{ "meta": { "schema_version": "1.1", "endpoint": "/api/sources/grail-romances/parzival/04-book-iv-condwiramur.json" }, "work": { "slug": "parzival", "name": "Parzival" }, "parents": [ { "slug": "grail-romances", "name": "Holy Grail Romances", "url": "/sources/grail-romances/" } ], "chapter": { "num": 5, "slug": "04-book-iv-condwiramur", "title": "Book IV: Condwiramur", "of": 17, "words": 9774, "text": "## Book IV: Condwiramur\n\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nHUS Parzival parted from them, and courteous he now might\nbear\n\nHis knightly garb, and he knew them, the customs of knight¬\nhood fair.\n\nBut alas ! he full sore was troubled with many a bitter pain,\nAnd the world was too close, and too narrow the width of the spreading\nplain,\n\nAnd the greensward he thought was faded, and his harness had paled to 5\nwhite;\n\nSo the heart the eye constraineth and dimmeth awhile the sight\n\nFor since he had waxed less simple somewhat of his father’s lore,\n\nThe desire of the man for the maiden, in his wakening heart he bore ;\n\nAnd he thought but of fair Liass£, that maiden so true and sweet,\n\nHow never her love she proffered, yet with honour the guest would greet io\n4uad wherever his horse might turn it he took in his grief no heed,\n\nAnd if slowly it paced or swiftly he thought not to guide its speed.\n\nNor many a field well-fenced nor wayside cross he found;\n\nNor chariot-wheel nor horse-hoof had furrowed with tracks the ground;\nUntrodden the woodland pathway, nor wide was I ween the way, 15\n\nAnd he knew not the hills and the valleys—Full oft shall ye hear men say,\n\n‘ Who rideth astray, in his wandering the lost axe may often find. 1\nThey lay here unnumbered round him, if for axe ye have trees in mind.\n\nYet tho* far was the road he journeyed yet he went in no wise astray,\n\nAnd thus from the land of Graharz he rode through the livelong day,\n\nDigitized by vjiOCK^lC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nTill he came to the kingdom of Brobarz thro’ mountains wild and high—\nWhen the shadows of evening lengthened, and red flushed the western sky,\nThen he came to a mountain torrent, and the voice of the raging flood\nRang clear as its waves rushed foaming round the crags that amid them stood.\n25 So he rode adown by the waters till he came to the city fair\n\nWhich a king had bequeathed to his daughter; ’twas the city of Pelrapar,\nAnd I wot that tho’ fair the maiden who bare of that land the crown,\n\nGreat grief and small gladness had they who dwelt in that noble town !\n\nLike an arrow that swiftly speedeth from the bow by a strong arm bent,\n\n30 The waters onward rushing on their downward pathway went;\n\nAnd a bridge hung high above them with woven work so fair,\n\nAnd the stream it flowed swift to the ocean—Well-guarded was Pelrapar,\nAs children in swings delight them, and swing themselves to and fro,\n\nSo swung the bridge, yet ropeless, youthful gladness it scarce might know 1\n\n35 And on either side were standing, with helmets for battle bound,\n\n* Of knights e’en more than thirty, and they bade him to turn him round,\n\nAnd with lifted swords, tho* feeble, the strife would they gladly wait,\n\nThey thought ’twas the King Klamidd whom they oft had seen of late,\n\nSo royally rode the hero to the bridge o’er the field so wide—\n\n40 As thus to the youth they shouted, and with one voice his arms defied,\n\nTho’ he spurred his steed full sharply it shrank from the bridge in fright,\nBut ne’er knew he a thought of terror—To the ground sprang the gallant\nknight,\n\nAnd he led his horse by the bridle where the bridge hung high in air,\n\nToo faint were a coward’s courage so bitter a strife to dare!\n\n45 And well must he watch his footsteps for he feared lest his steed should fall—\nFrom the other side of the water the knights had ceased their call,\n\nAnd with shield and sword-blade gleaming within the town they passed,\n\nFor they feared lest an army followed, and they closed their portals fast.\n\nSo Parzival crossed the river, and he rode o’er a grassy plain\n50 Where many in search of knighthood must death for their guerdon gain ;\nAnd he came to the palace portal, and stately the Burg and high,\n\nAnd there hung there a ring of iron, and he gripped it right manfully.\n\nBut none to his call made answer, save only a maiden bright\n\nWho looked forth from out her window, and was ’ware of the gallant knight.\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nSpake the maiden so fair and courteous, ‘ An thou comest, Sir Knight, as foe, 55\nLittle need have we of thine hatred, for heavy enough our woe,\n\nA wrathful host doth threaten already by sea and land! ’\n\nThen he quoth, ‘ Nay, gentle lady, at thy portals a man doth stand\nWho will, if he can, do thee service ! For thy service my hand is fain,\n\nAnd never reward save thy greeting as payment I think to gain.’ 60\n\nThen the maiden she went in her wisdom to the queen and an entrance\nprayed\n\nFor the knight, and in sooth his coming it brought to their sorrow aid.