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    "schema_version": "1.1",
    "endpoint": "/api/sources/grail-romances/parzival/10-book-x-orgeluse.json"
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  "work": {
    "slug": "parzival",
    "name": "Parzival"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "grail-romances",
      "name": "Holy Grail Romances",
      "url": "/sources/grail-romances/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 11,
    "slug": "10-book-x-orgeluse",
    "title": "Book X: Orgeluse",
    "of": 17,
    "words": 11641,
    "text": "## Book X: Orgeluse\n\n\nORGELUSE\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogle\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook x. relates how Gawain, after various adventures, fell in with a\nmaiden and a wounded knight, how he succoured the knight and rode to\nLogrois. How he met with Orgeluse and wooed her, and how she repaid\nhim with scorn. How the squire Malcre'ature mocked Sir Gawain, and\nhow the knight Urian stole his charger. How Lischois Giwellius fought\nwith Gawain and was conquered, and of the tribute due to the Master\nBoatman. How Gawain came to Terre de Merveil, and was well entreated\nby the Boatman and his daughter Bene\\\n\nORGELUSE\n\nOW tell we of strange adventures thro' which joy shall be\nwaxen low,\n\nAnd yet pride shall grow the greater, of the twain doth this\nstory show.\n\nNow the year of truce was ended, when the strife must needs be fought\nWhich the Landgrave unto King Arthur at Plimizol had brought.\nAt Schamfanzon he challenged Gawain to meet him at Barbigol,\nYet still unavenged was Kingrisein at the hand of Kingrimursel —\nIn sooth, Vergulacht, he rode there, and thither had come Gawain,\nAnd the whole world was 'ware of their kinship nor might strife be betwixt\nthe twain ;\n\nFor the murder, Count Eckunat did it, and Gawain must they guiltless\nhold,\n\nAt rest did they lay their quarrel and friends were those heroes bold.\n\nThen they parted for both would ride thence, Vergulacht and the knight\nGawain,\n\nTho' both for the Grail were seeking yet apart would they ride, those\ntwain.\n\nAnd many a joust must they ride now, for he who the Grail would see\nSword in hand must he draw anigh it, and swift must his seeking be !\n\nNow all that befell to Gawain, the lot of that blameless knight\nSince he rode forth from fair Schamfanzon, if he oft on his way must\nfight,\n\nYe shall ask of those who there saw him, since naught may I tell ye here,\nYet hearken, and heed the story and the venture that draweth near.\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nOne morning Gawain rode gaily o'er a grassy plain and green,\na° When a shield, in the sun fair shining, with lance-thrust pierced thro' was\n\nAnd a charger stood beside it that bare women's riding-gear,\nAnd the bridle and aye the housing were of costly stuff and dear —\nAnd the charger and shield beside it were bound to a linden tree.\nThen he thought, * Who shall be this woman ? for valiant I ween is she,\n\n25 Since she beareth a shield so knightly — If she thinketh with me to fight,\nHow, then, may I best withstand her ? Were it better to here alight ?\nIf too long she wrestle with me perchance I were overthrown,\nIf hatred or love I shall win here I will fight her on foot alone ;\nYea, e'en an she were Kamilla, who before Laurentium fought —\n\n3° Did she live still to battle with me, as awhile she for honour sought,\nI would face her, nor fear her prowess, if here she my foe would be,\nTho' ne'er with a maid have I foughten and the chance seemeth ill to me ! '\n\nBattle-hewn was the shield and dinted, as Gawain right well espied\nThe nearer he rode unto it, and pierced with a lance-thrust wide.\n35 Such token by joust is painted, little payment his skill should know\n\nWhose hand erst the shield had fashioned an he thought him to paint it\n\nBy the trunk of the mighty linden sat a maid on the grass so green,\nAnd sore did she weep and bewail her, and joyless, I wot, her mien.\nThen around the tree rode Gawain, and lo ! on her knee she bore\n40 A knight, and she wept above him, and grieved with a sorrow sore.\n\nFair greeting Sir Gawain proffered, she thanked him and bowed her low,\nAnd hoarse was her voice thro' weeping and weakened thro' force of woe.\nThen down to the ground sprang Gawain, for the knight he was like tc\nchoke,\n\nSince the blood welled within his body, and unto the maid he spoke,\n45 And he asked if the knight were living, or should now in the death-throe be\nAnd she spake, ' He dieth surely, yet but now alive was he,\nGod hath sent thee unto my succour, now help me with word and deed,\nSuch wounds shalt thou oft have looked on, give counsel in this my need ! '\n\n' Yea, gladly I'll aid thee, Lady, from death shall thy knight be freed,\n50 And healing I well might win him an there were but at hand a reed.\n\nseen,\n\nso !\n\nORGELUSE\n\nThou shalt see him, and hearken to him, nor his life shall be waxen less,\nThe wound is not all too dangerous, but the blood on his heart doth press.'\nThen he stripped from a bough of the linden the bark, and did wind it round,\n(No fool he in art of healing,) and he set it unto the wound,\nAnd he bade the maiden suck it till the blood should toward her flow —\nAnd strength came again and hearing, and the voice of the knight they\n\nAnd he looked on Gawain, and he thanked him, and said he should honoured\n\nIn that from his woe he had freed him, and he asked of him, whence came\n\nRode he hither in search of knighthood ? ' From far Punturtois I came\n\nIn search of such knightly venture as should win for me meed of fame, 6°\n\nYet sorely must I bewail me for the ill that I here have won,\n\nSir Knight, an thy senses fail not, 'twere better this way to shun! 1\n\n4 Such evil I little looked for — 'Twas Lischois Giwellius\n\nWho hath wounded me so sorely, and down from my charger thrust :\n\nFair was the joust and knightly, and he pierced me thro' shield and side, 65\n\nOn her steed this maiden helped me, and hither hath been my guide ! '\n\nThen he prayed Gawain to abide there, but he spake, he the place would see\n\nWhere such evil had chanced unto him, ' If Logrois thus near shall be,\n\nPerchance I shall yet o'ertake him, he shall answer to me, I trow,\n\nFor the deed he hath done, and his reason for vengeance on thee I '11 know ! ' 70\n\nBut the wounded knight spake, ' Not so, for true are the words I say,\n\nAnd no child's play shall be this journey, great perils beset the way.'\n\nWith the band from the maiden's tresses Gawain the wound did bind,\n\nAnd spake o'er it spells of healing, and he bade them their comfort find\n\nIn God, since He cares for all men — With blood was their pathway red, 75\n\nAnd crimson the grass besprinkled as a stag had its life-blood shed;\n\nThus he rode not astray, and in short space did Logrois before him stand —\n\nA fortress so fair and stately, its praise was in every land.\n\nTwas a stately Burg well builded, and it wound the hillside round,\n\nFrom afar as a mighty circlet the fortress the summit crowned. 80\n\nE'en to-day men this honour give it, its wall shall be stormed in vain,\n\nFor it openeth its gates to no foeman, whose hatred soe'er it gain !\n\nknow,\n\nbe\n\nhe?\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd a garden lay green around it, 'twas planted with trees so fair,\nOlive, pomegranate, fig-tree, and the vine which its grapes doth bear,\n85 And gaily they grew and flourished — as Gawain rode that garden bright\nHe saw there what wrought him sorrow, yet filled him with all delight !