{
  "meta": {
    "schema_version": "1.1",
    "endpoint": "/api/sources/grail-romances/parzival/05-book-v-anfortas.json"
  },
  "work": {
    "slug": "parzival",
    "name": "Parzival"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "grail-romances",
      "name": "Holy Grail Romances",
      "url": "/sources/grail-romances/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 6,
    "slug": "05-book-v-anfortas",
    "title": "Book V: Anfortas",
    "of": 17,
    "words": 12247,
    "text": "## Book V: Anfortas\n\n\nANFORTAS\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook v. tells of the wonderful adventure of the Grail Castle; how\nParzival met with the Fisher King, and became his guest; and of the great\nfeast in the hall of Monsalv&sch. How Parzival saw the bleeding spear,\nand all the marvels of the Grail, and how he asked no question. How he\nin the morning found the palace deserted, and was mocked by the squire,\nas he rode away. Of Parzival’s meeting with Sigun£, and how she\nreproached him for his silence. Of Orilus and Jeschut^; of the fight\nbetween the heroes ; and of Parzival’s oath. How Orilus and his wife were\nmade/riends again, and of their welcome at the court of King Arthur.\n\nDigitized by Google\n\n. ANFORTAS\n\nOW he who would hear what befell him who thus for ventures\nsought,\n\nShall hearken many a marvel ere the tale to an end be wrought\nLet the son of Gamuret ride forth, and all ye good folk and\ntrue\n\nWish him well, for bitter sorrow this hero hereafter knew,\n\nTbo* honour and joy should crown him—And sorely his heart did grieve 5\nThat the wife he loved so dearly he now for a space must leave.\n\nFor the mouth never read of woman, and never hath tale been told\nOf a fairer wife and truer, and his heart did she captive hold,\n\nAnd his spirit so high was troubled by thoughts of his wife and queen—\n\nHad courage not been his birthright he had lost it ere this, I ween ! 10\n\nO’er rock and marshy moorland, with loosened reins the steed\nDashed free, the ridpr thought not to guide or check its speed.\n\nOf a truth the venture telleth, so far did he ride that day\nE’en a bird had been outwearied, and its flight were fain to stay.\n\nAn the tale hath not betrayed me, no further the knight did fare 15\n\nWhen Ither he slew, or from Graharz rode swift unto Pelrapar.\n\nNow hear ye what chanced unto him ; he came at the close of day\nTo a water fair, and upon it many boats at anchor lay,\n\nArid the fishers were lords of the water; to the shore did they lie so near\nThat e’en as they saw him riding his question they well might hear. 90\n\nAnd one he saw in a vessel all clad in such royal pride\nScarce richer had been his vesture were he lord of the world so wide;\n\nVOL. I. Digitized by VjOOglC |\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nOf peacock’s plumes his head-gear—Then the knight to the Fisher spake\nAnd he prayed him for knighthood’s bidding, and he prayed him for God’s\ndear sake,\n\nas To help him unto a shelter where he might thro’ the night hours rest\nAnd the Fisher sad he answered in this wise the stranger guest;\n\nAnd he quoth, ‘ Nay, Sir Knight, I know not for full thirty miles around,\n\nBy land alike or water, where dwelling may yet be found\n\nSave one house, 1 would bid thee seek it, for it lieth in sooth anear,\n\n30 Thro’ the livelong day wert thou riding none other thou findest here.\n\nRide there to the high clifPs ending, then turn thee to thy right hand\nUntil to the moat thou comest, and thy charger perforce must stand;\n\nThen bid thou the castle warder to let the drawbridge fall\nAnd open to thee the portals, then ride thou unto the hall’\n\n35 Then he did as the Fisher bade him, and leave would he courteous pray,\nBut he quoth , 4 I myself will thine host be, an thou fail not to find the way,\nBe thy thanks then as is our tendance—As thou ridest around the hill\nHave a care lest the wood mislead thee, such mischance would but please\nme ilL’\n\nThen Parzival turned his bridle, and gaily he took his way,\n\n40 Nor missed he the path till before him the moat of the castle lay;\n\nAnd the drawbridge was raised, and the fortress it lacked not for strength\nI trow,\n\nAs a turner with skill had wrought them stood the turrets in goodly row.\n\nBut with wings, or on winds of heaven uplifted, might ye have won\nTo that Burg, an a foeman stormed it little harm he methinks had done.\n\n45 And so strong were the towers and the palace that its folk they had held the\nhall\n\nAnd mocked at the foe, if all armies thirty years long beset the wall\n\n/ Then a jquir c looked forth from the castle, of the knight was he well aware.\nAnd he asked whence he came? and wherefore he thought to their Burg to fare?\nAnd Parzival spake, * ’Tis the Fisher who hath bidden me ride to thee,\n\n50 With all courtesy have I thanked him for the shelter he proffered free,\n\n’Tis his will that the bridge be lowered, and I ride here the Burg within.’\n\n‘ Sir Knight thou shalt here be welcome, and thy way to the Burg shalt win\n\nDigitized by VjOOv 1C\n\nANFORTAS\n\n*3*\n\nSince the Fisher so spake—And honour would we shew unto thee his guest! *\nThen the squire he let fall the drawbridge, for so was their lord’s behest\n\nSo the hero came to the fortress, to a courtyard so broad and wide, 55\n\nBy knightly sports untrodden—Nor oft would they Tourneys ride,\n\n(By short green turf was it covered) and but seldom with banners bright\nAs on Abenberg’s field did they ride there, as fitting for gallant knight\n’Twas l^ng since they might disport them in such pastimes of warlike skill,\n\nFor sorrow lay heavy on them, and mirth it beseemed them ill 6c\n\nBut little the guest should rue that, for knights both old and young,\n\nThey welcomed him with all honour, and swift to his bridle sprung.\n\nAnd pages of noble breeding laid their hands on his bridle rein,\n\nAnd others would hold his stirrup as the knight to dismount was fain.\n\nAnd the knights they prayed him enter, and they led him where he might rest, 65\nAnd with ready hands and skilful of his armour they freed the guest,\n\nAnd they looked on the beardless hero, and they saw his face so fair,\n\nAnd they spake, of a truth Good Fortune and blessing should be his share.\n\nf^Then he bade them to bring him water, and the rust-stains he washed away\nFrom face and hands, and they saw him as the light of a second day, 70\nSo he sat in all eyes lovely—Then a mantle rich they brought\nOf silk of Araby fashioned, and flaw therein was there naught;\n\nAnd he laid it around his shoulder, that hero so fair and bright,\n\nBut the clasp did he leave unfastened, and with one voice they praised the\nknight\n\n‘ Repanse de Schoie, our lady and queen, did this mantle bear,’ 75\n\nQuoth the chamberlain, 1 She hath lent it while fit robes they for thee\nprepare.\n\nAnd I feared not this boon to ask her since it seemeth sure to me\nThat a gallant man and faithful, Sir Knight, thou shalt prove to be! 9\n1 God reward thee who lookest on me with such true and trusting heart,\n\nMe thinks, an thou seest rightly, Good Fortune shall be my part, 80\n\nYet I wot well such gifts come only from the oower of God on high.’\n\nThen gladly they pledged the hero, and in honour and loyalty\n\nThey who sorrowed with him were joyful; far more had they there, I ween,\n\nThan at Pelrapar, when his right hand their fr^m grief had been !\n\n1 3 2\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n85 Then sadly he thought, as his harness the squires on one side would bear,\nThat in knightly joust and Tourney he here might find little share.\n\nThen one to the host would call him, and fast came his words and free,\n\nAnd boldly he spake to the stranger, yea, e’en as in wrath might be.\n\nWith his life had he nigh paid forfeit to*Parzival’s youthful pride,\n\n90 For he laid his hand to bis sword-hilt—When he found it not by his side\nThen he clenched his fist so tightly that the clasp rung the blood-drops red\nFrom beneath his nails, and crimson to the sleeve of his robe they spread.\n\n‘ Nay, nay,’ quoth the knights, 4 be not wrathful, for fain would he make us\nsmile,\n\nHe hath licence to jest, and with jesting our sadness would he beguile.\n\n95 Show thy courtesy here towards him, nor be wroth for a foolish word,\n\nThat the Fisher hath come to the castle, naught else shalt thou here have\nheard.