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    "endpoint": "/api/sources/grail-romances/parzival/11-book-xi-schastel-marveil.json"
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  "work": {
    "slug": "parzival",
    "name": "Parzival"
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  "parents": [
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      "slug": "grail-romances",
      "name": "Holy Grail Romances",
      "url": "/sources/grail-romances/"
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  "chapter": {
    "num": 12,
    "slug": "11-book-xi-schastel-marveil",
    "title": "Book XI: Schastel Marveil",
    "of": 17,
    "words": 6891,
    "text": "## Book XI: Schastel Marveil\n\n\nA R N I V E\n\nDigitized by\n\nGoogk\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook xi. tells how Gawain would brave the venture of the Chateau\nMarveil, and how the boatman and his daughter strove to withhold him.\nHow Gawain came to the Castle, and of the Lit Merveil and its perils.\nHow Gawain slew the lion, and ended the enchantments of the castle, and\nhow he was healed of his wounds by the Queen Arnive.\n\nA R N I V E\n\nEARY he closed his eyelids, and he slept in a slumber\ndeep\n\nTill the light of the early morning must waken him from\nhis sleep.\n\nAnd many a window saw he within that chamber wall,\nAnd clear glass was before each window — Thro' a doorway the light did fall,\n'Twas open, without was an orchard, thither gat him the gallant knight 5\nFor the air, and the song-birds' music, and to see what might meet his\nsight.\n\nAnd but little space had he sat there, when the castle he saw again\nAs at eventide he saw it when he fought on the grassy plain.\nAnd he saw from the hall of the palace full many a maiden gaze,\nAnd many were fair to look on ; and he thought, with a great amaze, 10\nThat a wondrous watch they must keep there, since they wearied not\nthro' the night,\n\nAnd little might they have slumbered, for as yet scarce had dawned the light\n\nThen he thought, ' For the sake of these ladies will I lay me to sleep once\nmore.,\n\nThen again to his couch he gat him, and for covering he drew him o'er\nThe mantle the maid had lent him — Did no man his slumber break ? J5\nNay, sorely the host had vexed him, if one should his guest awake.\nThen of true heart bethought the maiden, who soft by her mother lay,\nAnd she roused her from out her slumber, and she took to the guest her way,\nAnd again he slept so sweetly — Then she thought her, that gentle maid,\nThat fain would she do him service, and she sat her beside his bed, 20\nFair was she, and sweet to look on, and but seldom at eventide,\nOr in hour of the early dawning, such venture has sought my side !\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nShort space ere Gawain awakened and beheld how she watched him there,\nAnd he looked and he laughed upon her, 'God reward thee, thou maiden\n\n25 That thou breakest for me thy slumber, on thyself dost thou vengeance take,\nSince nor service nor joust so knightly have I ridden for thy sweet sake ! '\nAnd she answered, that gracious maiden, * On thy service no claim have I,\nBut look thou with favour on me, and thy will do I willingly,\nAnd all who are with my father, yea, mother alike and child,\n\n30 Do hail thee their lord and master, for love of thy dealings mild ! '\n\nThen he quoth, * Is it long since thou earnest ? Had I of thy coming\nknown\n\nFain would I have asked a question, perchance thou the truth hadst shown :\nYestreen and again this morning fair ladies have looked on me\nFrom a mighty tower, of thy goodness now tell me who may they be ? '\n35 But the maiden she shrunk in terror, and she cried, * Ask me not, Sir Knight,\nSince ne'er may I give an answer — I prithee to hear aright,\nIf I knew, yet I might not tell thee, nor do thou my silence chide,\nBut ask thou what else shall please thee and my lips naught from thee shall\nhide,\n\nBut on this thing alone keep silence, and follow thou what I say ! '\n40 But Gawain, he would ever ask her, and ever an answer pray,\n\nWhat ladies were they who sat there, and looked from that stately hall ?\nAnd the maiden she wept full sorely, and aloud in her grief did call.\n\n'Twas yet in the early dawning, and her father he sought her side,\nNor I deem me had he been wrathful if here did such chance betide\n\n45 That Gawain with the maid had striven, and had forced her unto his will,\nAnd the maiden, so fair and gentle, in such wise did she hold her still,\nFor beside the couch was she seated — Then her father he mildly spake,\n' Now weep not so sore, my daughter, for if one a jest doth make\nWhereof thou at first art wrathful, yet I ween ere the time be long,\n\n50 Shall thy sorrow be changed to gladness, and thy wailing to joyful song ! 