\n\nA streamlet gushed forth from the hillside, there he saw that which grieved\nhim naught,\n\nA lady so fair to look on that gladly her face he sought.\nThe flower was she of all women, save Kondwiramur alone V\n9° No fairer form nor feature might ever on earth be known.\n\nSo sweet and so bright to look on, so courteous and royal of mien, '\n\nOrgelusd, was she, of Logrois, and men say that in her was seen\n\nThe charm that desire awakeneth, a balm for the eyes of care,\n\nFor no heart but was drawn toward her, and no mouth but would speak her fair !\n\n95 Gawain gave her courteous greeting, and he spake, ' If such grace I gain\nThat thou wiliest I should alight here and awhile at thy side remain,\nIf I see that my presence please thee, then sorrow be far from me,\nAnd joy in its stead dwell with me, no knight e'er might gladder be !\nMay I die if the truth I speak not, no woman e'er pleased me more — '\nioo « it is well, yet methinks I knew that,' then the knight for a space she saw ;\n\nAnd her sweet lips spake thus unto him, ' Now make of thy praise an end,\nFor well might it work thee evil, and I care not that foe or friend,\nWhoever he be that cometh, his judgment on me shall speak,\nFor sure if all lips shall praise me my fame it but waxeth weak !\nio5 If the wise praise me e'en as the foolish, the false as the pure and true,\n\nThen my fame shall be e'en as another's, for the many shall drown the\nfew.\n\nBut my praise do I hold, and but wisdom shall speak that which she doth\nknow —\n\nWho thou mayst be, Sir Knight, I know not, but 'tis time thou thy way\nshouldst go ! '\n\n' Yet o'er thee will I speak my verdict, if thou dwellest anear my heart\nno Then thy dwelling is not within it, for without shalt thou have thy part.\nAnd say thou my love desirest, how hast thou rewarding won ?\nFrom the eyes swiftly shoot the glances, yet a sling, when the work is done, !\n\nDigitized by\n\nORGELUSE\n\nSmiteth gentler than looks which linger on that which doth sorrow wreak,\nThy desire is but empty folly, thou shouldst other service seek !\nIf thine hand for love's sake shall battle, if adventure hath bidden thee \"5\nBy knighthood win love's rewarding, yet thou winnest it not from me.\nNor honour shall be thy portion, but shame shalt thou win alone —\nNow the truth have I spoken unto thee, 'twere best thou shouldst get thee\ngone ! '\n\nThen he quoth, * Truth thou speakest, Lady, since mine eyes thus mine heart\nhave brought\n\nIn danger, for they beheld thee, and thy fetters around me wrought. 120\nBut now, since I be thy captive, I prithee entreat me well,\nWithout thine own will hast thou done this, in silence I owned thy spell :\nThou shalt loose me, or thou shalt bind me, for my will it shall be as thine,\nAnd gladly all woes I 'Id suffer if so I might call thee mine ! '\n\nThen she quoth, 4 Yea ! so take me with thee, if thou countest upon thy gain, 125\nAnd the love that shall be thy guerdon, thou shalt mourn it in shame and\npain.\n\nI would know if a man thou shalt be who bravely for me would fight —\nAnd yet, if thou prize thine honour, thou wilt flee from this strife, Sir Knight !\nAnd should I yet further rede thee, and thou shouldst to my word say\nyea,\n\nThen seek thou elsewhere a lady — For, if thou my love dost pray, I3°\nThen joy and fair love's rewarding fall never unto thy share,\nBut sorrow shall be thy portion if hence I with thee shall fare! '\n\nThen answered Gawain, * Without service, who thinketh true love to win ?\nAn one did so, then here I tell thee, 'twere counted to him for sin,\nFor true love ever asketh service, yea after as aye before ! ' 135\nThen she quoth, * Wilt thou do me service ? shame waiteth for thee in store,\nTho' thy life be a life of conflict — No coward as my knight I '11 own ;\nSee thou yonder path, 'tis no highway, o'er the bridge doth it wend adown\nTo the garden, take thou the pathway, for there shalt thou find my steed —\nMany folk shalt thou see and shalt hearken, but take thou of their words no 140\nheed,\n\nNor stay for their dance or singing, for tambour, or harp, or flute,\nBut go thou to my horse, and loose it, that I go not with thee afoot ! '\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZ1VAL\n\nGawain sprang from off his charger — Yet awhile he bethought him well\nWhere his steed might abide his coming : by the waters that rippling fell\n145 Was no tree unto which to bind it, and he knew not if he this dame\n\nMight pray, would she hold his charger till once more with her own he\ncame.\n\nThen she quoth, * I see well what doth vex thee, thine horse shalt thou leave\nwith me,\n\nI will guard it until thy coming tho' small good shall that be to thee ! '\n\nThen Gawain took his horse's bridle, * Now hold this for me, I pray ; '\n\n150 ' Now indeed art thou dull and foolish/ spake the lady, * where thou dost lay\nThine hand, thinkest thou 77/ hold it ? such deed would beseem me ill ! '\nThen the love-lorn knight spake gently, for fain would he do her will,\n4 Further forward I never hold it ! ' Then she quoth, * I will hold it there,\nAnd do thou my bidding swiftly, bring my steed and with thee I '11 fare ; '\n\n*55 Then he thought this a joyful hearing, and straightway he left her side,\nAnd over the bridge so narrow to the garden gate he hied ;\nThere saw he many a maiden, and knights so brave and young,\nAnd within that goodly garden so gaily they danced and sung.\n\nAnd Gawain he was clad so richly, with helmet and harness fair,\n160 That all must bewail his coming for naught but true folk dwelt there.\nThey cared for that lovely garden, on the greensward they stood or lay,\nOr sat 'neath the tents whose shadow was cool 'gainst the sunlight's ray.\nYet they ceased not to bemoan him, and to grieve for his sorrow sore,\nYea, man alike and maiden, and in this wise their plaint they bore,\nl6S * Alas ! that our lady's cunning will to danger this knight betray !\nAlas ! that he fain will follow, for she rideth an evil way.'\n\nAnd many stepped fair towards him, and their arms around him threw,\nAnd bade him a friendly greeting— to an olive tree he drew,\nFor the steed was fast beneath it, so rich was its gear, I ween,\n170 That the cost of the goodly trappings full thousand marks had been.\n\nAnd an old knight he stood beside it, well-trimmed was his beard and grey,\nAnd upon a staff he leant him, and salt tears he wept alway.\nAnd the tears, they were shed for Gawain, as he to the steed drew near,\nYet his words of kindly greeting fell soft on the hero's ear.\n\nORGELUSE\n\nThen he spake, * Wilt thou hearken counsel ? Lay not on this steed thine 175\nhand,\n\nAnd herein shalt thou show thy wisdom — tho' none here thy will withstand,\nYet, indeed, it were best to leave it ! Accurst be our lady queen,\nFor of many a gallant hero, I wot, she the death hath been !'\nYet Gawain he would do her bidding — ' Then, alas ! for woe draweth near,5\nSpake the knight, and he loosed the halter, * 'Twere best not to linger here, 180\nThe steed shalt thou take, and shalt leave us, and may He Who made\nsalt the sea,\n\nIn the hour of thy need, and thy peril, thy strength and thy counsel be :\n\nAnd see thou that our lady's beauty, it bringeth thee not to shame,\n\nShe is sour in the midst of sweetness, 'mid the sunlight a shower of rain.'\n\n' God grant it,' then quoth Sir Gawain, and straightway he took his leave 185\nOf the old knight and of his comrades and sorely the folk did grieve.