drive it thro’ his shield,\n\nIf thou doest that oft, ’fore the maidens will they praise thee for well-fought 7*5\nfield.’\n\nAnd this hath the venture told me,—Not in Maestricht, or e’en Cologne\nMight a painter so fair a picture as this lad and his steed have shown.\n\nThen straightway he spake to Iwanet, 1 My friend and companion dear,\n\nThe boon that I asked have I won me, of that art thou witness here.\n\nMy service bear thou to the city, to Arthur the noble king, 770\n\nAnd mourn unto him my shaming—This cup thou again shalt bring,\n\nAnd tell him a knight hath wronged me, since he smote that maiden fair\nWho looked, and who laughed upon me, and grief for her grief I bear.\n\nNor hath it but lightly touched me, it hath pierced to my inmost heart\nThis maid’s woe all undeserved—Now do thou in her shame have part 775\n\nThro* the friendship that thou hast shown me I God keep thee in peace\nalway,\n\nAnd watch o’er us twain, for I think me no longer I here may stay! *\n\nAnd lther the prince of Gaheviess on the plain had he lifeless left,\n\nE’en in death was he fair to look on who was thus of fair life bereft.\n\nIf in joust by a spear-thrust pierc&d he thro* knighthood his death must gain 7 ®°\nWho had mourned for the grief and the marvel ? By a javelin he here was\n\nslain.\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThen Iwanet he strewed above him a covering of blossoms bright,\n\nAnd he smote the shaft of the javelin in the ground by the fallen knight,\n\nAnd that lad so true and faithful, he pierced with the crimson blade\n785 A bough of wood, and in this wise a cross o’er the dead man made.\n\nThen he gat him again to the city, and the heavy tidings told ;\n\nAnd from many a trembling woman, and from many a hero bold\n\nRose the wail of love and of sorrow; and the dead would they fetch in state,\n\nAnd the Host they bare before her, as the queen passed the city gate.\n\n790 Then o’er Cumberland’s prince and hero, who by Parzival’s hand was slain,\nQueen Guinevere spake in sorrow while her tear-drops they flowed amain,\n\n* Alas 1 alas ! for broken in twain is King Arthur’s might,\n\nFor he whom the good Round Table accounted its bravest knight\nHere slain before Nantes he lieth ! His heritage did he claim\n795 Where men gave him death for his guerdon—For naught marred his knightly\nfame;\n\nHere long hath he dwelt among us in such wise that never an ear\nThe tale of a deed unknightly, or wrong he had done, might hear.\n\nHe held him afar from falsehood, to guile was he aye a foe;\n\nThe lock and the seal of knighthood all too soon must we bury low.\n\n800 His heart wise in courteous wisdom, and steadfast as seal and sign,\n\nTaught him ever the fairest counsel that a man’s heart might aye divine,\nWhereby with true love and courage a man woman’s love may woo\nAnd show manhood’s truth—Fruit-bearing it seedeth itself anew\nThe plant of all woman’s sorrow! From thy wounds grief shall ever grow—\n805 So red was thy hair that the blossoms that bloom here thy corse below\nScarce redder may be with thy life-blood—All laughter hast thou forbid\nTo fair women, and joy and gladness by thy death arte for ever hid.’\n\nThus Ither, beloved of all men, as a king in the grave was laid,—\n\nWith his life must he pay for his armour who taught sighing to many a maid,\n810 Since Parzival in his folly for the harness his death had sought,\n\nHereafter, when he won wisdom, he scarcely such deed had wrought!\n\nNOW this might ye mark in the charger, great labour it held as naught,\nWere it hot, were it cold, no journey the sweat on its coat had brought;\nIt sped over stone or tree-trunk, and scarce was there need to draw\n815 The girth by one hole the tighter if the knight for two days it bore.\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nSo fully armed, in his folly yet further he rode that day\n\nThan a wise man unarmed in two days if his steed he betimes would stay.\n\nAnd ever it onward galloped, and but seldom would walk or trot,\n\nHow to check its speed by the bridle as yet Parrival knew not\n\nThen he saw the roof of a castle rise fair in the evening glow, 8ao\n\nAnd the lad he thought in his folly that the towers from the earth must grow\nSince the one roof bare so many—And he thought Arthur sowed such seed,\n\nAnd he who could work such marvels were a holy man indeed !