5\n\nQuoth Gawain, ' Nay, mine host, naught hath chanced here save that which\n\nthine eye may see ;\nThis maiden I fain would question, but naught would she tell to me,\n\nfair,\n\nARNIVE\n\nFor she thinketh, 'tis my undoing, and silence hath she implored :\nBut now if it shall not vex thee let my service here find reward,\nAnd tell me, mine host, if it please thee, how it stands with those ladies there, 55\nFor I know not the place or the country where I looked on such maidens\nfair,\n\nSo many there are, and their raiment showeth clear to my wondering sight ! '\nThen the host wrung his hands for sorrow, and he spake, ' Ask me not, Sir\nKnight,\n\nIn the name of God, ask no question — For wherever thy foot shall speed,\n\nOr whatever thine eyes shall light on, no need shall be like their need ! ' 60\n\n6 Then soothly I '11 mourn for their sorrow,' quoth Gawain, ' but mine host\nnow say\n\nWhy vex thee so sore for my question ? Thine answer why thus delay ? '\n' Sir Knight, for thy manhood mourn I, if thou wilt not thy question spare\nThen strife sure shall be thy portion, and sorrow thine heart shall bear.\nAnd thy sorrow of joy shall rob us, myself and my children three, 65\nWho were born for thy gallant service true service to yield to thee.'\nQuoth Gawain, 4 Yet for this thou shalt tell me, or if thou still say me, Nay,\nAnd I learn not from thee the story yet the truth will I know alway ! '\n\nThen the host he spake out truly, * Sir Knight, I must sorely rue,\n\nThe question thou here dost ask me — Thou goest to strife anew, 70\n\nArm thee well, and a shield I '11 lend thee — In \" Terre Merveil \" thou art,\n\nAnd the \" Lit Merveil \" shall be here — And ne'er hath a knightly heart\n\nWithstood all the many dangers that in Chateau Merveil shall be !\n\nTurn aside, ere thy death o'ertake thee, for life should be dear to thee !\n\nFor wherever thine hand shall have striven, or what ventures soe'er it found 75\n\nAs child's play have been thy perils to those which beset this ground ! '\n\nQuoth Gawain, ( Yet 'twould sorely vex me, if I, but to save me pain,\nRode hence, doing naught, and those ladies had looked for mine aid in vain.\nLong since have I heard of this castle, and since it so near doth stand\nNo man from the task shall bring me ; to the venture I set my hand ! ' 8c\nThen the host he did sore bemoan him, and he spake to his guest so true,\n* Now as naught is all other peril, what perils around thee drew,\nTo the peril of this adventure, to its awe, and its anguish dire,\nAnd naught but the truth am I speaking, for no man ever spake me liar !\nVOL. II. C\n\nPARZIVAL\n\n85 But that gallant knight, Sir Gawain, for naught would he turn aside,\n\nBut he quoth, * Now mine host give counsel how the strife I may best abide,\nIf thy words be the words of wisdom, and God give me the strength thereto,\nThy will and thy rede I '11 follow, and knightly the deeds I '11 do !\nSir Host, of a sooth it were ill done, did I fail here a blow to strike,\n\ngo And coward should I be accounted of foeman and friend alike.'\n\nThen first did the host bemoan him, such sorrow he ne'er might know,\nAnd he quoth to his guest, ' If it may be that Heaven such grace shall show\nThat death be not here thy portion, then this land unto thee shall fall.\nAnd the stake is full many a maiden fast bound in a magic thrall,\n\n95 No man ere this day hath freed them — And with them many noble knights\nShall lie as yet imprisoned ; and if thou with hand of might\nShall loose them, thou winnest glory, and God showeth grace to thee,\nAnd joyful, o'er light and beauty, king and ruler thou sure shalt be !\nAnd maidens from many a country shall honour thee as their king,\nioo Nor think, if thou now dost ride hence, such deed shame on thee should\n\nSince on this field Lischois Giwellius hath yielded him to thine hand,\nAnd left unto thee his honour ; who erstwhile in every land\nHath done gallant deeds of knighthood, of right may I praise his name,\nNo knight showed a higher courage, or won him a fairer fame.\n105 And in no heart the root of virtue it showeth such fair increase\n\nIn blossom and flower of GodVplanting, save in Ither of Gaheviess ! '\n\n' And he who at Nantes slew Prince Ither my ship bare but yesterday,\nFive steeds hath he given unto me, (God keep him in peace alway,)\nPrinces and kings once rode them, but now they afar must fare,\nno And tidings of him who o'erthrew thenfmust they carry to Pelrapar.