\n\nNow do thou to our lord betake thee, here art thou an honoured guest,\n\nAnd the load of thy heavy anger be banished from off thy breast’\n\nTo the palace hall they gat them, where a hundred crowns hung low\n100 With many a toper laden ; round the walls shone the topers’ glow.\n\nAnd beneath stood a hundred couches, with a hundred cushions fair,\n\nAnd each of these goodly couches four knights should between them share.\nAnd betwixt each twain of the couches an open space was found,\n\nAnd before each there lay a carpet of cunning work fashioned round.\n\n105 Thereto had he wealth in plenty, King Frimutel’s son and heir:\n\nAnd one thing had they not forgotten, nor their gold did they think to\nspare,\n\nFor within the hall were builded three hearths of marble rare,\n\nWith skill and wisdom fashioned, and each hearth stood four-square,\n\nAnd the wood was Lignum aloe, and so great a fire, I ween,\nno Ne’er hath burnt on the hearth at Wildberg—Such things haveaye costly been.\n\nAnd the host had bid them lay him on a costly folding bed\n’Fore the central hearth $ and gladness from before his face had fled,\n\nAnd his life was but a dying—Parzival the hero fair\n\nIn the hall found kindly welcome from him who had sent him there.\n\n115 Then his host bade him stand no longer, but be seated his couch anear,\n\n1 Yea, here by my side, didst thou seat thee yet further from me, I fear\n\nDigitized by v.\n\nANFORfAS\n\nTwere treating thee as a stranger’—In this wise to his gallant guest\nSpake the host thus rich in sorrow, whose heart was by grief opprest\n\nAnd the Ijosphe craved thro’ his ^jcknes^reat fires, and warm robes would\nwear\n\nBoth wide and long, and with sable were they lined and garnished fair. 130\nAnd the poorest skin was costly, and black was its hue and grey;\n\nAnd a cap of the self-same fashioned he wore on his head that day,\n\n’Twas within and without of sable, with bands of Arabian gold\nWrought around, and a flashing ruby in the centre might all behold.\n\nNow many brave knights they sat there, and grief passed their face before, 125\nft For a squire sprang swift thro’ the doorway, and a lance in his hand he bore,\nl(And thus did he wake their weeping) from the point did the blood run fast\n|Adown to the hand of the holder till ’twas lost in his sleeve at last\nAnd then thro’ the lofty palace was weeping and wailing sore,\n\nThe folk of thirty kingdoms could scarce have bemoaned them more. 130\n\nAnd thus to each of the four walls with the lance in his hand he drew,\n\nTill he reached once again the doorway, and passed him the portal thro’.\n\nAnd stilled was the lamentation, and the grief that this folk must know\nWhen the squire bare the lance before them, and thus bade them to think\non woe.\n\n(An here ye be not outwearied I gladly would tell the tale, 135\n\nHow the feast in this Burg was ordered, for in courtesy naught did fail.)\n\nAt the end of the hall a doorway of steel did they open fair,\n\nAnd two noble children entered—Now hearken what guise they bare,\n\nAn a knight for love would serve them, with love they his task might pay,\n\nTwo fair and gracious maidens as e’er man might woo were they. x 4 °\n\nAnd each wore on her hair loose flowing, a chaplet of blossoms bound\nWith silken band, beneath it their tresses sought the ground.\n\nAnd the hand of each maiden carried a candlestick all of gold,\n\nAnd every golden socket did a burning taper hold.\n\nNor would I forget the raiment these gentle maidens ware, z *5\n\nFor one was Tenabroc’s countess, ruddy-brown was her robe so fair,\n\nAnd the self-same garb wore the maiden who beside the countess paced,\n\nAnd with girdles rich and costly were they gi£t’round each slender waist.\n\n*34\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd behind them there came a Duchess and her fellow ; of ivory white\n15° Two stools they bare, and glowing their lips e’en as fire is bright\n\nThen they bowed, the four, and bending, the stools ’fore the host they laid,\nNor was aught to their service lacking, but fitly their part they played.\n\nThen they stood all four together, and their faces were fair to see,\n\nAnd the vesture of each fair maiden was like to the other three.\n\n155 Now see how they followed swiftly, fair maidens twice told four,\n\nAnd this was I ween their office, four tapers tall they bore;\n\nNor the others deemed too heavy the weight of a precious stone,\n\nAnd by day the sun shone thro’ it, and as Jacinth its name is known.\n\n’Twas long and broad, and for lightness had they fashioned it fair and meet\n160 To serve at will for a table where a wealthy host might eat\n\nAnd straight to the host they stepped them, and they bowed their fair\nheads low,\n\nAnd four laid the costly table on the ivory white as snow,\n\nThe stools they had placed aforetime—and courteous they turned aside,\n\nAnd there by their four companions stood the eight in their maiden pride.\n\n165 And green were the robes of these maidens, green as grass in the month\nof May,\n\nOf Samite in Assagog woven, and long and wide were they.\n\nAt the waist were they girt with a girdle, narrow, and long, and fair,\n\nAnd each of these gentle maidens ware a wreath on her shining hair.\n\nNow Iwan, the Count of Nonel, and Jemis, the lord of Reil,\n\n170 To the Grail were their daughters summoned from many a distant mile.\nAnd they came, these two princesses, in raiment wondrous fair,\n\nAnd two keen-edged knives, a marvel, on cloths did those maidens bear.\n\nOf silver white and shining were they wrought with such cunning skill,\n\nAnd so sharp, that methinks their edges e’en steel might they cut at will.\n\n175 And maidens four went before them, for this should their office be\nTo bear lights before the silver ; four children from falsehood free.\n\nSix maidens in all they entered and took thro’ the hall their way,\n\nNow hearken, and I will tell ye the service they did that day.\n\nThey bowed, and the twain who carried the silver they laid it low\nt 8 o On the Jacinth, and courteous turning to the first twelve in order go.\n\nDigitized by vjOOQ LC\n\nANFORTAS\n\nAnd now, have I counted rightly, here shall eighteen maidens stand;\n\nAnd lo 1 see six more come hither in vesture from distant lands, .\n\nHalf their robes were of silk, gold inwoven, half of silk of Nineveh bright,\n\n^Fo r both they and the six before them, parti-coloured their robes of light.\n\nAnd last of those maids a maiden, o’er the others was she the queen, 185\n\nSo fair her face that they thought them ’twas the morning’s dawn, 1 ween!\n\nAnd they saw her clad in raiment of Pfellel of Araby,\n\nAnd she bare aloft on a cushion of verdant Achmardi\njRoot and blossom of Paradise garden, that thing which men call * The Grail ,’\nrThe crown of all earthly wishes, fair fulness that ne’er shall fail! 190\n\nRepanse de Schoie did they call her, in whose hands the Grail might lie,\n\nBy the Grail Itself elected was she to this office high.\n\nAnd they who would here do service, those maids must be pure of heart,\n\nAnd true in life, nor falsehood shall have in their dealings part.\n\nAnd lights both rare and costly before the Grail they bore 195\n\nSue glasses tall, transparent—and wondrous balsam’s store\nBurnt within with a strange sweet perfume; with measured steps they came,\nAnd the queen bowed low with the maidens who bare the balsam’s flame.\n\nThen this maiden free from falsehood, the Grail on the Jacinth laid,\n\nAnd Parzival looked upon her, and thought of the royal maid ^\n\nElect to such high office, whose mantle he needs must wear.\n\nThen the seven courteous turned them to the eighteen maidens fair,\n\nAnd the noblest they placed in the centre, and twelve on either side\nThey stood, but the crown&d maiden no beauty with hers had vied 1\n\n/'And as many knights as were seated around that palace hall, 905\n\nSo to each four was there a server, with golden beaker tall,\n\nAnd a page so fair to look on who bare a napkin white—\n\nRiches enow, I trow me, had ye seen in the hall that night!\n\nAnd they bare there a hundred tables, at each table four knights would eat,\nAnd swiftly they spread them over with coverings fair and meet 910\n\nThe host himself took water, and heavy at heart was he,\n\nAnd Parzival, too, he washed him, for so should the custom be.\nA silken towel, bright coloured, a count’s son would proffer fair,\nSwift to the guest he gat him, and knelt low before him there.