\n\nSo Parzival came to the city; down the roadway on either hand\n\nfolk who would fain defend them in close groups he saw them stand,\nSoldiers on foot, and slingers, and they who the dart could throw, 65\n\nHe saw as he came towards them, in many a goodly row.\n\nAnd many a squire so valiant, the bravest from out the land,\n\nLong, sharp, and strong were the lances they bare in each strong right hand.\nThere too, so the story telleth, was many a merchant grave,\n\nAnd the javelin and axe were their weapons, so their lady commandment gave^p^\n\nAnd their skins, they were loose for hunger—Then the Marshal of the queen\nMade his way thro 1 their ranks to the castle, and heavy his task I ween.\n\nAnd well was that castle guarded, with towers o’er the chambers high ;\n\nAnd barbican, keep, and oriel in such numbers they met his eye\n\nThat buildings so strong and so many in his lifetime he never saw, 75\n\nAnd on horse or afoot from all sides the knights to his welcome draw.\n\n*Twas a sorry host, for as ashes some were grey, some were pale as clay,\n\n/ (My lord the Count of Wertheim sure had starved on such scanty pay!) j\n\nThro* want foil sore they hungered, nor cheese, nor bread, nor meat\nHad they, and their teeth were idle since naught might they find to eat. 80\nAnd their palate knew naught of the flavour of the wine-cup, or red or white,\nAnd their doublet hung loosely on them, and wasted each limb of might,\n\nAnd their skin like wrinkled leather on each rib hung gaunt and grim,\n\nFor hunger their flesh had wasted and driven from every limb.\n\nThro’ want must they sorely suffer, little grease in their fuel ran— 85\n\n(A hero to this had forced them, the proud King of Brandigan,\n\nThus they paid for Klamidd’s wooing)—The mead might they seldom spill,\nFor small was their store, I think me, the vessel or cup to fill.\n\nDigitized by' ^ooQle\n\nio6\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nIn Triihending oft shall ye hearken the hiss of the frying cake,\n\n90 In such music, methinks, but seldom the folk might their pleasure take !\n\n'(And if for such want I Id mock them, then in truth must I share their shame,\nFor there where I oft dismount me, where men do me ‘ Master' name,\n\nAt home in mine house, with trouble e’en the mice shall their portion steal.\nNor oft for their food be joyful 1 Nor need they the bread conceal,\n\n95 Unhidden, I scarce may find it—Yea, oft doth it happen so,\n\nAnd I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, ofttimes such pleasure and ease may know) /\n\nBut enough of my lamentation, once more ye the tale shall hear\nHow the city was full of sorrow, and for gladness they paid full dear.\n\nHow these heroes, so rich in courage, must in need and in scarceness live,\n100 For so did the manhood bid them, to their need shall ye pity give—\n\nFor their life stood in pledge, might He free it in Whose Hand all power\nshall be I—\n\nYet more of their grief would I tell ye that ye mourn for them bitterly,\n\nWith shame their guest did they welcome, for they deemed him so rich and\ngreat\n\nThat he craved not thro’ need their shelter; he knew naught .of their poor\nestate.\n\n105 On the grass did they spread a carpet, where a linden was walled around,\nAnd trained to a welcome shadow—’Neath its boughs they his arms unbound.\nAnd the vassals they took his harness; but other than theirs his face\nWhen he in the streamlet washed it, and cleansed it from red rust trace;\nNay, the sunlight’s rays were shamfed ’neath the glow of his beauty bright,\nno And a worthy guest they thought him as they gazed on the gallant knight\nThen a mantle rich they brought him e’en like to the robe he bare,\n\nAnd new was the smell of the sable wherewith it was garnished fair.\n\nThen they spake, ‘ Wilt thou look upon her, the queen, our lady true ?’\n\nAnd the knight made answer straightway, that thing would he gladly do.\n\n”5 To the palace they came, and the stairway steep and high to the portal led,\nAnd the light of a fair face met him when his footsteps so far were sped. ‘\nOf his eyes should she be the sweetness—There shone from that lady\nbright\n\nA radiant glow and dazzling, ere she welcomed the stranger knight\n\nDigitized by vj ■oogle\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nNow Kiot of Katelangen and Manfilot, Dukes the twain,\n\nLed hither their brother’s daughter who as queen o’er this land did reign, 120\n(For the love of God their harness, shield, and sword, had they put away\nThese princes true and stalwart, fair of face tho’ their hair was grey.)\n\nMidway adown the staircase all courteous the maid they led,\n\nAnd she kissed the gallant hero, and the lips of the twain were red;\n\nAnd she gave him her hand, and she led him, Sir Parzival, to the hall, 125\nAnd they sat them adown together in the midst of the courtiers all.\n\nAnd feeble and faint the maidens, and the knights who stood there around,\n\nAnd vassal alike and hostess, small joy in their life they found.\n\nYet Kondwiramur, her beauty did high o’er all others stand, I\n\nWere it Enid, or fair Jeschutl or Kunnewaarl of far Lalande, 130\n\nWhoe’er men had deemed the fairest when they women’s beauty weighed,\n\nTheir fame to the earth was smitten by the glance of this royal maid.