{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_47298/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_47298","id":"gutenberg_47298","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47298","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: German Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Perceval (Legendary character) -- Romances"],"text":"PARZIVAL\n\nVOL. II\n\n\n PARZIVAL\n\n A KNIGHTLY EPIC\n\n BY\n\n WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH\n\n TRANSLATED BY\n\n JESSIE L. WESTON\n\n VOL. II\n\n ANASTATIC REPRINT OF THE EDITION LONDON 1894.\n\n NEW YORK\n\n G. E. STECHERT & CO.,\n\n 1912.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n\n X. ORGELUSE 1\n\n XI. ARNIVE 29\n\n XII. EIDEGAST 47\n\n XIII. KLINGSOR 71\n\n XIV. GRAMOFLANZ 101\n\n XV. FEIREFIS 133\n\n XVI. LOHENGRIN 163\n\n APPENDICES 189\n\n NOTES 201\n\n\n\n\nBOOK X\n\nORGELUSE\n\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 Orgelus\u00e9 and wooed her, and how she repaid\nhim with scorn. How the squire Malcr\u00e9ature mocked Sir Gawain, and how\nthe knight Urian stole his charger. How Lischois Giwellius fought with\nGawain and was conquered, and of the tribute due to the Master Boatman.\nHow Gawain came to Terre de Merveil, and was well entreated by the\nBoatman and his daughter Ben\u00e9.\n\n BOOK X\n\n ORGELUSE\n\n Now tell we of strange adventures thro' which joy shall be\n waxen low,\n And yet pride shall grow the greater, of the twain doth this\n story show.\n\n Now the year of truce was ended, when the strife must needs\n be fought\n Which the Landgrave unto King Arthur at Plimiz\u00f6l had brought.\n At Schamfanzon he challenged Gawain to meet him at Barbig\u00f6l, 5\n Yet still unavenged was Kingrisein at the hand of\n Kingrimursel--\n In sooth, Vergulacht, he rode there, and thither had come\n Gawain,\n And the whole world was 'ware of their kinship nor might\n strife be betwixt the twain;\n For the murder, Count Eckun\u00e2t did it, and Gawain must they\n guiltless hold,\n At rest did they lay their quarrel and friends were those\n heroes bold. 10\n\n Then they parted for both would ride thence, Vergulacht and\n the knight Gawain,\n Tho' both for the Grail were seeking yet apart would they\n ride, those twain.\n And many a joust must they ride now, for he who the Grail\n would see\n Sword in hand must he draw anigh it, and swift must his\n seeking be!\n\n Now all that befell to Gawain, the lot of that blameless\n knight 15\n Since he rode forth from fair Schamfanzon, if he oft on his\n way must fight,\n Ye shall ask of those who there saw him, since naught may I\n tell ye here,\n Yet hearken, and heed the story and the venture that draweth\n near.\n One morning Gawain rode gaily o'er a grassy plain and green,\n When a shield, in the sun fair shining, with lance-thrust\n pierced thro' was seen, 20\n And a charger stood beside it that bare women's riding-gear,\n And the bridle and aye the housing were of costly stuff and\n dear--\n And the charger and shield beside it were bound to a linden\n tree.\n Then he thought, 'Who shall be this woman? for valiant I ween\n is she,\n Since she beareth a shield so knightly--If she thinketh with\n me to fight, 25\n How, then, may I best withstand her? Were it better to here\n alight?\n If too long she wrestle with me perchance I were overthrown,\n If hatred or love I shall win here I will fight her on foot\n alone;\n Yea, e'en an she were Kamilla, who before Laurentium fought--\n Did she live still to battle with me, as awhile she for\n honour sought, 30\n I would face her, nor fear her prowess, if here she my foe\n would be,\n Tho' ne'er with a maid have I foughten and the chance seemeth\n ill to me!'\n\n Battle-hewn was the shield and dinted, as Gawain right well\n espied\n The nearer he rode unto it, and pierced with a lance-thrust\n wide.\n Such token by joust is painted, little payment his skill\n should know 35\n Whose hand erst the shield had fashioned an he thought him to\n paint it so!\n By the trunk of the mighty linden sat a maid on the grass so\n green,\n And sore did she weep and bewail her, and joyless, I wot, her\n mien.\n Then around the tree rode Gawain, and lo! on her knee she\n bore\n A knight, and she wept above him, and grieved with a sorrow\n sore. 40\n\n Fair greeting Sir Gawain proffered, she thanked him and bowed\n her low,\n And hoarse was her voice thro' weeping and weakened thro'\n force of woe.\n Then down to the ground sprang Gawain, for the knight he was\n like to choke,\n Since the blood welled within his body, and unto the maid he\n spoke,\n And he asked if the knight were living, or should now in the\n death-throe be? 45\n And she spake, 'He dieth surely, yet but now alive was he,\n God hath sent thee unto my succour, now help me with word and\n deed,\n Such wounds shalt thou oft have looked on, give counsel in\n this my need!'\n\n 'Yea, gladly I'll aid thee, Lady, from death shall thy knight\n be freed,\n And healing I well might win him an there were but at hand a\n reed. 50\n Thou shalt see him, and hearken to him, nor his life shall be\n waxen less,\n The wound is not all too dangerous, but the blood on his\n heart doth press.'\n Then he stripped from a bough of the linden the bark, and did\n wind it round,\n (No fool he in art of healing,) and he set it unto the wound,\n And he bade the maiden suck it till the blood should toward\n her flow-- 55\n And strength came again and hearing, and the voice of the\n knight they know,\n And he looked on Gawain, and he thanked him, and said he\n should honoured be\n In that from his woe he had freed him, and he asked of him,\n whence came he?\n Rode he hither in search of knighthood? 'From far Punturtois\n I came\n In search of such knightly venture as should win for me meed\n of fame, 60\n Yet sorely must I bewail me for the ill that I here have won,\n Sir Knight, an thy senses fail not, 'twere better this way to\n shun!'\n\n 'Such evil I little looked for--'Twas Lischois Giwellius\n Who hath wounded me so sorely, and down from my charger\n thrust:\n Fair was the joust and knightly, and he pierced me thro'\n shield and side, 65\n On her steed this maiden helped me, and hither hath been my\n guide!'\n Then he prayed Gawain to abide there, but he spake, he the\n place would see\n Where such evil had chanced unto him, 'If Logrois thus near\n shall be,\n Perchance I shall yet o'ertake him, he shall answer to me, I\n trow,\n For the deed he hath done, and his reason for vengeance on\n thee I'll know!' 70\n But the wounded knight spake, 'Not so, for true are the words\n I say,\n And no child's play shall be this journey, great perils beset\n the way.'\n\n With the band from the maiden's tresses Gawain the wound did\n bind,\n And spake o'er it spells of healing, and he bade them their\n comfort find\n In God, since He cares for all men--With blood was their\n pathway red, 75\n And crimson the grass besprinkled as a stag had its\n life-blood shed;\n Thus he rode not astray, and in short space did Logrois\n before him stand--\n A fortress so fair and stately, its praise was in every land.\n\n 'Twas a stately Burg well builded, and it wound the hillside\n round,\n From afar as a mighty circlet the fortress the summit\n crowned. 80\n E'en to-day men this honour give it, its wall shall be\n stormed in vain,\n For it openeth its gates to no foeman, whose hatred soe'er it\n gain!\n And a garden lay green around it, 'twas planted with trees so\n fair,\n Olive, pomegranate, fig-tree, and the vine which its grapes\n doth bear,\n And gaily they grew and flourished--as Gawain rode that\n garden bright 85\n He saw there what wrought him sorrow, yet filled him with all\n delight!\n\n A streamlet gushed forth from the hillside, there he saw that\n which grieved him naught,\n A lady so fair to look on that gladly her face he sought.\n The flower was she of all women, save Kondwiramur alone\n No fairer form nor feature might ever on earth be known. 90\n So sweet and so bright to look on, so courteous and royal of\n mien,\n Orgelus\u00e9, was she, of Logrois, and men say that in her was\n seen\n The charm that desire awakeneth, a balm for the eyes of care,\n For no heart but was drawn toward her, and no mouth but would\n speak her fair!\n\n Gawain gave her courteous greeting, and he spake, 'If such\n grace I gain 95\n That thou willest I should alight here and awhile at thy side\n remain,\n If I see that my presence please thee, then sorrow be far\n from me,\n And joy in its stead dwell with me, no knight e'er might\n gladder be!\n May I die if the truth I speak not, no woman e'er pleased me\n more--'\n 'It is well, yet methinks I knew that,' then the knight for a\n space she saw; 100\n\n And her sweet lips spake thus unto him, 'Now make of thy\n praise an end,\n For well might it work thee evil, and I care not that foe or\n friend,\n Whoever he be that cometh, his judgment on me shall speak,\n For sure if all lips shall praise me my fame it but waxeth\n weak!\n If the wise praise me e'en as the foolish, the false as the\n pure and true, 105\n Then my fame shall be e'en as another's, for the many shall\n drown the few.\n But my praise do I hold, and but wisdom shall speak that\n which she doth know--\n Who thou mayst be, Sir Knight, I know not, but 'tis time thou\n thy way shouldst go!'\n\n 'Yet o'er thee will I speak my verdict, if thou dwellest\n anear my heart\n Then thy dwelling is not _within_ it, for _without_ shalt\n thou have thy part. 110\n And say thou my love desirest, how hast thou rewarding won?\n From the eyes swiftly shoot the glances, yet a sling, when\n the work is done,\n Smiteth gentler than looks which linger on that which doth\n sorrow wreak,\n Thy desire is but empty folly, thou shouldst other service\n seek!\n If thine hand for love's sake shall battle, if adventure hath\n bidden thee 115\n By knighthood win love's rewarding, yet thou winnest it not\n from _me_.\n Nor honour shall be thy portion, but shame shalt thou win\n alone--\n Now the truth have I spoken unto thee, 'twere best thou\n shouldst get thee gone!'\n\n Then he quoth, 'Truth thou speakest, Lady, since mine eyes\n thus mine heart have brought\n In danger, for _they_ beheld thee, and thy fetters around me\n wrought. 120\n But now, since I be thy captive, I prithee entreat me well,\n Without thine own will hast thou done this, in silence I\n owned thy spell:\n Thou shalt loose me, or thou shalt bind me, for my will it\n shall be as thine,\n And gladly all woes I'ld suffer if so I might call thee\n mine!'\n\n Then she quoth, 'Yea! so take me with thee, if thou countest\n upon thy gain, 125\n And the love that shall be thy guerdon, thou shalt mourn it\n in shame and pain.\n\n I would know if a man thou shalt be who bravely for me would\n fight--\n And yet, if thou prize thine honour, thou wilt flee from this\n strife, Sir Knight!\n And should I yet further rede thee, and thou shouldst to my\n word say yea,\n Then seek thou elsewhere a lady--For, if thou my love dost\n pray, 130\n Then joy and fair love's rewarding fall never unto thy share,\n But sorrow shall be thy portion if hence I with thee shall\n fare!'\n\n Then answered Gawain, 'Without service, who thinketh true\n love to win?\n An one did so, then here I tell thee, 'twere counted to him\n for sin,\n For true love ever asketh service, yea after as aye before!' 135\n Then she quoth, 'Wilt thou do me service? shame waiteth for\n thee in store,\n Tho' thy life be a life of conflict--No coward as my knight\n I'll own;\n See thou yonder path, 'tis no highway, o'er the bridge doth\n it wend adown\n To the garden, take thou the pathway, for there shalt thou\n find my steed--\n Many folk shalt thou see and shalt hearken, but take thou of\n their words no heed, 140\n Nor stay for their dance or singing, for tambour, or harp, or\n flute,\n But go thou to my horse, and loose it, that I go not with\n thee afoot!'\n Gawain sprang from off his charger--Yet awhile he bethought\n him well\n Where his steed might abide his coming: by the waters that\n rippling fell\n Was no tree unto which to bind it, and he knew not if he this\n dame 145\n Might pray, would she hold his charger till once more with\n her own he came.\n Then she quoth, 'I see well what doth vex thee, thine horse\n shalt thou leave with me,\n I will guard it until thy coming tho' small good shall that\n be to thee!'\n\n Then Gawain took his horse's bridle, 'Now hold this for me, I\n pray;'\n 'Now indeed art thou dull and foolish,' spake the lady,\n 'where _thou_ dost lay 150\n Thine hand, thinkest thou _I'll_ hold it? such deed would\n beseem me ill!'\n Then the love-lorn knight spake gently, for fain would he do\n her will,\n 'Further forward I never hold it!' Then she quoth, '_I_ will\n hold it there,\n And do thou my bidding swiftly, bring my steed and with thee\n I'll fare;'\n Then he thought this a joyful hearing, and straightway he\n left her side, 155\n And over the bridge so narrow to the garden gate he hied;\n There saw he many a maiden, and knights so brave and young,\n And within that goodly garden so gaily they danced and sung.\n\n And Gawain he was clad so richly, with helmet and harness\n fair,\n That all must bewail his coming for naught but true folk\n dwelt there. 160\n They cared for that lovely garden, on the greensward they\n stood or lay,\n Or sat 'neath the tents whose shadow was cool 'gainst the\n sunlight's ray.\n Yet they ceased not to bemoan him, and to grieve for his\n sorrow sore,\n Yea, man alike and maiden, and in this wise their plaint they\n bore,\n 'Alas! that our lady's cunning will to danger this knight\n betray! 165\n Alas! that he fain will follow, for she rideth an evil way.'\n\n And many stepped fair towards him, and their arms around him\n threw,\n And bade him a friendly greeting--to an olive tree he drew,\n For the steed was fast beneath it, so rich was its gear, I\n ween,\n That the cost of the goodly trappings full thousand marks had\n been. 170\n And an old knight he stood beside it, well-trimmed was his\n beard and grey,\n And upon a staff he leant him, and salt tears he wept alway.\n And the tears, they were shed for Gawain, as he to the steed\n drew near,\n Yet his words of kindly greeting fell soft on the hero's ear.\n Then he spake, 'Wilt thou hearken counsel? Lay not on this\n steed thine hand, 175\n And herein shalt thou show thy wisdom--tho' none here thy\n will withstand,\n Yet, indeed, it were best to leave it! Accurst be our lady\n queen,\n For of many a gallant hero, I wot, she the death hath been!'\n Yet Gawain he would do her bidding--'Then, alas! for woe\n draweth near,'\n Spake the knight, and he loosed the halter, ''Twere best not\n to linger here, 180\n The steed shalt thou take, and shalt leave us, and may He Who\n made salt the sea,\n In the hour of thy need, and thy peril, thy strength and thy\n counsel be:\n And see thou that our lady's beauty, it bringeth thee not to\n shame,\n She is sour in the midst of sweetness, 'mid the sunlight a\n shower of rain.'\n\n 'God grant it,' then quoth Sir Gawain, and straightway he\n took his leave 185\n Of the old knight and of his comrades and sorely the folk did\n grieve.\n And the horse went a narrow pathway, and it passed thro' the\n garden gate,\n And it crossed o'er the bridge, and he found her who there\n did his coming wait,\n The queen of his heart, and the ruler was she of that land so\n fair,\n Yet altho' his heart fled towards her yet grief thro' her\n deed it bare. 190\n\n Her hand 'neath her chin soft-rounded had loosened the\n wimple's fold,\n And flung it aback on her head-gear,--(if a woman ye thus\n behold,\n Know ye that for strife she longeth and mischief she hath in\n mind)--\n Would ye know how else she had robed her ye naught in my song\n shall find,\n For how might I tell her raiment and name ye her robes\n aright, 195\n When mine eyes, on her fair face gazing, saw naught but her\n beauty bright?\n\n As Gawain drew near the lady, she hailed him with scornful\n mien,\n 'Now welcome, thou goose! for of all men most foolish art\n thou, I ween,\n All too bent shalt thou be on my service, wert thou wise thou\n wouldst let it be--'\n Then he quoth, 'Yet shalt thou be gracious who now art so\n wroth with me, 200\n For so harshly thou dost chastise me thou in honour must make\n it good,\n And my hand shall be fain to serve thee till thou winnest a\n milder mood;\n Ask thou what of me thou willest--Shall I lift thee upon thy\n steed?'\n But she quoth, 'I will no such service, for methinks all too\n great such meed\n For a hand that is yet unproven--Ask thou for a lesser\n grace!' 205\n On the flowery sward she turned her, and she looked not on\n Gawain's face,\n But she laid her hand on the bridle, and she light to the\n saddle sprung,\n And she bade him to ride before her, and she spake with a\n mocking tongue,\n 'Now indeed would it be great pity did I stray from so brave\n a knight,\n By God's grace will we keep together, so ride thou within my\n sight!' 210\n\n Now he who my rede would follow his peace shall he hold\n awhile,\n Lest he speak but the word of folly, till he know if she\n wrought of guile,\n For as yet the truth ye know not, nor the thing that was in\n her heart.\n And were it the time for vengeance, then I too might bear my\n part,\n And take from this lady payment for the wrong she hath done\n Gawain; 215\n Nor of that she shall do hereafter shall aught unavenged\n remain.\n\n But Orgelus\u00e9, that lovely lady, bare herself in no friendly\n wise,\n For she rode in the track of Gawain, and so wrathful, I ween,\n her guise\n That were I in the stead of Gawain little comfort my soul\n might take\n That she from my care would free me, and with fair love\n atonement make. 220\n Then they rode on an open moorland, and a herb did Sir Gawain\n see\n Whose root had the power of healing, and down to the ground\n sprang he,\n And dug up the root, and swiftly he sprang on his steed\n again.\n And the lady she looked upon him, and she spake in a mocking\n vein,\n 'Now in sooth if this my companion can at one-while be leech\n and knight, 225\n For starvation he need not fear him if his salve-box he bear\n aright!'\n Quoth Gawain, ''Neath a mighty linden a wounded knight I saw,\n Methinks, if again I find him, this herb shall the poison\n draw\n From his wounds, and new strength may give him!' She spake,\n 'Now I well were fain\n To look on thy skill, for who knoweth what knowledge I thence\n may gain!' 230\n\n Now a squire he rode swift behind them, 'twas the lady's\n messenger,\n Fain was he to do her bidding--As the horse-hoofs they drew\n anear\n Gawain would await his coming, and his steed for a space he\n held,\n Yet he deemed him he saw a monster when first he the squire\n beheld,\n For Malcr\u00e9ature did they call him, and Kondrie was his sister\n fair, 235\n And e'en such a face as the sister, I ween, did the brother\n bear.\n From his mouth, as the tusks of a wild-boar, stood the teeth\n out to left and right,\n Unlike was his face to a man's face, and fearful in all men's\n sight.\n And the locks of his hair were shorter than those which from\n Kondrie hung\n Adown on her mule, stiff as bristles, and sharp, from his\n head they sprung. 240\n And beside the river Ganges, in the land of Tribalibot,\n Dwell such folk, if awhile ye hearken ye shall learn how\n befell their lot.\n\n Now Adam, of all men father, from God did he learn such\n skill,\n All beasts, wild and tame, he knew them, and he nam\u00e8d them at\n his will.\n And he knew the stars and their pathway, as they circle the\n silent sky, 245\n And the power of the seven planets, how they rule men from\n heaven high,\n And he knew of all roots the virtue, and the ill that was\n theirs of yore--\n When his children were grown to manhood, and daughters and\n sons they bore,\n From evil desires he warned them; and his daughters he oft\n did rede\n Of certain roots to beware them, that wrought ill with the\n human seed, 250\n And would change their face, and their aspect, and\n dishonoured the race should be;\n And he spake, 'Then shall we be other than erst God did\n fashion me,\n And therefore do ye, my children, give heed to the words I\n say,\n Nor be blind to your bliss, lest _your_ children they wander\n too far astray.'\n\n But the women, they did as women, in forbidden ways they\n went, 255\n And they wrought out the lust and the evil on which their\n desire was bent,\n And the shape of men was chang\u00e8d, such rewarding their fault\n must win,\n And tho' firm stood the will of Adam yet sorely he mourned\n their sin--\n Now the fair Queen Sekundill\u00e9, her body, her crown, and land,\n Feirefis had won as his guerdon by the power of his knightly\n hand, 260\n And there, in her far-off kingdom (no lie is the tale I tell)\n Full many of this strange people since the days that are gone\n do dwell,\n And their faces are ill to look on, and the birth-marks are\n strange they bear.\n And once of the Grail men told her, and Anfortas' kingdom\n fair,\n That on earth was naught like to his riches, and a marvel she\n thought his land-- 265\n (And the waters within her kingdom bare jewels instead of\n sand,\n And many a golden mountain shall rear its crest on high.)