\n\nDigitized by VjiOUV It\n\nt\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n3x5 And wherever there stood a table there four squires were ready digbt\nTo serve the four who sat there, and their service they knew aright,\n\nFor twain would carve, low kneeling, and twain to the knights would bear\nOf food and drink as needful, and thus for their wants would care.\n\nNow hearken ye greater riches—on wheeled cars were rolled\nmo To every knight in order, fair vessels of wroughten gold,\n\nAnd four knights set them on the tables, and with each ye a steward might\nsee\n\nTo aid them, and claim the vessels when the feast at an end should be.\n\nNow hearken another marvel—to a hundred squires they spake,\n\nAnd they bade them in fair white napkins the bread from the Grail to take.\n\"5 And straightway they went, and to each knight at each table the bread they\nbare;\n\nAs I heard so I tell unto ye, and the truth ye, each one, shall swear,\n\n’Twas the Grail Itself that fed them, and before the Grail did stand\nWhat of food or drink desiring, each one might stretch forth his hand.\n(Would I here betray another then in sooth ye shall lie with me)\n\n330 Food warm or cold, or dishes that known or unknown shall be,\n\nFood wild or tame—Such riches ye never on earth shall find.\n\nSo many have said, yet I think me that folly doth rule their mind—\n\n•For the Grail was the crown of blessing, the fulness of earth’s delight,\nlAnd Its joys I right well may liken to the glories of Heaven’s height!\n\n•\n\n335 Then they brought in small golden vessels that which every man should need\nOf sauces, or salt, or pepper—would one sparely or fully feed, *\n\nYet each found enough—and courteous they bare to each noble guest;\n\nAnd red wine and sweet drinks luscious, each one as he liked him best\nMight speak the word, and proffer the cup, and behold 1 ’twas filled\n24* By the power of the Grail—Thus the hunger of that gallant host was stilled,\n1 And the Grail Itself sustained them, ancj^Parzival wondering saw\nJThe riches and mighty marvels, yet to question his host forbore.\n\nAnd he thought,‘ Gumemanz he bade me, in truth, without thought of guile,\nTo withhold my lips from question—If here I abide awhile\n345 Methinks it will then befall me as aforetime in Graharz land,\n\nThey will tell me, without my question, how here with this folk it stands.’\n\nDigitized by vjiOO^lC\n\nANFORTAS\n\nThen e’en as he sat thus musing came a squire who la sword did beai.\n\nAnd its sheath was a thousand marks’ worth, and its hilt was a ruby rare,\n\nAnd the blade, it might well work wonders—Then the host gave it to the I\nknight/ f ^ '\n\nAnd he spake, ‘ 1 full oft have borne it in many a deadly fight 350\n\nEre God’s Hand thus sorely smote me ; now with this shalt thou be repaid\nIf aught hath in care been lacking—Henceforth shalt thou bear this blade\nWhatever chance befall thee, and when thou its power hast tried\nThou wilt know thou art folly arm&d, whatever strife betide.’\n\nAh! woe to the guest that asked not, I am sorrowful for his sake, 255\n\nWhen his hand clasped the sword ’twas a token that his silence he well\nmight break.\n\nFor the host too my heart is heavy, thus tortured by nameless_woe,\n\n- And a question therefrom had freed him, yet to question his guest was\nslow.\n\nBut now the feast was ended, who the vessels hither bore\nAgain to their task they turn them, and they bear them forth once more. 260\ncars again they circle ; each maid to her task was fain\nFrom last to first; the noblest she turned to the Grail again,\n\nTo host and guest all-courteous the queen dnd her maidens bend,\n\nWhat they brought they once more would bear forth thro’ the door at the\nhigh hall’s end.\n\nAnd Parzival he gazed after, and lo ! thro’ the open door 965\n\nWithin an outer chamber, on a folding couch he saw\n\nThe fairest of old men ancient whom ever his eyes had seen,\n\nGrey was he as mists of morning—Nor o’er rash is the tale, I ween,\n\nWho he was shalt thou know^hereafter, when a fitting time shall be,\n\nThe host, his Burg, and his kingdom, yea, all will I name to ye, 270\n\nAnd all shall be clear and in order, no halting my tale shall know;\n\nMethinks that I then shall show ye the bowstring without the bow.\n\n’Tis a symbol good, the bowstring, for swift as ye deem the bow,\n\nYet the shaft that the bowstring speedeth findeth swifter its aim, I trow !\n\nAnd not without thought I said it, for the string, it seemeth me, 275\n\nIs like to the simple story wherewith men well-pleased shall be;\n\nDigitized by yjOUvlL\n\nI3«\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nFor it goeth straight to its ending, while he who aside shall stray,\n\nTho’ his goal at last he reacheth findeth all too long his way.\n\nWhen unbent the bow thou sawest, then straight was, I ween, the string,\n\n380 From the straight line thou erst must draw it, ere the shaft to its goal may\nwing.\n\nBut he who his story aimeth at the ear of a fool shall find\nHis shaft go astray, for no dwelling it findeth within his mind.\n\nToo wide is the road, I think me, and that which he chance to hear\nEre yet he may know the meaning flies out at the other ear.\n\n285 Far rather at home I ’Id bide me than in such ears ftiy story tell,\n\nA beast, or a stock, I think me, as a hearer would serve as welL\n\nBut further 1 fain would tell ye of this people so full of woe\nTo whom he had come, our hero, glad song might they seldom know,\n\nOr sound of dance or of Tourney ; so heavy were they at heart\n390 That never a thought of gladness might find in their life a part,\n\nAnd oft shall the folk be fewer yet of joy shall have fuller share,\n\nBut here every nook was crowded, nor space in the court to spare.\n\nThe host to his guest spake kindly, ‘ Methinks they thy couch have spread,\nArt thou weary ? then list my counsel, and get thee, my guest, to bed.’\n\n29S (Now here might I raise my war-cry at the parting betwixt the twain,\n\nFor I wot well that bitter sorrow each must from the venture gain.)\n\nTo the side of his host he stepped him, Parzival the fair of face,\n\nAnd the Fisher a fair night wished him—Then the knights stepped each\nfrom his place,\n\nAnd a part drew near towards him, and they led the stranger guest\n300 Straightway to a sleeping chamber, and goodly should be his rest\n’Twas richly decked for his honour, and the couch it was spread so fair\nThat my poverty sorely grieves me since the earth doth such riches bear.\n\nAnd that bed knew, I ween, no lacking, and a rich silk above it lay,\nBright-coloured its hue, and glowing as tho* fire-light did on it play;\n\n3°5 Then Parzival prayed the heroes to get them again to rest,\n\nFor he saw there but one couch only, and they passed hence at his behest.\n\nBut he lacked not for other service—His fair face and tapers light\nGave challenge unto each other—What day e’er might shine so bright?\n\nDigitized by vjiOO^lC\n\nANFORTAS\n\nAnd before his conch was another, thereon would he take his seat\n\nWhile pages drew them nearer, and proffered him service meet 3 zo\n\nAnd they bared his white feet comely, and they laid his robes aside,\n\nAnd of noble birth were these children, and fair in their youthful pride.\n\nThen there passed thro 9 the open doorway four maidens fair and bright,\n\nThey would know if they well had served him, and if soft lay the stranger\nknight\n\nAnd so the venture telleth, a squire a taper bare 315\n\nBefore each gentle maiden—Parzival, that hero fair,\n\nSprang swift to his couch ; then the maidens with gentle voice they spake,\n\n* Sir Knight, we fain would pray thee for our sake awhile to wake 1 —\n\nYet as children sport with each other had he hidden him from their sight\nEre yet they might hear his greeting, yet their eyes had found swift delight, 3 *>\nAnd their heart’s desire was quickened at the sight of his red lips’ glow\nThat for youth were as yet unhidden, for no hair did upon them grow.\n\nNow hear what they bare, these maidens, three in their hands so white\nBrought syrups sweet, and red wine, and the fourth, that maiden bright,\n\nBare fruit that e’erwhile had ripened in the garden of Paradise 325\n\nOn a cloth fair and white, and she knelt low before him that maiden wise,\n\nAnd he bade her sit, but she answered, * Nay, Sir Knight, so is it best\nFor else were I sure unworthy to serve such a gallant guest.’