\n\nThen he said, ( While at home I tarried ne’er looked I on woodland field\nThat a crop so rich and so stately in growth might ever yield ; 825\n\nI think me my mother's people their labour but little know,\n\nFor never too dry, I think me, is the soil where their seed they sowj\nNow Gumemanz of Graharz of this mighty Burg was lord :\n\nAt his portal a spreading linden stood fair on the summer sward,\n\nNor too long nor too wide was the meadow, and the horse and the road 830\nthey led\n\nTo where Parzival found him seated who of castle and land was head.\n\nNow weariness sore constrained him, nor his shield might he rightly hold\nBut it backward and forward wavered as beseemed not a rider bold.\n\nAnd Prince Gumemanz sat all lonely, and the boughs of the linden tree.\n\nGave shade as was meet to its master, the captain of courtesy— 835\n\nAnd his life it fled from falsehood—'Then e’en as should be his right\nHe gave to the guest fliir welcome, and with him stood nor squire nor\nknight\n\nThen Parzival made him answer—In his folly he spake straightway,\n\n* My mother bade me seek counsel from an old man with locks of grey ;\n\nFor thy rede will I do thee service, for so did my mother speak 1’ 840\n\n‘ If here thou art come for counsel, and aid at my lips would seek,\n\nThy favour thou.still shalt leave me whatever my counsel be,\n\nIf thou will that thy prayer I hearken, and give rede as seem best to me! *\n\nThen the prince cast a yearling falcon from his hand and aloft it flew,\n\nAnd it winged its way to the castle, and its golden bells rang true, -845\n\n’Twas a messenger; and the pages came swiftly in garments fair,\n\nAnd he bade them to lead the guest in, and lodging as meet prepare; .\n\nDigitized by vj ■oogle\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd the lad he spake in his folly, ( My mother she told me true,\n\nAn thou follow an old man’s counsel his rede shalt thou never rue 1 *\n\n850 And the pages they led him straightway where stood many a gallant knight.\nAnd there in the castle courtyard from his steed did they bid him light\nSpake the youth, and he showed his folly, ( ’Tis a King who hath bidden me\nBe a knight, and whate’er befall me on this charger my seat shall be.\n\nMy mother she bade me greet ye 1 ’ And mother they thanked and son,\n\n855 (Both horse and man were wearied) then, the words of greeting done,\n\nFull many a time they urged him, but it cost them many a thought\nEre the lad within the castle, and from off his steed they brought\n, Then they led him to a chamber, and they prayed the stranger guest,\n\n* Let us loose thine harness off thee, that thy wearied limbs find rest’\n\n86 ^But scarce had they loosed his armour when lo 1 there came to view\nA garment e’en such as Fools wear, and leggings of calf-skin new ;\n\nThen startled and shamed they turned them, and they whispered each to all,\nAnd with bated breath the tidings ran swift through the castle hall,\n\nAnd the host for shame was speechless—But a knight spake in courtesy,\n\n865 1 Let that be as it may, one so noble mine eyes they might never see,\n\nAnd Good Fortune hath looked upon him by his mien so high and fair—\n\nAh 1 he whom Love’s light hath chosen, who bade him such garb to wear ?\nAnd it grieveth me sore to find thus on the World’s Joy such poor attire.\n\nAh! well for the mother who bare him, she hath won her full heart’s desire!\n870 And his helmet is decked so costly; ere his harness from him we took\nIt became him well, and knightly and noble I ween his look,\n\nAnd many a bruise and blood-stain the lad on his limbs doth bear.’\n\nQuoth the host, * ’Tis perchance a woman who bade him such garb to wear! ’\n\n‘ Nay, Sire, for so strange his bearing he would know not a maid to pray\n®75 To take from him knightly homage,—Tho* his face is so fair alway\n\nIt had fitted him well for Love’s service.’ Then the host spake, °Tis best\n\nWCSCC * )\n\nThis lad, in whose strange attiring a marvel for sure shall be\n\nThen to Parzival they betook them, and they found that a wound he bare\nFrom a spear that was never shattered, and the host for his hurts would care,\n880 And so kindly I ween his tending that a father, whose heartfelt love\nTo his children, found no denial, his faith might no better prove.\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nAnd he washed his wounds and bound them, the prince, with his own right\nhand,\n\nEre forth to the hall he led him where the evening meal should stand.