\n And the queen she thought, 'How may I win speech of his\n majesty,\n Who ruleth the Grail?' she bethought her, and rich presents\n she sent the king,\n Of jewels fair, and beside them, they should to his kingdom\n bring 270\n Of this folk, so strange to look on, the twain of whom now I\n tell,\n Kondrie and the squire, her brother--and in this wise the\n chance befell\n (Much treasure beside she sent him whose cost might of none\n be told,)\n That Anfortas, the gentle monarch, who was courteous as he\n was bold,\n For the love he bare Orgelus\u00e9 sent this squire unto her\n grace, 275\n By the sin and the lust of women set apart from the human\n race!\n\n Now this son of the herbs and the planets loud mocked at the\n gallant knight,\n Who, courteous, would wait his coming; no charger he rode of\n might,\n But a mare so feint and feeble and halting in every limb,\n And oft to the ground it stumbled 'neath its rider so harsh\n and grim. 280\n I wot well e'en Dame Jeschut\u00e9 rode a better steed that day\n When Parzival's hand avenged her, and her shaming was put\n away!\n\n The squire he looked well upon Gawain, and thus in his wrath\n he spake,\n 'If thou be a _knight_, I think me, and my lady with thee\n wilt take\n Thou shalt sorely repent the journey--A fool thou in truth\n must be, 285\n And such peril shall be thy guerdon as winneth great praise\n to thee,\n If so be that thou canst withstand it--Yet, if but a\n _servant_ thou,\n Of buffets and blows, I think me, full soon wilt thou have\n enow!'\n\n Then out quoth Gawain, 'My knighthood such chastisement ne'er\n might feel,\n 'Tis good but for worthless youngsters who shrink from the\n touch of steel; 290\n But _I_ hold me free of such insults, and e'en if it so shall\n be\n That thou and this lovely lady your mock'ry shall pour on me,\n Then _one_ sure shall taste my vengeance, nor think thou that\n I wax wroth\n For ill tho' thou be to look on I hold thee but light in\n troth!'\n With that by the hair he gripped him, and he swung him from\n off his horse, 295\n The squire glared wrathful on him, and his bristles, so sharp\n and coarse,\n Took vengeance sore on Gawain, his hand did they cut and tear\n Till the blood dripped crimson from it--then loud laughed the\n lady fair,\n 'Now in sooth this is good to look on, to see ye twain in\n wrath!'\n So rode the twain, the squire's horse came halting upon their\n path. 300\n\n So came they unto the linden where the wounded knight they\n found,\n On his side the herb of healing the hand of Gawain bound;\n Quoth the knight, 'Now, how went it with thee since first\n thou didst find me here?\n Thou 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\n ween, 305\n Did she force such a joust upon me as well-nigh my death had\n been!\n So, if thou thy life now lovest, I warn thee to let her be,\n And turn thee aside, nor ride with her, but warning to take\n by me--\n And yet may my wounds be heal\u00e8d, if rest for awhile I gain,\n And, Sir Knight, thereto canst thou help me!' 'That will I,'\n quoth knight Gawain. 310\n Then the wounded knight spake further, 'A spital shall stand\n near by,\n And if I but now might reach it for awhile I in peace might\n lie,\n Thou seest my lady's palfrey, it can carry, methinks, the\n twain\n If she rideth afore, I behind her, so help me its back to\n gain.'\n\n From the bough of the mighty linden Sir Gawain he loosed the\n steed, 315\n And the bridle he took that the palfrey he might to the lady\n lead--\n 'Away from me!' cried the sick man, 'thou treadest on me I\n trow!'\n Then he led it apart, and the lady she followed so soft and\n slow,\n For she knew what her lord did purpose; as the maid to her\n horse he swung,\n Up started the knight, and swiftly on the charger of Gawain\n sprung! 320\n And, methinks, an ill deed he did there--With his lady he\n rode away,\n And I ween that with sin was tainted the prize that he won\n that day!\n\n Then sore did Gawain bemoan him, but the lady laughed loud\n and clear;\n (And, were it a jest, he thought him such mirth were\n unfitting here,)\n As his charger was taken from him her sweet lips in this wise\n spake, 325\n 'First wert thou a _knight_, then, in short space, I thee for\n a _leech_ must take,\n Now art thou become my _footman_! yet thou shouldst in no\n wise despair,\n Such skill sure should bring thee comfort! Wouldst thou\n _still_ in my favours share?'\n\n 'Yea, Lady,' then quoth Sir Gawain, 'an I might thy favor\n hold,\n The whole earth hath nothing fairer were the tale of its\n riches told; 330\n And of crown\u00e8d heads, and uncrown\u00e8d, of all who may joyful\n win\n The highest meed of glory, did they bid me to share therein,\n Yet still my heart would rede me to count all such gain as\n naught\n If thy love were but weighed against it, such bliss had thy\n favour brought!\n If thy love may not be my guerdon then a swift sad death I'll\n die, 335\n 'Tis thine own this thing that thou scornest when thou\n dealest thus mockingly.\n Tho' a free man born thou shalt hold me thy vassal, if such\n thy will,\n Call me knight, or slave, or servant, the _name_ it shall\n please me still!\n Yet, I think me, thou doest not rightly--When my service thou\n thus wilt shame\n Thou drawest down sin upon thee, and thou shamest thine own\n fair fame. 340\n If my service doth bring me honour thou hast naught withal to\n scorn,\n And such words shall but ill beseem thee tho' they lightly by\n me be borne!'\n\n Then back rode the knight, sore wounded, and he quoth, 'Is it\n thou, Gawain?\n For that which erewhile I owed thee here dost thou full\n payment gain,\n Since thine hand in bitter conflict, me, thy foeman, did\n prisoner make 345\n And unto thine uncle Arthur thou didst me thy captive take,\n And four weeks long must I dwell there, and four weeks long I\n fed\n With the dogs--I shall ne'er forget it till the days of my\n life be sped!'\n\n Then he quoth, 'Is it thou, O Urian? If now thou art wroth\n with me,\n Yet guiltless am I, the king's favour at that time I won for\n thee, 350\n For thy folly so far betrayed thee that men spake thee an\n outcast knight,\n And thy shield it was taken from thee, and forfeit thy name\n and right;\n Since thou ill didst entreat a maiden, and the peace of the\n land didst break,\n With a rope had the king repaid thee, but to him for thy life\n I spake!'\n\n 'Howe'er that might be, here thou standest, and the proverb\n thou well mayst know, 355\n \"Who saveth the life of another, that other shall have for\n foe.\"\n And I do as a wise man doeth--'Tis better a child should weep\n Than a full-grown man, and bearded,--this charger mine hand\n shall keep!'\n Then he spurred him amain, and he rode thence, as fast as his\n steed might fly,\n And wroth was Gawain at his dealing, and he spake out right\n angrily; 360\n\n 'Now it fell out in this wise, Lady, King Arthur his court\n did hold\n At Dianasdron, and with him rode many a Breton bold.\n Then as messenger to his kingdom a maiden must take her way,\n And this fool, for venture seeking, he crossed her path that\n day,\n And both to the land were strangers--He burnt with unholy\n fire, 365\n And fierce with the maid he wrestled till he bent her to his\n desire.\n As she cried for help we heard her--then the king \"To arms\"\n did call,\n In a wood the thing had chanced thus, thither rode we one and\n all,\n And I rode of all the foremost, and I saw the sinner's track,\n And I made him perforce my captive, and to Arthur I brought\n him back.' 370\n\n 'And the maiden she rode beside us, and sorely did she bemoan\n That to _force_ she must yield the guerdon that to _service_\n was due alone.\n Of her maidenhood had he robbed her--Yet but lowly his fame\n shall stand\n Who vaunteth himself the victor o'er a woman's unarm\u00e8d hand--\n And wrathful, I ween, was King Arthur, and he spake, 'Ye my\n servants true, 375\n Ye shall hold this deed for accurs\u00e8d, and the day of its\n doing rue.\n Alas! for the woful dawning and the light that this thing\n hath seen,\n Alas! that I here am ruler, for the judgment is mine, I\n ween!'\n And he spake to the weeping maiden, 'Hast thou wisdom, thy\n cause then plead.'\n She spake fearless, e'en as he bade her, and the knights they\n must list her rede. 380\n\n 'Then Prince Urian of Punturtois stood before the Breton\n king,\n And against his life and his honour, her plaint did the\n maiden bring,\n And she spake so that all might hear her, and with weeping\n words did pray\n The king, for the sake of women, her shaming to put away.\n And she prayed by the honour of women, and by the Round\n Table's fame, 385\n And the right which as message-bearer she thought of all men\n to claim,\n If he sat there that day for judgment he should judge her\n with judgment true,\n And avenge her of this dishonour which her soul must for ever\n rue.\n And she prayed they would do her justice, those knights of\n the Table Round,\n Since in sooth she had lost a treasure which might never\n again be found, 390\n Her maidenhood fair and unstain\u00e8d! Then all men, with one\n accord,\n Spake him guilty, and for his judgment called loudly upon\n their lord!'\n\n 'Then an advocate spake for the captive, (Small honour was\n his I trow.)\n And he spake as he might in his favour, yet it went with him\n ill enow,\n For of life and of honour forfeit did they judge him, the\n headsman's sword 395\n Should ne'er be his death, but a halter should they twine him\n of hempen cord.\n Then loud in his woe he prayed me, since he yielded him to\n mine hand,\n For mine honour should sure be stain\u00e8d if wrought were the\n king's command.\n Then I prayed of the weeping maiden, since she saw how that I\n in fight\n Had avenged upon him her shaming, to pardon the traitor\n knight. 400\n For sure 'twas the spell of her beauty that had wrought upon\n him for sin,\n And the love of her form so shapely--\"For aye if a knight\n doth win\n Sore peril for love of a woman, she should aid him, and hear\n his prayer,\n So I prithee to cease thine anger, and have pity on his\n despair.\"'\n\n 'Then the king and his men I prayed them, by what service I\n e'er had done, 405\n They should loose me from stain of dishonour which I by his\n death had won,\n And the knight should live, as I sware him.--Then the lady,\n his gracious queen,\n I prayed by the bond of kinship, since my friend she hath\n ever been,\n (From my childhood, King Arthur reared me and my love doth\n toward them flow,)\n That she of her kindness help me--as I asked, it was even so, 410\n For she drew on one side the maiden, and she spake to her\n soft and kind,\n And it was thro' the queen, I wot me, that the knight did his\n pardon find.\n Thus free from his guilt they spake him, yet his sin must he\n sorely rue,\n For the life that was granted to him stern penance he needs\n must do.\n With the hounds of the chase and the house-dogs from one\n trough he needs must eat 415\n For the space of four weeks, thus the maiden found avenging\n as it was meet!'\n\n 'For this cause is he wroth with me, Lady'--'Yet his judgment\n it went astray,\n If my love ne'er shall be thy guerdon, in such wise I'll his\n deed repay\n That ere he shall leave my kingdom he shall count it to him\n for shame!\n Since King Arthur avenged not the evil that was wrought on\n that maid's fair fame 420\n It falleth unto mine office, and judge am I o'er ye twain,\n Tho' who ye may be I know not, yet I to this task am fain!\n And well shall he be chastis\u00e8d for the wrong that he did the\n maid,\n Not for _thine_, for I ween such evil is better by blows\n repaid.'\n\n To the mare now Sir Gawain turned him, and lightly he caught\n the rein, 425\n And the squire he followed after, and the lady she spake\n again,\n And in Arabic spake she to him, and she gave him to know her\n will--\n Now hearken unto my story, how Sir Gawain he fared but ill:\n Then Malcr\u00e9ature, he left them--and Gawain his horse beheld,\n Too feeble it was for battle, the squire, as his way he held 430\n Down the hill, from the peasant-owner had taken the sorry\n steed,\n And Gawain for his charger must have it, tho' but ill it\n might serve his need.\n\n In mocking and hatred spake she, 'Wilt still ride upon thy\n way?'\n Quoth Gawain, 'I will take my journey e'en in such wise as\n thou shalt say.'\n She quoth, 'Wilt abide my counsel? It shall reach thee I ween\n too late!' 435\n Quoth he, 'Yet for that will I serve thee, tho' o'er-long I\n thy rede shall wait!'\n Quoth she, 'Then a fool I think thee, for unless thou shalt\n leave this mind,\n Then sorrow instead of gladness and repentance for joy\n thou'lt find!'\n Then he quoth, of her love desirous, 'Yet thy servant I still\n abide,\n If joy be my lot or sorrow, be thy love and thy will my\n guide. 440\n Since thy love laid its spell upon me in thy bidding my law I\n see,\n And ahorse or afoot I'll follow, I care not where'er it be!'\n\n So stood he beside the lady, and awhile he beheld the mare,\n Who to joust with such steed had ridden his gold were\n o'er-keen to spare!\n For the stirrups of hemp were twisted, and ne'er had this\n gallant knight 445\n Such saddle, I ween, bestridden, it would serve him but ill\n for fight.\n For e'en as he looked upon it, he thought, 'If on _that_ I\n ride,\n The girths sure will break asunder, nor the saddle my weight\n abide!'\n And so weak was the steed and ill-shapen, had one dared on\n its back to leap\n Of a sooth would the back have broken--On foot he the road\n must keep! 450\n\n And in this guise he took his journey: the horse by the rein\n he held,\n And his spear and his shield he carried; and the lady his\n grief beheld,\n And she mocked him with ringing laughter, fain was she to\n work him woe--\n Then his shield on the mare he fastened, and she spake, 'In\n such guise wouldst go,\n And carry thy wares thro' my kingdom? A strange lot is mine,\n I ween, 455\n Since _footman_, and _leech_, and _merchant_ in turn hath my\n comrade been!\n Of the toll hadst thou best beware thee, or else, as thou\n goest thy way,\n It may chance they who take the toll here on thy merchandise\n hands may lay!\n\n And tho' sharp, I ween, was her mocking yet her words was he\n fain to hear,\n Nor rued he the bitter speeches that rang sweet to his\n longing ear. 460\n And as ever his eyes beheld her his sorrow it fled away,\n For fair was she to his thinking as blossoms in month of May!\n A delight of the eyes, and heart-sorrow, his gain and his\n loss was she,\n And languishing joy did she quicken--Her freeman and captive\n he!\n\n This hath many a master taught me, that Amor, and Cupid too, 465\n And Venus, of both the mother, make all men their deeds to\n rue;\n For with darts and with fire they kindle desire in the\n longing heart,\n But such love seemeth me but evil that is lighted by torch or\n dart.\n And the true heart it loveth ever, be its guerdon or joy or\n woe,\n And in honour the love is rooted which alone shall abiding\n know! 470\n\n 'Gainst me have thy darts, O Cupid! I ween ever missed their\n mark,\n Nor Amor with spear hath smote me, nor fell on my heart a\n spark\n From the torch of thy mother Venus--Tho' love 'neath your\n rule shall be,\n If love be my lot, not from _passion_ but from _faith_ shall\n it bloom for me!\n\n And if I with wit and wisdom 'gainst love's spells might a\n hero aid, 475\n Gawain had I gladly aided, nor asked that I be repaid.\n And yet no shame need he think it if love's fetters him\n captive hold,\n And if he of love be vanquished, for her captives are aye the\n bold.\n And yet so strong was he ever, and so knightly, to face the\n foe,\n That 'tis pity so brave a hero by a _woman_ should be laid\n low! 480\n\n Now well let us gaze upon thee, thou power which true love\n doth wield,\n Such joy hast thou taken from us that barren and reft the\n field,\n And thou makest a road of sorrow across it, both long and\n wide,\n And if thy goal had been other than the high heart I would\n not chide.\n For folly methinks and lightness love all too old shall be, 485\n Or shall we to childhood reckon the evil love worketh free?\n For better are ways unseemly in youth, than if age forget\n Its wisdom--much ill love worketh, unto which shall the blame\n be set?\n For the mind of youth ever wavers, and changeth as changing\n winds,\n And if love shall be thus unsteadfast, little praise may she\n hope to find. 490\n Nay, better shall be my counsel, for the _wise_ praise true\n love alone;\n Yea, and maiden and man shall join me, and all who love's\n power have known.\n\n When true love unto true love answereth, undarkened by\n thought of guile,\n And it vexeth them not that love turneth the key on their\n heart awhile,\n For they fear not nor think of wavering, then high as the\n heaven above 495\n O'er the earth, o'er the love that changeth, is such true and\n steadfast love.\n\n Yet, gladly as I would free him, to Frau Minne Gawain must\n bow,\n And his joy shall awhile be darkened--Small profit my words,\n I trow,\n And the wisdom I fain had taught him, for no man may love\n withstand,\n And love alone giveth wisdom, and nerveth with strength the\n hand! 500\n\n And to Gawain she gave this penance, afoot must he wend his\n way\n While his lady she rode beside him--To a woodland they came\n alway,\n And he led the steed to a tree-trunk, and the shield that\n awhile it bare\n He hung round his neck as befitting, and lightly bestrode the\n mare,\n And scarcely the steed might bear him--Then they came to a\n builded land, 505\n And a castle so fair and stately he saw there before him\n stand,\n And his heart and his eyes bare witness no fortress was like\n this hall,\n So knightly and fair the palace, and so countless its turrets\n tall.\n And many a maiden looked forth from its casements, he thought\n to see\n Four hundred and more, o'er all others, I ween, _four_ might\n fairest be. 510\n\n Then the lady and her companion they rode a well-trodden road\n To a water whose waves ran swiftly, and ships sailed the\n flood so broad.\n By the landing there lay a meadow, where men jousts were wont\n to ride,\n And the towers of that stately castle rose fair on the\n further side.\n Then Gawain, that gallant hero, saw a knight who rode swift\n and near, 515\n As one who for combat lusted, and he spared not or shield or\n spear.\n\n Quoth the lady, fair Orgelus\u00e9, and haughty her tone and\n proud,\n 'In what else thou mayst gainsay me in this be my truth\n allowed,\n For other I ne'er have told thee save that shame shall thy\n portion be,\n Now here, if thou canst, defend thee, since no better is left\n to thee. 520\n Methinks he who cometh hither shall fell thee beneath his\n thrust--\n If thy garments perchance be riven, and thou bitest, ashamed,\n the dust,\n Then those women above shall mourn thee, who look for some\n deed of fame,\n Seest thou how they gaze from the lattice? How, then, if they\n see thy shame?'\n Then the boatman across the water he came at the lady's will, 525\n From the shore to the boat she stepped there, and Gawain it\n but pleased him ill;\n For, mocking, fair Orgelus\u00e9 spake thus to the gallant knight,\n 'Thou com'st not with me, I leave thee on this shore as a\n pledge for fight!'\n Then sadly his voice rang after, 'Say, Lady, wilt leave me\n so?\n Shall I never again behold thee?' Then she spake, 'I would\n have thee know 530\n If victory be thy portion thou shalt look on my face again,\n Yet but small is the chance I think me.' So sailed she from\n knight Gawain.\n\n Then up rode Lischois Giwellius, 'twere a lie if I said he\n _flew_,\n And yet little other did he for the earth scarce his\n footprints knew.\n And for this must I praise the charger, who the greensward\n with such swift feet 535\n Had trodden--Gawain bethought him how he best might his\n foeman meet;\n He thought, 'Should I here await him afoot, or this steed\n bestride?\n If his horse's speed he check not he surely o'er me will\n ride,\n And this fate must o'ertake his charger, to fall o'er my\n fallen steed;\n But, if he for combat lusteth, afoot on this flowery mead 540\n Will I face him and give him battle, since battle he doth\n desire,\n Tho' never I win her favour who hath brought on me need so\n dire.'\n\n Fight they must, and they fought as heroes, he who came and\n he who did wait,\n For jousting he made him ready, and the lance-point Gawain\n held straight,\n And he rested it on the saddle, (for thus did he counsel\n take,) 545\n Then e'en as the joust was ridden the spears did in splinters\n break,\n And the knights, the one as the other, they fell in that\n goodly fray,\n For the better charger stumbled and by Gawain its rider lay.\n Then the twain to their feet upspringing their swords from\n the scabbard drew,\n Since alike they were keen for combat, and their shields in\n pieces flew, 550\n For each hewed at the shield of the other till a hand's\n breadth alone, I ween,\n They held, for the pledge of conflict the shield it hath ever\n been.\n\n Flashed the sword-blades, fire sprang from the helmets, a\n venture brave I trow\n Was his who should here be victor, tho' stern conflict he\n first must know.\n Long space did they fight, those heroes, on the flowery\n meadow wide, 555\n And as smiths, who all day have laboured, as it weareth to\n eventide\n Grow faint with their toil and weary with the mighty blows\n they smite,\n So weary and faint were those heroes who here did for honour\n fight.