\nAnd the horse went a narrow pathway, and it passed thro' the garden gate,\nAnd it crossed o'er the bridge, and he found her who there did his coming\nwait,\n\nThe queen of his heart, and the ruler was she of that land so fair,\n\nYet altho' his heart fled towards her yet grief thro' her deed it bare. 190\n\nHer hand 'neath her chin soft-rounded had loosened the wimple's fold,\nAnd flung it aback on her head-gear, — (if a woman ye thus behold,\nKnow ye that for strife she longeth and mischief she hath in mind) —\nWould ye know how else she had robed her ye naught in my song shall\nfind,\n\nFor how might I tell her raiment and name ye her robes aright, 195\nWhen mine eyes, on her fair face gazing, saw naught but her beauty bright ?\n\nAs Gawain drew near the lady, she hailed him with scornful mien,\n* Now welcome, thou goose ! for of all men most foolish art thou, I ween,\nAll too bent shalt thou be on my service, wert thou wise thou wouldst let\nit be— '\n\nThen he quoth, * Yet shalt thou be gracious who now art so wroth with me, 200\nFor so harshly thou dost chastise me thou in honour must make it good,\nAnd my hand shall be fain to serve thee till thou winnest a milder mood ;\nAsk thou what of me thou wiliest — Shall I lift thee upon thy steed ? '\nBut she quoth, * I will no such service, for methinks all too great such meed\n\nDigitized by\n\nIO\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nFor a hand that is yet unproven — Ask thou for a lesser grace ! '\nOn the flowery sward she turned her, and she looked not on Gawain's face\nBut she laid her hand on the bridle, and she light to the saddle sprung,\nAnd she bade him to ride before her, and she spake with a mocking tongu\n* Now indeed would it be great pity did I stray from so brave a knight,\n210 By God's grace will we keep together, so ride thou within my sight ! '\n\nNow he who my rede would follow his peace shall he hold awhile,\nLest he speak but the word of folly, till he know if she wrought of guile,\nFor as yet the truth ye know not, nor the thing that was in her heart.\nAnd were it the time for vengeance, then I too might bear my part,\n215 And take from this lady payment for the wrong she hath done Gawain ;\nNor of that she shall do hereafter shall aught unavenged remain.\n\nBut Orgelusd, that lovely lady, bare herself in no friendly wise,\n\nFor she rode in the track of Gawain, and so wrathful, I ween, her guise\n\nThat were I in the stead of Gawain little comfort my soul might take\n\n220 That she from my care would free me, and with fair love atonement make.\nThen they rode on an open moorland, and a herb did Sir Gawain see\nWhose root had the power of healing, and down to the ground sprang he,\nAnd dug up the root, and swiftly he sprang on his steed again.\nAnd the lady she looked upon him, and she spake in a mocking vein,\n\n225 * Now in sooth if this my companion can at one-while be leech and knight,\nFor starvation he need not fear him if his salve-box he bear aright ! '\nQuoth Gawain, ' 'Neath a mighty linden a wounded knight I saw,\nMethinks, if again I find him, this herb shall the poison draw\nFrom his wounds, and new strength may give him ! ' She spake, ' Now I we\nwere fain\n\n230 To look on thy skill, for who knoweth what knowledge I thence may gain\n\nNow a squire he rode swift behind them, 'twas the lady's messenger,\nFain was he to do her bidding — As the horse-hoofs they drew anear\nGawain would await his coming, and his steed for a space he held,\nYet he deemed him he saw a monster when first he the. squire beheld,\n235 For Malcre*ature did they call him, and Kondrie was his sister fair,\nAnd e'en such a face as the sister, I ween, did the brother bear.\nFrom his mouth, as the tusks of a wild-boar, stood the teeth out to left an\nright,\n\nUnlike was his face to a man's face, and fearful in all men's sight.\n\nDigitized by\n\nORGELUSE\n\nii\n\nAnd the locks of his hair were shorter than those which from Kondrie hung\nAdown on her mule, stiff as bristles, and sharp, from his head they sprung. 240\nAnd beside the river Ganges, in the land of Tribalibot,\nDwell such folk, if awhile ye hearken ye shall learn how befell their lot.\n\nNow Adam, of all men father, from God did he learn such skill,\nAll beasts, wild and tame, he knew them, and he named them at his will.\nAnd he knew the stars and their pathway, as they circle the silent sky, 245\nAnd the power of the seven planets, how they rule men from heaven high,\nAnd he knew of all roots the virtue, and the ill that was theirs of yore —\nWhen his children were grown to manhood, and daughters and sons they\nbore,\n\nFrom evil desires he warned them ; and his daughters he oft did rede\nOf certain roots to beware them, that wrought ill with the human seed, 250\nAnd would change their face, and their aspect, and dishonoured the race\nshould be ;\n\nAnd he spake, * Then shall we be other than erst God did fashion me,\n\nAnd therefore do ye, my children, give heed to the words I say,\n\nNor be blind to your bliss, lest your children they wander too far astray.'\n\nBut the women, they did as women, in forbidden ways they went, 255\nAnd they wrought out the lust and the evil on which their desire was bent,\nAnd the shape of men was changed, such rewarding their fault must win,\nAnd tho' firm stood the will of Adam yet sorely he mourned their sin —\nNow the fair Queen Sekundilte, her body, her crown, and land,\nFeirefis had won as his guerdon by the power of his knightly hand, 260\nAnd there, in her far-off kingdom (no lie is the tale I tell)\nFull many of this strange people since the days that are gone do dwell,\nAnd their faces are ill to look on, and the birth-marks are strange they bear.\nAnd once of the Grail men told her, and Anfortas' kingdom fair,\nThat on earth was naught like to his riches, and a marvel she thought his 265\nland —\n\n(And the waters within her kingdom bare jewels instead of sand,\nAnd many a golden mountain shall rear its crest on high.)\nAnd the queen she thought, ' How may I win speech of his majesty,\nWho ruleth the Grail ? ' she bethought her, and rich presents she sent the\nking,\n\nOf jewels fair, and beside them, they should to his kingdom bring 270\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nOf this folk, so strange to look on, the twain of whom now I tell,\nKondrie and the squire, her brother — and in this wise the chance befell\n(Much treasure beside she sent him whose cost might of none be told,)\nThat Anfortas, the gentle monarch, who was courteous as he was bold,\n27s For the love he bare Orgeluse* sent this squire unto her grace,\nBy the sin and the lust of women set apart from the human race !\n\nNow this son of the herbs and the planets loud mocked at the gallant\nknight,\n\nWho, courteous, would wait his coming ; no charger he rode of might,\nBut a mare so faint and feeble and halting in every limb,'1\n280 And oft to the ground it stumbled 'neath its rider so harsh and grim.\nI wot well e'en Dame Jeschute' rode a better steed that day\nWhen Parzival's hand avenged her, and her shaming was put away !\n\nThe squire he looked well upon Gawain, and thus in his wrath he spake,\n* If thou be a knight \\ I think me, and my lady with thee wilt take\n285 Thou shalt sorely repent the journey — A fool thou in truth must be,\nAnd such peril shall be thy guerdon as winneth great praise to thee,\nIf so be that thou canst withstand it — Yet, if but a servant thou,\nOf buffets and blows, I think me, full soon wilt thou have enow ! '\n\nThen out quoth Gawain, 'My knighthood such chastisement ne'er might\n\n290 'Tis good but for worthless youngsters who shrink from the touch of steel ;\nBut / hold me free of such insults, and e'en if it so shall be\nThat thou and this lovely lady your mock'ry shall pour on me,\nThen one sure shall taste my vengeance, nor think thou that I wax wroth\nFor ill tho' thou be to look on I hold thee but light in troth ! '\n\n295 With that by the hair he gripped him, and he swung him from off his horse,\nThe squire glared wrathful on him, and his bristles, so sharp and coarse,\nTook vengeance sore on Gawain, his hand did they cut and tear\nTill the blood dripped crimson from it — then loud laughed the lady fair,\n* Now in sooth this* is good to look on, to see ye twain in wrath ! '\n\n3°° So rode the twain, the squire's horse came halting upon their path.