\nFor thus have they sworn the victor — His shield telleth many a tale\nOf jousting so fair and knightly — He rode hence to seek the Grail ! '\n\nQuoth Gawain, * Say, whence came he hither ? Mine host, since he rode so\nnear,\n\nKnew he naught of the wondrous venture ? Or did he the marvel hear ? '\n115 ' Sir Knight, ne'er a word hath he heard here, I guarded me all too well,\nLest unseemly my deed be reckoned if unasked I the tale should tell.\nAnd hadst thou thyself not asked me thou never from me hadst known\nThe venture that here awaits thee, wrought of terror and pain alone.\n\nbring,\n\nARNIVE\n\nIf thou wilt not forego this peril, and thy life shall the forfeit pay,\n\nThen never a greater sorrow have we known than we know to-day. 120\n\nBut if thou shalt here be victor, and over this land shalt reign,\n\nThen my poverty hath an ending, and my loss shall be turned to gain ;\n\nSuch trust in thy free hand have I, I shall joy without sorrow know\n\nIf thy glory here winneth glory, and thy body be not laid low ! '\n\n' Now arm thee for deadly warfare 1 ' — unarmed was as yet Gawain, 125\n' Now I prithee bring here my harness ! ' and the host to his will was fain.\nAnd from head to foot she armed him, the maiden fair and tall,\nAnd her father he sought the charger — Now a shield hung upon the wall,\nAnd the wood it was tough and well hardened, (else Gawain ne'er this tale\nmight tell,)\n\nAnd the shield and the horse were brought him — and the host he bethought 130\nhim well ;\n\nAnd, as once more he stood before him, he spake, ' List thou well, Sir Knight,\nI will tell thee how thou shalt bear thee, and guard thee thy life in fight : '\n\n' My shield shalt thou carry with thee ! Of war shall it bear no trace\nFor but seldom I strive in battle, nor I count it me as disgrace.\nWhen thou comest, Sir Knight, to the castle, do this, it shall serve thy steed: 135\nAt the doorway a merchant sitteth, buy of him that which thou shalt need,\nThen give him thy steed, he will hold it, nor care thou what thou shalt buy,\nAs a pledge will he hold thy charger, and will give it thee joyfully\nIf unhurt from the Burg thou comest ! ' Quoth Gawain, * Say, shall I not\nride?'\n\n4 Nay, nay, for sore peril neareth, and the maidens their faces hide ! ' 140\n\n* Thou shalt find that fair palace lonely, deserted by great and small,\nAnd no token of living creature shalt thou see in that stately hall.\nAnd may God's grace watch o'er thy footsteps, and His blessing go with\nthine hand\n\nWhen thou comest into the chamber where the \" Lit Merveil \" shall stand.\nAnd the couch, and the rollers beneath it, in Morocco they first were made 14s\nFor the Ruler of all the Faithful ; and were it in the balance weighed\n'Gainst all treasures of crown and kingdom it still would outweigh them all.\nAnd I wot, there shall ill o'ertake thee, and God knoweth what shall befall,\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nBut I pray that the end be joyful ! Yet hearken, Sir Knight, to me,\n150 This sword and this shield that thou boldest, in thine hand must they ever\nbe,\n\nFor surely when thou shalt think thee that the peril hath done its worst,\nThen first mayst thou look for conflict, and then shall the storm-cloud\n\nThen mournful I ween was the maiden, as Gawain to the saddle sprung,\nAnd all they who stood around her they wept and their hands they wrung,\n\n155 Then he quoth to his host, ' God grant me that hereafter I may repay\nThe care and the kindly counsel I have won from thy lips to-day.'\nThen leave did he pray of the maiden, and her sorrow was sore to see,\nHe rode hence, and they whom he left here they mourned for him bitterly.\nAnd now, if ye fain would hearken what unto Gawain befell,\n\n160 The tale of his wondrous venture right gladly to ye I '11 tell.\n\nAnd in this wise I heard the story — As he came to the castle gate,\n\nA merchant with merchandise costly without did his coming wait.\n\nAnd so rich were his wares, and precious, that in sooth I were glad at heart\n\nIf I, in so great a treasure, my portion might bear and part.\n\n165 Then, Sir Gawain, he sprang from his charger, for ne'er had he seen before\nOutspread in the open market such goods as were here in store.\nAnd the booth was of velvet fashioned, four-square, and both wide and high,\nAnd that which lay there for purchase no monarch might lightly buy.