\n\n But for this none methinks shall praise them, unwise do I\n hold the twain,\n No cause had they here for battle, 'twas fame that they\n thought to gain; 560\n And strangers unto each other, each other's life they sought,\n And yet, had they made confession, each owed to the other\n naught!\n\n Now Gawain was a gallant wrestler, and his foe to the ground\n would bring\n If in spite of the sword he might grip him, and let but the\n mighty ring\n Of his arms his foeman circle, he forced him where'er he\n would. 565\n Now must he with force defend him, and he fought as a hero\n good,\n And his courage waxed ever higher, and the youth in his arms\n he caught,\n And he bare him to earth beneath him tho' e'en as a man he\n fought.\n And he quoth, 'Wilt thou live, thou hero, thou must yield\n thee unto mine hand!'\n Yet Lischois, he was all unready to follow so stern command; 570\n For never his pledge had he given, and he deemed it a\n wondrous thing\n That the hand of a knight should o'erthrow him, and him in\n such peril bring\n That against his will he must yield him, who had ever the\n victor been,\n For in sooth full many a combat his foeman o'erthrown had\n seen.\n Full oft he from them had taken what he cared not to give\n again, 575\n Nay, rather his life would he forfeit; and he spake unto\n knight Gawain,\n And he said, 'Let what would befall him, his pledge to no man\n he'd give;'\n Nay, death would he rather suffer, since no longer he cared\n to live!\n\n Then sadly, he spake, the vanquished, 'Thou hero, is victory\n thine?\n So long as God bare me favour such honour was ever mine; 580\n But now hath my fame an ending, and thy right hand hath laid\n me low,\n And if maiden and man must hearken to the tale of my\n overthrow\n Whose glory once rose to the heaven, then death shall my\n portion be\n Ere my kinsmen shall hear the story, and shall sorrow and\n mourn for me!\n Yet Gawain still prayed him yield him, but his will and his\n mind were so 585\n That he prayed God would rather take him, or slay him by this\n his foe.\n Thought Gawain, 'I am loth to kill him, if he swear but to do\n my will\n Unharmed he may go'--yet the young knight withheld him his\n promise still.\n\n Then, ere he his hand had given, the hero he bade him rise,\n On the flowery mead they sat them: then Gawain he bethought\n him wise, 590\n (For his sorry steed it vexed him) the horse of his\n vanquished foe\n With spur and with rein would he test there, if 'twere good\n for his need or no.\n ('Twas armed as beseemed a warhorse, and the covering was\n fair to see,\n Of velvet and silk was it fashioned, what trapping might\n better be?)\n Since the venture such prize had brought him, who should\n hinder him in his need 595\n If for his own use he took it? so he vaulted upon the steed:\n\n And he joyed in the free, swift movement, and he cried, 'Now,\n how shall this be?\n Of a sooth it is thou, Gringuljet, that false Urian stole\n from me.\n _He_ knoweth best how he took it, and shameful I count his\n deed.\n Now, who thus for battle armed thee, since thou art of a\n truth my steed? 600\n Sure 'tis God who hath sent thee to me, and this fair gift\n shall end my woe.'\n Then he sprang to the ground, and he sought him the token he\n well might know,\n On its shoulder the Grail-Dove branded--In a joust did\n L\u00e4helein slay\n Its rider, the knight of Prienlaskors, and the charger he\n bare away.\n Then Orilus was its master, and he gave it to knight Gawain 605\n On Plimiz\u00f6l's shore--greatly joyed he when the charger he won\n again.\n\n Blithe was he, and high of courage, who awhile was sad and\n sore,\n Yet love unto ruth constrained him, and the service so true\n he bore\n To the lady who yet would shame him, and his thoughts ever\n toward her flew.\n Then up sprang proud Lischois lightly, and his good sword he\n gripped anew, 610\n For it lay where Gawain had cast it when he wrested it from\n his hand:\n And the ladies look down on the heroes, as for combat once\n more they stand.\n\n The shields were so hacked and riven that the knights they\n must cast them by,\n And, shieldless, to strife betake them, and they bare them\n right gallantly.\n And a crowd of fair maidens o'er them from the palace window\n saw 615\n The strife that below was foughten: and fierce anger awoke\n once more,\n For too nobly born I wot me was each man that he might brook\n That his fame should be lightly yielded, and maids on his\n shaming look.\n And helmet and sword were smitten, for shields 'gainst cold\n death were they,\n He who saw the heroes strive there had mourned for their toil\n that day. 620\n Lischois Giwellius bare him, that fair youth, as knight so\n brave,\n True courage, and deeds undaunted, the counsel his high heart\n gave.\n And many a swift blow dealt he, as quick on Gawain he sprung,\n And lightly avoided from him, and his blade round his head he\n swung.\n But Gawain stood firm and undaunted, and he thought him,\n 'Now, let me hold 625\n Thee once in mine arms, I'll repay thee thy dealings, thou\n hero bold!'\n\n And fiery sparks might ye look on, and the flash of the\n glittering blade\n Well wielded by hand of hero--Nor one in his station stayed,\n For they pressed each one on the other, backward, forward, to\n either side,\n Yet this conflict so fierce, I wot me, did ne'er of revenge\n betide, 630\n And no hatred they bare to each other--Then the arms of\n Gawain at last\n He clasped round his gallant foeman, and the knight to the\n ground he cast.\n And I think, an I friendship sware here, I would shrink from\n such fond embrace,\n E'en tho' brotherhood it were sealing--Nor with ye would such\n clasp find grace!\n\n Then Gawain he bade him yield him, yet Lischois, who against\n his will 635\n Had striven when first he felled him, was all unready still.\n And he quoth, 'Wherefore thus delay thee, 'tis needless, take\n thou my life,\n For better to die than to yield me--Since I wot well that in\n this strife\n The fame that was mine aforetime hath vanished beneath thy\n blow,\n Of God must I be accurs\u00e8d, since my glory such goal doth\n know! 640\n For the love of fair Orgelus\u00e9 have I served her with knightly\n hand,\n And many a knight have I felled here, for none might my arm\n withstand.\n Now shalt thou be heir to my glory, for it falleth to thee of\n right\n If thou, who my fame hath ended, here endeth my life, Sir\n Knight.'\n\n But King Lot's son he thought in this wise, 'To this deed\n have I little mind, 645\n My name, it shall gain small honour if this man here his\n death shall find,\n If for no sin of his I slay him, who is true and valiant\n knight--\n 'Twas _her_ love that spurred him 'gainst me, for whose\n favour I too would fight;\n 'Tis her beauty that doth constrain me, 'tis she that doth\n work me woe,\n Then why not, for the sake of my lady, show mercy to this my\n foe? 650\n If perchance for mine own I win her, if mine own such bliss\n may be,\n Then _he_ cannot take her from me since stronger am I than\n he!\n And if o'er our strife she watcheth, then she must of a\n surety own\n That I, who for love would serve her, true service and good\n have shown!'\n Then out spake the gallant Gawain, 'I were loth thy life to\n take, 655\n But hence will I let thee, scatheless, for fair Orgelus\u00e9's\n sake!'\n\n Weary were they, small wonder, then the fallen knight arose,\n And down on the grassy meadow apart sat those gallant foes.\n Then the master boatman stepped forth from the water unto the\n land,\n And a grey and yearling falcon he carried upon his hand. 660\n This right was his o'er the meadow, who jousted upon the\n plain,\n The charger of him who was vanquished he did as his tribute\n gain.\n From his hand, who was there the victor, should he take, as a\n gift, the steed,\n And bowing, thank him fairly, nor stint of his praise the\n meed.\n And such payment he oft had taken on the flowery meadow\n green, 665\n Nor otherwise had his living; save at whiles, when such\n chance had been,\n That a bird in his falcon's clutches had fluttered in grief\n and pain.\n Nor plough drave he thro' those furrows, for enough did he\n deem his gain.\n And son of a folk so knightly was he born to a knight's\n estate,\n And courteous, I ween, his bearing who there on Gawain did\n wait. 670\n\n So came he unto the hero, and with courteous word and fair\n He prayed of his hand the tribute, and the steed that should\n be his share.\n Quoth Gawain, the gallant hero, 'No merchant methinks I be\n To pay here or toll or tribute, from such tax do I hold me\n free!'\n Then he spake out, the master boatman, 'Sir Knight, since\n full many a maid 675\n Hath seen thee stand here the victor, by _thee_ be my tribute\n paid.\n My right o'er the plain must thou own here, in knightly joust\n thine hand\n Hath won for mine own this charger; nor thy fame shall the\n lower stand,\n For he, whom thine hand o'erthrew here, the world with his\n praises rung,\n And with truth, unto this day's dawning, have men of his\n glory sung; 680\n But now he of God is stricken, and his joy hath an ending\n found,\n But _thou_, in his stead, I think me, with honour and fame\n art crowned!'\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'He first o'erthrew me, and I but that deed\n repaid.\n If tribute for joust be due here, by _him_ be that tribute\n paid!\n Look well on this mare, he won it, thou canst take it if such\n thy will. 685\n The charger that standeth by me, as mine own will I claim it\n still--\n Tho' never a steed be thy portion, on _that_ steed I hence\n will go,\n Thou speakest of _right_, wouldst thou take it, then first I\n would have thee know\n (Yea, thou thyself wilt own it) 'tis unfitting I take my way\n Afoot, and right sore 'twould grieve me if that charger were\n thine alway! 690\n For to-day in the early morning it was _mine_ without doubt\n or fear,\n And childish thou art if thou thinkest thus lightly to win it\n here!\n 'Twas Duke Orilus, the Burgundian, who gave me the steed of\n old,\n Which Urian stole this morning, and the tale thou for truth\n shalt hold.\n And the foal of a mule shalt thou win thee ere thy prize be\n this steed of mine-- 695\n Yet a fair gift in sooth will I give thee, for the _steed_\n shall the _knight_ be thine,\n Thou accountest him honour-worthy--if he say thee or yea or\n nay,\n And if well or ill it doth please him I abide by my word\n alway!'\n\n Then joyful I ween was the boatman, and with smiling lips he\n spake,\n 'Now methinks that a gift so costly it hath ne'er been my lot\n to take, 700\n And I deem myself all unworthy--Yet, Sir Knight, be he mine\n indeed,\n Then the guerdon is more than I asked for and o'er my deserts\n my meed.\n For his praises they rang so clearly that five hundred steeds\n all told,\n Swift-footed and strong for battle, too low for his price\n I'ld hold!\n If a rich man thou thus wilt make me, then this thing shalt\n thou do for me, 705\n To my boat shalt thou captive bring him, that I hold him as\n pledge from thee.'\n King Lot's son he spake in answer, 'Yea this will I do, and\n more,\n To thy boat first, and then from out it will I lead him\n within thy door,\n And there will I yield him captive'--'And there will I\n welcome thee!'\n Spake the boatman, and low he bowed him, and thanks spake he\n fair and free. 710\n And he quoth, 'Dear my lord and master, if it please thee to\n be my guest,\n And abide in my house till the morning, then softly I'll bid\n thee rest.\n Nor won boatman e'er higher honour, and blest be the eventide\n That seeth a knight so gallant 'neath the shade of my\n roof-tree bide.'\n\n Then out quoth Gawain, 'That will I, for in truth I had\n prayed this grace, 715\n For weary am I with battle, and fain would I rest a space.\n She who to this sorrow led me, her sweetness she maketh sour,\n And heart's joy shall be dear to purchase, and sorrow doth\n crown each hour,\n And the guerdon for this her service unlike to herself shall\n be--\n Alas! I had found a treasure, yet but loss hath it brought to\n me! 720\n And one breast thro' that loss now sinketh that awhile\n swelled so proud and high,\n When joy was from God my portion, for a heart did beneath it\n lie.\n Now I think me that heart hath vanished, and where shall I\n comfort seek?\n Shall I helpless abide that Frau Minne her wrath upon me\n shall wreak?\n Yea, had she the heart of a woman she would give me my joy\n again 725\n Who maketh her sweetness bitter, and turneth my bliss to\n pain!'\n\n Then the boatman he heard how he wrestled with sorrow, by\n love constrained,\n And he quoth, 'So is here the custom, in the forest as on the\n plain,\n As far as Klingsor ruleth, be he coward or valiant knight,\n \"Sad to day, to-morrow joyful,\" So it goeth for peace or\n fight. 730\n Perchance the truth thou knowst not? This land is a\n wonder-land,\n And ever by day and by night-time if good luck shall not aid\n thine hand\n Little good may thy manhood do thee! See thou how the sun\n sinks low,\n I think me, Sir Knight, it were better that we should to my\n vessel go!'\n Then Lischois he was led by Gawain, and never a word he\n spake, 735\n And the boatman he followed after and the steed by its rein\n did take.\n\n So sailed they across the water, and they came to the further\n coast,\n And the boatman he prayed Sir Gawain, 'Be thou in mine house\n the host.'\n And so rich was the house and stately, that scarce in King\n Arthur's land,\n E'en in Nantes that noble city, did a fairer dwelling stand. 740\n And he led Lischois thro' the doorway, and he gave him unto\n the care\n Of the host and his folk--Then the boatman spake thus to his\n daughter fair,\n 'Fair times and a goodly lodging be the lot of this noble\n knight\n Who standeth here, go thou with him, for I deem me it shall\n be right,\n And tend him as best shall seem thee, nor stint thou in aught\n thy care, 745\n For great good hath he brought unto us, and 'tis meet he thy\n grace should share!'\n\n To his son's care he gave the charger---Then the maiden her\n sire's behest\n Fulfilled as right well became her, for she led the noble\n guest\n To a chamber fair, where the flooring was hid 'neath a carpet\n green\n Of rushes and fresh-plucked blossoms, as the way of the land\n had been. 750\n There the gentle maid unarmed him--quoth Gawain, 'God show\n grace to thee,\n For had not thy sire thus bade thee too great were thy care\n for me!'\n And she quoth, 'For my father's bidding I do not this deed,\n Sir Knight,\n But rather that this my service may find favour before thy\n sight.'\n\n Then a squire, the host's son, must bear there soft cushions,\n a goodly store, 755\n And along the wall he laid them, and over against the door.\n And a carpet he spread before them that Gawain he might seat\n him there;\n And as one who knew well his office a cushion so rich he\n bare,\n With a covering of crimson sendal, that down on the couch he\n laid;\n And a seat like unto the other for the host he beside it\n made. 760\n Came another squire and he carried fresh linen the board to\n spread,\n (For thus gave the host commandment,) and he bare with the\n linen bread.\n And the hostess she followed after, and she looked well upon\n Gawain,\n And she gave him a heartfelt greeting, and she spake, 'Now\n such grace we gain\n From thine hand we are rich henceforward as we never have\n been before, 765\n Sir Knight, sure our good luck waketh since such fortune it\n hither bore!'\n\n Then when they had brought him water, and the host sat beside\n his guest,\n With courteous mien Sir Gawain this prayer to his host\n addrest,\n 'Now I pray let this maid eat with me,' 'Sir Knight, ne'er\n was she allowed\n To sit with knights, or eat with them, lest she wax of their\n grace too proud. 770\n And yet so much do we owe thee, loth were I to say thee nay.\n So, daughter, sit thou beside him, and as he shall speak\n obey!'\n\n Then she blushed for shame all rosy, yet she did as her\n father bade,\n And down on the couch by Gawain sat Ben\u00e9 the gracious maid.\n (And two stalwart sons had the boatman beside that maiden\n sweet) 775\n Three game-birds, I ween, that even were slain by the falcon\n fleet,\n And all three did they bear unto Gawain, and a broth with\n herbs beside,\n And the maiden she courteous served him as she sat by the\n hero's side;\n For she carved for him dainty morsels, and laid them on bread\n so white\n With her slender hands, and gently she spake to the stranger\n knight, 780\n 'Wilt thou send a bird to my mother? for else hath she none,\n I ween.'\n Then gladly he told the maiden his will e'en as hers had been\n In this thing as in all other--to the hostess the bird they\n bare,\n And they honoured the hand of the hero, nor the boatman his\n thanks would spare.\n\n Purslain and lettuce brought they, in vinegar steeped, I ween 785\n Had he sought here his strength to nourish little good might\n such food have been;\n And if one should o'er-long feed on it then the colour it\n waxeth pale,\n Such pallor as truth betrayeth, if the mouth to its speaking\n fail.\n And if with false red it be hidden, it fadeth, and bringeth\n shame,\n But she who is true and steadfast she winneth the higher\n fame. 790\n\n If one by goodwill were nourished, then Gawain, he right well\n had fed,\n To her child naught the mother grudgeth, and as free gave the\n host his bread.\n Then they bare away the tables, and the hostess she bade him\n rest,\n And bedding I ween in plenty they brought for the gallant\n guest.\n And one was of down, and the covering above it of velvet\n green, 795\n Yet the velvet was none of the richest tho' fair had its\n fashion been.\n And a cushion must serve for cover, beneath it should Gawain\n lie;\n Nor the silk had with gold been purchased, 'twas won in far\n Araby.\n Of silk, too, the cunning stitching, and the linen was fair,\n and white\n As snow that they laid above it, and a pillow they brought\n the knight. 800\n And a cloak of her own she lent him, for wrapping, that\n maiden fair,\n 'Twas new, and of ermine fashioned, and such as a prince\n might wear.\n\n Then leave the host courteous prayed him ere he laid himself\n down to sleep,\n And men say that alone with Sir Gawain the maiden her watch\n did keep,\n And I think if he more had prayed her she never had said him\n Nay-- 805\n Then he slept, for he well might slumber, God keep him till\n dawn of day!\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XI\n\nARNIVE\n\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook XI. tells how Gawain would brave the venture of the Ch\u00e2teau\nMarveil, and how the boatman and his daughter strove to withhold\n him.\nHow Gawain came to the Castle, and of the Lit Merveil and its\n perils.\nHow Gawain slew the lion, and ended the enchantments of the\n castle, and\nhow he was healed of his wounds by the Queen Arniv\u00e9.\n\n BOOK XI\n\n ARNIVE\n\n Weary he closed his eyelids, and he slept in a slumber deep\n Till the light of the early morning must waken him from his\n sleep.\n And many a window saw he within that chamber wall,\n And clear glass was before each window--Thro' a doorway the\n light did fall,\n 'Twas open, without was an orchard, thither gat him the\n gallant knight 5\n For the air, and the song-birds' music, and to see what might\n meet his sight\n And but little space had he sat there, when the castle he saw\n again\n As at eventide he saw it when he fought on the grassy plain.\n And he saw from the hall of the palace full many a maiden\n gaze,\n And many were fair to look on; and he thought, with a great\n amaze, 10\n That a wondrous watch they must keep there, since they\n wearied not thro' the night,\n And little might they have slumbered, for as yet scarce had\n dawned the light.\n\n Then he thought, 'For the sake of these ladies will I lay me\n to sleep once more.'\n Then again to his couch he gat him, and for covering he drew\n him o'er\n The mantle the maid had lent him--Did no man his slumber\n break? 15\n Nay, sorely the host had vexed him, if one should his guest\n awake.\n Then of true heart bethought the maiden, who soft by her\n mother lay,\n And she roused her from out her slumber, and she took to the\n guest her way,\n And again he slept so sweetly--Then she thought her, that\n gentle maid,\n That fain would she do him service, and she sat her beside\n his bed, 20\n Fair was she, and sweet to look on, and but seldom at\n eventide,\n Or in hour of the early dawning, such venture has sought my\n side!\n Short space ere Gawain awakened and beheld how she watched\n him there,\n And he looked and he laughed upon her, 'God reward thee, thou\n maiden fair,\n That thou breakest for me thy slumber, on thyself dost thou\n vengeance take, 25\n Since nor service nor joust so knightly have I ridden for thy\n sweet sake!'\n And she answered, that gracious maiden, 'On thy service no\n claim have I,\n But look thou with favour on me, and thy will do I willingly,\n And all who are with my father, yea, mother alike and child,\n Do hail thee their lord and master, for love of thy dealings\n mild!' 30\n\n Then he quoth, 'Is it long since thou camest? Had I of thy\n coming known\n Fain would I have asked a question, perchance thou the truth\n hadst shown:\n Yestreen and again this morning fair ladies have looked on me\n From a mighty tower, of thy goodness now tell me who may they\n be?'