\n\nSo came they unto the linden where the wounded knight they found,\nOn his side the herb of healing the hand of Gawain bound ;\n\nfeel,\n\nORGELUSE\n\nQuoth the knight, * Now, how went it with thee since first thou didst find me\nhere ?\n\nThou leadest with thee a lady who plotteth thine ill, I fear !\n'Tis thro' her I so sore am wounded ; at the Perilous Ford, I ween, 3°5\nDid she force such a joust upon me as well-nigh my death had been !\nSo, if thou thy life now lovest, I warn thee to let her be,\nAnd turn thee aside, nor ride with her, but warning to take by me —\nAnd yet may my wounds be healed, if rest for awhile I gain,\nAnd, Sir Knight, thereto canst thou help me ! 5 * That will 1/ quoth knight 310\nGawain.\n\nThen the wounded knight spake further, ' A spital shall stand near by,\nAnd if I but now might reach it for awhile I in peace might lie,\nThou seest my lady's palfrey, it can carry, methinks, the twain\nIf sherideth afore, I behind her, so help me its back to gain.'\n\nFrom the bough of the mighty linden Sir Gawain he loosed the steed, 315\n\nAnd the bridle he took that the palfrey he might to the lady lead —\n\n* Away from me ! ' cried the sick man, ' thou treadest on me I trow ! '\n\nThen he led it apart, and the lady she followed so soft and slow,\n\nFor she knew what her lord did purpose ; ;as the maid to her horse he swung,\n\nUp started the knight, and swiftly on the charger of Gawain sprung ! 32°\n\nAnd, methinks, an ill deed he did there — With his lady he rode away,\n\nAnd I ween that with sin was tainted the prize that he won \"that day !\n\nThen sore did Gawain bemoan him, but the lady laughed loud and clear ;\n(And, were it a jest, he thought him such mirth were unfitting here,)\nAs his charger was taken from him her sweet lips in this wise spake, 325\n' First wert thou a knighty then, in short space, I thee for a leech must take,\nNow art thou become my footman ! yet thou shouldst in no wise despair,\nSuch skill sure should bring thee comfort ! Wouldst thou still in my favours\nshare ? '\n\n' Yea, Lady,' then quoth Sir Gawain, * an I might thy favour hold,\n\nThe whole earth hath nothing fairer were the tale of its riches told ; 330\n\nAnd of crowned heads, and uncrowned, of all who may joyful win\n\nThe highest meed of glory, did they bid me to share therein,\n\nYet still my heart would rede me to count all such gain as naught\n\nIf thy love were but weighed against it, such bliss had thy favour brought !\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n335 If thy love may not be my guerdon then a swift sad death I '11 die,\n\n'Tis thine own this thing that thou scornest when thou dealest thus mockingly.\nTho' a free man born thou shalt hold me thy vassal, if such thy will,\nCall me knight, or slave, or servant, the name it shall please me still !\nYet, I think me, thou doest not rightly — When my service thou thus wilt shame\n\n34o Thou drawest down sin upon thee, and thou shamest thine own fair fame.\nIf my service doth bring me honour thou hast naught withal to scorn,\nAnd such words shall but ill beseem thee tho' they lightly by me be borne ! '\n\nThen back rode the knight, sore wounded, and he quoth, 'Is it thou,\nGawain ?\n\nFor that which erewhile I owed thee here dost thou full payment gain,\n345 Since thine hand in bitter conflict, me, thy foeman, did prisoner make\nAnd unto thine uncle Arthur thou didst me thy captive take,\nAnd four weeks long must I dwell there, and four weeks long I fed\nWith the dogs — I shall ne'er forget it till the days of my life be sped ! '\n\nThen he quoth, * Is it thou, O Urian ? If now thou art wroth with me,\n350 Yet guiltless am I, the king's favour at that time I won for thee,\n\nFor thy folly so far betrayed thee that men spake thee an outcast knight,\nAnd thy shield it was taken from thee, and forfeit thy name and right ;\nSince thou ill didst entreat a maiden, and the peace of the land didst break,\nWith a rope had the king repaid thee, but to him for thy life I spake ! '\n\n355 ' Howe'er that might be, here thou standest, and the proverb thou well mayst\nknow,\n\n\" Who saveth the life of another, that other shall have for foe \"\n\nAnd I do as a wise man doeth — Tis better a child should weep\n\nThan a full-grown man, and bearded, — this charger mine hand shall keep ! '\n\nThen he spurred him amain, and he rode thence, as fast as his steed might\n\n360 And wroth was Gawain at his dealing, and he spake out right angrily ;\n\n' Now it fell out in this wise, Lady, King Arthur his court did hold\nAt Dianasdron, and with him rode many a Breton bold.\nThen as messenger to his kingdom a maiden must take her way,\nAnd this fool, for venture seeking, he crossed her path that day,\n365 And both to the land were strangers— He burnt with unholy fire,\nAnd fierce with the maid he wrestled till he bent her to his desire.\n\nfly,\n\nORGELUSE\n\nAs she cried for help we heard her — then the king \" To arms \" did call,\n\nIn a wood the thing had chanced thus, thither rode we one and all,\n\nAnd I rode of all the foremost, and I saw the sinner's track,\n\nAnd I made him perforce my captive, and to Arthur I brought him back.' 37°\n\n* And the maiden she rode beside us, and sorely did she bemoan\nThat to force she must yield the guerdon that to service was due alone.\n\nOf her maidenhood had he robbed her — Yet but lowly his fame shall stand\nWho vaunteth himself the victor o'er a woman's unarmed hand —\nAnd wrathful, I ween, was King Arthur, and he spake, ' Ye my servants true, 375\nYe shall hold this deed for accursed, and the day of its doing rue.\nAlas ! for the woful dawning and the light that this thing hath seen,\nAlas ! that I here am ruler, for the judgment is mine, I ween ! '\nAnd he spake to the weeping maiden, * Hast thou wisdom, thy cause then\nplead.'\n\nShe spake fearless, e'en as he bade her, and the knights they must list her 380\nrede.\n\n* Then Prince Urian of Punturtois stood before the Breton king,\nAnd against his life and his honour, her plaint did the maiden bring,\n\nAnd she spake so that all might hear her, and with weeping words did pray\nThe king, for the sake of women, her shaming to put away.\nAnd she prayed by the honour of women, and by the Round Table's fame, 385\nAnd the right which as message-bearer she thought of all men to claim,\nIf he sat there that day for judgment he should judge her with judgment\ntrue,\n\nAnd avenge her of this dishonour which her soul must for ever rue.\nAnd she prayed they would do her justice, those knights of the Table Round,\nSince in sooth she had lost a treasure which might never again be found, 390\nHer maidenhood fair and unstained ! Then all men, with one accord,\nSpake him guilty, and for his judgment called loudly upon their lord ! '\n\n* Then an advocate spake for the captive, (Small honour was his I trow.)\nAnd he spake as he might in his favour, yet it went with him ill enow,\n\nFor of life and of honour forfeit did they judge him, the headsman's sword 395\nShould ne'er be his death, but a halter should they twine him of hempen\ncord.