\n\nAnd food die guest sore needed, and hungry was he alway,\n\nFrom the house of the fisherman fasting had he ridden at break of day, 885\nAnd his wound and the heavy harness which he before Nantes had won\nWrought him weariness sore and hunger ere ever the ride was done.\n\nFor from Arthur the King of the Bretons the whole day he needs must ride,\n\nNor his fast at the Court had broken, and now it was eventide.\n\nThen the host bade him eat at his table, and Parzival did his will, 890\n\nAnd the food it swiftly vanished, as if one would a manger fill!\n\nAnd Gurnemanz was well pleas&d, and ever the lad did pray\nTo eat as he would, and his hunger and weariness put away.\n\nWhen ’twas time, and the meal was ended, 1 Now weary art thou, I ween/\nQuoth the host to his guest, ( If this morning betimes thou a-foot hast been ?’ 895\n‘ God knoweth my mother slumbered, so early she ne’er doth wake.’\n\nThen the host he laughed, and he led him where rest he right well might take,\nAnd he bade him disrobe, tho’ unwilling, he needs must—An ermine fair\nThey cast o’er his naked body,—fairer fruit never woman bare !\n\nS'\n\nBy weariness taught to slumber, but seldom throughout the night 9°°\n\nOn his other side did he turn him, he might well wait the morning light\nThen the prince he bade his servants ere ever ’twas middle day,\n\nA bath, as was meet, make ready by the couch where the young knight lay,\n\nAnd roses they threw within it—And tho’ he no call might hear\n\nThe guest awoke from his slumbers, and he stepped in the waters clear. 905\n\nI know not who sent them hither, but maidens richly dressed,\n\nLovely and sweet to look on, all courteous sought the guest,\n\nThey washed his wounds and bound them with their hands so soft and white,\n(Nor should this o’er strange have seemed him who was reft of wisdom’s\nmight)\n\nAnd both ease he felt and gladness, nor his folly they made him rue— 910\n\nThus these fair and gentle maidens they tended the lad anew,\n\nAnd they spake ’twixt themselves, and he hearkened, yet never a word would\nsay,\n\nYet too early he might not deem it, for they shone as a second day,\n\nDigitized by VjOOQ 1C\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd their beauty it vied with the morning, yet his faimtss outshone the twain,\n9>5 For naught to the youth was lacking that favour and praise might gain.\nThen a linen cloth they proffered, but the lad he took it ill,\n\nAn he robed himself before them, their presence should shame him still\nPerforce must the maidens leave him, nor longer might linger there\nTho’ in sooth they would fain have questioned lest deeper the wounds he\nbare.\n\n930 (For such was the way of woman, and sueh is true woman’s will,\n\nTho* scatheless themselves yet the sorrow of a friend it doth work them ill.)\n\nThen he strode to the bed, and he found there fresh raiment so fine and\nwhite,\n\nWith a girdle he bound it round him, ’twas of silk and of gold so bright;\nAnd hosen of scarlet woollen they drew on the fearless knight,\n\n935 In sooth they well became him who was comely in all men’s sight\nAnd of ruddy brown well fashioned, (nor lining they thought to spare)\n\nWere robe alike and mantle, and within was the ermine fair,\n\nAnd without were they decked with sable, both black and grey in hue ;\nThen the gallant youth the mantle around his shoulders threw,\n\n930 With a belt so rich and costly he girt him round the waist,\n\nAnd the fastening of the mantle with a golden clasp was graced.\n\nAnd his mouth was red and glowing—Then his host he drew anigh,\n\nAnd many a proud knight followed, to greet him courteously,\n\nAnd e’en as ’twas done the heroes they spake with a great amaze\n935 ‘ Ne’er saw they a man so goodly ! *—And all would the mother praise\nWho such son to the world had given—And in truth and in courtesy\nThey spake, * Whatsoe’er he asketh for his service fulfilled shall be,\n\nAnd favour and love await him if his worth win its meed alway,’\n\n• And of those who hereafter saw him none were there who said them nay.\n\n940 By his hand the host then took him, and forth from his chamber led,\n\nAnd the prince fain would hear the story how the night hours with him had\nsped,\n\n‘ Were it otherwise, I think me that living I scarce might wake,\n\n’Twas well that my mother bade me thus shelter with thee to take\nEre yet from her I had ridden—May God requite ye both,\n\n945 For mercy Sir Knight, and kindness, hast thou shown to me nothing loth.’