\n But the maiden she shrunk in terror, and she cried, 'Ask me\n not, Sir Knight, 35\n Since ne'er may I give an answer--I prithee to hear aright,\n If I knew, yet I might not tell thee, nor do thou my silence\n chide,\n But ask thou what else shall please thee and my lips naught\n from thee shall hide,\n But on this thing alone keep silence, and follow thou what I\n say!'\n But Gawain, he would ever ask her, and ever an answer pray, 40\n What ladies were they who sat there, and looked from that\n stately hall?\n And the maiden she wept full sorely, and aloud in her grief\n did call.\n\n 'Twas yet in the early dawning, and her father he sought her\n side,\n Nor I deem me had he been wrathful if here did such chance\n betide\n That Gawain with the maid had striven, and had forced her\n unto his will, 45\n And the maiden, so fair and gentle, in such wise did she hold\n her still,\n For beside the couch was she seated--Then her father he\n mildly spake,\n 'Now weep not so sore, my daughter, for if one a jest doth\n make\n Whereof thou at first art wrathful, yet I ween ere the time\n be long,\n Shall thy sorrow be changed to gladness, and thy wailing to\n joyful song!' 50\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'Nay, mine host, naught hath chanced here save\n that which thine eye may see;\n This maiden I fain would question, but naught would she tell\n to me,\n For she thinketh, 'tis my undoing, and silence hath she\n implored:\n But now if it shall not vex thee let my service here find\n reward,\n And tell me, mine host, if it please thee, how it stands with\n those ladies there, 55\n For I know not the place or the country where I looked on\n such maidens fair,\n So many there are, and their raiment showeth clear to my\n wondering sight!'\n Then the host wrung his hands for sorrow, and he spake, 'Ask\n me not, Sir Knight,\n In the name of God, ask no question--For wherever thy foot\n shall speed,\n Or whatever thine eyes shall light on, no need shall be like\n their need!' 60\n\n 'Then soothly I'll mourn for their sorrow,' quoth Gawain,\n 'but mine host now say\n Why vex thee so sore for my question? Thine answer why thus\n delay?'\n 'Sir Knight, for thy manhood mourn I, if thou wilt not thy\n question spare\n Then strife sure shall be thy portion, and sorrow thine heart\n shall bear.\n And thy sorrow of joy shall rob us, myself and my children\n three, 65\n Who were born for thy gallant service true service to yield\n to thee.'\n Quoth Gawain, 'Yet for this thou shalt tell me, or if thou\n still say me, Nay,\n And I learn not from thee the story yet the truth will I know\n alway!'\n\n Then the host he spake out truly, 'Sir Knight, I must sorely\n rue,\n The question thou here dost ask me--Thou goest to strife\n anew, 70\n Arm thee well, and a shield I'll lend thee--In \"Terre\n Merveil\" thou art,\n And the \"Lit Merveil\" shall be here--And ne'er hath a\n knightly heart\n Withstood all the many dangers that in Ch\u00e2teau Merveil shall\n be!\n Turn aside, ere thy death o'ertake thee, for life should be\n dear to thee!\n For wherever thine hand shall have striven, or what ventures\n soe'er it found 75\n As child's play have been thy perils to those which beset\n this ground!'\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'Yet 'twould sorely vex me, if I, but to save\n me pain,\n Rode hence, doing naught, and those ladies had looked for\n mine aid in vain.\n Long since have I heard of this castle, and since it so near\n doth stand\n No man from the task shall bring me; to the venture I set my\n hand!' 80\n Then the host he did sore bemoan him, and he spake to his\n guest so true,\n 'Now as naught is all other peril, what perils around thee\n drew,\n To the peril of this adventure, to its awe, and its anguish\n dire,\n And naught but the truth am I speaking, for no man ever spake\n me liar!\n But that gallant knight, Sir Gawain, for naught would he turn\n aside, 85\n But he quoth, 'Now mine host give counsel how the strife I\n may best abide,\n If thy words be the words of wisdom, and God give me the\n strength thereto,\n Thy will and thy rede I'll follow, and knightly the deeds\n I'll do!\n Sir Host, of a sooth it were ill done, did I fail here a blow\n to strike,\n And coward should I be accounted of foeman and friend alike.' 90\n Then first did the host bemoan him, such sorrow he ne'er\n might know,\n And he quoth to his guest, 'If it may be that Heaven such\n grace shall show\n That death be not here thy portion, then this land unto thee\n shall fall.\n And the stake is full many a maiden fast bound in a magic\n thrall,\n No man ere this day hath freed them--And with them many noble\n knights 95\n Shall lie as yet imprisoned; and if thou with hand of might\n Shall loose them, thou winnest glory, and God showeth grace\n to thee,\n And joyful, o'er light and beauty, king and ruler thou sure\n shalt be!\n And maidens from many a country shall honour thee as their\n king.\n Nor think, if thou now dost ride hence, such deed shame on\n thee should bring, 100\n Since on this field Lischois Giwellius hath yielded him to\n thine hand,\n And left unto thee his honour; who erstwhile in every land\n Hath done gallant deeds of knighthood, of right may I praise\n his name,\n No knight showed a higher courage, or won him a fairer fame.\n And in no heart the root of virtue it showeth such fair\n increase 105\n In blossom and flower of God's planting, save in Ither of\n Gaheviess!'\n\n 'And he who at Nantes slew Prince Ither my ship bare but\n yesterday,\n Five steeds hath he given unto me, (God keep him in peace\n alway,)\n Princes and kings once rode them, but now they afar must\n fare,\n And tidings of him who o'erthrew them must they carry to\n Pelrap\u00e4r. 110\n For thus have they sworn the victor--His shield telleth many\n a tale\n Of jousting so fair and knightly--He rode hence to seek the\n Grail!'\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'Say, whence came he hither? Mine host, since\n he rode so near,\n Knew he naught of the wondrous venture? Or did he the marvel\n hear?'\n 'Sir Knight, ne'er a word hath he heard here, I guarded me\n all too well, 115\n Lest unseemly my deed be reckoned if unasked I the tale\n should tell.\n And hadst thou thyself not asked me thou never from me hadst\n known\n The venture that here awaits thee, wrought of terror and pain\n alone.\n If thou wilt not forego this peril, and thy life shall the\n forfeit pay,\n Then never a greater sorrow have we known than we know\n to-day. 120\n But if thou shalt here be victor, and over this land shalt\n reign,\n Then my poverty hath an ending, and my loss shall be turned\n to gain;\n Such trust in thy free hand have I, I shall joy without\n sorrow know\n If thy glory here winneth glory, and thy body be not laid\n low!'\n\n 'Now arm thee for deadly warfare!'--unarmed was as yet\n Gawain, 125\n 'Now I prithee bring here my harness!' and the host to his\n will was fain.\n And from head to foot she armed him, the maiden fair and\n tall,\n And her father he sought the charger--Now a shield hung upon\n the wall,\n And the wood it was tough and well hardened, (else Gawain\n ne'er this tale might tell,)\n And the shield and the horse were brought him--and the host\n he bethought him well; 130\n And, as once more he stood before him, he spake, 'List thou\n well, Sir Knight,\n I will tell thee how thou shalt bear thee, and guard thee thy\n life in fight:'\n\n 'My shield shalt thou carry with thee! Of war shall it bear\n no trace\n For but seldom I strive in battle, nor I count it me as\n disgrace.\n When thou comest, Sir Knight, to the castle, do this, it\n shall serve thy steed: 135\n At the doorway a merchant sitteth, buy of him that which thou\n shalt need,\n Then give him thy steed, he will hold it, nor care thou what\n thou shalt buy,\n As a pledge will he hold thy charger, and will give it thee\n joyfully\n If unhurt from the Burg thou comest!' Quoth Gawain, 'Say,\n shall I not ride?'\n 'Nay, nay, for sore peril neareth, and the maidens their\n faces hide!' 140\n\n 'Thou shalt find that fair palace lonely, deserted by great\n and small,\n And no token of living creature shalt thou see in that\n stately hall.\n And may God's grace watch o'er thy footsteps, and His\n blessing go with thine hand\n When thou comest into the chamber where the \"Lit Merveil\"\n shall stand.\n And the couch, and the rollers beneath it, in Morocco they\n first were made 145\n For the Ruler of all the Faithful; and were it in the balance\n weighed\n 'Gainst all treasures of crown and kingdom it still would\n outweigh them all.\n And I wot, there shall ill o'ertake thee, and God knoweth\n what shall befall,\n But I pray that the end be joyful! Yet hearken, Sir Knight,\n to me,\n This sword and this shield that thou holdest, in thine hand\n must they ever be, 150\n For surely when thou shalt think thee that the peril hath\n done its worst,\n Then _first_ mayst thou look for conflict, and _then_ shall\n the storm-cloudburst!'\n\n Then mournful I ween was the maiden, as Gawain to the saddle\n sprung,\n And all they who stood around her they wept and their hands\n they wrung,\n Then he quoth to his host, 'God grant me that hereafter I may\n repay 115\n The care and the kindly counsel I have won from thy lips\n to-day.'\n Then leave did he pray of the maiden, and her sorrow was sore\n to see,\n He rode hence, and they whom he left here they mourned for\n him bitterly.\n And now, if ye fain would hearken what unto Gawain befell,\n The tale of his wondrous venture right gladly to ye I'll\n tell. 160\n\n And in this wise I heard the story--As he came to the castle\n gate,\n A merchant with merchandise costly without did his coming\n wait.\n And so rich were his wares, and precious, that in sooth I\n were glad at heart\n If I, in so great a treasure, my portion might bear and part.\n Then, Sir Gawain, he sprang from his charger, for ne'er had\n he seen before 165\n Outspread in the open market such goods as were here in\n store.\n And the booth was of velvet fashioned, four-square, and both\n wide and high,\n And that which lay there for purchase no monarch might\n lightly buy.\n The Baruch of Bagdad scarcely had paid that which lay\n therein;\n Nor the Patriarch of Rankulat might think him such prize to\n win. 170\n Yea, and great as shall be the treasure that was found but\n awhile ago\n In the land of the Greeks yet their Emperor such riches might\n hardly know!\n And e'en if these twain had helped him the price he had\n failed to pay\n That a man must count for the treasure that here before\n Gawain lay.\n\n Then the knight greeted well the merchant as he looked on the\n wondrous store 175\n Of marvels that lay before him, but he stayed not to turn it\n o'er,\n But bade him show clasp and girdle; then he quoth to the hero\n bold,\n 'For many a year have I sat here, yet no man doth my wares\n behold;\n None but ladies have looked upon them! yet if manhood shall\n nerve thine hand\n Of all here shalt thou be the master; they were brought from\n a distant land, 180\n If here thou shalt be the victor, (for in sooth hast thou\n come for fight,)\n And the venture shall well betide thee, I will deal with thee\n well, Sir Knight!\n For all that my booth containeth is thine if thou win the\n day!\n So trust thou in God and His mercy, and take to the Burg thy\n way.\n Plippalin\u00f2t in sooth hath sent thee, and thy coming well\n praised shall be 185\n Of many a gracious maiden if thy prowess shall set her free!'\n\n 'Now wouldst thou withstand this venture leave here for\n awhile thy steed,\n If thou trust it unto my keeping, I will give to the charge\n good heed.'\n Quoth Gawain, 'Yea, I'll gladly do so, if unseemly be not the\n task,\n Too greatly I fear thy riches such grace from thine hand to\n ask, 190\n For ne'er since I rode upon it such keeper my steed hath\n known'--\n Out quoth the merchant freely, 'Sir Knight, all shall be\n thine own,\n Myself, and the wares I guard here, (nor further of them I'll\n speak,)\n They are his, who in safety faceth the danger thou here dost\n seek!'\n\n And so bold was I ween the hero that on foot did he go\n straightway, 195\n Undaunted, to face the peril untold that before him lay.\n And, as I before have told ye, the Burg it stood high and\n wide,\n And its bulwarks so stoutly builded did guard it on either\n side.\n If for thirty years they stormed it, not a berry or leaf\n would yield,\n However the foe might threaten; in the midst was a grassy\n field, 200\n (Yet the Lechfeld I ween is longer,) many turrets they\n towered on high,\n And the story it tells that Gawain, as the palace he did\n espy,\n Saw the roof shine all many-coloured, as peacock's plumes its\n glow,\n And so bright it was that its glory was dimmed nor by rain\n nor snow.\n\n And within was it richly furnished, and decked to delight the\n eye, 205\n And the pillars were richly carven, and the windows were\n arched on high,\n And many a fair couch costly had they set there against the\n wall,\n Nor touched they the one to the other, and rich covers lay\n over all.\n And but now had the maidens sat there, but each one had taken\n thought,\n And no one of them all remained there, and of welcome Gawain\n found naught. 210\n Yet their joy came again with his coming, and the day of\n their bliss was he,\n And 'twere well they had looked upon him, none fairer their\n eyes might see.\n Yet none there might dare behold him, tho' to serve them he\n aye was fain,\n And yet in this thing were they guiltless--Thro' the palace\n strode knight Gawain,\n And he looked on this side and the other, and he sought well\n the chamber o'er, 215\n If to left or to right I know not, but he saw there an open\n door,\n And wherever that door might lead him the hero was fain to\n go,\n If high fame he might gain for his seeking, or die there a\n death of woe!\n\n So stepped he within the chamber, and behold! the shining\n floor,\n As glass it lay smooth beneath him, and the Lit-Merveil he\n saw, 220\n The wonder-couch; and beneath it four rollers as crystal\n clear,\n And fashioned of fire-red rubies: as the swift wind afar and\n near\n Did it speed o'er the shining pavement, no floor might fairer\n be,\n Chrysolite, sardius, jasper, inwrought there the eye might\n see.\n For so had Klingsor willed it, and the thought it was his\n alone, 225\n From far-off lands his magic had brought to the Burg each\n stone.\n\n So smooth 'neath his feet the pavement, scarce might be his\n footing hold,\n Then fain would he seek the venture, but, so is the marvel\n told,\n As ever he stood before it the couch from its station fled,\n And swift as the winds of heaven o'er the glittering floor it\n sped. 230\n (And Gawain he found all too heavy the shield that his hand\n gripped fast,\n And yet did his host give counsel it should ne'er on one side\n be cast.)\n Thought Gawain, 'Now, how may I reach thee, since still thou\n dost fly from me?\n Methinks thou shalt have a lesson, it may be I may spring to\n thee!'\n Then still stood the couch before him, and straight from the\n ground he leapt 235\n And stood firm in the midst of the marvel, and again o'er the\n floor it swept,\n And hither and thither turning in the four walls its goal it\n found,\n And blow upon blow fell swiftly, till the Burg echoed back\n the sound.\n\n And many a charge did he ride there, with crash, as of\n thunder-cloud,\n Or as trumpeters blow together when their blasts thro' the\n hall ring loud, 240\n And the one vieth with the other, and each for a fair prize\n blows.\n Less loud should have been their tumult than the tumult that\n there arose!\n And waken and watch must Sir Gawain, altho' on a bed he lay.\n How best might the hero guard him? The noise he was fain to\n stay,\n And his head with his shield he covered--There he lay, and\n would wait His will 245\n Who hath help in His power, and helpeth all those who entreat\n Him still,\n And shutteth His ear to no man who in sorrow for aid doth\n pray.\n And the man who is wise and steadfast, as dawneth his\n sorrow's day,\n Doth call on the hand of the Highest, that shall ne'er be too\n short to reach,\n And the aid that shall meet their lacking He sendeth to all\n and each. 250\n And so was it now with Gawain--Thro' Whose grace he had\n gotten fame,\n He called on His power and His mercy to shelter him here from\n shame.\n\n Then stilled for a space the clamour--The couch stood within\n the hall,\n And an equal space had they measured from its station to\n either wall.\n Yet now waxed his peril greater, for five hundred missiles,\n swung 255\n With craft from hands yet hidden, were against Sir Gawain\n flung.\n And they fell on the couch as he lay there; but the shield it\n was hard and new,\n And it sheltered him well, and I think me of the blows did he\n feel but few.\n And the stones were as river pebbles, so heavy, and hard, and\n round,\n And in many a place on the surface of the shield might their\n trace be found. 260\n\n At length was the stone-shower ended, and never before he\n knew\n Such sharp and such heavy missiles as those which toward him\n flew.\n For now full five hundred cross-bows were bended, their bolts\n they sped,\n And each one was aimed at the hero as he lay on the\n Wonder-Bed.\n (And he who hath faced such peril in sooth he of darts may\n tell:) 265\n Yet their wrath was soon spent, and silence for awhile on the\n chamber fell.\n And he who would seek for comfort he ne'er on such couch\n should lie!\n Little solace or rest may he find there, but peace from his\n face shall fly!\n And youth would wax grey and ag\u00e8d, if such comfort should be\n its share\n As fell to the lot of Gawain, when he lay on that couch so\n fair. 270\n Yet nor weariness nor terror had weakened or hand or heart,\n Tho' the stones and the bolts of the cross-bow had done on\n his limbs their part,\n And spite of both shield and corslet, sore bruis\u00e8d and cut\n was he:\n And he thought that, this peril ended, the venture should\n ended be--\n But yet with his hand must he battle, and the prize of the\n victor win, 275\n For a doorway e'en now flew open, and one trode the hall\n within;\n And the man was a mighty peasant, and fearful of face, and\n grim,\n And the hide of the grey sea-otter was his covering on head\n and limb,\n And his hosen were wide, and he carried a club in his strong\n right hand,\n And 'twas thicker I ween than a pitcher that round-bellied\n doth firmly stand. 280\n\n So came he unto Sir Gawain, (and his coming it pleased him\n ill,)\n Yet he thought, 'He doth bear no harness, mine arms shall\n withstand him still,'\n Upright on the couch he sat him, as nor terror nor pain he\n knew,\n And the peasant, as he would flee him, a space from the bed\n withdrew,\n And he cried in a voice so wrathful, 'From _me_ hast thou\n naught to fear, 285\n Yet such peril I'll loose upon thee that thy life must thou\n buy full dear;\n The devil himself doth aid thee, else wert thou not still in\n life,\n Bethink thee, for death cometh swiftly, and the ending of all\n thy strife,\n No more can the devil shield thee, that I tell thee ere hence\n I pass!'\n Then he gat him once more thro' the doorway, and Gawain\n gripped his sword-hilt fast, 290\n And the shafts did he smite asunder of the arrows that thro'\n his shield\n Had passed, and had pierced his armour, nor yet to his hand\n would yield.\n\n Then a roar, as of mighty thunder, on the ear of Gawain did\n fall,\n As when twenty drums were sounding to dance in the castle\n hall.\n Then the hero, so firm and dauntless, whose courage ne'er\n felt the smart 295\n Of the wounds that cowardice pierceth, thought thus in his\n steadfast heart:\n 'What evil shall now befall me? Must I yet more sorrow know?\n For sorrow enow have I seen here, yet here will I face my\n foe!'\n He looked toward the peasant's doorway, and a mighty lion\n sprang thro',\n And its size was e'en that of a warhorse, and straight on\n Gawain it flew. 300\n But Gawain he was loth to fly here, and his shield he held\n fast before,\n As best for defence should serve him, and he sprang down upon\n the floor.\n And the lion was hunger-ravening, yet little should find for\n food,\n Tho' raging it sprang on the hero, who bravely its rush\n withstood.\n\n The shield it had near torn from him, with the first grip its\n talons fierce 305\n It drave thro' the wood, such hardness but seldom a beast may\n pierce.\n Yet Gawain did right well defend him, his sword-blade aloft\n he swung,\n And on three feet the beast must hold him, while the fourth\n from the shield yet hung.\n And the blood gushed forth on the pavement, and Gawain he\n firmer stood,\n And the fight raged hither and thither, as the lion, on the\n hero good, 310\n Sprang ever with snorting nostrils, and gleaming fangs and\n white--\n And if on such food they had reared it, that its meat was a\n gallant knight,\n _I_ had cared not to sit beside it! Nor such custom pleased\n Gawain well,\n Who for life or for death must fight it--and the strife ever\n fiercer fell.\n\n So sorely the beast was wounded, the chamber with blood ran\n o'er; 315\n Fierce sprang the lion upon Gawain, and would bear him unto\n the floor,\n But Gawain a sword-thrust dealt him, thro' the heart the\n swift blade sped\n Till his hand smote full on the breast-bone, and the lion at\n his feet fell dead.