\n\nThen loud in his woe he prayed me, since he yielded him to mine hand,\nFor mine honour should sure be stained if wrought were the king's command.\n\nDigitized by\n\ni6\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThen I prayed of the weeping maiden, since she saw how that I in fight\n400 Had avenged upon him her shaming, to pardon the traitor knight.\n\nFor sure 'twas the spell of her beauty that had wrought upon him for sin,\nAnd the love of her form so shapely — \" For aye if a knight doth win\nSore peril for love of a woman, she should aid him, and hear his prayer,\nSo I prithee to cease thine anger, and have pity on his despair.\" '\n\n405 * Then the king and his men I piayed them, by what service I e'er had done,\nThey should loose me from stain of dishonour which I by his death had\nwon,\n\nAnd the knight should live, as I sware him. — Then the lady, his gracious\nqueen,\n\nI prayed by the bond of kinship, since my friend she hath ever been,\n(From my childhood, King Arthur reared me and my love doth toward\n\n410 That she of her kindness help me — as I asked, it was even so,\n\nFor she drew on one side the maiden, and she spake to her soft and kind,\nAnd it was thro' the queen, I wot me, that the knight did his pardon find.\nThus free from his guilt they spake him, yet his sin must he sorely rue,\nFor the life that was granted to him stern penance he needs must do.\n\n4J5 With the hounds of the chase and the house-dogs from one trough he needs\nmust eat\n\nFor the space of four weeks, thus the maiden found avenging as it was meet ! '\n\n' For this cause is he wroth with me, Lady' — * Yet his judgment it went astray,\nIf my love ne'er shall be thy guerdon, in such wise I '11 his deed repay\nThat ere he shall leave my kingdom he shall count it to him for shame !\n420 Since King Arthur avenged not the evil that was wrought on that maid's\nfair fame\n\nIt falleth unto mine office, and judge am I o'er ye twain,\nTho' who ye may be I know not, yet I to this task am fain !\nAnd well shall he be chastised for the wrong that he did the maid,\nNot for thine, for I ween such evil is better by blows repaid.'\n\n425 To the mare now Sir Gawain turned him, and lightly he caught the rein,\nAnd the squire he followed after, and the lady she spake again,\nAnd in Arabic spake she to him, and she gave him to know her will —\nNow hearken unto my story, how Sir Gawain he fared but ill :\n\nthem flow,)\n\nORGELUSE\n\nThen Malcreature, he left them — and Gawain his horse beheld,\n\nToo feeble it was for battle, the squire, as his way he held 430\n\nDown the hill, from the peasant-owner had taken the sorry steed,\n\nAnd Gawain for his charger must have it, tho' but ill it might serve his need.\n\nIn mocking and hatred spake she, ' Wilt still ride upon thy way ?'\nQuoth Gawain, * I will take my journey e'en in such wise as thou shalt say.'\n► She quoth, 'Wilt abide my counsel? It shall reach thee I ween too 435\nlate ! '\n\nQuoth he, 'Yet for that will I serve thee, tho' o'er-long I thy rede shall\nwait I '\n\nQuoth she, ' Then a fool I think thee, for unless thou shalt leave this mind,\nThen sorrow instead of gladness and repentance for joy thou 'It find ! '\nThen he quoth, of her love desirous, ' Yet thy servant I still abide,\n\njoy be my lot or sorrow, be thy love and thy will my guide. 44°\nSince thy love laid its spell upon me in thy bidding my law I see,\nAnd ahorse or afoot I '11 follow, I care not where'er it be ! *\n\nSo stood he beside the lady, and awhile he beheld the mare,\n\nWho to joust with such steed had ridden his gold were o'er-keen to spare !\n\nFor the stirrups of hemp were twisted, and ne'er had this gallant knight 445\n\nSuch saddle, I ween, bestridden, it would serve him but ill for fight.\n\nFor e'en as he looked upon it, he thought, ' If on that I ride,\n\nThe girths sure will break asunder, nor the saddle my weight abide ! '\n\nAnd so weak was the steed and ill-shapen, had one dared on its back to leap\n\nOf a sooth would the back have broken — On foot he the road must keep ! 450\n\nAnd in this guise he took his journey : the horse by the rein he held,\nAnd his spear and his shield he carried ; and the lady his grief beheld,\nAnd she mocked him with ringing laughter, fain was she to work him\nwoe —\n\nThen his shield on the mare he fastened, and she spake, ' In such guise\nwouldst go,\n\nAnd carry thy wares thro' my kingdom ? A strange lot is mine, I ween, 455\nSince footman^ and leech, and merchant in turn hath my comrade been !\nOf the toll hadst thou best beware thee, or else, as thou goest thy way,\nIt may chance they who take the toll here on thy merchandise hands may\nlay!\n\nVOL. II. B\n\nDigitized by\n\ni8\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd tho' sharp, I ween, was her mocking yet her words was he fain to hear,\n460 Nor rued he the bitter speeches that rang sweet to his longing ear.\nAnd as ever his eyes beheld her his sorrow it fled away,\nFor fair was she to his thinking as blossoms in month of May !\nA delight of the eyes, and heart-sorrow, his gain and his loss was she,\nAnd languishing joy did she quicken — Her freeman and captive he !\n\n465 This hath many a master taught me, that Amor, and Cupid too,\nAnd Venus, of both the mother, make all men their deeds to rue ;\nFor with darts and with fire they kindle desire in the longing heart,\nBut such love seemeth me but evil that is lighted by torch or dart.\nAnd the true heart it loveth ever, be its guerdon or joy or woe,\n\n470 And in honour the love is rooted which alone shall abiding know !\n\n' Gainst me have thy darts, O Cupid ! I ween ever missed their mark,\nNor Amor with spear hath smote me, nor fell on my heart a spark\nFrom the torch of thy mother Venus — Tho' love 'neath your rule shall be,\nIf love be my lot, not from passion but from faith shall it bloom for me !\n\n475 And if I with wit and wisdom 'gainst love's spells might a hero aid,\n\nGawain had I gladly aided, nor asked that I be repaid.\n\nAnd yet no shame need he think it if love's fetters him captive hold,\n\nAnd if he of love be vanquished, for her captives are aye the bold.\n\nAnd yet so strong was he ever, and so knightly, to face the foe,\n480 That 'tis pity so brave a hero by a woman should be laid low !\n\nNow well let us gaze upon thee, thou power which true love doth wield,\nSuch joy hast thou taken from us that barren and reft the field,\nAnd thou makest a road of sorrow across it, both long and wide,\nAnd if thy goal had been other than the high heart I would not chide.\n\n485 For folly methinks and lightness love all too old shall be,\nOr shall we to childhood reckon the evil love worketh free ?\nFor better are ways unseemly in youth, than if age forget\nIts wisdom — much ill love worketh, unto which shall the blame be set ?\nFor the mind of youth ever wavers, and changeth as changing winds,\n\n490 And if love shall be thus unsteadfast, little praise may she hope to find.\nNay, better shall be my counsel, for the wise praise true love alone ;\nYea, and maiden and man shall join me, and all who love's power have\n\nknown.\n\nORGELUSE\n\nWhen true love unto true love answereth, undarkened by thought of guile,\nAnd it vexeth them not that love turneth the key on their heart awhile,\nFor they fear not nor think of wavering, then high as the heaven above 495\nO'er the earth, o'er the love that changeth, is such true and steadfast love.