\n\nYea, even the twain I soldi, tho’ men praise them evermore,\n\nThey must yield the crown of beauty to the lady Kondwiramur.\n\n(And her name in our tongue betokens her shapely form and fair) 135\n\nAnd well had they done, the mothers, who had borne such a goodly pair\nAs these twain who sat here together, naught did they who stood around\nBut gaze on the one and the other—Many friends had our hero found.\n\nAnd the thoughts of the knight will 1 tell ye, ‘ There Liassl, Liassl here y —\n\nGod will free me from care since 1 see here Liassl that maiden dear 140\n\nThe child of a gallant father 1 ’—Yet her fairness was naught 1 wot,\n\n’Gainst her beauty who sat beside him, in whom God no wish forgot.\n\n(The maiden was queen of the country) Yea, e’en as by morning dew\nRefreshed, the rose from its calyx forth buddeth in beauty new,\n\nAnd is white and red together—And grief to her guest it wrought, 145\n\nTo whose courtesy naught was lacking since Gumemanz’ side he sought,\n\nAnd his words had from folly freed him, and had bidden him questions .\nspare\n\nSave only where they were needfuiyOPhe sat by that lady fair,\n\nAnd never a word his lips spake, tho’ he sat close the maid beside—\n\nYet to those who know more of woman such silence doth oft betide. * 5 °\n\nThen the queen to herself said softly, ‘This man disdaineth me, .\n\nHe deemeth my fairness faded. Nay, perchance it yet may be\n\nDigitized by' L.oogle\n\nio8\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThat in this thing he doeth wisely, his hostess in sooth am I,\n\nAnd he is my guest, the first speech should be mine assuredly!\n\n155 Gently he looks upon me tho’ never a word we speak,\n\nAnd courteous hath been his bearing, ’twere well I the silence break ;\n\nToo long have I yet delayed me since here side by side we sit}/\n\nTo her guest did she turn, the maiden, and she spake as it seemed her fit:\n\n‘ Sir Knight, it were well as hostess that the first words came from me,\nSince I wot well my kiss as hostess a greeting hath won from thee,\n\nAnd thou offeredst me thy service, so my maiden hath borne me word,\n\nOur guests scarce are wont to do so, tho’ the tidings I fain had heard.\n\nNow tell me, my guest, I prithee, since the tale I am fain to know,\n\nFrom whence art thou come to my kingdom, and whither thou yet wouldst\ngo?’\n\n165 * Lady, at early morning I rode from my host away,\n\nA brave knight is he and faithful, yet he sorroweth sore to-day,\n\nAnd Prince Gumemanz do men call him, in Graharz he holds command,\nFrom thence 1 to-day have ridden, thence came I unto this land 1\n\nThen the noble maiden answered, ‘ Sir Knight, had another told\n170 This tale, methinks that scarcely for truth I the words might hold,\n\nThat thou in one day hadst ridden a journey that scarce in twain\nMy swiftest squire could compass, tho’ his charger he spurred amain !\n\nThy host was my mother’s brother; his daughter’s youthful glow,\n\nIt hath paled before the sorrow which she, e’en as I, must know.\n\n175 For many sad days and mournful, with sad eyes we Ve wept our fill\nI, and the maid Lia 6 sd—Wouldst thou show to thy host goodwill ?\n\nThen thou shalt with us, man and woman, this night-tide our sorrow share,\nThou shalt serve him thereby; and I ’ll tell thee the want we perforce must\nbear.’\n\nThen out spake her uncle Kiot, * Lady, I send to thee\n180 Twelve loaves of bread, and of shoulders and hams do I give thee three.\nAnd eight cheeses too are with them, and two casks of wine I trow,\n\nAnd my brother, he too shall aid thee, of such aid hast thou need enow ! ’\nAnd Manfilot spake, * Yea, Lady, I send thee the self-same fare.’\n\nAnd the maiden she sat in gladness, and of thanks she no word would\nspare.\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nThen leave they craved from their lady, and forth would the old men ride 185\nTo their hunting-house that was nigh there—But the cell where they would\nabide,\n\nWas in Alpine wilds so lonely, there unarmed did they dwell afar,\n\nAnd never a foeman vexed them with tumult or strife of war.\n\nAnd the messenger sped full swiftly, and the hunting folk were fed,\n\nNo Burger within the city but was lacking for other bread, 190\n\nAnd many were dead of hunger ere food for their need was found.\n\nThen the queen she bade them share it to the feeble folk around,\n\nWith the cheese, the flesh, and the red wine, as Parzival counsel gave,\n\nScarce a morsel was left, yet they shared it, the queen and her guest so brave.\n\nAnd swiftly the store had vanished, tho’ to many who yet might live, 195\n\nNor were slain by cruel hunger this succour fresh life might give.\n\nThen they bade them a couch make ready for the guest, and ’twas soft his\nbed,\n\n(Had the Burgers been hawks for the hunting methinks they were not e’er-fed\nAs their scanty board bare witness) yea, the folk there, one and all,\n\nBare the marks of bitter hunger, save the gallant Parzival. 200\n\nThen leave he prayed of his hostess, he would laf him down to rest.\n\nDo ye think that for tapers straw-wisps must light so brave a guest ?