\n And now all the deadly peril and the conflict was over-past--\n In the same hour Gawain bethought him, 'Where now shall my\n lot be cast? 320\n Since to sit in this blood I like not, and I must of the\n couch beware,\n For it runneth a race so frantic 'twere foolish to sit me\n there!'\n\n But yet was his head so deafened with the blows that upon him\n fell,\n And many his wounds, and the life-blood did forth from its\n fountains well,\n And his strength waxed faint, and it left him, and he fell on\n the chamber floor; 325\n His head lay on the lion's body, and the shield might he hold\n no more.\n And if wisdom and power were his portion, of the twain was he\n reft I ween,\n And tho' fair was the Burg, yet within it full rough had his\n handling been.\n\n His senses forsook him wholly--no such pillow I ween was his\n As that which on Mount Ribbel\u00e9 Gymele gave to Kahenis; 330\n Both fair and wise was the maiden--and his honour he slept\n away--\n But here honour ran swift-footed to Gawain as he prostrate\n lay.\n For in sooth ye shall well have hearkened, and shall know how\n such chance befell,\n That thus lay the hero lifeless, from the first have ye heard\n it well.\n\n Then in secret one looked upon him, and the chamber with\n blood was red, 335\n And the lion alike and the hero they lay as the twain were\n dead.\n 'Twas a fair and gracious maiden who saw thro' a loop-hole\n high,\n And her face it grew wan, and the colour from her lips and\n her cheek must fly.\n And youth was so heavy-hearted that old age sore must mourn\n her tale.\n Yet Arniv\u00e9 was wise, and her wisdom did here o'er the woe\n prevail, 340\n And still for this deed must I praise her, she drew near to\n aid Gawain,\n And from peril of death she freed him who freedom for her\n would gain.\n\n Then herself she was fain to behold him, and they gazed thro'\n the window small,\n And naught might they tell, those women, of what waited them\n in the hall.\n Was it news of a joyful future? Or of woe that should last\n for aye? 345\n And the queen's heart it sore misgave her that the hero had\n died that day,\n (And the thought brought her grief and sorrow,) since he\n sought him no better bed,\n But silent he lay, and rested on the corse of the lion his\n head.\n And she spake, 'From my heart I mourn thee, if thy manhood so\n true and brave\n Hath won thee no better guerdon, and thy life thou hast\n failed to save. 350\n If death here hath been thy portion for our sake, who shall\n strangers be,\n And thy truth to such fate hath brought thee, then for ever\n I'll mourn for thee.\n And thy virtue I'll praise, tho' the counting of thy years I\n may never know!'\n And she spake to the weeping women, as they looked on the\n knight laid low,\n 'Ye maids who shall be baptiz\u00e8d, and by water have won a\n place 355\n In God's kingdom, pray ye unto Him, that He show to this hero\n grace!'\n\n Then she sent below two maidens, and she bade them to seek\n Gawain,\n And softly draw nigh unto him, nor pass from his side again\n Till they brought her full assurance how it went with the\n gallant knight,\n If perchance he should yet be living, or had found his death\n in fight. 360\n So she gave to the twain commandment--Did they weep those\n maidens fair?\n Yea, both must weep full sorely for the grief that was here\n their share,\n When they found the hero lying, for his wounds they ran with\n blood\n Till the shield in blood was swimming--then they bent o'er\n the hero good,\n And with gentle hand the helmet one loosened from off his\n head, 365\n And she saw a light foam gathered upon his lips so red,\n And she waited a space and hearkened, if perchance she might\n hear his breath,\n For but now had she thought him living, yet she deemed it\n might well be death.\n And his over-dress was of sable, and the mystic beasts it\n bore,\n Such as Ilinot the Breton as his badge with great honour\n wore. 370\n (And courage and fame were his portion from his youth till\n his dying day.)\n From the coat with her ready fingers the sable she tore away,\n And she held it before his nostrils, for thus might she\n better know\n If yet he should live, since his breathing would stir the\n hair to and fro.\n\n And the breath was yet there, and straightway she bade her\n companion bring 375\n Fair water, the gentle maiden did swift on her errand spring.\n Then the maid placed her ring so golden betwixt his teeth\n closed fast,\n And deft was her hand in the doing, and between his lips she\n passed,\n Drop by drop, e'en as he might take it, the water, and little\n space\n Ere he lifted once more his eyelids, and he looked on the\n maiden's face. 380\n And he thanked them, those two sweet children, and offered\n them service meet--\n Alas! that ye here should find me, unseemly laid at your\n feet!\n If ye will on this chance keep silence, for good will I count\n the deed,\n And courtesy shall ye honour if ye give to my words good\n heed!'\n\n Quoth the maid, 'Thou hast lain, and thou liest, as one who\n the prize doth hold, 385\n In sooth thou art here the victor and in joy shall thy life\n wax old,\n To-day is thy day of triumph! But comfort us now I pray,\n Is it so with thy wounds that, naught fearing, we may joy in\n thy joy to-day?'\n Then he quoth, 'Would ye see me living, then help shall ye\n bring to me.'\n And he prayed of those gracious maidens that a leech to his\n wounds should see, 390\n Or one who was skilled in healing, 'But if yet I must face\n the strife,\n Go ye hence, give me here my helmet, and gladly I'll guard my\n life!'\n But they spake, 'Nay, the strife is over, Sir Knight, send us\n not away,\n Yet one shall go, and the guerdon of messenger win\n straightway.\n To the four queens shall she betake her, and shall say that\n thou livest still, 395\n And a chamber shall they prepare thee, and leechcraft with\n right goodwill,\n And with salves shall thy wounds be tended, and so mild shall\n their working be\n That thy pain shall be swiftly lessened, and healing be\n brought to thee!'\n Then one of the maids sprang swiftly, and she ran with no\n halting tread,\n With the news that the knight was living straightway to the\n court she sped. 400\n 'In sooth shall he be so living, if ever it be God's will,\n Rich in joy may we be henceforward and glad without fear of\n ill,\n For naught but good help he needeth,' 'Dieu Merci!' then\n quoth they all.\n Then the old queen wise her maidens did straightway around\n her call,\n And she bade them a bed prepare him, and a carpet she spread\n before, 405\n And a fire on the hearth burnt brightly, and precious the\n salves they bore.\n And the queen with wisdom mixed them for the healing of cut\n or bruise.\n In that hour from among her women four maids did Arniv\u00e9\n choose,\n And she bade them disarm the hero, and his harness bear soft\n away,\n And with wisdom should they deal with him lest he feel\n himself shamed alway. 410\n 'A silk shall ye bear about ye, in its shadow the knight\n disarm,\n If yet he can walk he may do so, if else, bear him in your\n arms\n To where I by the bed await him, for his couch will I rightly\n care,\n If the strife in such wise hath fallen that no deadly wound\n he bear,\n Then I think me I soon may heal him, but if wounded he be to\n death 415\n Then cloven our joy--with the hero are we slain tho' we yet\n draw breath!'\n\n And all this was done as she bade them, disarmed was the\n knight Gawain,\n Then they led him where help they gave him who well knew to\n ease his pain.\n And of wounds did they find full fifty, or perchance they\n were even more,\n But the darts had not pierced too deeply since ever his\n shield he bore. 420\n Then the queen in her wisdom took her warm wine, and a sendal\n blue,\n And Dictam, the herb of healing, and she wiped with her hand\n so true\n The blood from his wounds, and she closed them, and the flow\n of the life-blood stayed.\n And wherever his helm was indented the stones on his head had\n made\n Sore bruises, yet they must vanish 'fore the salves and their\n healing power, 425\n And the master-skill of Arniv\u00e9 who tended him in that hour!\n\n And she quoth, 'Ease I well may give thee, whiles Kondrie\n doth come to me,\n And all help that may be in leechcraft of her friendship she\n telleth free.\n Since Anfortas so sore doth suffer, and they seek aid from\n far and near,\n This salve shall from death have kept him, from Monsalv\u00e4sch\n 'twas brought me here.' 430\n When Gawain heard she spake of Monsalv\u00e4sch, then in sooth was\n he glad at heart,\n For he deemed it was near--Then this hero, who ne'er had in\n falsehood part,\n Spake thus to the queen, 'Now, Lady, my senses that far were\n fled,\n Hast thou won back again, and mine anguish I ween hast thou\n minish\u00e8d,\n What of strength shall be mine, or of wisdom, I owe to thine\n hand alone, 435\n Thy servant am I!' But the queen spake, 'Sir Knight, thou\n such faith hast shown\n That we all must rejoice in thy welfare, and strive for it\n faithfully.\n But follow my rede, nor speak much, a root will I give to\n thee\n That shall win thee refreshing slumber, thou shalt care not\n for drink or meat\n Till the night, then such food I'll bring thee thou shalt\n need not ere morn to eat.' 440\n\n Then a root 'twixt his lips she laid there, and straightway\n he fell asleep,\n And throughout the day he slumbered, and in coverings they\n happed him deep.\n Rich in honour and poor in shaming, soft and warm, there in\n peace he lay,\n Yet he sneezed, and at whiles he shivered, for the salve\n wrought on him alway.\n And a company of fair women passed within and without the\n door, 445\n And fair was the light of their faces, and stately the mien\n they bore.\n And she bade them, the Queen Arniv\u00e9, that silence they all\n should keep,\n None should call, and no maiden answer, so long as the knight\n should sleep.\n And she bade them fast close the palace, nor burger, nor\n squire, nor knight,\n Should hear what had there befallen till the dawn of the\n morning light. 450\n\n But new sorrow drew nigh to the women--The knight slept till\n even grey,\n Then Arniv\u00e9 the queen in her wisdom drew the root from his\n lips away.\n And straightway he woke, and he thirsted, and they brought\n him of drink and meat,\n And he raised himself and, rejoicing, as they brought him so\n would he eat:\n And many a maid stood before him, such fair service he ne'er\n had known, 455\n So courteous their mien and bearing--then he looked at them\n one by one\n And he gazed at each and the other, yet still his desire was\n set\n On the lady Orgelus\u00e9, for ne'er saw he woman yet,\n In all the days of his lifetime, who so near to his heart did\n lie;\n Tho' many his prayer had hearkened, and _some_ did their love\n deny! 460\n Then out spake the gallant hero to Arniv\u00e9, his leech so wise,\n 'Lady, 'twill ill beseem me, nor deal I in courteous guise,\n If these ladies stand here before me, I would they might\n seated be,\n Or if such be thy will it were better shouldst thou bid them\n to eat with me!'\n 'Nay, Sir Knight, none I ween may sit here save I, the queen,\n alone, 465\n And shamed would they surely hold them were such service not\n gladly done,\n For our joy shalt thou be; yet I think me that if this be thy\n will indeed,\n Whate'er shall be thy commandment, we will give to thy words\n good heed.'\n But nobly born were those ladies, and their courtesy did they\n show,\n For all with one voice they prayed him he would e'en let the\n thing be so, 470\n And while he should eat they would stand there; so waited\n they on the guest\n And passed hence when the meal was ended and Gawain was laid\n to rest.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XII\n\nEIDEGAST\n\n\nARGUMENT\n\nIn Book XII. the poet recounts the valiant deeds done by Gawain's\nkinsmen for love's sake, and how they were as naught to the\n perils\ndared by Gawain.\n\nOf the watch-tower in the castle, and the magic pillar, and how\n Gawain\nbeheld the coming of Orgelus\u00e9 and her knight.\n\nHow Gawain fought with and overcame the Turkowit, and how he was\nurged by Orgelus\u00e9's mockery to the venture of the Perilous Ford.\nHow he plucked a bough from a tree guarded by King Gramoflanz,\n and\nwas challenged by that monarch to single combat. Of the\n repentance\nof Orgelus\u00e9, and her reconciliation with Gawain, and how both\n were\nwelcomed by the dwellers in Ch\u00e2teau Merveil. How Gawain secretly\n sent a\nsquire to the court of King Arthur bidding him, his knights and\n ladies,\nto Ioflanz to witness the combat between Gawain and Gramoflanz.\n\n BOOK XII\n\n EIDEGAST\n\n Now he who his rest had broken, if rest he perchance might\n win,\n Methinks they who hear the story had counted it him for sin.\n For, e'en as the venture telleth, sore toil had the hero\n known,\n And in sooth did he face such peril that his fame thro' all\n lands hath flown.\n Lancelot on the sword-bridge battled, and Meljakanz must sue\n for grace, 5\n Yet as naught was I ween his danger to the woe that Gawain\n must face.\n And that which is told of Garel, the valiant and knightly\n king,\n Who o'erthrew the lion 'fore the palace and made Nantes with\n his daring ring--\n And he sought the knife too, Garel, but he paid for his deed\n full dear\n In the pillar of marble--greater was the venture ye read of\n here! 10\n For the darts that were shot against Gawain, as his manly\n courage bade,\n For a mule were too great a burden if they all on its back\n were laid!\n The Perilous Ford hath its dangers; and Erec must sorrow\n know,\n When for Schoie-de-la-kurt he battled, and Mabonagrein would\n fain lay low,\n Yet ne'er had he faced such peril as fell here to knight\n Gawain. 15\n Nor Iwein, the gallant hero, who water would pour amain,\n Nor feared of the stone the venture--Were these perils all\n knit in one,\n He who knoweth to measure danger saith Gawain greater deeds\n had done!\n\n What peril is this I tell of? If ye will, I the woe will\n name,\n Or too early perchance the telling? Swift-foot Orgelus\u00e9 came, 20\n And straight to the heart of the hero hath she taken her\n silent way,\n That heart that hath ne'er known trembling, that courage hath\n ruled alway.\n And how came it so stately lady might hide in so small a\n space?\n For narrow I ween was the pathway that led to her\n resting-place.\n And all sorrow he knew aforetime was as nought to this bitter\n woe, 25\n And a low wall it was that hid her when his heart did her\n presence know\n In whose service he never faltered, but was watchful as he\n was true.\n Nor find ye here food for laughter, that one who ne'er terror\n knew,\n A hero so brave in battle, should yield to a woman's hand.\n Alas! woe is me for the marvel that no man may understand! 30\n And Frau Minne she waxeth wrathful 'gainst him who the prize\n hath won,\n Yet dauntless and brave hath she found him, and shall find\n him, till life be done.\n Who harm on a wounded foeman shall work doth his honour\n stain,\n Yet in strength 'gainst his will did Love bind him, and it\n turn\u00e8d to him for gain.\n\n Frau Minne, wouldst have men praise thee? Then this will I\n say to thee, 35\n This strife shall be not to thine honour, since sore wounded\n Gawain shall be.\n And ever throughout his life-days has he lived as thou didst\n command,\n And he followed in this his father, and the men of his\n mother's land.\n For they yielded thee loyal service since the days Mazadan\n was king,\n Who Terre-de-la-Schoie from Fay-Morgan in thy service did\n gallant bring. 40\n And this do men tell of his children, no man from his fealty\n fell.\n And Ither of Gaheviess bare it, thy badge, and he served thee\n well;\n And never in woman's presence did one speak of the hero's\n name\n But their hearts yearned in love towards him, and they spake\n it, nor thought it shame,\n How then when they looked upon him? Then the tale first was\n told aright! 45\n Frau Minne, a faithful servant didst thou lose in that\n gallant knight!\n\n Slay Gawain if thou wilt, as his cousin Ilinot by thine hand\n was slain,\n Since thy power with the bitter torment of desire did the\n knight constrain,\n Till he strove for the love of his lady all the days of his\n fair young life,\n Florie of Kanedig was she, and he served her in many a\n strife. 50\n And he fled from the land of his fathers in the days of his\n youth's unrest,\n And was reared by this queen, and Britain ne'er saw him but\n as a guest.\n And the burden of Love weighed on him, and from Florie's land\n he fled,\n Till the day that in true love's service, as I told ye, men\n found him dead.\n And often the kin of Gawain thro' love have known sorrow\n sore, 55\n And of those by Frau Minne wounded could I name to ye many\n more.\n And why did the snow and the blood-drops move Parzival's\n faithful heart?\n 'Twas his _wife_ wrought the spell, I think me! Yea, others\n have known thine art,\n Galoes and Gamuret hast thou vanquished, and in sooth hast\n thou laid them low,\n And the twain for their true love's guerdon must the death of\n a hero know. 60\n And Itonj\u00e9, Gawain's fair sister, must love Gramoflanz the\n king,\n And grieve for her love; and sorrow, Frau Minne, thou once\n didst bring\n On fair Surdamur and her lover: since thou sufferest not\n Gawain's kin\n To seek them another service, so on him wouldst thou honour\n win!\n\n Be mighty towards the mighty but here let Gawain go free, 65\n His wounds they so sorely pain him, and the hale should thy\n foemen be!\n But many have sung of love's working who never so knew love's\n power,\n For myself, I would hold me silent--But true lovers shall\n mourn this hour\n What chanced unto him of Norway, for the venture he faced\n right well,\n And now, without help or warning, love's tempest upon him\n fell! 70\n\n Quoth the hero, 'Alas, for restless my resting-place shall\n be,\n One couch did so sorely wound me, and the other hath brought\n to me\n Sore torment of love and longing! Orgelus\u00e9 must favour show\n Unto me her true knight and servant, or small joy shall my\n life-days know!'\n As unresting he turned, and he stretched him, the bands from\n his wounds were torn, 75\n So restless he lay and wakeful awaited the coming morn.\n And at last the day shone on him, and many a battlefield\n And sword-strife more rest had brought him than the rest\n which his couch might yield.\n\n Would one liken his woe unto Gawain's, and be e'en such a\n lover true,\n Of his love-wounds let him be heal\u00e8d, and then smitten by\n darts anew, 80\n And methinks he shall find that the sorrow and torment shall\n vex him more\n Than all the sum of the sorrow he hath borne for love's sake\n before!\n\n Nor love's torments alone vexed Gawain--Ever clearer it grew,\n the light,\n Till dark seemed the lofty tapers that erstwhile had shone so\n bright.\n Then up sprang from his couch the hero, and as blood, and as\n iron, red 85\n With wounds, and with rust, was his linen, yet beside him he\n saw outspread\n Hosen and shirt of woollen, and the change pleased our hero\n well,\n And robes lined with fur of the marten, and a garment that\n o'er them fell,\n (In Arras its stuff was woven, and from Arras 'twas hither\n sent,)\n And boots had they lain beside it, none too narrow for his\n content. 90\n\n In these garments anew he clothed him, and forth from the\n chamber went\n Gawain, and hither and thither his steps thro' the palace\n bent,\n Till he found the hall of his venture, no riches he e'er had\n known\n To liken unto the glories within this fair castle shown.\n And there at one side of the palace a narrow dome he found, 95\n And it rose high above the building, and a staircase within\n it wound,\n And above stood a shining pillar; nor of wood was it shapen\n fair,\n But so large and so strong that the coffin of Kamilla it well\n might bear.\n And Klingsor, the wise, he brought it from the kingdom of\n Feirefis,\n And his cunning and skill had fashioned both the hall and the\n stair I wis! 100\n\n No tent might so round be fashioned; did the Master Geometras\n will\n To raise such a work he had fail\u00e8d, for unknown to his hand\n the skill.\n 'Twas magic alone that wrought it--The venture it bids us\n know\n Of diamond, amethyst, topaz, carbuncle with red-fire glow,\n Of chrysolite, emerald, ruby, and sardius, the windows tall, 105\n That each one like to the other encircled this wondrous hall.\n And rich as the window columns, and carven, the roof\n o'erhead,\n And herein was a greater marvel than all marvels ye yet have\n read;\n\n For, the vault below, no pillar was like to that column fair\n That stood in the midst of the circle, and wondrous the power\n it bare, 110\n For so the venture telleth--Gawain fain would gaze around,\n And alone did he climb the watch-tower, and precious the\n jewels he found.\n And he saw there a greater wonder, and the sight never vexed\n his eye,\n For he thought him upon the column all the lands of the earth\n did lie.\n And he saw the countries circle, and the mighty mountains'\n crest 115\n Meet, e'en as two hosts in battle, as one vision the other\n pressed.\n And folk did he see in the pillar, and on horse or afoot they\n went,\n They ran, and they stood: in a window he sat him on seeing\n bent.