\n\nYet, gladly as I would free him, to Frau Minne Gawain must bow,\n\nAnd his joy shall awhile be darkened — Small profit my words, I trow,\n\nAnd the wisdom I fain had taught him, for no man may love withstand,\n\nAnd love alone giveth wisdom, and nerveth with strength the hand ! 5°o\n\nAnd to Gawain she gave this penance, afoot must he wend his way\n\nWhile his lady she rode beside him — To a woodland they came alway,\n\nAnd he led the steed to a tree-trunk, and the shield that awhile it bare\n\nHe hung round his neck as befitting, and lightly bestrode the mare,\n\nAnd scarcely the steed might bear him — Then they came to a builded land, 505\n\nAnd a castle so fair and stately he saw there before him stand,\n\nAnd his heart and his eyes bare witness no fortress was like this hall,\n\nSo knightly and fair the palace, and so countless its turrets tall.\n\nAnd many a maiden looked forth from its casements, he thought to see\n\nFour hundred and more, o'er all others, I ween, four might fairest be. 510\n\nThen the lady and her companion they rode a well-trodden road\n\nTo a water whose waves ran swiftly, and ships sailed the flood so broad.\n\nBy the landing there lay a meadow, where men jousts were wont to ride,\n\nAnd the towers of that stately castle rose fair on the further side.\n\nThen Gawain, that gallant hero, saw a knight who rode swift and near, 515\n\nAs one who for combat lusted, and he spared not or shield or spear.\n\nQuoth the lady, fair Orgelus£, and haughty her tone and proud,\n* In what else thou mayst gainsay me in this be my truth allowed,\nFor other I ne'er have told thee save that shame shall thy portion be,\nNow here, if thou canst, defend thee, since no better is left to thee. 520\nMethinks he who cometh hither shall fell thee beneath his thrust —\nIf thy garments perchance be riven, and thou bitest, ashamed, the dust,\nThen those women above shall mourn thee, who look for some deed of\nfame,\n\nSeest thou how they gaze from the lattice? How, then, if they see thy\nshame ? '\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n525 Then the boatman across the water he came at the lady's will,\n\nFrom the shore to the boat she stepped there, and Gawain it but pleased\nhim ill ;\n\nFor, mocking, fair Orgeluse spake thus to the gallant knight,\n* Thou com'st not with me, I leave thee on this shore as a pledge for fight ! '\nThen sadly his voice rang after, * Say, Lady, wilt leave me so ?\n53° Shall I never again behold thee ? ' Then she spake, * I would have thee know\nIf victory be thy portion thou shalt look on my face again,\nYet but small is the chance I think me.' So sailed she from knight Gawain.\n\nThen up rode Lischois Giwellius, 'twere a lie if I said he flew,\nAnd yet little other did he for the earth scarce his footprints knew.\n535 And for this must I praise the charger, who the greensward with such swift\nfeet\n\nHad trodden — Gawain bethought him how he best might his foeman meet ;\nHe thought, * Should I here await him afoot, or this steed bestride ?\nIf his horse's speed he check not he surely o'er me will ride,\nAnd this fate must o'ertake his charger, to fall o'er my fallen steed ;\n540 But, if he for combat lusteth, afoot on this flowery mead\n\nWill I face him and give him battle, since battle he doth desire,\nTho' never I win her favour who hath brought on me need so dire.'\n\nFight they must, and they fought as heroes, he who came and he who did\nwait,\n\nFor jousting he made him ready, and the lance-point Gawain held straight,\n545 And he rested it on the saddle, (for thus did he counsel take,)\nThen e'en as the joust was ridden the spears did in splinters break,\nAnd the knights, the one as the other, they fell in that goodly fray,\nFor the better charger stumbled and by Gawain its rider lay.\nThen the twain to their feet upspringing their swords from the scabbard drew,\n550 Since alike they were keen for combat, and their shields in pieces flew,\n\nFor each hewed at the shield of the other till a hand'sbreadth alone, I ween,\nThey held, for the pledge of conflict the shield it hath ever been.\n\nFlashed the sword-blades, fire sprang from the helmets, a venture brave I trow\nWas his who should here be victor, tho' stern conflict he first must know.\n555 .Long space did they fight, those heroes, on the flowery meadow wide,\nAnd as smiths, who all day have laboured, as it weareth to eventide\n\nORGELUSE\n\nGrow faint with their toil and weary with the mighty blows they smite,\nSo weary and faint were those heroes who here did for honour fight.\n\nBut for this none methinks shall praise them, unwise do I hold the twain,\n\nNo cause had they here for battle, 'twas fame that they thought to gain ; S^o\n\nAnd strangers unto each other, each other's life they sought,\n\nAnd yet, had they made confession, each owed to the other naught !\n\nNow Gawain was a gallant wrestler, and his foe to the ground would bring\n\nIf in spite of the sword he might grip him, and let but the mighty ring\n\nOf his arms his foeman circle, he forced him where'er he would. 565\n\nNow must he with force defend him, and he fought as a hero good,\n\nAnd his courage waxed ever higher, and the youth in his arms he caught,\n\nAnd he bare him to earth beneath him tho' e'en as a man he fought.\n\nAnd he quoth, * Wilt thou live, thou hero, thou must yield thee unto mine hand ! '\n\nYet Lischois, he was all unready to follow so stern command ; 57°\n\nFor never his pledge had he given, and he deemed it a wondrous thing\n\nThat the hand of a knight should o'erthrow him, and him in such peril bring\n\nThat against his will he must yield him, who had ever the victor been,\n\nFor in sooth full many a combat his foeman o'erthrown had seen.\n\nFull oft he from them had taken what he cared not to give again, 575\n\nNay, rather his life would he forfeit ; and he spake unto knight Gawain,\n\nAnd he said, * Let what would befall him, his pledge to no man he 'd give ; '\n\nNay, death would he rather suffer, since no longer he cared to live !\n\nThen sadly he spake, the vanquished, * Thou hero, is victory thine ?\n\nSo long as God bare me favour such honour was ever mine ; S8©\n\nBut now hath my fame an ending, and thy right hand hath laid me low,\n\nAnd if maiden and man must hearken to the tale of my overthrow\n\nWhose glory once rose to the heaven, then death shall my portion be\n\nEre my kinsmen shall hear the story, and shall sorrow and mourn for me !\n\nYet Gawain still prayed him yield him, but his will and his mind were so 585\n\nThat he prayed God would rather take him, or slay him by this his foe.\n\nThought Gawain, * I am loth to kill him, if he swear but to do my will\n\nUnharmed he may go '—yet the young knight withheld him his promise still.\n\nThen, ere he his hand had given, the hero he bade him rise,\n\nOn the flowery mead they sat them : then Gawain he bethought him wise, 590\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n(For his sorry steed it vexed him) the horse of his vanquished foe\nWith spur and with rein would he test there, if 'twere good for his need or no.\n('Twas armed as beseemed a warhorse, and the covering was fair to see,\nOf velvet and silk was it fashioned, what trapping might better be ?)\n595 Since the venture such prize had brought him, who should hinder him in\nhis need\n\nIf for his own use he took it ? so he vaulted upon the steed ;\n\nAnd he joyed in the free, swift movement, and he cried, 1 Now, how shall\nthis be ?\n\nOf a sooth it is thou, Gringuljet, that false Urian stole from me,\nHe knoweth best how he took it, and shameful I count his deed.\n6oo Now, who thus for battle armed thee, since thou art of a truth my steed ?