\n\nThen he drank and would eat a little, and he spake to them soft and sweet,\n\nAnd he laid him adown, and the maidens craved leave of him as was 33 °\nmeet\n\nThen down on the. costly carpet the squires set the tapers bright\n\nWhen they saw that he slept, and swiftly they gat from the gallant knight^\n\nYet Parzival lay not lonely, for until the dawn of day\nHeart-sorrow would lie beside him, nor passed with the dawn away. '\n\nAnd every coming anguish its heralds before would speed, 335\n\nE’en so that the fair youth’s vision out-weighed e’en his mother’s need\nWhen she dreamed ere the death of her husband. As a carpet unrolled\nhis dream,\n\nThe centre of fair jousts woven, while the edge was with swords agleam.\n\nAnd in slumber his foemen pressed him, add would swiftly upon him ■\nride;\n\nSo fearful his dream that, wakened, thirty times had he rather died. 3*°\n\nDigitized by vjUUV LC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThus fear and unrest awoke him, and the sweat streamed from every\nlimb;\n\nThe daylight shone fair thro’ the windows, yet no voice had called on him.\nThen he spake, * Where are now the pages, who stood before me of late ?\nWho shall hand unto me my garments ? ’ Then awhile would he patient wait\n345 Till slumber again o’ercame him; none spake, none aloud would cry,\nVanished the folk—When he wakened the noon-tide sun was high.\n\nThen he sprang up, and lo! before him on the carpet his harness lay,\n\nAndwo swords, his host’s gift, and the other from Prince Ither he bare\n\nipway.\n\nThe^ he spake to himself, ‘ Now wherefore was this done ? I these arms\nwttltake,\n\n35o In sleep 1 such anguish suffered, methinks that I surely wake\n\nTo-day to some task of knighthood—If mine host doth some foeman fear\nThen his will will I do right gladly, and faithful her prayer will hear\nWho of true heart this mantle lent me—If my service she think to take ~\nThen I were for such service joyful; yet not for her sweet love’s sake,\n\n355 For my wife hath a face as lovely as ever this castle’s queen,\n\nNay more, an the truth be spoken she is fairer far I ween! ’\n\nThen he did e’en as $eemed him fitting, and he armed himself for fight\nFrom foot to head, a A beside him he girded those swords of might.\n\nThen forth went the gallant hero, and his steed to the palace stair\n360 Was bound, shield and spear stood by it, and he joyed as he found them there.\n\nThen ere Parzival, the hero, his charger would mount again,\n\n1 He sought thro’ many a chamber, and he called on the folk amain,\n\nBut none might he see or hearken, and it vexed the knight full sore,\n\nAnd wrathful he grew—Yet seeking, the hero he came once more\n365 To where he at eve dismounted when first he the castle found,\n\nAnd the earth and grass were trampled, and the dew brushed from off the\nground.\n\nThen, shouting, he turned, the young knight, once more to his charger good,\nAnd with bitter words he mounted—Wide open the gateway stood,\n\nAnd the track led across the threshold ; nor longer he thought to stay\n370 But he turned his rein, and swiftly to the drawbridge he made his way,\n\nDigitized by vjiOCK^lC\n\nANFORTAS\n\nMi\n\nBut a hidden hand drew the rope taut, and the forepart it rose on high\nAnd well-nigh had his charger fallen, then he turned him right speedily\nFor fain would he ask the meaning, but the squire cried aloud in scorn,\n\n‘ Goose that thou art, ride onward, to the sun’s hate hast thou been bom!\n\n[Thy mouth hadst thou thought to open, of these wonders hadst asked thine 375\n1 host,\n\n[Great fame had been thine—But I tell thee now hast thou this fair chance\nlost! ’\n\nThen the guest cried aloud for his meaning, but answer he ne’er might win.\n\nFor the squire made as if he slumbered, and the portal he barred witlpn.\n\nToo early for peace his parting, and the hour it hath brought him woe,\n\nAnd he payeth in joy the tribute, nor longer may gladness know; | 3 80\n\nAnd doubled the throw of sorrow since here he had found the Grail,\n\nWith his eyes, not his hand, had he cast it, and dice to the throw should fail.\n\nIf by grief he be now awakened such was never his wont of yore, s\n\nFor naught had he known but gladness, nor sorrow of heart he bore. \\\n\nOn the track that he saw before him would Parzival ride Space, 385\n\nAnd he thought, ‘ They who go before me to-day will a foeman face\nAnd fight for their master’s honour; an they knew it, their ring of might\nMethinks would be little weakened if 1 in their ranks should fight.\n\n1 would waver not, but would aid them whate’er be their need to-day,\n\nThus my bread would 1 earn, and this fair sword, the gift of my host, repay, 390\nUndeserved as yet do I bear it—Sure they hold me for coward knight!’\n\nThen he turned him, the free from falsehood, where the hoof-tracks still\nmet his sight,\n\n(And sorely I rue his parting—Now the venture doth grow apace,)\n\nThey had parted who rode before him, and their track he might scarcely trace,\nWhat aforetime was broad waxed narrow till he lost it nor found it more 395\nAnd tidings he heard, the hero, that wrought to him sorrow sore.\n\nFor the young knight, rich in courage, heard a woman’s voice make moan.\n\n(On the grass lay the dew of morning) On a Baden there sat alone\nA maiden, whose truth wrought her sorrow, for between her arms so white\nEmbalmed did she lifeless hold him who living had been her knight. 400\n\nWere there one who saw her sorrow and mourned not for her bitter woe\nThen false of heart must I hold him, one who true love might never know!\n\nDigitized by vjVJUV LC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThen he turned his steed towards her, tho* as yet unknown was she,\n(Tho’ the child of his mother’s sister)—As the wind that fleeteth free\n405 Is all earthly faith to her true love—Then Parzival greeting spake,\n\n* Lady, methinks that sorrow I must bear for thy sorrow’s sake,\n\nAn thou needst in aught my service, would it free thee from further ill,\nThen look thou on me as thy servant, thy grief were I fain to still! ’\n\nThen sadly her thanks she bade him, and asked him, c Whence earnest thou\nhere ?\n\n4 X ° He were ill-advised who his journey should take thro’ this woodland drear.\nTo them who know not its pathways great evil might here betide.\n\nYea, oft have I seen and hearkened how men in this wood have died,\n\nFor death was in strife their portion—Turn hence then, thou gallant knight,\nAn thou lovest life—Yet tell pie in what shelter didst pass the night ? ’\n\n4 X 5 ( But a mile from here stands a castle, there I thro’ the night abode,\n\nAnd naught have I seen like its riches, from thence in short space I rode.’\nThen the maiden she looked upon him, and she spake, * Now, methinks,\n’twere ill\n\nWith falsehood to thus betray them who trust thee with right goodwill\nFrom thy shield art thou here a stranger, and canst naught but woods have\nfound,\n\n430 An here thou hast ta’en thy journey from planted and builded ground.\n\nFor thirty miles round have they never, for a dwelling, hewn wood or stone,\nSave but for one Burg, in this region that Burg it doth stand alone,\nj ’Tis rich in all earthly riches, yet he who that castle fair\nJ Would seek, he may never find it, tho’ many that quest shall dare.\n\n425 Unawares must they chance upon it, for 1 wot in no other wise\nI Shall that Burg and all that it holdeth be looked on by mortal eyes.\n\nSir Knight, thou hast never seen it; Monsalvasch I ween its name,\n\nTerre de Salvasch the kingdom where its lord the crown may claim,\n\n1 And Titurel once bequeathed it to his son King Frimutel,\n\n430 So they called him, the dauntless hero ; much fame to his portion fell,\n\nIn a joust was be slain at Love's bidding, and four children fair he left,\nf And three, they have store of riches, yet are they of joy bereft.\n\n•’ And poor is the fourth, for penance hath he chosen this lot I trow,\ni Trevrezent is his name—Anfortas, his brother, hath grief enow,\n\n435 He can neither stand, nor be seated, nor walk, but must aye recline.\n\nAt Monsalvasch he hath his dwelling, the head of that noble line.*\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nANFORTAS\n\nM3\n\nThen she spake, 4 If indeed thou earnest [to that folk who so sore doth mourn\nThen perchance is their king releas&d from the burden he long hath borne?’