\n\n Came the ag\u00e8d Queen Arniv\u00e9, with Sangiv\u00e9 her child, and there\n Were two maidens, the gentle daughters that Sangiv\u00e9 erewhile\n did bear. 120\n And the four queens they came unto Gawain, and he saw them\n and sprang upright;\n And thus quoth the Queen Arniv\u00e9, 'Methinks thou shouldst\n sleep, Sir Knight,\n For though rest may no longer please thee, thou art wounded\n too sore, I trow,\n That thou further toil and labour shouldst yet for a season\n know!'\n Quoth the knight, 'Lady mine and my mistress, since thy\n wisdom hath brought to me 125\n My wit, and my strength, all my lifetime thy servant I fain\n would be!'\n\n Quoth the queen, 'If I so may read them, the words thou didst\n speak but now,\n And thou ownest me as thy mistress, then Sir Knight, to my\n bidding bow,\n And kiss at my will these ladies, as thou mayest, without\n thought of shame,\n Since nor mother nor maid before thee but a kingly birth may\n claim!' 130\n Then glad was Gawain at her bidding, and he kissed those\n ladies three,\n And Sangiv\u00e9 was first, then Itonj\u00e9, and the third was the\n fair Kondrie.\n And the five sat them down together, and Gawain saw those\n maidens twain,\n Their face and their form so gracious, and he looked, and he\n looked again;\n Yet one woman so worked upon him, for yet in his heart she\n lay, 135\n That their beauty by Orgelus\u00e9's he deemed but a cloudy day.\n For he held with the Lady of Logrois none other might well\n compare,\n And his heart and his thoughts were captive to this lady so\n sweet and fair.\n\n Now 'twas done, and Gawain had been greeted with a kiss by\n those ladies three,\n And so fair were they all that I wot well their beauty would\n fatal be 140\n To a heart that was yet unwounded--Then he spake to the elder\n queen,\n And he prayed her to tell of the pillar, and the marvels he\n there had seen.\n\n Quoth Arniv\u00e9, 'By day and by night-time that pillar, I ween,\n doth throw\n Its light for six miles around it, so long as its power I\n know.\n And all that within that circuit doth chance on its face we\n see, 145\n In water, or on the meadow, and true shall the vision be.\n The bird and the beast we see here, the guest and the woodman\n true,\n He who to this land is a stranger, or its ways of aforetime\n knew.\n Yea, all may we find within it, and it shineth for six miles\n round;\n And so fast and so firm it standeth none moveth it from the\n ground, 150\n And no hammer shall ever harm it, and no smith hath, I ween,\n the skill.\n 'Twas stolen from Queen Sekundill\u00e9, I think me, against her\n will!'\n\n Now Gawain he saw at this moment on the column a goodly pair,\n A knight with a lady riding, and he thought him the maid was\n fair,\n And clearly and well he saw them--and armed were both steed\n and knight, 155\n And his helmet was plumed and jewelled, and it gleamed in the\n morning light.\n And they rode at a hasty gallop thro' the defile out on the\n plain:\n Tho' I wot well he little knew it, yet they rode but to seek\n Gawain!\n\n And they came by the self-same pathway that Lischois he rode\n afore,\n The proud knight whom Gawain had vanquished, and in joust\n from his charger bore. 160\n And the lady she held the bridle of the knight who to joust\n would ride,\n And the sight to Gawain brought sorrow, and swiftly he turned\n aside,\n And behold! 'twas no lying vision, for without on the grassy\n plain\n By the river rode Orgelus\u00e9, and a knight at her side drew\n rein.\n E'en as hellebore within the nostril pierceth sharp, and a\n man doth sneeze, 165\n Thro' his eye to his heart came the Duchess, and she robbed\n him of joy and ease!\n\n Alas! I wot well 'gainst Frau Minne all helpless shall be\n Gawain--\n Then he looked on the knight who rode there, and he spake to\n the queen again,\n 'Lady, a knight I see there, who rideth with well-aimed\n spear,\n Nor will cease from the goal he seeketh--Well! I ween he may\n find it here, 170\n Since he craveth some deed of knighthood I am ready with him\n to fight,\n But say, who shall be the maiden?' she quoth, ''Tis the lady\n bright\n Who is Duchess and queen of Logrois,--Now 'gainst whom doth\n she bear ill-will?\n For the Turkowit rideth with her, and unconquered shall he be\n still.\n With his spear such fame hath he won him, as were riches for\n kingdoms three, 175\n And against a hand so valiant 'twere best not to venture\n thee;\n For strife is it all too early, and thou shalt be hurt too\n sore,\n And e'en wert thou whole I should rede thee to strive with\n him nevermore!'\n Quoth Gawain, 'If indeed I be lord here then he who so near\n shall seek\n Deeds of knighthood, shall shame mine honour if vengeance I\n fail to wreak. 180\n Since he lusteth for strife, O Lady, thou shalt give me mine\n armour here!'\n Then the ladies, the four, bewailed them with many a bitter\n tear:\n And they quoth, 'Wilt thou deck thy glory? wilt thou greater\n honour know?\n Strive not now, shouldst thou fall before him then greater\n shall wax our woe.\n But e'en if thou be the victor, if thou girdest thine harness\n on 185\n Thou must die who so sore art wounded, and with thee are we\n all undone!'\n\n Gawain, he was sorely anguished, and the cause have ye heard\n aright,\n For he counted himself dishonoured by the coming of such a\n knight\n And his wounds, they must sorely pain him, yet love's torment\n it vexed him more,\n And the grief of these four fair ladies, and the love they\n towards him bore. 190\n Then he bade them to cease from weeping, and harness and\n sword he craved,\n And his charger; and those fair women they led forth the hero\n brave.\n And he bade them go forth before him, and adown the steps\n they wind\n To the hall where the other maidens so sweet and so fair they\n find.\n\n Then Gawain for his perilous journey was armed 'neath the\n light of eyes 195\n Tear-dimmed, and they secret held it, and none knew save the\n merchant wise.\n And they bade him the steed make ready, and the hero he\n slowly stept\n To the place where his charger waited--nor light on its back\n he leapt,\n But scarcely his shield might he carry, for in sooth was he\n wounded sore.\n And thro' centre and rim was it pierc\u00e8d, and traces of battle\n bore! 200\n\n Then again he bestrode his charger, and he turned from the\n Burg away,\n And he rode to his host so faithful; and never he said him\n Nay,\n But all that he asked he gave him, a spear both strong and\n new,\n (Many such had, I ween, been his tribute from that plain\n where they jousted true,)\n Then Gawain bade him ship him over, in a ferry they sought\n the shore, 205\n And the Turkowit, who high courage and the thought of sure\n victory bore;\n For so well against shame was he arm\u00e8d that ill-deeds from\n before him fled,\n And his fame was so high accounted, that they made of the\n sward their bed\n Who would ride a joust against him--From their charger they\n needs must fall,\n And of those who had faced his valour, his spear had\n o'erthrown them all. 210\n And this was the rule of the hero, that by spear-thrust, and\n no sword-blade,\n Would he win to him fame in battle, or his honour be\n prostrate laid.\n And to him who should face his onslaught, and o'erthrow him,\n the self-same day\n Would he yield, nor defend him further, but would give him\n his pledge straightway.\n\n And thus heard Gawain the story from him who the pledge did\n hold, 215\n For his pledge Plippalin\u00f2t took there, when the tale of the\n joust was told.\n Did one fall while the other sat still, with goodwill of the\n heroes twain\n Did he take that which one must forfeit, and the other\n methinks should gain,\n Of the charger I speak, hence he led it, for he deemed they\n enough had fought.\n Who was victor, and who the vanquished, from the Burg were\n the tidings brought, 220\n For the women, they looked on the jousting, and many a\n conflict saw.\n Then he bade Gawain seat him firmly, and the charger he led\n to shore,\n And his shield and his spear he gave him--and the Turkowit\n swiftly came\n As one who his joust can measure, nor too high nor too low\n his aim.\n And Gawain turned his horse against him--of Monsalv\u00e4sch,\n Gringuljet, 225\n And it answered unto the bridle, and his spear 'gainst the\n foe he set.\n\n Now forward!--the joust be ridden--Here rideth King Lot's\n fair son,\n Undaunted his heart--Now know ye where the helm hath its\n fastening won?\n For there did his foeman strike him; but Gawain sought\n another aim,\n And swift thro' the helmet's visor with sure hand the\n spear-point came, 230\n And plain to the sight of all men was the fate of the joust\n that day,\n On his spear short and strong the helmet from his head Gawain\n bare away,\n And onward it rode, the helmet! But the knight on the grass\n lay low,\n Who was blossom and flower of all manhood till he met with\n such mighty foe.\n But now he in joust was vanquished, and the jewels from his\n helm were seen 235\n To vie with the dew on the herbage and the flowers on the\n meadow green.\n And Gawain, he rode back unto him, and his pledge did he take\n that day,\n And the boatman he claimed the charger, who was there should\n say him Nay?\n\n Thou art joyful, and yet hast small reason,' spake the lady\n of Gawain's love,\n (As of old were her words of mocking,) 'Since wherever thy\n shield doth move 240\n The lion's paw doth follow--And thou thinkest fresh fame to\n gain\n Since the ladies have looked on thy jousting---Well thou\n mayst in thy bliss remain,\n Since the Lit Merveil hath dealt gently and but little harm\n hath wrought!\n And yet is thy shield all splintered as if thou hadst bravely\n fought--\n Thou art doubtless too sorely wounded to yearn for a further\n fray? 245\n And such ill to the 'Goose' be reckoned, that I called thee\n but yesterday.\n So eager wert thou to vaunt thee, as a sieve hast thou\n pierc\u00e8d thro'\n Thy shield, one would deem it riddled with the darts that\n toward thee flew.\n But _to-day_ mayst thou well shun danger--If thy finger shall\n wounded be\n Ride hence to the maids of the castle, for well will they\n care for thee! 250\n Far other strife were _his_ portion, to whom I a task would\n give,\n Did thine heart yet yearn for my favour, and thou wouldst in\n my service live!'\n\n Quoth Gawain to the Duchess, 'Lady, tho' deep were my wounds\n I trow\n They ere this have found help and healing--If such help I\n from thee might know\n That thou, gracious, wouldst own my service, no peril would\n be so great, 255\n But I, for thy love and rewarding, the issue would gladly\n wait!'\n Quoth she, 'Then shalt thou ride with me new honour perchance\n to gain!'\n Then rich in all joy and contentment was that valiant knight\n Gawain--\n And the Turkowit went with the boatman, and he bade him the\n tidings bear\n To the Burg, and there pray the maidens to have of the knight\n good care. 260\n\n And his spear it was yet unsplintered, tho' both horses they\n spurred amain\n To joust, his right hand yet held it, and he bare it from off\n the plain.\n And many a maiden saw him, and wept as he rode away.\n Quoth Arniv\u00e9, 'Our joy and comfort hath chosen to him to-day\n A joy for the eyes and a sorrow for the heart, yea, both\n flower and thorn, 265\n Alas! that he rides with the Duchess, since he leaveth us\n here forlorn.\n To the Perilous Ford he rideth, and his wounds sure shall\n work him ill!'\n (Maids four hundred must weep for his going, yet new tasks\n would he fain fulfil.)\n\n But yet tho' his wounds they pained him, his sorrow had taken\n flight\n When he looked upon Orgelus\u00e9, so fair was her mien and\n bright. 270\n Then she quoth, 'Thou shalt win me a garland of fresh leaves\n from off a tree,\n And I for the gift will praise thee--If thou doest this deed\n for me\n Thou shalt find in my love rewarding!' Then he quoth,\n 'Wheresoe'er it stand,\n The tree that shall bring such blessing as reward unto this\n mine hand,\n If I not in vain bemoan me, but win hearing for this my\n grief, 275\n Then thy garland, tho' death it bring me, shall lack not a\n single leaf!'\n\n And tho' many a blossom bloomed there yet their colour it was\n as naught\n To the colour of Orgelus\u00e9, and Gawain on her beauty thought\n Till it seemed him his grief of aforetime and his anguish had\n fled away--\n And thus with her guest did she journey a space from the Burg\n that day, 280\n And the road it was straight and easy, and it led thro' a\n forest fair,\n And Tamris I ween and Prisein were the names that the trees\n did bear,\n And the lord of the wood was Klingsor--Then Gawain the hero\n spake,\n 'Say, where shall that garland blossom which the spell of my\n grief shalt break?'\n\n (In sooth he had best o'erthrown her, as oft shall have\n chanced I trow 285\n To many a lovely lady.) Then she quoth, 'Thou shalt see the\n bough\n Whose plucking shall win thee honour!' O'er the field ran a\n deep ravine,\n And so near did they ride to the chasm that the tree from\n afar was seen.\n Then she quoth, 'Now, Sir Knight, one guardeth that tree who\n my joy hath slain,\n If thou bring me a bough from off it, no hero such prize\n shall gain 290\n As from me shall be thy rewarding! And here must I hold my\n way,\n Nor further may I ride with thee; but make thou no more\n delay,\n God have thee in His safe keeping! Thine horse must thou\n straightway bring\n To the gulf, and with sure hand urge it o'er the Perilous\n Ford to spring.'\n\n So still on the plain she held her, and on rode the gallant\n knight, 295\n And he hearkened the rush of water that had riven a path with\n might\n Thro' the plain--it was deep as a valley, and no man its\n waves might ford;\n Then Gawain spurred his steed towards it, and he sprung o'er\n the flood so broad,\n And yet but the charger's fore-feet might light on the\n further side,\n And they fell in the foaming torrent; and the lady in anguish\n cried, 300\n For swift and wide was the water; yet Gawain he had strength\n enow,\n Tho' heavy the weight of his armour, for he saw where there\n grew a bough\n That hung o'er the foaming torrent, and he grasped it, for\n life was dear,\n And he gained on the bank a footing, and he drew from the\n waves his spear.\n\n Up and down the stream swam the charger, and Gawain to its\n aid would go, 305\n Yet so swift was the rush of the water he followed with pain\n its flow,\n For heavy I ween his harness, and his wounds they were deep\n and sore:\n Then he stretched out his spear as a whirlpool bare the\n charger towards the shore--\n For the rain and the rush of the waters had broken a passage\n wide,\n And the bank at the place was shelving, and the steed swept\n towards the side-- 310\n And he caught with the spear its bridle, and drew it towards\n the land\n Till the hero at last might reach it and lay on the rein his\n hand.\n\n And Gawain, the gallant hero, drew his horse out upon the\n plain,\n And the steed shook itself in safety, nor the torrent as\n prize might gain\n The shield--Then he girt his charger, and the shield on his\n arm he took: 315\n And if one weepeth not for his sorrow methinks I the lack may\n brook,\n Tho' in sooth was he in sore peril--For love he the venture\n dared,\n For the fair face of Orgelus\u00e9, his hand to the bough he\n bared.\n And I wot, 'twas a gallant journey, and the tree it was\n guarded well,\n He was _one_, were he _twain_, for that garland his life must\n the payment tell. 320\n King Gramoflanz, he would guard it, yet Gawain he would pluck\n the bough.\n The water, men called it Sabbins, and the tribute was harsh\n enow\n That Gawain would fetch when both charger and knight did the\n wild waves breast.\n Tho' the lady was fair, _I_ had wooed not! To shun her\n methinks were best.\n\n When Gawain erst the bough had broken and its leaves in his\n helm did wave, 325\n Uprode a knight towards him, and his bearing was free and\n brave.\n Nor too few were his years nor too many; and in this he his\n pride had shown,\n What evil so e'er befell him he fought not with _one_ alone,\n _Two_ or more must they be, his foemen! So high beat his\n gallant heart,\n That whate'er _one_ might do to harm him unscathed might he\n thence depart. 330\n To Gawain this son of King Ir\u00f4t a fair 'good-morrow' gave,\n 'Twas King Gramoflanz--'To the garland that doth there in\n thine helmet wave\n I yield not my claim!' thus quoth he, 'Sir Knight, were ye\n _two_ I trow,\n Who here for high honour seeking had reft from my tree a\n bough,\n I had greeted ye not, but had fought ye, but since thou alone\n shalt be, 335\n Thou canst ride hence, for strife unequal I deem it a shame\n to me!'\n\n And Gawain, too, was loth to fight him, for no armour the\n king did wear,\n And naught but a yearling falcon he did on his white hand\n bear.\n (And the sister of Gawain gave it, Itonj\u00e9 the maid was\n hight.)\n His headgear in Sinzester fashioned was of peacock's plumage\n bright, 340\n And green as grass was the mantle of velvet that wrapped him\n round,\n And with ermine lined, and on each side it swept even unto\n the ground.\n\n None too tall yet strong was the charger on which the king\n did ride,\n From Denmark by land they brought it, or it came o'er the\n waters wide.\n And the monarch he rode unarm\u00e8d, nor even a sword would bear. 345\n Quoth King Gramoflanz, 'Thou hast foughten, if thy shield may\n the truth declare,\n For but little unharmed remaineth, and it seemeth sure to me\n That the \"Lit Merveil\" was thy portion, and this venture hath\n fallen to thee!'\n\n 'Now hast thou withstood the peril that myself I were fain to\n dare,\n Had not Klingsor been ever friendly, and warfare with her my\n share 350\n Who in Love's strife is ever victor, since her beauty doth\n win the day;\n And she beareth fierce wrath against me, and in sooth hath\n she cause alway!\n Eidegast have I slain, her husband, and with him I slew\n heroes four;\n Orgelus\u00e9 herself, as my captive, I thence to my kingdom bore,\n And my crown and my land would I give her, yet what service\n my hand might yield, 355\n\n Of all would she naught, but with hatred her heart 'gainst my\n pleading steeled.\n And a whole year long I held her, and a whole year long I\n prayed,\n Yet never she hearkened to me, and ever my love gainsaid.\n And thus from my heart I bemoan me, since I know that her\n love to thee\n She hath promised, since here I meet thee, and death wouldst\n thou bring to me. 360\n If with _her_ thou hadst hither ridden, perchance had I here\n been slain,\n Or perchance ye had died together--such guerdon thy love\n might gain!'\n\n 'And my heart other service seeketh, and mine aid lieth in\n thine hand,\n Since here thou hast been the victor thou art lord o'er this\n wonder-land;\n And if thou wilt show me kindness help me now a fair maid to\n win 365\n For whose sake my heart knoweth sorrow, to King Lot is she\n near of kin,\n And no maiden of all earth's maidens hath wrought me such\n grief and pain!\n Her token I bear--I prithee, if thou seest that maid again\n Swear thou to her faithful service--I think me she means me\n fair,\n And for her sake I fight, for her favour I many a peril dare; 370\n For since with true words Orgelus\u00e9 her love hath denied to\n me,\n Wherever for fame I battled, whate'er might my portion be,\n Of joy or of grief, _she_ hath caused it, Itonj\u00e9, for whom I\n fight,\n Yet alas! I have ne'er beheld her! Now do me this grace, Sir\n Knight,\n If aid thou art fain to give me, then take thou this golden\n ring, 375\n And unto my lovely lady, I prithee, the token bring.\n Thou art free from strife, I fight not till thou bring with\n thee two or more.\n What honour were mine if I slew thee? I ever such strife\n forbore!'\n\n 'Yet in sooth I can well defend me, as a man should,' quoth\n knight Gawain,\n 'Thou thinkest small fame will it bring thee if I here at\n thine hand be slain, 380\n But what honour shall _I_ have won me by breaking this bough,\n I pray?\n For none will account it glory if I slay thee unarmed to-day!\n But yet will I do thy message--Give me here the finger-ring,\n And thy sorrow of heart, and thy service, I will to thy lady\n bring.'\n Then the king he thanked him freely--But Gawain he quoth in\n this wise, 385\n 'Now tell me, Sir Knight, who may he be who doth conflict\n with me despise?'\n\n 'An thou count it me not for dishonour,' quoth the king,\n 'here my name be told,\n King Ir\u00f4t he was my father, who was slain by King Lot of old.\n And King Gramoflanz do men call me, and my heart doth such\n valour know\n That never, for evil done me, will I fight with but one for\n foe, 390\n Saving one man alone, hight Gawain, of _him_ have I heard\n such fame\n That to fight with him I am ready, and vengeance from him I\n claim.\n For his father he dealt with treason, in fair greeting my\n father slew,\n Good cause have I here for mine anger and the words that I\n speak are true.\n Now dead is King Lot, and Gawain, his fame o'er all knights\n stands high 395\n Of the Table Round, and I yearn still till the day of our\n strife draw nigh.'\n\n Then out quoth King Lot's son dauntless, 'Wouldst pleasure\n thy lady still,\n If indeed she shall be thy lady, and dost speak of her father\n ill?\n And reckonest to him false treason, and her brother art fain\n to slay!\n Then indeed must she be false maiden if she mourn not thy\n deeds alway! 