\nThe Baruch of Bagdad scarcely had paid that which lay therein ;\n\n170 Nor the Patriarch of Rankulat might think him such prize to win.\n* Yea, and great as shall be the treasure that was found but awhile ago\nIn the land of the Greeks yet their Emperor such riches might hardly\n\nAnd e'en if these twain had helped him the price he had failed to pay\nThat a man must count for the treasure that here before Gawain lay.\n\n175 Then the knight greeted well the merchant as he looked on the wondrous\nstore\n\nOf marvels that lay before him, but he stayed not to turn it o'er,\nBut bade him show clasp and girdle ; then he quoth to the hero bold,\n( For many a year have I sat here, yet no man doth my wares behold ;\n\nburst !\n\nknow !\n\nARNIVE\n\nNone but ladies have looked upon them ! yet if manhood shall nerve thine\nhand\n\nOf all here shalt thou be the master ; they were brought from a distant land, 180\n\nIf here thou shalt be the victor, (for in sooth hast thou come for fight,)\n\nAnd the venture shall well betide thee, I will deal with thee well, Sir Knight !\n\nFor all that my booth containeth is thine if thou win the day !\n\nSo trust thou in God and His mercy, and take to the Burg thy way.\n\nPlippalinot in sooth hath sent thee, and thy coming well praised shall be l85\n\nOf many a gracious maiden if thy prowess shall set her free ! '\n\n4 Now wouldst thou withstand this venture leave here for awhile thy steed,\n\nIf thou trust it unto my keeping, I will give to the charge good heed.'\n\nQuoth Gawain, * Yea, I '11 gladly do so, if unseemly be not the task,\n\nToo greatly I fear thy riches such grace from thine hand to ask, 19°\n\nFor ne'er since I rode upon it such keeper my steed hath known ' —\n\nOut quoth the merchant freely, 4 Sir Knight, all shall be thine own,\n\nMyself, and the wares I guard here, (nor further of them I '11 speak,)\n\nThey are his, who in safety faceth the danger thou here dost seek ! '\n\nAnd so bold was I ween the hero that on foot did he go straightway, *95\n\nUndaunted, to face the peril untold that before him lay.\n\nAnd, as I before have told ye, the Burg it stood high and wide,\n\nAnd its bulwarks so stoutly builded did guard it on either side.\n\nIf for thirty years they stormed it, not a berry or leaf would yield,\n\nHowever the foe might threaten ; in the midst was a grassy field, 200\n\n(Yet the Lechfeld I ween is longer,) many turrets they towered on high,\n\nAnd the story it tells that Gawain, as the palace he did espy,\n\nSaw the roof shine all many-coloured, as peacock's plumes its glow,\n\nAnd so bright it was that its glory was dimmed nor by rain nor snow.\n\nAnd within was it richly furnished, and decked to delight the eye, so5\nAnd the pillars were richly carven, and the windows were arched on high,\nAnd many a fair couch costly had they set there against the wall,\nNor touched they the one to the other, and rich covers lay over all.\nAnd but now had the maidens sat there, but each one had taken thought,\nAnd no one of them all remained there, and of welcome Gawain found 210\n\nnaught.\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nYet their joy came again with his coming, and the day of their bliss was he,\nAnd 'twere well they had looked upon him, none fairer their eyes might see.\nYet none there might dare behold him, tho' to serve them he aye was fain,\nAnd yet in this thing were they guiltless — Thro' the palace strode knight\n\n215 And he looked on this side and the other, and he sought well the chamber\no'er,\n\nIf to left or to right I know not, but he saw there an open door,\nAnd wherever that door might lead him the hero was fain to go,\nIf high fame he might gain for his seeking, or die there a death of woe !\n\nSo stepped he within the chamber, and behold ! the shining floor,\n220 As glass it lay smooth beneath him, and the Lit-Merveil he saw,\nThe wonder-couch ; and beneath it four rollers as crystal clear,\nAnd fashioned of fire-red rubies : as the swift wind afar and near\nDid it speed o'er the shining pavement, no floor might fairer be,\nChrysolite, sardius, jasper, inwrought there the eye might see.\n225 For so had Klingsor willed it, and the thought it was his alone,\nFrom far-off lands his magic had brought to the Burg each stone.\n\nSo smooth 'neath his feet the pavement, scarce might he his footing hold,\nThen fain would he seek the venture, but, so is the marvel told,\nAs ever he stood before it the couch from its station fled,\n230 And swift as the winds of heaven o'er the glittering floor it sped.