\nOut spake the Waleis, ‘ I saw truly great marvels, and many a maid\nOf beauty rare ’— she knew him by his voice ere the words were said. 44 °\n\nAnd she quoth, 4 Now indeed 1 know thee, for in sooth art thou Parzival 1\nDidst thou see the mournful monarch ? Didst thou see the wondrous Grail ?\n\nAh l tell me the joyful tidings, may his woe at last be stilled ?\n\nWell is thee that the bless&d journey thou hast ta’en, now shall earth be\nfilled,\n\nAs far as the winds of heaven may blow, with thy fair renown ; 445\n\nNaught on earth but shall do thee service, fulfilment each wish shall crown! ’\n\nThen Parzival spake in wonder, 4 Say, Lady, whence knowest thou me?’\n\nAnd she answered, 4 I am that maiden who erewhile made her plaint to thee,\n\n1 am she who thy name first told thee, near of kin to that gracious queen\nThy mother, of all earth's blossoms the fairest flower, I ween, 45°\n\nTho* a flower that the dew ne’er nourished 1 May God reward thee well\nWho didst truly mourn my hero who in knightly combat fell.\n\nSee, here in my arms I hold him, now think thou upon the woe\nGod hath laid for his sake upon me who too short a life must know ;\n\nRich was he in all manly virtues, his death it has wrought me pain, 455\n\nAnd day by day as it dawneth reneweth my plaint again ! ’\n\n4 Alas I is it thou, Sigund ? Say, where are thy lips so red\n\nThat gave me to wit so truly who I was ? From thy youthful head\n\nHave thy locks so brown and waving been shorn since 1 saw thee last;\n\nThen wert thou still fair to look on, tho’ sorrow might hold thee fast, 460\n\nNow pale art thou waxed and feeble, such friendship, methinks with woe\nHad vexed me too much, hear my counsel, and bury this dead knight low ! ’\n\nGreat tears bedewed her garments, for ne’er to that maiden fair\nHad any given such counsel as Lunete to her lady bare. %\n\n(This rede did she give to her lady, 4 Let him live who thy lord hath slain, 465\nThou shalt in his love hereafter amends for thy sorrow gain.')\n\nNot such was the will of Sigun£, as maidens of wavering mind,\n\n(On their names I had best keep silence) here the tale of true love ye’ll find.\nThen she spake, 4 If joy e’er befall me that shall be when I know relief\n\nDigitized by * L.oogle\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n470 Is his, who so long hath suffered, when is lightened his load of grief.\n\nIf thro’ thee he hath found this succour then in truth shall all praise be\nthine;\n\nMethinketh e’en now at thy girdle do I see his sword to shine—\n\nIf its magic spell thou knowest then to strife mayest thou fearless fare,\n\nFor its edge is keen—Its maker a noble name doth bear,\n\n475 Trebuchet’s hand hath wrought it; by Karnant there flows a spring,\n\nAnd i Lac' from the name of that streamlet methinks is he named, the king.\nThe sword will withstand the first blow, at the next it will break in twain,\n\nAn thou to these waters bring it from their flow ’twill be whole again.\n\nYet where at its source the streamlet flows forth from its rocky bed,\n\n480 Shalt thou seek those healing waters ere the sun stand high o’erhead.\n\nLac is the name of that fountain—If unsplintered shall be the blade\nThen press thou its halves together, from the waters shall it be made,\n\nNot whole alone, but stronger the blade and the edge shall grow,\n\nNor their brightness and fair adorning be dimmed by the water’s flow.\n\n4®5 Yet a spell thou first must master, ere thou draw that sword of might,\n\nThou hast left it behind, I fear me ! Hast thou learnt its words aright, *\nThen in truth all earthly blessings shall blossom and bear for thee—\n\nBelieve me, dear my cousin, what of marvels thou there couldst see,\n\nTo thine hand shall they all do service ; the crown of blessings fair\n49 ® Uplifted o’er all earth’s noblest henceforward thine head shall bear.\n\nAnd thine is desire’s fulfilment, and none with thy wealth and might\nMay measure himself, if the question hath won at thy lips its right! *\n\nThen he quoth, ( Nay, I asked no question ! ’ ‘ Alas ! ’ cried the mournful\nmaid,\n\n‘ That ever mine eyes have seen thee, who to question wast sore afraid!\n\n495 Such marvels they there have shown thee, yet no word might they win from\nthee,\n\nWhen thou sawest the Grail, and those maidens who serve It, from falsehood\nfree,\n\nFair Garschiloie, and yet fairer Repanse de Schoie the queen.\n\nThou hast seen the knives of silver, thou the bleeding spear hast seen—\nAlas ! wherefore hast thou sought me? Dishonoured, accurst art thou\n500 Who bearest wolf’s fang empoisoned! And deep in thine heart I trow\n1 j Is it rooted, the plant of falsehood, and afresh doth it ever spring !\n\nv Thou shouldst have had pity on him, Anfortas, their host and king,\n\n1 Digitized by* ^ ooQle\n\nANFORTAS\n\nMS\n\nAnd have asked of his bitter sorrow, on whom God hath a wonder sped^ I\nNow thou livest, and yet I tell thee to bliss art thou henceforth dead ! ’\n\nThen he spake, ( Nay, gentle cousin, show kindness to me 1 pray, SOS\n\nIf in aught I have sinned, repentance my sin sure shall put away ! 1\n‘ Little good may repentance do thee,’ quoth the maiden,‘for well I know\nThat thy knightly fame and honour at Monsalvasch were laid alow.\n\nAnd never a further answer or word shalt thou win from me.’\n\nThen Parzival turned his bridle and left her right mournfully. C 1 ^ S*°\n\nThat his lips were so slow to question when he sat by the mournful king, ,\n\nTo the heart of the gallant hero must sorrow and rueing bring;\n\nAnd thus thro* his heavy trouble, and the heat of the summer’s day,\n\nGreat sweat-drops stood on his forehead as he rode on his lonely way.\n\nFor the sake of the air he loosened his helmet and visor band, 5*5\n\nAnd his face shone fair thro’ the iron-rust as he carried them in his hand.\n\nThen he saw a fresh track, and before him short space did two horses fare,\n\nA war-horse was one, well harnessed, but unshod was, I ween, the mare,\n\nAnd it bare on its back a woman—Behind her he took his way,\n\nAnd he looked on her steed, to hunger o’er-long had it been a prey; 5*>\n\nThro* its skin might its ribs be counted, a halter of hemp its rein,\n\nIts colour was white as an ermine, to the hoofs hung the untrimmed mane ;\n\nThe eyeballs were sunk in the sockets, the hollows were deep and wide,\n\nAnd I ween that this lady’s palfrey by famine had oft been tried.\n\n’Twas lean and dry as touchwood, ’twas a marvel it yet could go, 5 »S\n\nFor little should she who rode it of the care of a charger know.\n\nNarrow and poor the trappings that lay on that charger’s back,\n\nThe saddle and bells were shattered, and much did the harness lack;\n\nAnd the lady was sad, not joyful, and her girth was a hempen cord,\n\nYet, I ween, was her birth too noble in such guise to ride abroad. 530\n\nBy twigs and thorny branches tattered her shift and torn,\n\nAnd the rags had she knit together where’er it had been out-worn,\n\nBut beneath her skin gleamed spotless, white as the swan’s white wing ;\n\nAnd naught but rags was her clothing—where they might some shelter bring\nThere her skin was fair to look on, but elsewhere ’twas \"by sunburn dyed. 535\n\nYet her lips were red, tho’ sorrow and want she must long abide,\n\nVOL. L Digitized by Google K\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd so glowing and bright their colour a fire had ye kindled there,\n\nAnd where-e'er one would ride beside her on that side had ye found her bare.\nYet of base degree to hold her were to do her a wrong, I ween,\n\n540 Tho' little had she upon her, yet guiltless she aye had been—\n\n(Of your courtesy shall ye heed me, she forgot not her womanhood)\n\nOf her poverty have I told ye, yet wherefore ? If ye deem good\nThen this will I say, that ragged and bare I this dame would take\nO'er many a well-clad maiden, were it fitting my choice to make.\n\n545 As Parzival bade her greeting, she saw him, and red she £rew,\n\nOf all men was he the fairest, small marvel his face she knew.\n\nThen she quoth, ‘Once before have I seen thee,great grief have I won thro*\nthee:\n\nGod grant to thee greater honour than thou hast deserved from me!\n\nFar other hath been my raiment when thousawest me last, I wot,\n\n550 Hadst thou ne'er in that hour come near me then honour were still my lot!’