400\n If true daughter she were, and sister, for the twain would\n she surely speak,\n And forbid thee, methinks, thine hatred on kinsmen so near to\n wreak.\n If so be that thy true love's father hath broken his troth,\n yet thou\n Shouldst, as kinsman, avenge the evil that men spake of the\n dead, I trow!\n His _son_ will not fear to do so, and little methinks he'll\n care 405\n If small aid in his need he findeth from the love of his\n sister fair.\n He, himself, will be pledge for his father, and his sin be\n upon _my_ head,\n For Sir King, I who speak am Gawain, and thou warrest not\n with the dead!\n But I, from such shame to free him, what honour be mine or\n fame,\n In strife will I give to the scourging ere thou slander my\n father's name!' 410\n\n Quoth the king, 'Art thou he whom I hated with a hatred as\n yet unstilled?\n For alike with both joy and sorrow thy valour my soul hath\n filled.\n And _one_ thing in thee doth please me, that at last I may\n fight with thee,\n And I rede thee to wit that great honour in this hast thou\n won from me,\n Since I vowed but to fight with thee only--And our fame shall\n wax great alway, 415\n If many a lovely lady we bring to behold the fray.\n For I can bring fifteen hundred, and thou art of a fair host\n king\n At Ch\u00e2teau Merveil; and on thy side thine uncle can others\n bring\n From the land that he rules, King Arthur, and L\u00f6ver its name\n shall be,\n And the city is Bems by the Korka, as well shall be known to\n thee. 420\n There lieth he now with his vassals, and hither can make his\n way,\n In eight days, with great joy; so I bid thee to meet me the\n sixteenth day,\n When I come, for my wrong's avenging, to Ioflanz upon the\n plain,\n And the pay for this garland's plucking I there from thine\n hand shall gain!'\n\n Then King Gramoflanz prayed of Gawain to ride unto Rosche\n Sabbin, 425\n 'For nearer methinks than the city no way o'er the flood\n thou'lt win!'\n But out quoth the gallant Gawain, 'I will back e'en as erst I\n came,\n But in all else thy will I'll follow.' Then they sware them\n by their fair fame\n That with many a knight and lady at Ioflanz they'ld meet for\n strife\n On the chosen day, and alone there would battle for death or\n life. 430\n\n And on this wise Gawain he parted for awhile from the noble\n knight,\n And joyful he turned his bridle, and the bough decked his\n helm so bright.\n And he checked not his steed, but spurred it to the edge of\n the gulf once more,\n Nor Gringuljet missed his footing, but he sprang well the\n chasm o'er,\n And he fell not again, the hero--Then the lady she turned her\n rein 435\n As he sprang to the ground, and tightened the girths of his\n steed again,\n And swiftly to give him welcome, I ween, she to earth did\n spring,\n And low at his feet she cast her, and she spake, 'I such need\n did bring\n Upon thee, Sir Knight, as I wot well was more than thy worth\n might ask,\n And yet have I felt such sorrow, for the sorrow of this thy\n task, 440\n And the service that thou hast done me, as I deem she alone\n doth know\n Who loveth in truth, and, faithful, doth weep o'er her\n lover's woe!'\n\n Then he quoth, 'Is this truth, and thy greeting be not\n falsehood in friendly guise,\n Then _thyself_ dost thou honour, Lady! For in this shall I be\n so wise\n That I know a knight's shield claimeth honour, and thou didst\n against knighthood sin, 445\n For so high doth it stand that from no man methinks doth he\n mocking win,\n Who as true knight hath ever borne him--This, Lady, I needs\n must say,\n Whoever had looked upon me had known me for knight alway,\n Yet knighthood thou wouldst deny me when first thou my face\n didst see,\n But henceforth that may rest--Take this garland I won at thy\n will for thee, 450\n But I bid thee henceforth beware thee that never thy beauty\n bright\n Shall again in such wise mislead thee to dishonour a gallant\n knight,\n For I wot, ere such scorn and mocking again at thine hand I\n bore,\n Thy love thou shouldst give to another, I would ask for it\n nevermore!'\n\n Then she spake as she wept full sorely, that lady so sweet\n and fair, 455\n 'Sir Knight, did I tell unto thee the woe that my heart doth\n bear,\n Thou wouldst own that full sore my sorrow--If I shall\n discourteous be,\n Then he whom I wrong may forgive me of true heart with\n forgiveness free.\n For of such joy no man can rob me as the joy that I lost\n awhile\n In that knight of all knights the bravest, Eidegast, who knew\n naught of guile! 460\n So brave and so fair my true love, his fame was as sunlight's\n ray,\n And for honour he strove so truly that all others, in this\n his day,\n Both here and afar, born of woman, they owned that his praise\n stood high\n O'er that of all men, and no glory might e'er with his glory\n vie.\n A fountain, for aye upspringing, of virtue, his gallant\n youth, 465\n And falsehood ne'er shamed his honour nor darkened the light\n of truth.\n Into light came he forth from the darkness, and his honour\n aloft he bore,\n That none who spake word of treason might reach to it\n evermore.\n From the root in a true heart planted it waxed and it spread\n amain,\n Till he rose o'er all men as Saturn doth high o'er the\n planets reign. 470\n And true as the one-horned marvel, since the truth I am fain\n to tell,\n The knight of my love and desiring,--for whose fate maids may\n weep full well,\n Thro' its virtue I ween it dieth--And I, I was as his heart,\n And my body was he! Ah! woe is me, that I must from such true\n love part!\n And King Gramoflanz, _he_ slew him, the knight thou but now\n didst see, 475\n And the bough thou hast brought unto me from the tree of his\n ward shall be.'\n\n 'Sir Knight, did I ill-entreat thee, I did it for this alone,\n I would prove if thine heart were steadfast, and my love\n might to thee atone.\n I know well my words did wound thee, yet they were but to\n prove thee meant,\n And I pray thee, of this thy goodness, be thine anger with\n pity blent, 480\n And forgive me the ill I did thee. I have found thee both\n brave and true,\n As gold that is tried in the furnace shineth forth from the\n flame anew,\n So, methinks, doth it shine, thy courage. He, for whose harm\n I brought thee here,\n As I thought me afore, and I think still, his valour hath\n cost me dear.'\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'If awhile death spare me, such lesson I'll\n read the king 485\n As shall put to his pride an ending, and his life in sore\n peril bring.\n My faith as a knight have I pledged him, hereafter, a little\n space,\n To meet him in knightly combat, nor our manhood shall we\n disgrace.\n And here I forgive thee, Lady, and if thou wilt not disdain\n My counsel so rough, I'll tell thee wherewith thou mayst\n honour gain, 490\n What shall 'seem thee well as a woman, nor in aught shall\n unfitting be,\n Here we twain are alone, I pray thee show favour and grace to\n me!'\n But she quoth, 'In an arm thus mail-clad but seldom I warmly\n lay;\n Yet would I not strive against thee, thou shalt on a fitting\n day\n Win rewarding for this thy service--Thy sorrow will I bemoan, 495\n Till thou of thy wounds art heal\u00e8d and all thought of thine\n ill be flown;\n To Ch\u00e2teau Merveil I'll ride with thee.' 'Now waxeth my joy\n indeed!'\n Quoth the hero, of love desirous, and he lifted her on her\n steed,\n And close clung his arm around her: 'twas more than she\n deemed him worth\n When first by the spring she saw him, and mocked him with\n bitter mirth. 500\n\n Then joyful Gawain he rode hence; yet the lady she wept\n alway,\n And he mourned with her woe, and he prayed her the cause of\n her grief to say,\n And in God's Name to cease from weeping! Then she quoth, 'I\n must mourn, Sir Knight,\n Because of the hand that slew him, the knight of my love, in\n fight;\n For that deed to my heart brought sorrow, tho' I naught but\n delight had known 505\n When Eidegast's love rejoiced me; yet was I not so o'erthrown\n But since then I might seek his mischief, whatever the cost\n might be,\n And many fierce jousts have been ridden that were aimed at\n his life by me.\n And here, methinks, canst thou aid me, and avenge me on him,\n my foe,\n And repay me for this sore sorrow that my heart doth for ever\n know.' 510\n\n 'For the winning his death I took gladly the service he\n proffered me,\n A king, who of earthly wishes the master and lord should be,\n Sir Knight, he was named Anfortas--As his love-pledge to me\n he sent\n That which standeth without thy portals, from Tabronit it\n came, that tent,\n And great I ween is its value--But alas! for that gallant\n king, 515\n Such reward did he win in my service as all joy to an end\n must bring\n Where fain I my love had given, there must I fresh sorrow\n know,\n For bitter indeed was his guerdon!--As great, or e'en\n greater, woe\n Than the death of Eidegast brought me, was my lot thro'\n Anfortas' fate.\n Now say, how shall I, of all women most wretched, in this\n estate, 520\n If my _heart_ yet be true, be other than of senses and mind\n distraught,\n Yea, at times have I been beside me when I on Anfortas\n thought;\n After Eidegast did I choose him, my avenger and love to be--\n Now hearken and hear how Klingsor won that booth thou\n erewhile didst see:\n When it fell so the brave Anfortas, who this token had sent\n to me, 525\n Was of love and of joy forsaken, then I feared lest I shamed\n should be;\n For Klingsor, such power he wieldeth by the force of his\n magic spell,\n That maiden or man to his purpose can he force as shall\n please him well.\n All gallant folk that he seeth, unharmed may they ne'er go\n free--\n Thus my riches to him I proffered, if so be he sware peace\n with me. 530\n And he that should brave the venture, and he that should win\n the prize,\n To _him_ I my love should offer; but if so be that in his\n eyes\n My love were a thing unworthy, the booth should be mine\n again.\n But now hast thou done my bidding, and it falleth unto us\n twain;\n And 'twas sworn in the ears of many, for thereby I hoped to\n lure 535\n My foe (yet in this I fail\u00e8d) for the strife he might ne'er\n endure.'\n\n 'Now courtly and wise is Klingsor; for his honour it pleased\n him well\n That many a deed of knighthood, at my will, in his land\n befell,\n By the hand of my valiant servants, with many a thrust and\n blow.\n All the week, every day as it passes, and the weeks into\n years do grow, 540\n My troops in their changing order beset him by night and day,\n For at great cost my snares so cunning for Gramoflanz did I\n lay.\n And many have striven with him, yet must him as victor own;\n Yet I still for his life am thirsting, and at last shall he\n be o'erthrown.\n And some were too rich for my payment, and but for my love\n would serve, 545\n Then I bid them for _that_ do me service, but reward did they\n ne'er deserve.'\n\n 'And never a man beheld me but his service I swiftly won,\n Save _one_, and he bare red armour; to my folk he much ill\n had done,\n For hither he rode from Logrois, and he there did my knights\n o'erthrow\n In such wise that they fell before him, and it pleased me but\n ill I trow. 550\n And, between Logrois and thy meadow, five knights they\n followed fair,\n And he cast them to earth, and their chargers the boatman\n from thence must bear.\n Then as he my knights had vanquished, I myself did the hero\n pray\n For my love and my land to serve me, but naught would that\n red knight say,\n Save he had a wife who was fairer, and should aye to his\n heart be dear. 555\n Then wroth was I at his answer, and the name of his wife\n would hear:\n \"Wouldst thou know the name of my chosen?--She reigneth at\n Pelrap\u00e4r,\n And _Parzival_ all men call me, and naught for thy love I\n care,\n Other sorrow the Grail doth give me!\" Then in anger he rode\n away;\n Now, I prithee, here give me counsel, if evil I did that day, 560\n When I, by heart-sorrow driven, proffered love to that\n gallant knight?\n Should I count my fair fame dishonoured?' Quoth Gawain to\n that lady bright,\n 'A gallant knight is he, truly, who thus thy desire hath\n crossed,\n Had he to thy bidding hearkened no fame thou thro' him hadst\n lost!'\n\n Then Gawain, the courteous hero, and the lady his rein\n beside, 565\n Gazed lovingly on each other--and so far on their way did\n ride,\n That they drew anear to the castle, where the venture\n erewhile befell,\n And they who looked forth might see them---'Now, Lady,\n 'twould please me well\n If thou do this thing that I ask thee, from all men my name\n withhold,\n Which the knight who once stole my charger aloud in thine\n hearing told. 570\n But do this that I say, if any shall pray thee to tell my\n name,\n Say, \"I know not the name of my true knight, none spake it\n when here he came.\"'\n Then she quoth, 'I will keep it secret, since thou wouldst\n not 'twere spoken here.'\n And the knight and the lovely lady they rode to the Burg\n anear.\n\n Now the knights they had heard of the coming of one who, with\n valiant hand, 575\n Faced the venture, and slew the lion, and the Turkowit dared\n withstand,\n Yea, and had in fair joust o'erthrown him; and now on the\n flowery plain,\n The meadow of strife, rode the hero, and they looked on the\n knight Gawain,\n From the battlements could they see him; and the forces\n together draw;\n And with ringing blast of trumpet they pass thro' the castle\n door, 580\n And rich banners on high were tossing, and their steeds o'er\n the plain they flew,\n And he deemed that they came for battle, so swift they\n towards him drew.\n As Gawain from afar might see them to the lady he spake\n again,\n 'Do they come here with thought of battle?' But she quoth,\n 'They are Klingsor's men,\n From afar have they seen thy coming, and they ride their new\n lord to greet, 585\n With joy would they bid thee welcome! Refuse not this honour\n meet,\n Since 'tis gladness that doth constrain them.' There, too, in\n a vessel fair\n Plippalin\u00f2t came to meet them, and his daughter with him did\n bear;\n And swift o'er the flowery meadow the maiden towards them\n stept,\n And joyful she hailed the hero for whom she aforetime wept. 590\n\n Then Gawain gave her courteous greeting, and stirrup and foot\n she kissed,\n And she turned her to Orgelus\u00e9, nor the lady her welcome\n missed.\n And she prayed him to 'light from his charger the while that\n she held the rein,\n And then to the ship she led them, the lady and knight\n Gawain;\n And there, in the place of honour, a carpet and cushions lay, 595\n And the Duchess by Gawain sat her, as the maiden the twain\n did pray.\n And her office the maid forgat not, she disarm\u00e8d the hero\n there,\n And in sooth it is said that the mantle she did for his\n robing bear\n Which had served him that night for cover, when he did 'neath\n her rooftree lie,\n And now was the hour for its wearing and it wrapped him right\n royally. 600\n So clad was Gawain in her mantle, and his own robe beneath he\n wore,\n And the harness he laid from off him on one side the maiden\n bore.\n\n And now as they sat together for the first time the lady fair\n Might look on his face and know him--Then unto the twain they\n bare\n Two game-birds that well were roasted, and with them a flask\n of wine, 605\n And two cakes did the maiden bring them on a cloth that was\n white and fine--\n The birds were the prey of the falcon--but Gawain and his\n lady bright\n Must seek water themselves, if to wash them ere they ate here\n should seem them right,\n And this did the twain; and joyful was the knight that he now\n might eat\n With her, for whose sake he would suffer joy, or sorrow, as\n seemed her meet. 610\n And oft as the cup she gave him that her sweet lips had\n touched, anew\n Sprang his joy that he thus drank with her, and his sorrow\n behind him drew,\n And it halted nor might o'ertake him, and his gladness on\n swift foot sped,\n So fair was her mouth and so rosy her lips that from grief he\n fled.\n\n And no longer his wounds they pained him--Then the ladies\n from out the tower 615\n They looked on the feast, and below them there rode in the\n self-same hour,\n On the further side of the river, brave knights who would\n show their skill.\n And the boatman alike and his daughter Gawain thanked with\n right goodwill,\n Ere yet he might ferry them over, and the lady spake with him\n there,\n For the food and the drink they had brought them--Then out\n quoth the lady fair, 620\n 'Now what hath that knight befallen, who yestreen, ere I rode\n away,\n Was o'erthrown in a joust by another? Was he slain, or doth\n live alway?'\n\n Quoth the boatman, 'He liveth, Lady, and he spake but this\n day with me,\n He was given to me for his charger: if thy will be to set him\n free,\n In his stead will I have the \"swallow\" that Queen Sekundill\u00e9\n sent 625\n To Anfortas, be thine the hero, with the harp were I well\n content!'\n\n 'Both the harp and the other riches that the booth may within\n it hold,'\n Quoth the lady, 'are his who sits here, he may give them, or\n aye withhold,\n Let him do as he will! If he love me, Lischois he methinks\n will loose,\n Nor freedom unto the other, my prince, will he here refuse. 630\n Florand of Itolac is he, of my night-watch was he the chief,\n And as he as Turkowit served me, so his sorrow shall be my\n grief!'\n\n Quoth Gawain to his lovely lady, 'Ere it weareth to eventide\n Thou shalt look on the twain in freedom!' Then they came to\n the further side,\n And the Duchess, so fair to look on, he lifted upon her\n steed, 635\n And many a noble horseman were waiting them on the mead,\n And greeting fair they gave them; and they turned to the Burg\n again,\n And joyful they rode around them and skilful they drew the\n rein,\n And the Buhurd was fair to look on--What more shall I tell ye\n here?\n Gawain, and his lovely lady, at the castle they found good\n cheer, 640\n In such wise did the ladies greet them at Ch\u00e2teau Merveil\n that day,\n And good fortune had here befallen that such bliss should be\n his alway.\n Then Arniv\u00e9 she straightway led him to a chamber, and they\n who knew\n Of such lore his hurts they tended, and they bound up his\n wounds anew.\n\n Quoth Gawain unto Arniv\u00e9, 'Give me, Lady, a messenger!' 645\n Then straightway she sent a maiden, and the maid brought\n again with her\n A footman, both true and manly, as behov\u00e8d him well to be.\n And an oath did he swear unto Gawain, to serve him right\n faithfully,\n And, were it for joy or for sorrow, his errand to secret hold\n From all men, both there and elsewhere, till he came where it\n might be told. 650\n Then they brought to him ink and parchment, and Gawain, King\n Lot's fair son,\n Wrote clear with his hand the message, and thus did the\n writing run--\n To them who abode in L\u00f6ver's fair country, King Arthur brave\n And his queen, with a faith unstain\u00e8d, true service and good\n he gave;\n And he said, had he fame deserv\u00e8d, and they would not his\n praise were slain, 655\n They should come to his aid in his trouble, and show to him\n truth again,\n And with following of knights and ladies to Ioflanz their way\n should wend,\n Where he came himself, and his honour would in mortal strife\n defend.\n And further, this thing he told them, the foemen on either\n side\n Had pledged themselves in all honour and pomp to the field to\n ride; 660\n And therefore he, Gawain, prayed them, both lady alike and\n knight,\n If they bare goodwill towards him, with their king to behold\n the fight.\n For so should it be to their honour. He commended him to them\n all\n Who were of his service worthy, for the strife that should\n there befall!--\n\n No seal did he put to the letter, yet token enough it bare 665\n Of him who should be the writer. Quoth Gawain to the footman\n there,\n 'No longer shalt thou delay thee, the king and the queen\n abide\n In the city of Bems by the Korka; seek the queen in the\n morning-tide\n And the thing she shall bid thee, do thou. But this shalt\n thou secret hold,\n That I in this land am master shall unto no ear be told. 670\n Nor of this thing be thou forgetful, that thou shalt my\n servant be,\n And do thou, without delaying, the errand I give to thee!'\n\n Then the footman from thence he gat him, and Arniv\u00e9 she\n softly went,\n And she asked of him what was his errand? and whither his\n road was bent?\n And he quoth, 'Nay, I may not tell thee, for an oath have I\n sworn to-day, 675\n God keep thee, for I must ride hence!' To the army he took\n his way.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XIII\n\nKLINGSOR\n\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook XIII. tells of the goodly feast that was holden in Ch\u00e2teau\nMerveil, and of the wedding of Gawain and Orgelus\u00e9. How Gawain's\n squire\ndid his bidding; and how King Arthur and Queen Guinevere pledged\nthemselves to ride to Ioflanz to behold the conflict between\n Gawain and\nGramoflanz.\n\nHow Gawain fared in Ch\u00e2teau Merveil; and how Arniv\u00e9 told him the\nhistory of Klingsor, and of his unlawful love.\n\nOf the coming of King Arthur and his host; how they fought before\nLogrois; and came with great pomp to the plain of Ioflanz.\n\nHow Gawain and the dwellers in Ch\u00e2teau Merveil followed to the\n plain;\nof the goodly camp prepared for them; of the wonder of the court\n and\nKay's jealousy; and how the four queens were made known to King\n Arthur.