\n\nNay, better were they I think me; he betook him, the hero fair,\n\nTo a bed so rich and stately a king well might slumber there,\n\nNor of poverty bare it token, and a carpet before it lay. 205\n\nThen he prayed the knights to go hence, nor longer there delay,\n\nAnd noble lads un-shod him, and straightway he fell asleep,\n\nTill the cry of heart-sorrow woke him, and tears that bright eyes should weep.\n\nThis chanced e’en as I will tell ye5 no woman’s law she brake,\n\nFor pure was she aye, the maiden of whom this venture spake. 210\n\nLong stress of war constrained her, and the death of her champion true,\n\nSo heavy her heart with sorrow that sleep from her eyelids flew,\n\nSo she went, this royal lady, (but never such love to claim\nAs urgeth a gentle maiden to crave of a wife the name)\n\nBut she sought help and friendly counsel, tho* clad in a warlike gear, 215\n\nA silken shift, (strife she wakeneth who doth thus to a man draw near.)\n\nDigitized by vjCJUVIC\n\nno\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd the maiden she wrapped around her a mantle of samite long,\n\nAnd she went as her steps were guided by sorrow and bitter wrong.\n\nHer maidens and waiting women who lay there around her bed\n230 She left them slumbering softly, and with noiseless footsteps sped\n\nTo a chamber, there, e’en as she bade them, Parzival all lonely lay, «\n\nAnd around his couch the tapers burnt bright as the light of day.\n\nTo his bed she turned her footsteps, and she knelt low his couch before,\n\nBut no thought of love unlawful the heart of either bore.\n\n\"5 Of joy bereft was the maiden, his help she was fain to claim,\n\nIf awhile they lay there together it brought unto neither shame.\n\nSo bitter the maiden’s sorrow that there fell full many a tear\nOn Parzival, and Her weeping thro’ his slumbers the knight might hear,\n\nAnd waking, he looked upon her, and sorrow and joy he felt,\n\n230 And he rose up, the youthful hero, as the maiden before him knelt,\n\nAnd he spake to the queen, 4 Say, Lady, wilt thou now make a mock of me ?\nTo God only, and never to mortal methinks shouldst thou bow the knee.\n\nBut rise thou and sit beside me, or grant me I pray this grace,\n\nLay thyself down where I was lying, I will seek me some other place ! *\n\n2 35 But she spake, 4 Thyself wilt thou honour, and show honour alike to me,\n\nAnd by never a touch wilt Shame me, I will e’en lay me down by thee.*\n\nThen the knight he spake by his knighthood he would e’en do as he should\nsay,\n\nSo down on the bed beside him in peace the maiden lay.\n\nTho’ well sped were the hours of the night-time no cock did they hear to\ncrow,\n\n240 Empty and bare the perches, for the famine had left them so.\n\nThen the maiden, grieving sorely, prayed him courteous her plaint to\nhear,\n\n4 Twill rob thee of sleep an I tell thee, and work to thee ill I fear.\n\nMy foeman the King Klamidl, and Kingron his seneschal.\n\nMy castles and lands have wasted, yea, all but this citadel\n345 My father, King Tampentare, by his death me, poor orphan, left\nIn peril and need so deadly, of all hope am I well-nigh reft\nKinsmen and princes many, and vassals, both rich and poor,\n\nYea, a mighty army serVfed me, but they serve me now no more.\n\nDigitized by VjiOO^lC\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nin\n\nOne half, nay, for more I think me, in defence of my land are slain,\n\n* Alas ! whence shall I, poor maiden, or gladness or succour gain ? 2 5 °\n\nIn such sore strait do I find me, 1 am ready myself to kill\nEre my maidenhood and this body I yield to Klamid^s will.\n\nHis wife he is foin to make me, yet his was the hand that slew\nMy Knight Schenteflur, the hero, whose heart was both brave and true,\n\nAnd the flower was he of all manhood, falsehood he ne’er might know, s 55\nWho was brother unto Liassd, and she too shall share my woe.’\n\nBut e’en as she named Liassd then sorrow awoke anew\n\nIn his heart who would foin do service, and his spirit, so high and true,\n\nSank, as sinketh a hill to the valley, at the thought of that maiden dear:\n\nYet he spake to the queen, 4 Say, Lady, how best may I serve thee here ?* 260\n\n4 Sir Knight an thou cOuldst but rid me of Kingron the seneschal;\n\nIn knightly joust of my warriors full many before him fell.\n\nWith the morning again he cometh, and he thinketh that free from harm\nHis lord soon shall lie, my husband, in the clasp of my circling arm.\n\nMy Burg hast thou seen, and thou knowest how lofty its towers and high, ^5\nYet down to the moat below them will I fling myself joyfully,\n\nEre of maidenhood King' Klamidl shall rob me against my will,\n\nIf no better may be, then by dying, his boasting I yet may still! ’\n\nThen he quoth, 4 Lady, French or Breton, of what country soe’er he be,\n\nFrom Kingron my hand shall shield thee, with what power may be given to 270\nme.’\n\nThe night was spent, with the dawning the queen she arose again,\n\nLowly she bent before him, nor from thanks would her lips restrain.\n\nThen she passed from the chamber softly, and no man might be aware,\n\nTho’ wise were he else, of her errand, save only the knight so fair.