\n\n(And Gawain he found all too heavy the shield that his hand gripped fast,\nAnd yet did his host give counsel it should ne'er on one side be cast.)\nThought Gawain, 'Now, how may I reach thee, since still thou dost fly\nfrom me ?\n\nMethinks thou shalt have a lesson, it may be I may spring to thee ! '\n235 Then still stood the couch before him, and straight from the ground he leapt\nAnd stood firm in the midst of the marvel, and again o'er the floor it swept,\nAnd hither and thither turning in the four walls its goal it found,\nAnd blow upon blow fell swiftly, till the Burg echoed back the sound.\n\nAnd many a charge did he ride there, with crash, as of thunder-cloud,\n240 Or as trumpeters blow together when their blasts thro' the hall ring loud,\nAnd the one vieth with the other, and each for a fair prize blows.\nLess loud should have been their tumult than the tumult that there arose !\n\nGawain,\n\nARNIVE\n\nAnd waken and watch must Sir Gawain, altho' on a bed he lay.\nHow best might the hero guard him ? The noise he was fain to stay,\nAnd his head with his shield he covered — There he lay, and would wait His 245\nwill\n\nWho hath help in His power, and helpeth all those who entreat Him still,\nAnd shutteth His ear to no manlwho in sorrow for aid doth pray.\nAnd the man who is wise and steadfast, as dawneth his sorrow's day,\nDoth call on the hand of the Highest, that shall ne'er be too short to reach,\nAnd the aid that shall meet their lacking He sendeth to all and each. 250\nAnd so was it now with Gawain — Thro' Whose grace he had gotten fame,\nHe called on His power and His mercy to shelter him here from shame.\n\nThen stilled for a space the clamour — The couch stood within the hall,\n\nAnd an equal space had they measured from its station to either wall.\n\nYet now waxed his peril greater, for five hundred missiles, swung 255\n\nWith craft from hands yet hidden, were against Sir Gawain flung.\n\nAnd they fell on the couch as he lay there ; but the shield it was hard and new,\n\nAnd it sheltered him well, and I think me of the blows did he feel but few.\n\nAnd the stones were as river pebbles, so heavy, and hard, and round,\n\nAnd in many a place on the surface of the shield might their trace be found. 260\n\nAt length was the stone-shower ended, and never before he knew\nSuch sharp and such heavy missiles as those which toward him flew.\nFor now full five hundred cross-bows were bended, their bolts they sped,\nAnd each one was aimed at the hero as he lay on the Wonder-Bed.\n(And he who hath faced such peril in sooth he of darts may tell :) 265\nYet their wrath was soon spent, and silence for awhile on the chamber fell.\nAnd he who would seek for comfort he ne'er on such couch should lie !\nLittle solace or rest may he find there, but peace from his face shall fly !\nAnd youth would wax grey and aged, if such comfort should be its share\nAs fell to the lot of Gawain, when he lay on that couch so fair. 270\nYet nor weariness nor terror had weakened or hand or heart,\nTho' the stones and the bolts of the cross-bow had done on his limbs their\npart,\n\nAnd spite of both shield and corslet, sore bruised and cut was he :\n\nAnd he thought that, this peril ended, the venture should ended be —\n\nBut yet with his hand must he battle, and the prize of the victor win, 275\n\nFor a doorway e'en now flew open, and one trode the hall within ;\n\n4o\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nAnd the man was a mighty peasant, and fearful of face, and grim,\nAnd the hide of the grey sea-otter was his covering on head and limb,\nAnd his hosen were wide, and he carried a club in his strong right hand,\n280 And 'twas thicker I ween than a pitcher that round-bellied doth firmly stand.\n\nSo came he unto Sir Gawain, (and his coming it pleased him ill,)\nYet he thought, 4 He doth bear no harness, mine arms shall withstand him\nstill,'\n\nUpright on the couch he sat him, as nor terror nor pain he knew,\nAnd the peasant, as he would flee him, a space from the bed withdrew,\n\na85 And he cried in a voice so wrathful, ' From me hast thou naught to fear,\nYet such peril I '11 loose upon thee that thy life must thou buy full dear ;\nThe devil himself doth aid thee, else wert thou not still in life,\nBethink thee, for death cometh swiftly, and the ending of all thy strife,\nNo more can the devil shield thee, that I tell thee ere hence I pass ! '\n\n390 Then he gat him once more thro' the doorway, and Gawain gripped his\nsword-hilt fast, .