\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nSo went our hero witless where to God and the host they’d sing,\n\nAnd the prince by the Mass would teach him that which health to the soul\nshall bring.\n\nHe would rede him well of the Offering—Howto sign himself with the Cross,\nAnd thus work on the De%riLy£pgeance, who seeketh for aye our loss 1 1\n\nThen again to the hall of the castle and the morning meal they came, 950\nAnd the host set his guest beside him, and he ate without fear or shame.\n\nThen out spake the prince so courteous, * An' it seemeth not ill to thee,\n\nFain am I to know thy dwelling, and from whence thou art come tome?’\n\nThen frankly he told the story how his mother’s side he fled,\n\nOf the ring and the clasp so golden, and the winning the harness red. 955\n\nAnd the prince he knew the Red Knight, and his fate it pleased him ill,\n\nAnd the name of his guest he asked not but ‘The Red Knight’ he called /\nhim still.\n\nThen e’en as the meal was over, were they tamed the ways so wild,\n\nFor the host to his guest he quoth thus ( Thou speakest as doth a child,\n\nWhy hold not thy peace of thy mother, and otherwise turn thy speech ? 960\n\nAn thou follow henceforth my counsel far wiser the ways I *11 teach ! ’\n\ni And thus I begin, do thou hearken—From true shame shalt thou never flee,\n\nA shameless man, bethink thee, what place in the world hath he ?\n\nAs a bird that moulteth ever so his honour doth fall away,\n\nAnd hereafter he hath his portion in the fires of Hell for aye.’ 965\n\n‘ So noble methinks thy bearing, a folk’s Lord thou well mayst be ; / £ 3 7\n\nIf high be thy birth, and yet higher the lot that awaiteth thee,\n\nThen see that thy heart hath pity for the poor and needy man\nAnd fight thou against his sorrow with free gifts as best thou can,\n\nFor a true knight must aye be humble—A brave man who need doth know 970\nFull often with shame he battles, and sore is that strife I trow,\n\nFor him shall thy help be ready—(Who lighteneth his brother’s need\nFrom Heaven he winneth favour as rewarding for righteous deed.)\n\nFor in sooth his case is harder than theirs who as beggars stand\n\n’Neath the window, and succour seeking, for bread shall stretch forth the 975\n\nhand.’\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n‘ Thou shalt learn in a fitting measure both rich and poor to be,\n\nWho spendeth as lord at all times no lordly soul hath he—\n\nYet who heapeth o’er-much his treasure he winneth methinks but shame,\nBut give thou unto each their honour, so best shalt thou guard thy fame.’\n\n980 ‘ I saw well as thou earnest hither that thou hadst of my counsel need—\nYield not unto ways discourteous but give to thy bearing heed,\n\nNor be thou so swift to question —Yet I would not that thou withhold\nAn answer good and fitting to the speech one with thee would hold.\n\nThou canst hear and see, I wot well full five shalt thy senses be,\n\n985 An thou use them aright, then wisdom it draweth anear to thee.’\n\n‘ In thy wrath remember mercy, and slay not a conquered foe,\n\nHe who to thine arms shall yield him take his pledge and let him go ;\nUnless he such ill have wrought thee as sorrow of heart doth give,\n\nAn my counsel thou fain wouldst follow, then in sooth shalt thou let him live.’\n\n990 ‘ Full oft shalt thou bear thy harness—When thy knightly task is sped\nThy hands and face thou shalt cleanse them from the rust and the iron red,\nFor such is in truth thy duty, so thy face shall be fair and bright,\n\nAnd when maiden’s eyes behold thee they shall deem thee a goodly sight.’\n\n‘ Be manly and of good courage, so shalt thou deserve thy fame ;\n\n995 Hold women in love and honour, it shall be to thine own good name ;\n\nAnd be ever steadfast-minded as befitteth good man and true,\n\nAn with lies thou wouldst fain deceive them much harm can thy dealings do.\nIf true love be repaid with falsehood then swi(t shalt the judgment be,\n\nAnd a speedy end to all honour and renown shall it bring to thee.\n\n1000 As beneath the stealthy footsteps of the thief the dry stick breaks,\n\nAnd the slumbering watcher, startled, to his danger swiftly wakes\nSo false ways and dealings crooked in their wake bring but strife and woe ;\nProve this by true love, for true women have skill ’gainst the hidden foe,\n\nAnd their wiles can outweigh his cunning—An thou winnest from women\nhate,\n\n1005 Then for ever art thou dishonoured, and shame on thy life shall wait'\n\n( So take thou to heart my counsel—And more would I tell to thee ;\n\nHusband and wife united as one shall the^^ be,\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nAs the sun that this morning shineth, and this mom that we call to-day, *\n\nSo the twain may be sundered never but one shall be held alway.