\n\nNor Parzival longer slumbered, for the sun was swift to rise, 375\n\nAnd it pierced thro’ the clouds of morning, and smote on his wakened eyes ;\nAnd he heard the sweet bells chiming, as the folk church and minster\nsought,\n\nFor Klamidl their joy had banished, and their land in sore peril brought\n\nThen up rose the young knight also ; the chaplain was in his place\n\nAnd he sang to God and bis lady; and the guest saw the maiden’s face, a8o\n\nDigitized by vjOOQIC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n/ And he gazed till the Mass was ended, and the benediction o’er.\n\nThen be bade them to bring his harness, and soon was he armed once more,\n\nA good knight and strong they deemed him, in gallant armour fair.\n\nThen on came Klamid£’s army with banners borne high in air.\n\n9B5 And Kingron, he came full swiftly, he sped far before the force,\n\nAnd, so hath the story told me, of Iserterre’s land his horse.\n\nAnd there waited before the portal the son of King Gamuret,\n\nAnd the prayers and the hopes of the townsfolk on the youthful knight were\nset\n\nNor with sword he ere this had striven—From afar did he aim his stroke,\n\n29° And so swift his joust, in the meeting the gear of both chargers broke,\n\nAnd their girths were burst asunder, and each steed to its knees was brought.\nAnd the heroes who yet bestrode them of their swords must they needs take\nthought;\n\nIn their scabbards did they find them—And already did Kingron bear\nWounds in arm and breast, and I wot me that loss was his portion there.\n\n995 For this joust brought him loss of the glory that methinks had been his\nalway\n\nTill he met with this knight, and their meeting, of his pride was the dying day.\nAnd valiant did men account him, six knights had he prostrate laid\nWho rode in one field against him, yet here was he well repaid\nBy Parzival’s right hand valiant, and Kingron the seneschal\n3°° Thought strange was indeed his peril, for stones surely on him fell\nCast forth from a mighty engine—Other arms wrought his overthrow,\n\nFor a sword clave clean thro’ his helmet, and Parzival laid him low,\n\nAnd he knelt with one knee upon him, and he bade him forthwith to give\nWhat he ne’er to a foe had given, his pledge, an he fain would live.\n\n305 But he thought not to be his captor who had vanquished him here in field,\n\nBut he bade him ride hence to Graharz and his pledge to its lord to yield.\n\n‘ Nay, Sir Knight, thou hadst better slay me, ’twas I who slew his son,\n\n’Twas my hand of life that robbed him, Schenteflur—Thou from God hast\nwon\n\nGreat honour, yea, men shall praise thee for the strength that thou here hast\nshown,\n\n310 Of a sooth art thou here the victor, and Good Fortune shall be thine own.*\n\nDigitized by Cj oogle\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\n”3\n\nQuoth Parzival , 1 Yet another is the choice I will give to thee,\n\nYield thou to the queen whom thy master in his wrath wronged so grievously !’\n\n‘ Nay I Then were I lost of a surety, for 1 wot with their sword-blades keen\nMy body they'Id hew in pieces, small as dust in the sun is seen !\n\nSuch sorrow of heart, I think me, and grief thro’ my hand they win, 3*5\n\nFull many a gallant hero who dwelleth those walls within.’\n\n‘ Then hence from this plain shalt thou journey to the kingdom of Brittany,\n\nAnd bear to a gentle maiden thy pledge and thy fealty.\n\nFor she for my sake hath suffered a sorrow she ne’er had borne,\n\nHad not Kay been of knightly customs, and of courtesy fair forsworn. 3 *>\n\nSay to her how with me it fareth, that I come not in joy again\n\nTill my spear, thro 1 his shield sharp-piercing, hath wiped out her honour’s stain.\n\nTo King Arthur and to his lady, and the knights of the Table Round\nBear my greeting, and say in their presence shall I never again be found\nTill the day I from shame have freed me ; from the shame which / too must 325\nshare\n\nWith the maiden who smiled upon me, and great grief for that greeting bare.\n\nSay to her I am aye her servant, to serve her with service fain ! ’\n\nSo Kingron must swear unto him ere they parted, those heroes twain.\n\nThus he came afoot to the city, for thither had fled his steed,\n\nThe Burgers’ help in battle, from their anguish the folk he freed. 330\n\nBut the outer host was troubled that Kingron, their chosen knight,\n\nIn this wise had been dishonoured, and broken his dauntless might\nThen they led Parzival in triumph to their queen so fair and young,\n\nAnd the maiden was fain to greet him, and her white arms around him clung,\nAnd in close embrace she held him as she spake,*The wide earth doth hold 333\nNo man I will have for my husband save him whom these arms enfold 1 ’\n\nAnd as here they disarmed the hero her part would the maiden bear\nWith ready hand and skilful, nor her service she thought to spare.\n\nBat tho’ heavy had been his labour, yet scanty, I ween, the board.