\nAnd the shafts did he smite asunder of the arrows that thro' his shield\nHad passed, and had pierced his armour, nor yet to his hand would yield.\n\nThen a roar, as of mighty thunder, on the ear of Gawain did fall,\nAs when twenty drums were sounding to dance in the castle hall.\n\na95 Then the hero, so firm and dauntless, whose courage ne'er felt the ^mart\nOf the wounds that cowardice pierceth, thought thus in his steadfast heart :\n' What evil shall now befall me ? Must I yet more sorrow know ?\nFor sorrow enow have I seen here, yet here will I face my foe ! '\nHe looked toward the peasant's doorway, and a mighty lion sprang thro',\n\n3°° And its size was e'en that of a warhorse, and straight on Gawain it flew.\nBut Gawain he was loth to fly here, and his shield he held fast before,\nAs best for defence should serve him, and he sprang down upon the floor.\nAnd the lion was hunger-ravening, yet little should find for food,\nTho' raging it sprang on the hero, who bravely its rush withstood.\n\n305 The shield it had near torn from him, with the first grip its talons fierce\nIt drave thro' the wood, such hardness but seldom a beast may pierce.\nYet Gawain did right well defend him, his sword-blade aloft he swung,\nAnd on three feet the beast must hold him, while the fourth from the shield\n\nyet hung.\n\nARNIVE\n\n4i\n\nAnd the blood gushed forth on the pavement, and Gawain he firmer stood,\nAnd the fight raged hither and thither, as the lion, on the hero good, 3*°\nSprang ever with snorting nostrils, and gleaming fangs and white —\nAnd if on such food they had reared it, that its meat was a gallant knight,\n/had cared not to sit beside it ! Nor such custom pleased Gawain well,\nWho for life or for death must fight it — and the strife ever fiercer fell.\n\nSo sorely the beast was wounded, the chamber with blood ran o'er ; 3X5\nFierce sprang the lion upon Gawain, and would bear him unto the floor,\nBut Gawain a sword-thrust dealt him, thro' the heart the swift blade sped\nTill his hand smote full on the breast-bone, and the lion at his feet fell dead.\nAnd now all the deadly peril and the conflict was over-past —\nIn the same hour Gawain bethought him, 'Where now shall my lot be 32°\ncast?\n\nSince to sit in this blood I like not, and I must of the couch beware,\nFor it runneth a race so frantic 'twere foolish to sit me there ! '\n\nBut yet was his head so deafened with the blows that upon him fell,\nAnd many his wounds, and the life-blood did forth from its fountains well,\nAnd his strength waxed faint, and it left him, and he fell on the chamber 32^\nfloor ;\n\nHis head lay on the lion's body, and the shield might he hold no more.\nAnd if wisdom and power were his portion, of the twain was he reft I ween,\nAnd tho' fair was the Burg, yet within it full rough had his handling been.\n\nHis senses forsook him wholly — no such pillow I ween was his\nAs that which on Mount Ribbele Gymele gave to Kahenis ; 33°\nBoth fair and wise was the maiden — and his honour he slept away —\nBut here honour ran swift-footed to Gawain as he prostrate lay.\nFor in sooth ye shall well have hearkened, and shall know how such chance\nbefell,\n\nThat thus lay the hero lifeless, from the first have ye heard it well.\n\nThen in secret one looked upon him, and the chamber with blood was red, 335\nAnd the lion alike and the hero they lay as the twain were dead.\n'Twas a fair and gracious maiden who saw thro' a loop-hole high,\nAnd her face it grew wan, and the colour from her lips and her cheek must\nfly.\n\nDigitized by\n\nPAR2IVAL\n\nAnd youth was so heavy-hearted that old age sore must mourn her tale.\n340 Yet Arnive' was wise, and her wisdom did here o'er the woe prevail,\nAnd still for this deed must I praise her, she drew near to aid Gawain,\nAnd from peril of death she freed him who freedom for her would gain.\n\nThen herself she was fain to behold him, and they gazed thro' the window\nsmall,\n\n. And naught might they tell, those women, of what waited them in the hall.\n345 Was it news of a joyful future ? Or of woe that should last for aye ?\n\nAnd the queen's heart it sore misgave her that the hero had died that day,\n(And the thought brought her grief and sorrow,) since he sought him no\nbetter bed,\n\nBut silent he lay, and rested on the corse of the lion his head.\n\nAnd she spake, * From my heart I mourn thee, if thy manhood so true and\n\n35o Hath won thee no better guerdon, and thy life thou hast failed to save.\nIf death here hath been thy portion for our sake, who shall strangers be,\nAnd thy truth to such fate hath brought thee, then for ever I '11 mourn for\nthee.