\n\nAs twin blossoms from one root springing e’en so shall they bloom and grow; 1010\nWith wisdom receive my counsel that its truth thou hereafter know.’ l~] )\n\nThen he thanked his host for his teaching, nor spake of his mother more,\n\nBut as true man and son so loving in his heart her memory bore.\n\n' / Then the prince spake as did him honour, 4 Yet more will I teach to thee,\n\nThou shalt learn knightly skill and bearing—In such wise didst thou come 10x5\n* to me,\n\nFull many a wall have I looked on that the shields might better deck\nThan that shield erewhile became thee, as it hung there around thy neck.\n\nNone too late shall be the morning, we’ll hence to the open field,\n\n• And fitting skill I’ll teach thee that thine arms thou mayst rightly wield.\n\nSo bring to my guest his charger, and mine shalt thou hither lead, 1000\n\nAnd each knight shall make him ready, and mount, e’en as I, his steed.\n\nAnd pages shall thither follow, and each one shall bear a spear,\n\nAnd the shaft shall be strong and untested, and blazoned with colours clear.’\n\nSo the prince and his guest together they rode to the grassy plain,\n\nAnd many a feat so skilful was shown by that knightly train. . 1095\n\nAnd the lad he learned how to check him his charger in seeming flight\nWith touch of spur, and turn him once more ’gainst the foeman’s might;\n\nHis spear to sink as needed, and before him hold his shield\nAs he rode a joust; * Thus shalt thou thine arms in future wield! ’\n\nThus of lack of skill he cured him better than by the bough 1090\n\nThat smiteth unruly children and breaketh their skin I trow.\n\nThen he bade swift knights come hither, and a joust with the stranger ride,\n\nAnd himself to the ring he led him, and against the foe would guide ;\n\nAnd the lad in his first jou9t carried his spear through the foeman’s shield,\n\nAnd tho* strong was the knight yet he smote him from his steed on the open 1035\nfield.\n\nAnd they marvelled much who beheld it—Then another to joust rode near,\n\nAnd Parzival took unto him a fresh and unbroken spear,\n\nVOL. L Digitized by V G\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd his youth had strength and courage—The beardless lad and fair\nWas spurred by his inborn manhood, and to Gamuret’s skill was heir—\n1040 Then he uiged his charger onward full swiftly against the foe,\n\nAnd his spear rang true on the four nails, and struck nor too high riSr low,\nNor the host’s knight might keep his saddle, but prone on the sward he fell,\nOf the spear-shaft full many a splinter the force of the blow might tell\nThus five of the knights were smitten ere the host to the Burg would ride,\n1045 And the victory was his, and hereafter fierce strife might he well abide.\n\nThen they who his deeds had witnessed, the wise men, they needs must say\nThat great was the skill and valour he had shown in the joust that day,\n\n* Our lord may be free of sorrow, and his youth it may bloom anew\nIf he give him to wife his daughter, our lady so fair and true.\n\n1050 If we see him wax in wisdom then the sorrow shall be o’erpast—\n\nThe death of his sons a shadow o’erlong o’er his life hath cast,\n\nBut now to his door hath ridden one who maketh amends for all,\n\nAnd gladness no more shall fly him, but it seeketh his palace hall! *\n\nThen homeward they turned at even when the board for the feast was\nspread,\n\n1055 And the prince bade his daughter hither (for so I the tale have read)\n\nAs he saw the maid draw near him the host to Liassd spake,\n\n( To this knight shalt thou do all honour, and a kiss from his lips shalt take.\nWith Good Fortune for guide he fareth 1 And of thee would I pray this\nthing,\n\nIf token perchance she beareth, thou wilt leave to the maid her ring—\n\n1060 Yet none hath she,[nor clasp—Who should give her what that forest princess\nwore ?\n\nFor she won from the hand of her husband what thine hand from her rai¬\nment tore,\n\nFrom Uassi cans! thou take little ’—Then the lad he must blush for shame.\nOn her lips did kiss the maiden, and her mouth it was red as flame.