\n\nAnd the Burgers they came before him, and they sware him with one accord 34o\nThey would have him for lord and master; and the queen in her turn she\nspake,\n\nAnd she said that this knight so valiant fp* hptlove aiwl her lord she Id take\nVOL. I. H\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nWho had won him a fame so mighty o’er Kingron the seneschal—\n\nBut now from the castle bulwarks two sails might be seen by all,\n\n345 A strong wind to the haven brought them, and their lading must needs make\nglad\n\nThe folk, they bare naught but victuals,—God’s guidance they surely had!\n\nThen they rushed adown from the ramparts, and swift to the ships they fled,\nThe hungry crowd, for the booty, as leaves by the wind are sped.\n\n^ With flesh they were not o’erweighted, so wasted and thin were they,\n\n3 SO Nor they strutted with well-filled belly, but bending they went their way.\n\nThe queen’s marshal he sware the shipmen, by the doom of the hempen cord,\nSafe conduct for life and lading, none should touch that which lay aboard.\nThen he bade them to lead these merchants straightway into the town,\n\nAnd Parzival for their lading the double he paid them down,\n\n355 And gladly the merchants took it, for princely they deemed such pay;\n\nAnd the Burgers these welcome viands to their fires did they bear straight¬\nway.\n\nNow fain would 1 there take service, no man of them all drank beer,\n\nWine and food had they there in plenty—Then he did as you now shall hear,\n\n- Parzival, the gallant hero, for first in portions small,\n\n360 With his own right hand he shared out the viands among them all,\n\nYea, even unto the nobles; so long had they lacked for bread,\n\nHe feared it had wrought them evil if perchance they were over-fed.\n\nBut to each one he gave his portion, and his counsel they deemed it right,\nAnd more should they win ere nightfall from the hand of this gallant knight\n\n3^5 To their marriage couch they bade them, ’twas the will both of king and\nqueen—\n\nYet throughout the night so courteous he bare him, in truth 1 ween,\n\nHe little had pleased those ladies who now, in these latter days,\n\nIn passion’s beat forget all that should win for a woman praise ;\n\nTho’ modest they seem to strangers, yet their heart gives their mien the lie,\n370 And their tenderness worketh sorrow to their friend, tho’ in secrecy.\n\nBut the steadfast knight and faithful guards himself at every hour,\n\nAnd well knoweth to spare a woman an she chanceth within his power.\n\nFor he thinketh, and thinketh truly, * For many a lonely year\nFor her favours 1 served this lady; now, behold, the day is here\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\n11 S\n\nWhen her will is to reward me, and here we twain do lie— 375\n\nHad I touched with bare hand her vesture I were blest to eternity !\n\nAn I vantage take of her slumbers to myself untrue I seem,\n\nMethinks we were both dishonoured did I waken her from her dream,\n\nFor a woman’s sleep is holy, and all men shall own its sway.’\n\nThus the Waleis, who ne’er had feared him, lay still till the dawn of day. 3 &>\n\nThus he whom men called the Red Knight, a maiden he left the queen,\n\nYet surely she deemed in the morning his wife she o’er night had been,\n\nAnd for love of her lord her tresses she bound with the morning light\nAs matrons are wont to bind them. And he won him, the gallant knight,\n\nCastles and lands around them from the hand of his maiden bride, 385\n\nBut her heart was ere this his guerdon, and in peace did the twain abide.\n\nThus glad in their love they held them two days till the third night fell,\n\nAnd often he thought might he take her to himself it would please him well.\nThen he thought of his mother’s counsel, and how Gurnemanz spake of yore,\n\nThat man and wife should as one be, and the doubt vexed his soul no more, 390\nAnd his wife did he take unto him—Love’s custom ever old,\n\nYet ever new to lovers, to these twain brought joy untold.\n\n’Twas well, not evil, with them—Now hear how the king, their foe,\n\nAs he rode in his might to battle, must tidings of evil know.\n\n’Twas a squire who fain had told them, all crimson his spurs with blood ; 39s\n\n‘ Before Pelrapar on the meadow have they foughten those heroes good,\n\n’Twas a bitter strife and knightly; thy seneschal fell that day,\n\nKingron, who led thine army, to King Arthur must take his way.\n\nAs he in departing bade them lies the army upon the plain.\n\nPelrapar shalt thou find well guarded ’gainst thyself and thine armies twain, 400\nThere within is a gallant hero, and naught doth he crave but strife;\n\nIn the camp of thy hired soldiers i? many a'rumour rife, f tt „ t *\n\nThey say from the good Round Table cometh Ither of Cumberland\nTo the help of the queen, and knightly and valiant methinks his hand !\n\n’Twas his arms that rode forth for jousting, and no man his deeds shall blame, 405\nIn such wise hath he borne his armour as winneth him meed of fame.’\n\nQuoth the king to the squire, ( My lady, the queen, she desireth me,\n\nAnd she and her land so goodly I trow shall m|[pop|tim| i be.