\n\nAnd thy virtue I '11 praise, tho' the counting of thy years I may never know ! '\nAnd she spake to the weeping women, as they looked on the knight laid low,\n355 ' Ye maids who shall be baptized, and by water have won a place\n\nIn God's kingdom, pray ye unto Him, that He show to this hero grace ! '\n\nThen she sent below two maidens, and she bade them to seek Gawain,\n\nAnd softly draw nigh unto him, nor pass from his side again\n\nTill they brought her full assurance how it went with the gallant knight,\n\n360 If perchance he should yet be living, or had found his death in fight.\n\nSo she gave to the twain commandment — Did they weep those maidens fair ?\nYea, both must weep full sorely for the grief that was here their share,\nWhen they found the hero lying, for his wounds they ran with blood\nTill the shield in blood was swimming— then they bent o'er the hero good,\n\n365 And with gentle hand the helmet one loosened from off his head,\nAnd she saw a light foam gathered upon his lips so red,\nAnd she waited a space and hearkened, if perchance she might hear his\nbreath,\n\nFor but now had she thought him living, yet she deemed it might well be\n\nbrave\n\ndeath.\n\nARNIVE\n\nAnd his over-dress was of sable, and the mystic beasts it bore,\n\nSuch as Ilinot the Breton as his badge with great honour wore. 37°\n\n(And courage and fame were his portion from his youth till his dying day.)\n\nFrom the coat with her ready fingers the sable she tore away,\n\nAnd she held it before his nostrils, for thus might she better know\n\nIf yet he should live, since his breathing would stir the hair to and fro.\n\nAnd the breath was yet there, and straightway she bade her companion 375\nbring\n\nFair water, the gentle maiden did swift on her errand spring.\nThen the maid placed her ring so golden betwixt his teeth closed fast,\n. And deft was her hand in the doing, and between his lips she passed,\nDrop by drop, e'en as he might take it, the water, and little space\nEre he lifted once more his eyelids, and he looked on the maiden's face. 380\nAnd he thanked them, those two sweet children, and offered them service\nmeet —\n\n* Alas ! that ye here should find me, unseemly laid at your feet !\n\nIf ye will on this chance keep silence, for good will I count the deed,\n\nAnd courtesy shall ye honour if ye give to my words good heed ! '\n\nQuoth the maid, * Thou^hast lain, and thou liest, as one who the prize doth 385\nhold,\n\nIn sooth thou art here the victor and in joy shall thy life wax old,\nTo-day is thy day of triumph ! But comfort us now I pray,\nIs it so with thy wounds that, naught fearing, we may joy in thy joy to-day ?'\nThen he quoth, 4 Would ye see me living, then help shall ye bring to me.'\nAnd he prayed of those gracious maidens that a leech to his wounds should 390\nsee,\n\nOr one who was skilled in healing, ' But if yet I must face the strife,\nGo ye hence, give me here my helmet, and gladly I '11 guard my life ! '\nBut they spake, 4 Nay, the strife is over, Sir Knight, send us not away, '\nYet one shall go, and the guerdon of messenger win straightway.\nTo the four queens shall she betake her, and shall say that thou livest still, 395\nAnd a chamber shall they prepare thee, and leechcraft with right goodwill,\nAnd with salves shall thy wounds be tended, and so mild shall their working\nbe\n\nThat thy pain shall be swiftly lessened, and healing be brought to thee ! '\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThen one of the maids sprang swiftly, and she ran with no halting tread,\n400 With the news that the knight was living straightway to the court she sped.\n' In sooth shall he be so living, if ever it be God's will,\nRich in joy may we be henceforward and glad without fear of ill,\nFor naught but good help he needeth,' ' Dieu Merci ! ' then quoth they all.\nThen the old queen wise her maidens did straightway around her call,\n405 And she bade them a bed prepare him, and a carpet she spread before,\nAnd a fire on the hearth burnt brightly, and precious the salves they bore.\nAnd the queen with wisdom mixed them for the healing of cut or bruise.\nIn that hour from among her women four maids did Arnive choose,\nAnd she bade them disarm the hero, and his harness bear soft away,\n410 And with wisdom should they deal with him lest he feel himself shamed\n\n' A silk shall ye bear about ye, in its shadow the knight disarm,\nIf yet he can walk he may do so, if else, bear him in your arms\nTo where I by the bed await him, for his couch will I rightly care,\nIf the strife in such wise hath fallen that no deadly wound he bear,\n415 Then I think me I soon may heal him, but if wounded he be to death\n\nThen cloven our joy — with the hero are we slain tho' we yet draw breath ! '\n\nAnd all this was done as she bade them, disarmed was the knight Gawain,\nThen they led him where help they gave him who well knew to ease his\npain.