\n\nThen he spake, ‘ Now bethink thee, Lady, who thus should thy hatred claim,\nFor never my hand, I think me, hath brought to a woman shame,\n\n(So had I myself dishonoured) since ever I bare a shield,\n\nOr thought upon deeds of knighthood, or hath striven in battle-field ;\n\n555 Yet else am I sad for thy sorrow 1' Then forth brake the tear-drops bright,\nAnd ran fast adown her bosom, and over her breasts so white,\n\nSo fair, and so softly moulded, that neyer might turner's skill,\n\nTho' swiftly he wrought and rounded, his task in such wise fulfil\nAnd so lovely was she in her sorrow his heart was to pity fain,\n\n560 And with hands and arms a cover from his glance did she strive to gain.\n\nThen Parzival spake, ‘ Now, Lady, of true service from mocking free,\n\nIn God's Name take thou here my surcoat, a covering 'twill be for thee.’\n\n‘ Nay, Sir Knight, I may never take it, e'en tho 1 bliss I thereby should gain,\nRide swift on thy way, I pray thee, an thou wouldst not we both were slain ;\n565 Tho’ my death it would little grieve me, if I fear me, 'tis for thy sake ! ’\n\n‘ Say, Lady, who thus would wrong us ? Who thinketh our life to take ?\nTwas God's hand that gave it to us—Nay, were they an arm&d host\nWho here for our life were thirsting, I would face them nor fear the cost! *\n\nThen she spake, °Tis a dauntless hero, so gallant in strife is he\n570 That heavy would be their labour if six should his foemen be;\n\nDigitized by Google\n\nANFORTAS\n\n(I would thou wert not beside me) I aforetime his wife had been,\n\nYet so poor am 1 now and wretched, for his slave were 1 all too mean,\nThus his wrath doth he wreak upon me.’ To that lady he spake again,\n\n‘ Say, who rideth here with thy husband ? For if 1 to fly were fain,\n\nAs here thou dost give me counsel, thyself sure wouldst deem it ill,\n\nEre of flight I have learnt the lesson I would die with a right good will! ’\n\nThen out spake the Duchess sadly, ‘ Alone with my lord 1 fare,\n\nBut yet that may little serve thee, nor shall victory be here thy share.’\n\nAnd in rags was all her vesture, and naught but the hem untorn,\n\nYet the crown of woman’s honour in her poverty had she worn,\n\nAnd her ways were ways of goodness, and falsehood afar had fled—\n\nThen he bound afresh his visor and the helmet upon his head\nAs one who to battle rideth—Then his charger aloft would rear,\n\nIt was ’ware of the steed beside it, and its neigh rang out loud and clear;\n\nAnd he who a space before them on the woodland way would ride, 585\n\nHe hearkened the sound, and would see him who rode there by his lady’s\n* side.\n\nThen he turned his bridle wrathful by the side of the narrow way,\n\nAnd with lance in rest for jousting Duke Orilus rode that day,\n\nAnd manly, I ween, his bearing, from Gaheviess came his spear,\n\nAnd weapon alike and harness of one colour were blazoned clear. 59 o\n\nHis helmet, Trebuchet wrought it; the shield in distant Spain\nWas welded fair for the hero, King Kailet in that land doth reign,\n\nAnd strong were the rim and the centre—In Alexandria’s city fair\nWas the costly pfellel woven that for surcoat and coat he ware.\n\nThe covering of his charger at Tenabroc was it made\nOf rings of steel close welded—And thus he his pride displayed,\n\nFor over the iron cover lay a pfellel so fair to see,\n\nAnd all men who saw bare witness that costly its worth must\nAnd gorget, and greaves, and headgear, tho’ rich, yet their weight was light,\nAnd many a plate of iron it guarded this gallant knight; 600\n\nIn Beklzenan was it fashioned, chief city of fair Anjou.\n\n(Bat she who rode bare behind him far other her garb to view,\n\nFor in sooth might she find none better) from Soissons his breastplate\ncame,\n\nBut he won his gallant charger from the far-off lak$ Brintbane,\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n605 In the mountains of Monsalvasch—Lahelein, his brother bold,\n\nIn a joust o’erthrew the rider, and the steed as his prize would hold.\n\nAnd Parzival too was ready—his charger in onward flight\n’Gainst Orilus of Lalandd bare swiftly the gallant knight;\n\nAnd he saw on his shield a dragon, yea, e’en as it were alive,\n\n610 And another upon the helmet fast bounden did upward strive.\n\nAnd many small golden dragons on surcoat and robe he bare,\n\nEnriched with many a jewel, and with red eyes of ruby fair.\n\nFrom afar would they make their onslaught, these dauntless heroes twain,\nNo need to renounce their friendship, nor thro’ kinship from strife refrain,\n\n615 Aloft flew the spears in splinters—Methinks I might vaunt me well\nIf I such a joust had witnessed as here in this wood befell!\n\nThus they rode at swiftest gallop not one joust alone, I ween,\n\nAnd Jeschutd at heart bare witness fairer jousting she ne’er had seen ;\n\nSo she stood, and her hands she wrung them, this lady of joy bereft,\n\n620 Nor harm did she wish to either, that one should be lifeless left.\n\nIn sweat were they bathed, the chargers, and the knights they strove for fame,\nAnd sparks sprang bright from the sword-blades, and forth from the helm\nflashed flame,\n\nAnd the blows fell fierce and mighty, and far flashed the light of strife,\n\nNone were better than they in battle, and they met here for death or life,\n\n635 And tho’ willing and swift the chargers that the heroes would here bestride,\nThey forgot not their spurs, and their sword-blades bright-glancing they\ndeftly plied.\n\nAnd Parzival won him honour, for here hath he rightly shown\nHow before a hundred dragons one man well might hold his own.\n\nAnd ill did it fare with one dragon, and sore were its wounds that day,\n\n630 ’Twas the crest that aloft in glory on Orilus’ helmet lay,\n\nAnd so clear that the light shone thro’ them were the costly jewels bright\nThat fell when the helm was smitten by Parzival’s sword of might;\n\n’Twas on horse, not afoot, that they fought thus—The love of her angry\nlord\n\nWas won back again for Jeschutl by the play of the glittering sword.\n\n635 Then tfiey dashed again on each other so close that they smote away,\n\nWith their knees, the rings of iron—So valiant in strife were they !\n\nDigitized by VjOO^lC\n\nANFORTAS\n\nI will tell ye why one was wrathful; that his lady of royal race\n\nEre this had been shamed; her guardian, from him might she look for grace ;\n\nYet he deemed that with wandering fancy her heart from her lord had strayed,\nAnd that she, in the love of another, her honour had lowly laid. 640\n\nAnd he would for such wrong have vengeance, and his judgment on her ^\nwas done\n\nIn such wise, save were death her portion no woman such woe had won,\n\nAnd yet she in naught had wronged him—If his favour he would withhold,\n\nWhat man e’er might think to hinder ? For ever from days of old\n\nThe man hath power o’er the woman, the husband shall rule the wife. *45\n\nYet Parzival the hero, he thought him to win with strife\n\nFor Jeschutd her husband’s favour—Me thinks one should pray such grace\n\nIn courteous wise, but flattery it here found but little place.\n\nAnd both they were right, I think me—He who ruleth the ways of life,\n\nOr straight they may be or crooked, ’twas His so to rule their strife 6 5 °\n\nThat never to one nor the other the joust death for guerdon brought,\n\nHarm enow had they done to each other the while they so fiercely fought.\n\nNow hotter it waxed, the conflict, each hero would fain defend\nHis Ipightly fame ’gainst the other; Duke Orilus of Lalande,\n\nHe fought with the skill and cunning his hand had learnt of yore, 6 SS\n\nFor I ween none like him had battled—he had courage and strength in\nwar,\n\nAnd therefore had he been victor on many a foughten field,\n\nTho’ other were here the ending—His foe would he force to yield;\n\nAnd he threw his arms around him, the hero so proud and bold,\n\nBut Parzival, little daunted, on his foeman made good his hold, 660\n\nAnd he drew him from off his saddle ; as a sheaf from the field ye reap\nSo beneath his arm he swung him, and light from his horse did leap.\n\nO’er a fallen tree he held him, for here was he overthrown\nWho never of need or peril such fortune before had known.