\n\nIi6\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd Kingron the seneschal told me, and surely the truth he spake,\n\n4\n\nA piaiden who smiled upon me for my sake was smitten sore—\n\nOf all that in life e’er grieved me naught ever hath grieved me more 1\nAnd that maid shalt thou tell of my sorrow; and thy pledge to her hand\nshalt yield,\n\nAnd do even as she shall bid thee—Or die here on this foughten field 1 ’\n\n1 So, if here I must choose betwixt them, not long shall my choice delay/ 5 8 5\nSpake the King of Brandigan swiftly, ‘ From hence will I ride straightway !’\n\nBut his oath did he swear ere he parted whom pride had in peril brought.\n\nThen Parzival, the hero, for his wearied charger sought,\n\nAnd his foot touched nor horse nor stirrup as he light to the saddle sprung,\nAnd his steed the hewn shields’ splinters around him in circles flung. 59 °\n\nAnd the Burgers I ween were joyful—but their foemen were sad and sore,\n\nFor flesh and bone were wearied, and sorrow of heart they bore.\n\nAnd they brought King Klamidl wounded to those who might give him aid,\nAnd the dead on the bier they bare them, and to rest in the grave they laid.\nFrom many a guest unwelcome the land at last was freed, 595\n\nAnd the gallant King Klamid£ to Ldver he rode with speed.\n\nNow it fell at this time King Arthur and the knights of the Table Round,\n\nAnd many another hero, at Dianasdron were found.\n\nDigitized by VjOOQ 1C\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd in sooth no lie I tell ye when I say that this plain so good\n600 Bare of tent-poles a greater number than the trees in Spessart’s wood.\n\nFor ’twas ever the wont of King Arthur the high feast of Pentecost\nTo keep with his knights and vassals, and of maidens a goodly host\nThere were many a noble banner, and many a warlike shield\nWith coat of arms emblazoned, and fair tents stood adown the field ;\n\n605 ’T would be thought of the world a marvel, who should make all the travelling\ngear\n\nEor such wondrous host of ladies as those that were gathered here 1\nJh nd I think me that never a maiden but had counted it to her shame\nIf no knight mid the knights around her she might as her lover claim !\nCame I myself to such gathering, an such youthful knights were there,\n\n610 I were loth if my wife beside me thro , such tumult were fain to fare—\n\n(Nay, when folk thus come together far liefer were I away)\n\nMay be one might speak unto her, and some such words would say—\n\n‘ With love of her was he smitten, and ne’er might he healing know\nSave that she herself should heal him. Yea, an but her will were so,\n\n615 Her knight would he be for ever, to serve her his whole life long* ^\n\nI were swift, with my wife beside me, to flee from such foolish throng! f\n\nYet enough of myself have I spoken—Now hear how King Arthur’s tent\nMight be known apart from the others; before it on gladness bent\nHe feasted, the king, with his vassals whose hearts never falsehood knew,\n6ao And with many a stately maiden, whose thoughts aye to jousting flew,\n\nAs if with darts they sported, and their friend ’gainst the foe would aim,\nAnd if ill befell their hero with sweet words to his aid they came.\n\nThen the youthful King Klamidl in the ring would he bridle draw ;\n\nHis steel-clad limbs and charger the wife of King Arthur saw,\n\n6*5 His helmet and good shield cloven her maidens they saw right well—\n\nSo he came to the court, (who had sent him small need have I here to tell.)\nSo sprang he adown from his chaiger, and they thronged him on either\nhand\n\nEre he came where she sat whom he sought for, Kunnewaar£ of fair Lalande.\n\nAnd he spake, ‘Art thou she, O Lady, to whom I owe service fair?\n\n630 (Yet need doth in part constrain me) from the Red Knight I greeting bear.\n\nDigitized by vjiOCK^lC\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nHe wiUeth to take upon him the shame that thy lot hath been ;\n\nHe prays that King Arthur mourn it—Thou wast smitten for him 1 ween.\n\nI Here, Lady, my pledge I* bring thee, so my victor hath bidden me,\n\nElse my body to death were forfeit—I will do here as pleaseth thee ! ’\n\nThen the maiden Kunnewaar£ by his hand led the gallant knight 635\n\nWhere Queen Guinevere was seated, she ate with her maidens bright;\n\nAnd Kay uprose from the table as the tidings he needs must hear,\n\nThey brought gladness to Kunnewaard, but to Kay had they wrought but\nfear.\n\nAnd he quoth, * What he speaketh, Lady, who thus unto thee hath sped\nHe speaketh perforce, yet I think me he greatly hath been misled! 640\n\nI thought but to teach thee better, yet for this cause thou hatest me!\n\nNow bid thou this knight disarm him, for his standing o’er-long shall be.’\n\nThen she bade him put off his helmet and visor, the maiden true,\n\nAnd e’en as the bands were loosened Klamidl the king they knew,\n\nAnd Kingron he looked upon him, and he saw his lord again, 645\n\nAnd he wrung his hands in his anguish till as dry twigs they cracked amain.\n\nThen the seneschal of Klamidd, from the table he sprung straightway,\n\nAnd he asked of his lord the tidings; and joyless was he that day,\n\nFor he spake, ‘ I am bom to sorrow; I have lost such a gallant host,\n\nNo man that was born of woman, I think me shall more have lost. 650\n\nAnd the load of such bitter sorrow lieth heavy upon my breast,\n\nAnd joy is to me a stranger, and gladness a fleeting guest!