\n\nAnd of wounds did they find full fifty, or perchance they were even more,\n420 But the darts had not pierced too deeply since ever his shield he bore.\nThen the queen in her wisdom took her warm wine, and a sendal blue,\nAnd Dictam, the herb of healing, and she wiped with her hand so true '\nThe blood from his wounds, and she closed them, and the flow of the life-\n\nAnd wherever his helm was indented the stones on his head had made\n425 Sore bruises, yet they must vanish 'fore the salves and their healing power,\nAnd the master-skill of Arnive' who tended him in that hour !\n\nAnd she quoth, * Ease I well may give thee, whiles Kondrie doth come to me,\nAnd all help that may be in leechcraft of her friendship she telleth free.\nSince Anfortas so sore doth suffer, and they seek aid from far and near,\n43° This salve shall from death have kept him, from Monsalvasch 'twas brought\n\nalway.\n\nblood stayed.\n\nme here.'\n\nARNIVE\n\nWhen Gawain heard she spake of Monsalvasch, then in sooth was he glad\nat heart,\n\nFor he deemed it was near — Then this hero, who ne'er had in falsehood part,\nSpake thus to the queen, 4 Now, Lady, my senses that far were fled,\nHast thou won back again, and mine anguish I ween hast thou minished,\nWhat of strength shall be mine, or of wisdom, I owe to thine hand alone, 435\nThy servant am I ! ' But the queen spake, ' Sir Knight, thou such faith hast\nshown\n\nThat we all must rejoice in thy welfare, and strive for it faithfully.\nBut follow my rede, nor speak much, a root will I give to thee\nThat shall win thee refreshing slumber, thou shalt care not for drink or meat\nTill the night, then such food I '11 bring thee thou shalt need not ere morn 44o\nto eat.'\n\nThen a root 'twixt his lips she laid there, and straightway he fell asleep,\nAnd throughout the day he slumbered, and in coverings they happed him\ndeep.\n\nRich in honour and poor in shaming, soft and warm, there in peace he lay,\nYet he sneezed, and at whiles he shivered, for the salve wrought on him\nalway.\n\nAnd a company of fair women passed within and without the door, 445\nAnd fair was the light of their faces, and stately the mien they bore.\nAnd she bade them, the Queen Arnive*, that silence they all should keep,\nNone should call, and no maiden answer, so long as the knight should sleep.\nAnd she bade them fast close the palace, nor burger, nor squire, nor knight,\nShould hear what had there befallen till the dawn of the morning light. 45°\n\nBut new sorrow drew nigh to the women — The knight slept till even grey,\nThen Arnive' the queen in her wisdom drew the root from his lips away.\nAnd straightway he woke, and he thirsted, and they brought him of drink\nand meat,\n\nAnd he raised himself and, rejoicing, as they brought him so would he eat :\n\nAnd many a maid stood before him, such fair service he ne'er had known, 455\n\nSo courteous their mien and bearing — then he looked at them one by one\n\nAnd he gazed at each and the other, yet still his desire was set\n\nOn the lady Orgeluse, for ne'er saw he woman yet,\n\nIn all the days of his lifetime, who so near to his heart did lie ;\n\nTho' many his prayer had hearkened, and some did their love deny ! 460\n\nDigitized by\n\nPARZIVAL\n\nThen out spake the gallant hero to Arnive, his leech so wise,\n\n' Lady, 'twill ill beseem me, nor deal I in courteous guise,\n\nIf these ladies stand here before me, I would they might seated be,\n\nOr if such be thy will it were better shouldst thou bid them to eat with me ! '\n\n465 * Nay, Sir Knight, none I ween may sit here save I, the queen, alone,\n\nAnd shamed would they surely hold them were such service not gladly done,\nFor our joy shalt thou be ; yet I think me that if this be thy will indeed,\nWhate'er shall be thy commandment, we will give to thy words good heed.'\nBut nobly born were those ladies, and their courtesy did they show,\n\n470 For all with one voice they prayed him he would e'en let the thing be so,\nAnd while he should eat they would stand there ; so waited they on the guest\nAnd passed hence when the meal was ended and Gawain was laid to rest.",
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