\n\nAnd Liassd was fair to look on, and gentle of heart and pure,\n\n1065 And a hero might well have loved her with a love that should aye endure.\n\nFull long and low was the table, nor many might sit thereat,\n\nAt its head was the prince so kindly, and his guest by his side he set\n\nDigitized by * L.oogle\n\nGURNEMANZ\n\nBetwixt him and his daughter, and the maiden with snow-white hand\nMust carve, as he willed, for the Red Knight, so her father would give\ncommand,\n\nAnd courteous, she did his bidding, and none did the twain prevent io 7 °\n\nAs shy glances rosy-blushing, they each to the other sent!\n\nThe feast over, the maiden left them, but she bade not the guest * Farewell,’\n\nFor twice seven days in honour Parzival with his host did dwell.\n\nBut within his heart lay a sorrow, ’twas no other I ween than this,\n\nHe would he enough had striven to be worthy of wedded bliss, 1075\n\nAnd he thought him a goal so worthy must lead to a guerdon high\nBoth in this life and e’en in the other—And these words they shall be no\nlie.-\n\nOne morning for leave he prayed him, from Graharz he fain would ride,\n\nAnd his host, sore loth to lose him, awhile rode his steed beside.\n\nFresh sprang of grief the fountain as the prince spake, ‘ I lose once more 1080\nA son, Death of three hath robbed me, thy loss now shall make them four .\n\nAnd threefold it was, my sorrow—Who my heart would in pieces smite\nFourfold and from hence would bear them, in the pain should I find\ndelight.\n\nOne for thee, since thou ridest from me, and three for my three sons slain—\nBravely they fell in battle, such guerdon doth knighthood gain ! ’ 1085\n\n‘ And its end is of sorrow woven—One death all my joy doth lame,\n\nThe death of my son so gallant, Schenteflur did they call his name ;\n\nWhen Kondwiramur her kingdom and herself would withhold with strife\nFrom Klamidd the king, and Kingron, in her aid did he lose his life,\n\nAnd my heart with the thrust of sorrow, as a hedge is it pierced thro’. 1090\n\nNow all too soon dost thou leave me since no comfort from thee I drew,\n\nAh ! would Death were here my portion since Liass£, that maiden bright,\n\nAnd the land I had deemed so goodly find no favour in this thy sight! ’\n\n‘ My other son, Count Laskoit, by Id£r son of Noit was slain\n\nAnent a hawk—Little gladness from his death I methinks might gain— 1095\n\nGurzgrei did they call my third son, to whom Mahaut gave her heart,\n\nAs his wife did he win the maiden from her brother proud Ekun&t.\n\nDigitized by VJUUV LC\n\nIOO\n\nPAB.ZIVAL\n\n’Gainst Brandigan on a venture for Schoie-de-la-kurt he’Id ride,\n\nAnd the Prince Mabonagrein smote him, and there by his hand he died,\naooo And Mahaut she lost her beauty, and his mother, my wife, lay dead,\n\nFor thro’ sorrow and bitter yearning the days of her life were sped.’ ..\n\nThen the guest saw his host’s deep sorrow as he told unto him his woe,\n\nAnd he quoth, ‘ Little wisdom have I, yet if ever the day I know\nWhen I win knightly fame and honour, so that maiden I well may woo,\n\n2005 Thou shalt give unto me Liassd, thy daughter so fair and true.\n\nThou hast told me of o’er-much sorrow; if thy grief I may lift from thee\nFrom the load of so sore a burden I gladly will set thee free! ’\n\nThen leave from the prince so kindly the young knight that mom would\npray,\n\nAnd from all his gallant vassals ; and he rode from their land away;\n\n2010 And the prince, in the game of sorrow, tho* heavy before his throw,\n\nHad lost yet more, for from threefold to fourfold his grief must grow.\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nROOK IV\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook iv. tells how Parzival came to Pelrap&r, and found it besieged by\nsea and land, and the folk wasted by famine. How Queen Kondwiramur\nbesought his aid; how he overthrew Kingron, and sent him to the court\nof King Arthur. How Parzival wedded the Queen; and of the wrath\nof King Klamidd when he heard the tidings. How the Burgers defended\nPelrapar against their foemen; how Klamid£ challenged Parzival to single\ncombat, and was overthrown; and how he came to the court of King\nArthur at. Dianasdron. Of the love of Parzival and Kondwiramur; and\nhow the hero parted from his wife, and went in search of knightly venture.\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle",
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