\n\n* Now do penance for this thine anger that hath wrought to thy lady woe, 665\nAn thy favour be yet withholden, then death shalt thou surely know 1’\n\n‘ Nay, nay, not so swift,’ quoth his foeman, Duke Orilus of Lalande,\n\n* Tho’ overthrown, I am not so vanquished that I may not thy will withstand ! ’\n\nThen Parzival, strong and valiant, his foeman he gripped amain,\n\nAnd forth thro’ the visor gushing streamed the blood in a crimson rain,\n\nDigitized by vjiOO^lC\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd tbe prince, I ween, was vanquished, he could win from him what he\nwould,\n\nTo die was he all unwilling, and he spake to the hero good,\n\n‘Alas ! thou bold knight dauntless, who evil on me hath sped,\n\nSay how have 1 earned this peril, to lie here before thee, dead ? ’\n\n675 Then Parzival quoth, ‘Right gladly, Sir Knight, will I let thee live,\n\nIf favour and love to thy lady thou swearest again to give ! *\n\n‘ That I will not! Her sin against me I trow all too great shall be.\n\nRich in honour she was; she hath injured herself and she plungeth me,\n\nHer lord, in yet deeper sorrow. In all else thy will 1 ’ll heed,\n\n680 An thou thinkest my life to leave me—Twas God gave it me indeed,\n\nNow thine hand is become His servant, to give it to me anew,\n\nAnd I to thy valour owe it*—In this wise spake the hero true :\n\n‘ For my life will I give fair ransom, for kingdoms twain, I trow,\n\nMy brother with might hath won him, of riches he hath enow.\n\n685 Thou shalt ask as it best may please thee : if from death thou wilt set me\nfree, %\n\nHe loveth me, and will loose me whatever the cost may be.\n\nAnd my Dukedom again as thy vassal will I take from thy valiant hand,\nThy fame it shall gain new lustre, since I might not thy power withstand.\nNow release me, thou hero dauntless, from forgiveness of her, my wife ;\n\n690 Whatever shall be for thine honour, by that will I buy my life,\n\nBut with her, my dishonoured Duchess, at peace will I never be,\n\nNay, not for all pain or sorrow that shall otherwise fell tome!’\n\nQuoth Parzival, ‘ Folk or kingdoms, or riches or jewels rare,\n\nAll these they shall nothing profit—Thy pledge thou to me shalt swear\n695 In naught to delay thy journey, but to haste thee to Brittany\n\nWhere dwelleth a gentle maiden—One hath smitten her sore for me,\n\nAnd I will on that man have vengeance, an his safety she shall not pray—\nThy pledge and my loyal service bear thou to that maid straightway,\n\nOr here, without fail, I slay thee—To King Arthur and to his queen,\n\n700 To both shalt thou bear my greeting; well paid hath my service been,\n\nIf they for that blow ill-smitten the maiden do well entreat\nBut first will I see that thou givest to this lady thine homage meet,\n\nAnd that without guile—Dost withstand me, and thinkest my will to dare,\nOn a bier, and no more on a charger, from hence shalt thou lifeless fere!\n\nDigitized by vjOCK^lC\n\nANFORTAS\n\n*51\n\nNow mark thou my words, for their doing a pledge shah thou straightway 705\ngive,\n\nAnd thy surety swear unto me, if longer thou fain wouldst live 1 *\n\nTo King Parzival spake his foeman, Duke Orilus, 1 Helpeth naught\n’Gainst this thy will, 1 will do it, for fain 1 my life had bought! ’\n\nIn the fear for the life of her husband Jeschutl, that lady fair,\n\nMourned sore for his woe, yet the foemen to part might she little dare. 710\n\nThen Parzival bade him rise up, and speak to his lady bright\n\nThe words of peace and of pardon ; and thus quoth the vanquished knight,\n\n‘ Lady, since this my shaming in strife hath been for thy sake,\n\nSo be it, the kiss of forgiveness from my lips shalt thou herewith take.\n\nThro* thee have I lost much honour—What boots it ? I pardon sware!’ 7*5\n\nThen swift from her steed on the meadow sprang the lady with white limbs\nbare,\n\nTho* the blood that ran from his nostrils had dyed his mouth with red,\n\nYet she kissed him e’en as he bade her, so was ParzivaTs bidding sped.\n\nThen the three rode on together till a hermit’s cell they saw | f\nIn the rocky wall, and our hero his bridle was fain to draw; 7*>\n\nFor he saw there a shrine so holy, and a spear with fair colours blent\nStood beside the shrine; ’twas the dwelling of the hermit Trevrezent ^\n\nThere Parzival dealt with honour—On the relic an oath he sware,! \\\n\nHimself laid the oath upon him, and he spake and they hearkenea fair;\n\n* If I have worth or valour, as ’seemeth a gallant knight— 725\n\nIf I have it or not let those witness who have looked on my shield in fight;\n\nYea, let them approve my knighthood, for knighthood’s power may claim,\n\nAs the shield-bearer oft shall tell us, high guerdon of praise and fame,\n\nAnd the name of knight is honoured—My body to shame for aye\nWill I give, and my fame and honour henceforth sh&ll be put away; 730\n\n(With these words I my bliss would pledge here in the Hand that shall\nhighest be,\n\nAnd that Hand is God’s Hand, I think me)—All loss, bitter mockery, x\nIn this life and the next be my portion from His power, if this lady fair I\n\nE’er did thee wrong when it chanced her that the clasp from her robe / tare— i\n(Of a token of gold I robbed her)—A fool and no man was I, 735\n\nNot yet had I waxed to wi sdom—And sore did she weep thereby,\n\nDigitized by VjOOQIC\n\nV\n\nI\n\nAnd anguish and grief she suffered; yea, guiltless was she that day—\nAnd forfeit my bliss and mine honour if the words be not truth I say!\nNow see, dost thou hold her guiltless thou shalt give her her ring again,\n740 From the clasp I in such wise parted that my folly must bear the blame !’\n\nThen the Duke took the ring, and the blood-stains he wiped from his lips away,\nAnd he kissed her, his heart’s best treasure—And a covering she won straight¬\nway;\n\nThe ring he placed on her finger, with his surcoat her shame would hide,\nTho’ hewn by the hand of hero, of rich silk was it fashioned wide.\n\n745 But seldom in coat emblazoned mine eyes have a woman seen,\n\nAnd this one was marred in combat. No war-cry was hers, I ween,\n\nThat should summon the knights to Tourney, and never a spear she brake\nWhatever her garb—In Tourney far better the part they Id take,\nLambekein, methinks, and the good squire, if together they thought to fight—\n750 But now was the lady pardoned, and her sorrow had taken flight.\n\nQuoth Orilus, ‘ Now, thou hero, the oath thou didst freely swear,\n\nGreat joy and small grief hath brought me; tho’ shaming I needs must\nbear,\n\nYet gladness therefrom I win me—In all honour I will repay\nThis lady true for her sorrow when I put her in shame away.\n\n755 And since all alone I left her she was guiltless did aught betide;\n\nYet so did she speak of thy beauty, methought there was more beside.\n\nBut now may God reward thee, thou hast shown her from falsehood free,\n\nI have done her a wrong—Thro’ the young wood have I ridden in search of\nthee\n\nI Afar from Briziljan’s forest’ Then Parzival took the spear,\n\n760 Wild Taurian, Dodine’s brother, erewhile had he left it here.\n\nNow say where the heroes rested, or how they would pass the night—\nHelmet and shield had suffered, they were shattered and hewn in fight\nThen Parzival to the lady, and her husband, a farewell bade;\n\nThe Duke to his hearth would bid him, ’twas in vain howsoe’er he prayed.\n\n765 So here, as the venture telleth, they parted, those heroes twain,\n\nAnd the Prince Orilus he sought him his pavilion and folk again.\n\nAnd glad were his faithful people with one mind when at last they saw\n\nTheir lord and his gracious lady dwell in\n\npeace and in love once more.\n\nGoogle\n\nANF*ORTAS\n\nNor longer was there delaying, the Duke he aside would lay\nHis arms, and the rust and blood-stains from his face did he wash away; 770\n\nBy her hand he led the Duchess where atonement he fain would make,\nWeeping she lay beside him for joy, not for sorrow’s sake.\n\nFor such is the way of women, know ye not the saying well ?*\n\n‘ Tearful eyes make sweet lips,’ of such lore methinks I yet more might tell!\nFor Lore knoweth joy as sorrow, and he who the twain would weigh 775\n\nh* a balance shall find them equal an he testeth the scales alway!\n\nAt peace were they now, full surely, forthwith to the bath they went,\n\nTwelve fair maidens they waited on her, with them had she shared her tent,\nThey had tended her since, all guiltless, the wrath of her love she bare;\n\n(At night might she lie well covered, tho* by day she ill-dad must fare) 780\nAnd joyful they bathed their lady—But now are ye fain to hear\nHow Orilus won him tidings that King Arthur would now draw near.