\nSure 'tis God who hath sent thee to me, and this fair gift shall end my woe.'\nThen he sprang to the ground, and he sought him the token he well might\nknow,\n\nOn its shoulder the Grail-Dove branded — In a joust did Lahelein slay\nIts rider, the knight of Prienlaskors, and the charger he bare away.\n605 Then Orilus was its master, and he gave it to knight Gawain\n\nOn Plimizol's shore — greatly joyed he when the charger he won again.\n\nBlithe was he, and high of courage, who awhile was sad and sore,\n\nYet love unto ruth constrained him, and the service so true he bore\n\nTo the lady who yet would shame him, and his thoughts ever toward her\n\n610 Then up sprang proud Lischois lightly, and his good sword he gripped anew,\nFor it lay where Gawain had cast it when he wrested it from his hand :\nAnd the ladies look down on the heroes, as for combat once more they stand.\n\nThe shields were so hacked and riven that the knights they must cast\nthem by,\n\nAnd, shieldless, to strife betake them, and they bare them right gallantly.\n\n615 And a crowd of fair maidens o'er them from the palace window saw\nThe strife that below was foughten : and fierce anger awoke once more,\nFor too nobly born I wot me was each man that he might brook\nThat his fame should be lightly yielded, and maids on his shaming look.\nAnd helmet and sword were smitten, for shields 'gainst cold death were they,\n\n620 He who saw the heroes strive there had mourned for their toil that day.\n\nflew.\n\nORGELUSE\n\nLischois Giwellius bare him, that fair youth, as knight so brave,\nTrue courage, and deeds undaunted, the counsel his high heart gave.\nAnd many a swift blow dealt he, as quick on Gawain he sprung,\nAnd lightly avoided from him, and his blade round his head he swung.\nBut Gawain stood firm and undaunted, and he thought him, i Now, let me 625\nhold\n\nThee once in mine arms, I '11 repay thee thy dealings, thou hero bold ! '\n\nAnd fiery sparks might ye look on, and the flash of the glittering blade\nWell wielded by hand of hero — Nor one in his station stayed,\nFor they pressed each one on the other, backward, forward, to either side,\nYet this conflict so fierce, I wot me, did ne'er of revenge betide, 63°\nAnd no hatred they bare to each other — Then the arms of Gawain at last\nHe clasped round his gallant foeman, and the knight to the ground he cast.\nAnd I think, an I friendship sware here, I would shrink from such fond\nembrace,\n\nE'en tho' brotherhood it were sealing — Nor with ye would such clasp find\ngrace !\n\nThen Gawain he bade him yield him, yet Lischois, who against his will 635\n\nHad striven when first he felled him, was all unready still.\n\nAnd he quoth, ' Wherefore thus delay thee, 'tis needless, take thou my life,\n\nFor better to die than to yield me — Since I wot well that in this strife\n\nThe fame that was mine aforetime hath vanished beneath thy blow,\n\nOf God must I be accursed, since my glory such goal doth know ! 640\n\nFor the love of fair Orgeluse* have I served her with knightly hand,\n\nAnd many a knight have I felled here, for none might my arm withstand.\n\nNow shalt thou be heir to my glory, for it falleth to thee of right\n\nIf thou, who my fame hath ended, here endeth my life, Sir Knight.'\n\nBut King Lot's son he thought in this wise, ' To this deed have I little mind, 645\n\nMy name, it shall gain small honour if this man here his death shall find,\n\nIf for no sin of his I slay him, who is true and valiant knight —\n\n'Twas her love that spurred him 'gainst me, for whose favour I too would fight ;\n\n'Tis her beauty that doth constrain me, 'tis she that doth work me woe,\n\nThen why not, for the sake of my lady, show mercy to this my foe ? 650\n\nIf perchance for mine own I win her, if mine own such bliss may be,\n\nThen he cannot take her from me since stronger am I than he !\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd if o'er our strife she watcheth, then she must of a surety own\nThat I, who for love would serve her, true service and good have shown ! '\n655 Then out spake the gallant Gawain, ' I were loth thy life to take,\nBut hence will I let thee, scatheless, for fair Orgelusd's sake ! '\n\nWeary were they, small wonder, then the fallen knight arose,\nAnd down on the grassy meadow apart sat those gallant foes.\nThen the master boatman stepped forth from the water unto the land,\n660 And a grey and yearling falcon he carried upon his hand.\n\nThis right was his o'er the meadow, who jousted upon the plain,\n\nThe charger of him who was vanquished he did as his tribute gain.\n\nFrom his hand, who was there the victor, should he take, as a gift, the\n\nAnd bowing, thank him fairly, nor stint of his praise the meed.\n665 And such payment he oft had taken on the flowery meadow green,\n\nNor otherwise had his living ; save at whiles, when such chance had been,\n\nThat a bird in his falcon's clutches had fluttered in grief and pain.\n\nNor plough drave he thro' those furrows, for enough did he deem his gain.\n\nAnd son of a folk so knightly was he born to a knight's estate,\n670 And courteous, I ween, his bearing who there on Gawain did wait.\n\nSo came he unto the hero, and with courteous word and fair\n\nHe prayed of his hand the tribute, and the steed that should be his share.\n\nQuoth Gawain, the gallant hero, 4 No merchant methinks I be\n\nTo pay here or toll or tribute, from such tax do I hold me free ! '\n\n675 Then he spake out, the master boatman, * Sir Knight, since full many a maid\nHath seen thee stand here the victor, by thee be my tribute paid.\nMy right o'er the plain must thou own here, in knightly joust thine hand\nHath won for mine own this charger ; nor thy fame shall the lower stand,\nFor he, whom thine hand o'erthrew here, the world with his praises rung,\n\n680 And with truth, unto this day's dawning, have men of his glory sung ;\nBut now he of God is stricken, and his joy hath an ending found,\nBut thou, in his stead, I think me, with honour and fame art crowned ! '\n\nQuoth Gawain, * He first o'erthrew me, and I but that deed repaid.\nIf tribute for joust be due here, by him be that tribute paid !\n685 Look well on this mare, he won it, thou canst take it if such thy will.\nThe charger that standeth by me, as mine own will I claim it still —\n\nsteed,\n\nORGELUSE\n\nTho' never a steed be thy portion, on that steed I hence will go,\nThou speakest of right, wouldst thou take it, then first I would have thee\nknow\n\n(Yea, thou thyself wilt own it) 'tis unfitting I take my way\nAfoot, and right sore 'twould grieve me if that charger were thine alway ! 690\nFor to-day in the early morning it was mine without doubt or fear,\nAnd childish thou art if thou thinkest thus lightly to win it here !\n'Twas Duke Orilus, the Burgundian, who gave me the steed of old,\nWhich Urian stole this morning, and the tale thou for truth shalt hold.\nAnd the foal of a mule shalt thou win thee ere thy prize be this steed of 695\nmine —\n\nYet a fair gift in sooth will I give thee, for the steed shall the knight be\nthine,\n\nThou accountest him honour-worthy — if he say thee or yea or nay,\nAnd if well or ill it doth please him I abide by my word alway ! '\n\nThen joyful I ween was the boatman, and with smiling lips he spake,\n' Now methinks that a gift so costly it hath ne'er been my lot to take, 700\nAnd I deem myself all unworthy — Yet, Sir Knight, be he mine indeed,\nThen the guerdon is more than I asked for and o'er my deserts my meed.\nFor his praises they rang so clearly that five hundred steeds all told,\nSwift-footed and strong for battle, too low for his price I 'Id hold !