\n\nAnd grey am I grown for the anguish she hath wrought me, Kondwiramur,— *\nYea, the sorrow of Pontius Pilate, and false Judas who evermore\nMust grieve for his faithless dealings, who did Christ unto death betray, 655\nWhat of punishment God layeth on them that woe would I bear alway—\n\nIf so be that the Lady of Brobarz were my wife of goodwill and free,\n\nAnd mine arms held her fast, I had recked not what hereafter should\nchance to me.\n\nBut, alas ! for her love is withholden from the ruler of Iserterre,\n\nAnd my land and my folk henceforward for her sake shall sorrow bear. 660\nMine uncle’s son, Mabonagrein, for her love long hath suffered pain j\nAnd by knightly hand constraint in thy court I, O king, draw rein!\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd well dost thou know in my kingdom much harm have I done to thee,\nForget that, true knight and faithful, from thy hate do thou set me free\n6*5 Since here I abide, a captive—And this maiden mf life shall shield,\n\nSince I stand in her sight, her servant, and my pledge to her hand would\nyield ! 7\n\nThen of knightly heart King Arthur forgave him as he would pray,\n\nAnd with faithful words, and kindly, showed favour to him that day.\n\nFar and wide did they tell the tidings how the King of Brandigan\n670 Rode hither, and man and maiden in thronging crowds they ran.\n\nThen the king he would crave a comrade, and he spake out with joyless mien,\n‘ Commend me unto Sir Gawain, if thou deemest me worth, O Queen !\n\nWell I know that he would desire it, and if he thy word obey,\n\nThen he honoureth thee, and the Red Knight shall win praise at his hand\nto-day . 1\n\n*75 Then King Arthur he bade his nephew deal well with the captive king,\n\n(Tho* I wot well, without his bidding, Sir Gawain had done this thing.)\n\nAnd the conquered knight, in whose dealings no falsehood bad part or share.\nFrom the vassals and gallant heroes won a welcome both fit and fair.\n\nThen Kingron he spake in sorrow, ‘Alas ! that I needs must see\n680 The day when in Breton dwellings my king shall a captive be!\n\nFor richer wert thou than Arthur, and of vassals a greater host\nHath served thee, nor strength was lacking, and of youth canst thou make\nthy boast.\n\nShall men count it to Arthur's honour that Kay in his wrath did smite\nA princess whose heart hath shown her the wisdom to choose aright,\n\n685 And smile upon one whom henceforward all men may with truth proclaim\nElect to the highest honour and crown of true knightly fame ?\n\nThe tree of their fame these Bretons may deem to have waxen high ;\n\nDead lay Cumberland’s king, but I wot well he by no deed of theirs must die!\nNor the fame shall be theirs that, my master, thou didst yield to that self¬\nsame knight,\n\n690 Or that I myself have been vanquished in fair and open fight;\n\nAnd the sparks sprang bright from our helmets, and our swords clave the\nwhistling air\n\nAs for life and death we battled, and men looked on our combat fair.’\n\nDigitized by vjOO^IC\n\nKONDWIRAMUR\n\nThen all at the good Round Table, both rich and poor alike,\n\nWith one voice spake that Kay did evil when a maiden he thought to strike.\n\n’ But now will we leave their story, and fare back unto Pelrapar *95\n\nWhere Parzival reigned as monarch ; the waste lands were builded fair,\n\nAnd joy was their lot and singing, (and red gold and jewels bright\nKing Tampentare left in the city where awhile he had reigned in might)\n\nThen rich gifts he gave till men loved him for his knightly hand and free ;\n\nNew shields and costly banners the pride of his land should be, 70°\n\nAnd many a joust and Tourney did he and his heroes ride.\n\nAnd e’en on the distant borders in gallant deeds he vied,\n\nThat hero young and dauntless, and no foeman might e’er deny\nThat on battle-field or in Tourney his hand won the victory.\n\nAnd now of the queen would I tell ye—What lot might ye hold so fair 705\nAs hers, that gentle lady ? In earth’s joys had she fullest share.\n\nHer love it might bud and blossom, nor weakness nor wavering show,\n\n/For the worth of her lord and husband her heart scarce might fail to know.\n\nAnd each found their life in the other, and each was the other’s love.\n\nIf, as saith the tale, they were parted, what grief must each true heart move! 710\nAnd I mourn for that gentle lady, her body, her folk, her land,\n\n(So he won of her love the guerdon) had he freed with his strong right hand.\n\nThus courteous he spake one morning (and theknights stood their lord beside),\n\n1 Lady, an it so please thee, give me leave that I hence may ride\n\nAnd see how my mother fareth, if weal be her lot, or woe, 7*5\n\nFor naught of all that befalls her methinks I for long may know.\n\nFor a short space would I go thither ; and if ventures my skill approve\nTherewith would I do thee service, and be worthy my lady’s love.’\n\nThus hg spake, and the story telleth she thought not to say him ( Nay,’\n\nFor she deemed it well; from his vassals all lonely he took his way. 7 *>\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nDigitized by", "project_translation": false, "license": null, "methodology_url": null } }