\n\nFor thus spake a knight to his master,*On a grassy plain I saw\nIn fair and knightly order a thousand tents, yea, more,\n\nFor Arthur the noble monarch, the King of the Breton’s land 785\n\nWith a wondrous fair host of maidens his court holdeth nigh at hand ;\n\nMethinks scarce a mile are they distant, nor shout of knights shall fail,\n\nOn either side Plimizbl’s waters their camp lies adown the vale . 1\n\nThen the Duke in haste and gladness forth from his bath he stept—\n\nWould ye know how she fared, Jeschutd ? No longer the lady wept, 790\n\nBut she went, the fair and gentle, from her bath to her couch straightway,\n\nAnd far fairer, I ween, her garments than she ware for. many a day.\n\nAnd closely they clung together, the prince and the princess wise,\n\nAnd Love came to the aid of gladness, and joy here hath won the prize.\n\nThen the maidens they clad their lady, but the knights their lord’s armour 795\nbrought,\n\nAnd much had ye praised the vesture of Jeschutd, ’twas fairly wrought.\n\nAnd birds caught in snares they brought them, on their couch did they sit\nthe twain,\n\nAnd joyful they ate; many kisses from her lord did Jeschutd gain 1\n\nThen they brought to the lovely lady a palfrey, so strong and fair,\n\n’Twas bridled, and richly saddled, and a lady right well might bear,\n\nDigitized by vjiOCK^IC\n\n*54\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd they lifted her to the saddle, with her brave lord she hence would ride;\nBut his charger was armed, as for battle the knight would his steed bestride,\nAnd the sword he that mom had wielded hung the saddle-bow before.\n\nThen from foot to head well arm id he came forth to his steed once more,\n8°5 And there, where his lady waited, to the saddle he sprung, the knight,\n\nHe would ride forth without delaying, with Jeschutd his lady bright\nBut his folk should fare back to Lalande, save one knight who should show\nthe way\n\nTo the camp and the court of King Arthur, so he counselled his folk that day.\n\nSoon came they anear King Arthur, and his tents they right well espied,\n\n810 For the space of a mile they stretched them adown by the water’s side.\n\nThe knight who had led him hither he bade to his folk repair,\n\nNo comrade he’Id have save Jeschuti, his lady so true and fair.\n\nAnd Arthur, the brave and humble, he sat where at eve he ’Id eat,\n\nOn a plain with his vassals round him, in order due and meet.\n\n815 Duke Orilus rode to their circle, and none might his blazon know,\n\nSo hewn were both shield and helmet—’twas Parzival dealt such blow !\n\nFrom his horse sprang the gallant hero, Jeschutd she held his rein ;\n\nSwift sprang the squires to aid them, and thronged close around the twain.\nAnd they spake, ‘ We will care for the horses,’—Orilus, on the grass he laid\n8ao His shield so marred and splintered, and he asked of the gracious maid\nFor whose sake he had ridden thither, and they showed him the lady’s seat,\nKunnewaard she was of Lalande, and her mien for a maid was meet\n\nThen, armed, he drew near unto them—King and queen bade him welcome\nfair,\n\nHe thanked them, and to his sister his pledge was he fain to swear,\n\n835 But the maiden, right well she knew him by the golden dragon’s shine,\n\nAnd she spake, ‘ Thou art sure my brother, Orilus, or Lahelein,\n\nAnd pledge will I take from neither, for both of ye aye were fain\nTo render to me such service as I from your hands would gain.\n\nI were dead to all truth and honour if I dealt with thee as a foe,\n\n830 My courtesy sure were sham&d by my own hand, and laid alow.’\n\nThen the prince knelt before the maiden and he spake, ‘Thou the truth\nhath said,\n\nI am Orilus thy brother; the Red Knight this oath hath laid\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nANFORTAS\n\nOn me that my pledge 1 yield thee, for so most 1 buy my life,\n\nWilt thou take it, then have 1 done that which 1 sware after bitter strife.’\n\nThen his pledge, who had borne the dragon, in her white hand the maid 835\nmust take,\n\nAnd she set him free, and he rose up, and thus to his sister spake:\n\n‘ Now to sorrow shall faith constrain me, alas! who hath smitten thee ?\n\nThe blows perforce must wound me—He who lusted thereto might see;\n\nIf this were the hour for vengeance, that grief I with thee must share ;\n\nAnd the bravest of men moumeth with me that ever a woman bare, 840\n\nHe calleth himself the Red Knight—O king! he doth bid me greet\nBoth thee and the queen thy lady, he doth offer ye service meet,\n\nAs he fain would serve this my sister—His service ye*will repay,\n\nIf ye kindly entreat this maiden that her shaming be put away.\n\nAnd I, too, had fared far better at the hand of this dauntless knight, 845\n\nHad he known the maid for my sister, and her blows on my heart must\nlight.’\n\nNow Kay, he hath earned fresh hatred from all who would there abide,\n\nBoth knights and gentle ladies, by PlimizoPs flowing tide,\n\nFrom lofreit the son of Idol, from Gawain, and the vanquished king\nKlamidd, of whose sore peril I of yore unto ye would sing. 850\n\nAnd from many another hero whose names I right well had told,\n\nBut o’er-long would it be my story—So they thronged round the hero bold,\n\nAnd, courteous, he took their service—his wife would they nearer bring,\n\nShe sat as yet on her palfrey, and they welcomed her, queen and king.\n\nThen the women they kissed each other, and thus spake the king so true, 855\n‘ Thy father, King Lac of Kamant, for a gallant man I knew,\n\nFor his sake I mourned thy sorrow when first men the tale did bear,\n\nMethinks that thy lord should have spared thee for the sake of thy face so\nfair!\n\nFor the prize was thine at Kanedig thro* the light of thy beauty’s ray,\n\nAnd the hawk didst thou win for thy fairness, on thine hand did it ride away. 860\nIf Orilus wrong hath done me, yet I wished unto thee no ill,\n\nAnd never I liked his judgment; and so doth it please me still\nTo see thee restored to favour, and clad in these garments fair,\n\nAs fitting thy state, O Lady ! since woe thou o’erJong; didst bear.’\n\nDigitized by VjOOQlv\n\n156 PARZIVAL\n\n865 And she quoth, ‘ Now may God reward thee, O Sire! for these words so\ntrue,\n\nThat thy fame may wax the higher, and may blossom and bloom anew ! ’\n\nThen Jeschutd and her husband, the twain, she took by the hand,\n\nAnd forth from the circle led them, the maiden of fair Lalande.\n\nAnd near to the royal pavilion, where a stream from the meadow sprung,\n\n870 Stood her tent on the plain, and above it a wing&d dragon hung;\n\nHalf an apple it held in its clutches, and four ropes did it draw on high,\n\nE’en as if the tent it lifted, and aloft to the clouds would fly.\n\nAnd Orilus thereby knew it, for the self-same arms he bare,\n\nAnd beneath it would they disarm him—Then his sister so true and fair,\n\n875 She gave him due care and honour, and the vassals, each one they spake,\nHow the Red Knight’s valour dauntless would Fame for its comrade take.\n\nAs thus aloud men praised him, in Kingron’s ear spake Kay,\n\nAnd he bade him do Orilus service—(Well he might, whom he thus did pray,\nFor oft had he done such service for Klamid£ in Brandigan.)\n\n880 And for this Kay would give his office to the hand of another man,\n\nHis ill-star had bid him smite her, the prince’s sister fair,\n\nSo hard with his staff, ’twas fitting from their service he should forbear.\n\nNor pardon she found for his trespass, this maiden of royal race ;\n\nBut viands he sent, and Kingron, he set them before their face.\n\n885 Kunnewaar£, the wise and gentle, with her slender hands and white,\n\nWould cut the food for her brother, at his side sat his lady bright.\n\nAnd Jeschut6 of Kamant bare her with courteous and comely mien,\n\nAnd Arthur the King forgat not, for fain he the twain had seen,\n\nAnd he came where they sat together, and ate with right friendly will,\n\n890 And he spake,‘Be good service lacking, then for sure it shall please me ill,\nFor ne’er hath a host received ye, I trow, with a will so good,\n\nAnd a heart so free from falsehood I’ And he spake in kindly mood,\n\n‘ My Lady Kunnewaard, see thou well to this gallant knight,\n\nAnd the blessing of God be on ye, and keep ye till morning light! ’\n\n895 Then Arthur to rest betook him, and a couch for the twain they spread,\n\nAnd till daylight in peace they slumbered, and sorrow afar had fled.\n\nDigitized by v^ooQle",
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