\nIf a rich man thou thus wilt make me, then this thing shalt thou do for me, 705\nTo my boat shalt thou captive bring him, that I hold him as pledge from\nthee.'\n\nKing Lot's son he spake in answer, * Yea this will I do, and more,\n\nTo thy boat first, and then from out it will I lead him within thy door,\n\nAnd there will I yield him captive ' — * And there will I welcome thee ! '\n\nSpake the boatman, and low he bowed him, and thanks spake he fair and free. 710\n\nAnd he quoth, * Dear my lord and master, if it please thee to be my guest,\n\nAnd abide in my house till the morning, then softly I '11 bid thee rest.\n\nNor won boatman e'er higher honour, and blest be the eventide\n\nThat seeth a knight so gallant 'neath the shade of my roof-tree bide.'\n\nThen out quoth Gawain, 4 That will I, for in truth I had prayed this grace, 715\n\nFor weary am I with battle, and fain would I rest a space.\n\nShe who to this sorrow led me, her sweetness she maketh sour,\n\nAnd heart's joy shall be dear to purchase, and sorrow doth crown each hour,\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd the guerdon for this her service unlike to herself shall be —\n720 Alas ! I had found a treasure, yet but loss hath it brought to me !\n\nAnd one breast thro' that loss now sinketh that awhile swelled so proud and\nhigh,\n\nWhen joy was from God my portion, for a heart did beneath, it lie.\nNow I think me that heart hath vanished, and where shall I comfort seek ?\nShall I helpless abide that Frau Minne her wrath upon me shall wreak ?\n725 Yea, had she the heart of a woman she would give me my joy again\nWho maketh her sweetness bitter, and turneth my bliss to pain ! '\n\nThen the boatman he heard how he wrestled with sorrow, by love con-\nstrained,\n\nAnd he quoth, 4 So is here the custom, in the forest as on the plain,\nAs far as Klingsor ruleth, be he coward or valiant knight,\n\n730 \" Sad to day, to-morrow joyful, \" So it goeth for peace or fight.\nPerchance the truth thou knowst not ? This land is a wonder-land,\nAnd ever by day and by night-time if good luck shall not aid thine hand\nLittle good may thy manhood do thee ! See thou how the sun sinks low,\nI think me, Sir Knight, it were better that we should to my vessel go ! '\n\n735 Then Lischois he was led by Gawain, and never a word he spake,\nAnd the boatman he followed after and the steed by its rein did take.\n\nSo sailed they across the water, and they came to the further coast,\n\nAnd the boatman he prayed Sir Gawain, ' Be thou in mine house the host.'\n\nAnd so rich was the house and stately, that scarce in King Arthur's land,\n\n740 E'en in Nantes that noble city, did a fairer dwelling stand.\n\nAnd he led Lischois thro' the doorway, and he gave him unto the care\nOf the host and his folk — Then the boatman spake thus to his daughter fair,\n' Fair times and a goodly lodging be the lot of this noble knight\nWho standeth here, go thou with him, for I deem me it shall be right,\n\n745 And tend him as best shall seem thee, nor stint thou in aught thy care,\n\nFor great good hath he brought unto us, and 'tis meet he thy grace should\n\nTo his son's care he gave the charger — Then the maiden her sire's behest\nFulfilled as right well became her, for she led the noble guest\nTo a chamber fair, where the flooring was hid 'neath a carpet green\n750 Of rushes and fresh-plucked blossoms, as the way of the land had been.\n\nshare !\n\nORGELUSE\n\nThere the gentle maid unarmed him — quoth Gawain, ' God show grace to\nthee,\n\nFor had not thy sire thus bade thee too great were thy care for me ! '\nAnd she quoth, ' For my father's bidding I do not this deed, Sir Knight,\nBut rather that this my service may find favour before thy sight.'\n\nThen a squire, the host's son, must bear there soft cushions, a goodly store, 755\nAnd along the wall he laid them, and over against the door.\nAnd a carpet he spread before them that Gawain he might seat him there ;\nAnd as one who knew well his office a cushion so rich he bare,\nWith a covering of crimson sendal, that down on the couch he laid ;\nAnd a seat like unto the other for the host he beside it made. 760\nCame another squire and he carried fresh linen the board to spread,\n(For thus gave the host commandment,) and he bare with the linen bread.\nAnd the hostess she followed after, and she looked well upon Gawain,\nAnd she gave him a heartfelt greeting, and she spake, ' Now such grace we\ngain\n\nFrom thine hand we are rich henceforward as we never have been before, 765\nSir Knight, sure our good luck waketh since such fortune it hither bore ! '\n\nThen when they had brought him water, and the host sat beside his guest,\n\nWith courteous mien Sir Gawain this prayer to his host addrest,\n\n4 Now I pray let this maid eat with me,' ' Sir Knight, ne'er was she allowed\n\nTo sit with knights, or eat with them, lest she wax of their grace too proud. 770\n\nAnd yet so much do we owe thee, loth were I to say thee nay.\n\nSo, daughter, sit thou beside him, and as he shall speak obey ! '\n\nThen she blushed for shame all rosy, yet she did as her father bade,\n\nAnd down on the couch by Gawain sat Bene the gracious maid.\n\n(And two stalwart sons had the boatman beside that maiden sweet) 775\n\nThree game-birds, I ween, that even were slain by the falcon fleet,\n\nAnd all three did they bear unto Gawain, and a broth with herbs beside,\n\nAnd the maiden she courteous served him as she sat by the hero's side ;\n\nFor she carved for him dainty morsels, and laid them on bread so- white\n\nWith her slender hands, and gently she spake to the stranger knight, ' 78<>\n\n* Wilt thou send a bird to my mother ? for else hath she none, I ween.'\n\nThen gladly he told the maiden his will e'en as hers had been\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nIn this thing as in all other — to the hostess the bird they bare,\nAnd they honoured the hand of the hero, nor the boatman his thanks would\nspare.\n\n785 Purslain and lettuce brought they, in vinegar steeped, I ween\n\nHad he sought here his strength to nourish little good might such food have\nbeen ;\n\nAnd if one should o'er-long feed on it then the colour it waxeth pale,\nSuch pallor as truth betrayeth, if the mouth to its speaking fail.\nAnd if with false red it be hidden, it fadeth, and bringeth shame,\n79° But she who is true and steadfast she winneth the higher fame.\n\nIf one by goodwill were nourished, then Gawain, he right well had fed,\nTo her child naught the mother grudgeth, and as free gave the host his\nbread.\n\nThen they bare away the tables, and the hostess she bade him rest,\n\nAnd bedding I ween in plenty they brought for the gallant guest.\n795 And one was of down, and the covering above it of velvet green,\n\nYet the velvet was none of the richest tho' fair had its fashion been.\n\nAnd a cushion must serve for cover, beneath it should Gawain lie ;\n\nNor the silk had with gold been purchased, 'twas won in far Araby.\n\nOf silk, too, the cunning stitching, and the linen was fair, and white\n800 As snow that they laid above it, and a pillow they brought the knight.\n\nAnd a cloak of her own she lent him, for wrapping, that maiden fair,\n\n'Twas new, and of ermine fashioned, and such as a prince might wear.\n\nThen leave the host courteous prayed him ere he laid himself down to sleep,\nAnd men say that alone with Sir Gawain the maiden her watch did keep,\n805 And I think if he more had prayed her she never had said him Nay —\nThen he slept, for he well might slumber, God keep him till dawn of day !",
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