\n\n BOOK XIII\n\n KLINGSOR\n\n Then wrathful, I ween, was Arniv\u00e9 that the messenger said her\n Nay,\n Nor told her aught of his errand, nor whither his journey\n lay.\n And in this wise she quoth to the porter, 'Now, whatever the\n hour may be,\n Be it day, be it night, when he cometh, send tidings thereof\n to me,\n In secret would I speak with him; thou art wise, as full well\n I know!' 5\n Yet wroth was she still with the footman--Then she would to\n the Duchess go,\n And win from her lips the answer, but ready was she of wit,\n And the name that he bare, her hero, her mouth spake no word\n of it.\n Gawain he would have her silent, in her hearing his prayer\n found grace,\n And she spake not, nor might Arniv\u00e9 learn aught of his name\n and race. 10\n\n Then the sound as of many trumpets thro' the hall of the\n palace rang,\n And joyful the blasts--Then rich carpets around on each wall\n they hang,\n And no foot but fell on a carpet would it tread on the palace\n floor,\n A poor man had surely feared him for the riches that there he\n saw.\n And many a couch they stood there, around the stately hall, 15\n Soft were they as down, and rich cushions they laid upon each\n and all.\n\n But Gawain with his toil was wearied, and he slept tho' the\n sun was high,\n And his wounds, with such skill they bound them, tho' his\n love should beside him lie,\n And he in his arms should hold her, he had gotten no hurt I\n ween.\n And sounder his daylight's slumber than his sleep of the\n night had been 20\n When his love had so sorely vexed him; he slept till the\n vesper bell,\n Yet still in his sleep he battled for the lady he loved so\n well.\n Then rich garments of fair silk fashioned, and heavy with\n broidered gold,\n Did the chamberlain bear unto him--Then out quoth the hero\n bold,\n 'More robes such as these, and as costly, I ween, shalt thou\n hither bear, 25\n For Gowerzein's Duke shall need them, and Florand, the hero\n fair,\n For in many a land hath he battled, and hath won for him\n glory's meed--\n Now see that thou make them ready, and do my behest with\n speed!'\n\n Then he prayed, by a squire, the boatman send hither the\n captive knight,\n And Lischois did he send at his bidding by the hand of his\n daughter bright. 30\n And the maiden Ben\u00e9 brought him for the love that she bare\n Gawain,\n And the good that he vowed to her father that morn when she\n wept amain,\n And the knight he left her weeping, and rode on his toilsome\n way--\n And the highest prize of his manhood it fell to his lot that\n day.\n\n The Turkowit too had come there, and Gawain the twain did\n greet 35\n In all friendship, and then he prayed them beside him to take\n their seat\n Till their robes should be brought unto them; and costly they\n needs must be,\n For never was fairer raiment than the garb of those heroes\n three.\n For one lived of yore named Sarant, (a city doth bear his\n name,)\n From out of the land of Triande in the days that are gone he\n came. 40\n In the land of Queen Sekundill\u00e9 stood a city so great and\n fair,\n (E'en Nineveh or Akraton with its glories might scarce\n compare,)\n And the city, men called it Thasm\u00e9; there Sarant won meed of\n fame,\n Since he wove there a silk with cunning, _Saranthasm\u00e9_ should\n be its name.\n Think ye it was fair to look on? How might it be otherwise, 45\n For much gold must he give for the payment who would win to\n him such a prize.\n\n Such robes ware these two and Gawain: then they gat them unto\n the hall,\n And on one side the knights they sat them, on the other the\n ladies all,\n And he who a woman's beauty had wisdom to judge aright\n Must reckon Gawain's fair lady the first of these ladies\n bright. 50\n And the host and his guests so gallant they gazed on her\n radiant glow,\n As they stood before Orgelus\u00e9; and her knights she again must\n know,\n And her Turkowit, gallant Florand, and Lischois, the young\n and fair,\n Were set free, without let or hindrance, for the love that\n Gawain must bear\n To the lovely lady of Logrois--Then their victor they thanked\n amain, 55\n Who was dull to all ill, yet had wisdom in all that might\n true love gain.\n As the captives thus free were spoken, Gawain the four queens\n must see\n As they stood by the side of the Duchess, and he spake in his\n courtesy,\n And he bade the two knights go nearer, and with kiss greet\n those ladies bright,\n The three younger queens, and joyful, I ween, was each\n gallant knight. 60\n And there was the maiden Ben\u00e9, with Gawain had she sought the\n hall,\n And I think me a joyful welcome she found there from each and\n all.\n\n Then the host would no longer stand there, and the twain did\n he pray to sit\n By the maidens, as best should please them, and it griev\u00e8d\n them not one whit,\n Such counsel it grieveth no man! Then the gallant Gawain\n spake, 65\n 'Now which of these maids is Itonj\u00e9? Beside her my seat I'ld\n take!'\n Thus in secret he spake to Ben\u00e9, and she showed him the\n maiden fair,\n 'She, with eyes so clear and shining, and red lips, and dusky\n hair!\n Wouldst thou speak with the maid in secret? Then thy words be\n wise and few:'\n Thus quoth Ben\u00e9 the wise in counsel, who Itonj\u00e9's love-tale\n knew, 70\n And knew that King Gramoflanz loved her, and did service for\n her heart's love,\n And his faith as a knight unstain\u00e8d would fain to the maiden\n prove.\n\n Gawain sat him by the maiden, (as I heard so the tale I\n tell,)\n And soft was his speech and gentle, and his words they\n beseemed him well.\n And tho' few were the years of Itonj\u00e9 yet great was her\n courtesy, 75\n And well did she know how to bear her as a maiden of high\n degree.\n And this question he asked the maiden, if a lover she aye had\n known?\n And with wisdom she made him answer, 'To whom might my love\n be shown,\n For ne'er to a man have I spoken, since the day I first saw\n the light,\n Save the words which thou now dost hearken as I speak unto\n thee, Sir Knight!' 80\n\n 'Yet mayst thou have heard the rumour of one who hath bravely\n fought,\n And striven for prize of knighthood, and with dauntless heart\n hath sought\n Fair service for fair rewarding?' In such wise spake the\n knight Gawain;\n But the maiden she quoth, 'Nay, no hero hath striven _my_\n love to gain;\n Yon lady, the Duchess of Logrois, hath many a gallant knight 85\n Who serve her for love, or for payment, and hither they come\n to fight,\n And we of their jousts are witness, yet none shall have come\n so nigh\n As _thou_ hast, Sir Knight, and this conflict thy glory hath\n raised on high!'\n\n Then he quoth to the lovely maiden, 'Whose pathway shall she\n have crossed\n With many a chosen hero? Say, who hath her favour lost?' 90\n 'That, Sir Knight, hath the valiant monarch, King Gramoflanz,\n he who bore\n From aforetime the crown of honour; so men say, and _I_ know\n no more!'\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'Thou shalt know more of him, since he draweth\n the prize anear,\n And with steadfast heart doth he seek it; from his lips I\n this tale did hear--\n Of true heart would he do thee service, if such service shall\n be thy will, 95\n And help at thine hand he seeketh that thy love may his\n torment still.\n It is well that a king face peril, if his lady shall be a\n queen,\n And _thou_ art the maid whom he loveth, if King Lot hath thy\n father been;\n Thou art she for whom his heart weepeth, if thy name shall\n Itonj\u00e9 be,\n And sorrow of heart dost thou give him--By my mouth would he\n plead with thee.' 100\n\n 'Now if thou be true and faithful of his woe wilt thou make\n an end,\n And _both_ would I serve right gladly--This ring he to thee\n doth send,\n I prithee to take it, Lady! In sooth do I mean thee well,\n And if thou wilt trust unto me no word of the tale I'll\n tell!'\n Then crimson she blushed, the maiden, and e'en as her lips\n were red 105\n So red grew her cheek, yet the blushes as they came so they\n swiftly sped.\n And she stretched forth her hand so shyly toward the little\n ring of gold,\n For e'en at a glance she knew it, and her hand did the token\n hold.\n\n Then she spake, 'Now, Sir Knight, I see well, if I freely to\n thee may speak,\n That thou comest from him, whom, desiring, my heart doth for\n ever seek. 110\n My words shalt thou still hold secret, as courtesy biddeth\n thee,\n This ring have I seen aforetime, for it oft hath been sent to\n me;\n From the hand of the king it cometh, and I know it for token\n true,\n From my hand did he first receive it. What sorrow so e'er he\n knew,\n Of that do I hold me guiltless; what he asked, that in\n thought I gave, 115\n Had we met I had ne'er withholden the boon he from me did\n crave.'\n\n 'This day have I kissed Orgelus\u00e9, who thinketh his death to\n win,\n I ween 'twas the kiss of Judas which all men count to him for\n sin!\n And honour and faith forsook me, when the Turkowit, brave\n Florand,\n And Gowerzein's Duke, fair Lischois, I kissed here at thy\n command. 120\n From my heart I might not forgive them, for my true love they\n hate alway--\n But speak thou no word to my mother.' Thus the maiden Gawain\n did pray.\n\n 'Sir Knight, it was _thou_ didst pray me to take from their\n lips this kiss,\n Tho' no will for forgiveness had I, and my heart sickeneth\n sore for this!\n If joy shall be e'er our portion, our help in thine hand\n shall be, 125\n And I know well, above all women, the king he desireth me;\n And his will shall he have, for I love him o'er all men on\n earth that live--\n God send thee good help and good counsel, that joy thou to us\n mayst give!'\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'How may that be, Lady? He beareth thee in his\n heart,\n And in thine dost thou ever hold him, and yet are ye twain\n apart. 130\n If I knew how to give thee counsel that ye twain might in\n gladness dwell,\n Of a sooth no pains would I spare me such rede unto thee to\n tell.'\n Then she quoth, 'Yet in truth shalt thou rule us, myself, and\n my gallant king,\n And naught but thy help and God's blessing our love to its\n goal may bring,\n So that I, poor homeless maiden, his sorrow may put away, 135\n For his joy shall be set upon me! If so be I from truth ne'er\n stray,\n What other can I desire here, or for what shall my true heart\n yearn,\n Save to give him the love he asketh, and his grief unto\n gladness turn?'\n\n Gawain, he saw well that the maiden would fain to her love\n belong,\n Yet her hatred towards the Duchess as aforetime was fierce\n and strong; 140\n Thus hatred and love did she bear here, and wrong had he done\n the maid\n Who thus, of a true heart simply, her plaint had before him\n laid.\n Since never a word had he told her how one mother had borne\n them both,\n And King Lot he had been their father--Then he answered her,\n little loth,\n He would do what he might to aid her, and in secret with\n gracious word 145\n She thanked him who brought her comfort, and her sorrow with\n kindness heard.\n\n Now the hour it was come, and they brought there for the\n tables fair linen white,\n And bread did they bear to the palace unto many a lady\n bright,\n And there might ye see a severance, for the knights they sat\n by one wall,\n Apart from the maids; and their places Gawain gave to each\n and all. 150\n And the Turkowit sat beside him, and Lischois ate with\n Sangiv\u00e9,\n (And that fair queen was Gawain's mother,) and Orgelus\u00e9 by\n Arniv\u00e9.\n And Gawain set his lovely sister by his side at that festal\n board,\n And all did as he bade them gladly, for he was that castle's\n lord.\n\n My skill not the half doth tell me, no such master-cook am I, 155\n That I know the name of the viands they offered them\n courteously;\n The host, and each one of the ladies, their servers were\n maidens fair,\n To the knights who sat over against them many squires did\n their portion bear.\n For this was the seemly custom, that no squire, in his\n serving haste,\n Brushed roughly against a maiden, but ever apart they paced-- 160\n And whether 'twas wine, or 'twas viands, they offered unto\n the guests,\n In naught was their courtesy harm\u00e8d, for so did men deem it\n best.\n\n And a feast they to-day must look on such as no man before\n had seen,\n Since vanquished by Klingsor's magic both lady and knight had\n been.\n Unknown were they yet to each other, tho' one portal it shut\n them in, 165\n And never a man and a maiden might speech of each other win;\n And a good thing Gawain he thought it that this folk should\n each other meet,\n And much he rejoiced in their gladness, and his own lot it\n seemed him sweet;\n Yet ever he looked in secret on his lady and love so fair,\n And his heart it waxed hot within him, and love's anguish he\n needs must bear. 170\n\n But the day drew near to its closing, and faint waxed the\n waning light,\n And fair thro' the clouds of heaven gleamed the messengers of\n the night,\n Many stars so bright and golden, who speed on their silent\n way\n When the night would seek for shelter in the realm of\n departing day;\n And after her standard-bearers, with her host doth she\n swiftly tread-- 175\n Now many a fair crown golden in the palace hung high\n o'erhead,\n And with tapers they all were lighted around the stately\n hall,\n And they bare unto every table a host of tapers tall;\n And yet the story telleth that the Duchess she was so fair,\n That ne'er was it night in her presence tho' never a torch\n were there! 180\n For her glance was so bright and radiant it brought of itself\n the day;\n And this tale of fair Orgelus\u00e9 full oft have I heard men say.\n He had spoken, methinks, untruly who said that he e'er had\n seen\n A host so rich and joyous, and joyous his guests, I ween;\n And ever with eager gladness each knight and each gentle maid 185\n Looked well on each other's faces, nor shrank from the glance\n afraid.\n If friendship they here desir\u00e8d, or each other would better\n know,\n Then naught of their joy would I grudge them, methinks it\n were better so!\n\n Tho' I wot well there none was a glutton, yet still had they\n ate their fill,\n And they bare on one side the tables, and Gawain asked, with\n right goodwill, 190\n If here there should be a fiddler? and many a gallant squire\n Was skilled on the strings, and gladly would play at the\n host's desire,\n Yet were they not all too skilful, and the dances were old\n alway,\n Not new, as in fair Thuringia the dances they know to-day.\n\n Then they thanked their host who, joyful, would give to their\n joy its vent, 195\n And many a lovely lady in his presence danced well content,\n For goodly their dance to look on, and their ranks, with many\n a pair\n Of knight and lady, mingled, and grief fled from their faces\n fair.\n And oft 'twixt two gentle maidens might be seen a noble\n knight,\n And they who looked well upon them in their faces might read\n delight. 200\n And whatever knight bethought him, and would of his lady pray\n Reward, if for love he served her, none said to his pleading\n Nay.\n Thus they who were poor in sorrow, and rich in joy's fairest\n dower,\n With sweet words, by sweet lips spoken, made gladsome the\n passing hour.\n\n Gawain and the Queen Arniv\u00e9, and Sangiv\u00e9, the dance so fleet 205\n Would look on in peace, for they danced not; then the Duchess\n she took her seat\n By the side of Gawain, and her white hand he held in his own\n a while,\n And they spake of this thing and the other, with many a\n glance and smile;\n He rejoiced that she thus had sought him, and his grief it\n waxed small and faint,\n And his joy it grew strong and mighty, nor vexed him with\n sorrow's plaint. 210\n And great was the joy of the lady o'er the dance, and the\n merry feast,\n Yet less was the sorrow of Gawain, and his joy o'er her joy\n increased.\n\n Then spake the old Queen Arniv\u00e9, 'Sir Knight, now methinks\n 'twere best\n That thou get thee to bed, for sorely, I ween, shall thy\n wounds need rest\n Has the Duchess perchance bethought her to care for thy couch\n this night, 215\n And tend thee herself, with such counsel and deed as shall\n seem her right?'\n Quoth Gawain, 'That thyself mayst ask her; I will do as shall\n please ye twain!'\n Then the Duchess she spake in answer, 'He shall in my charge\n remain.\n Let this folk to their couch betake them, I will tend in such\n sort his rest\n That never a loving lady dealt better by gallant guest; 220\n And the other twain, my princes, in the care of the knights\n shall be,\n Florand, and the Duke of Gowerzein, for so seemeth it good to\n me.'\n\n In short space the dance was ended, and the maidens in beauty\n bright\n Sat here and there, and between them sat many a gallant\n knight;\n And joy took her revenge on sorrow, and he who so sweetly\n spake 225\n Words of love, from his gentle lady must a gracious answer\n take.\n Then the host must they hear, as he bade them the cup to the\n hall to bear,\n And the wooers bemoaned his bidding; yet the host he wooed\n with them here,\n And he bare of his love the burden, and the sitting he deemed\n too long,\n For his heart by love's power was tortured with anguish so\n fierce and strong. 230\n And they drank the night-drink, and sadly to each other they\n bade goodnight,\n And the squires they must bear before them full many a taper\n bright.\n And the two gallant guests did Gawain commend to them each\n and all,\n And glad were the knights, and the heroes they led forth from\n out the hall.\n And the Duchess, with gracious kindness, wished fair rest to\n the princes twain, 235\n And then to their sleeping chambers forth wended the maiden\n train,\n And as their fair breeding bade them, at the parting they\n curtseyed low:\n Queen Sangiv\u00e9 and her fair daughters they too to their rest\n would go.\n\n Then Ben\u00e9, the maid, and Arniv\u00e9, they wrought with a willing\n hand\n That the host he might sleep in comfort, nor the Duchess\n aside did stand, 240\n But she aided the twain, and Gawain was led of the helpers\n three\n To a chamber fair where his slumber that even should joyful\n be.\n Two couches alone did he see there, but no man to me hath\n told\n Of their decking, for other matters, I ween, doth this story\n hold.\n\n Quoth Arniv\u00e9 unto the Duchess, 'Now, Lady, think thou how\n best 245\n This knight whom thou broughtest hither, shall beneath this\n roof-tree rest,\n If aid at thine hand he craveth, to grant it shall honour\n thee;\n No more would I say, save this only, his wounds they shall\n bandaged be\n With such skill he might bear his armour--But if he bemoan\n his grief\n Then methinks it were good and fitting that thou bring to his\n woe relief. 250\n If thou wakest anew his courage, then we all in his gladness\n share--\n Now think thou no ill of my counsel, but have for thy knight\n good care!'\n Then the Queen Arniv\u00e9 left them, (yet leave had she craved\n before,)\n And Ben\u00e9 she bare the taper, and Gawain he made fast the\n door.\n\n If the twain to their love gave hearing? The tale how should\n I withhold, 255\n I would speak, were it not unseemly that love's secrets aloud\n be told,\n For courtesy doth forbid it; and he who would tell the tale\n Worketh ill to himself, o'er love's dealings true hands ever\n draw the veil.\n\n Now betwixt his love and his lady had the joy of Gawain waxed\n small,\n An the Duchess would have no pity, then healing might ne'er\n befall. 260\n They who sat in the seat of the wise men, and knew many a\n mystic word,\n Kancor, and Th\u00e8bit, and Trebuchet, the smith who Frimutel's\n sword\n Once wrought, ('twas a wondrous weapon, and men of its\n marvels tell)--\n Nay, all the skill of physicians, tho' they meant to the hero\n well\n And plied him with roots well mingled--Had a _woman_ ne'er\n sought his side, 265\n Then vain were their skill, in his torment methinks had he\n surely died!\n\n Fain would I make short the story, he the rightful root had\n found\n That helped him unto his healing, and the chain of his grief\n unbound,\n And brought light in the midst of his darkness--(Breton by\n his mother's side\n Was Gawain, and King Lot his father) thus the healing task he\n plied, 270\n And sweet balsam for bitter sorrow was his lot till the dawn\n of day.\n Yet that which had wrought him comfort it was hid from the\n folk alway,\n But all there, both knights and ladies, they beheld him so\n gay and glad\n That their sorrow was put far from them and their heart was\n no longer sad.\n Now list how he did the message whom Gawain he had sent afar, 275\n Yea unto the land of L\u00f6ver, unto Bems by the fair Korka,\n For there he abode, King Arthur, and his lady, the gracious\n queen,\n With fair maids and a host of vassals; this the lot of the\n squire had been.\n\n 'Twas yet in the early morning, when his message he fain had\n brought,\n And the queen, in the chapel kneeling, on the page of her\n psalter thought; 280\n Then the squire bent his knee before her, and he gave her a\n token fair,\n For she took from his hand a letter, and the cover must\n writing bear\n That was writ by a hand she knew well, ere yet she the name\n might know,\n From the squire, of him who had sent him, as she looked on\n him kneeling low.\n Then the queen she spake to the letter, 'Now blessed that\n hand shall be 285\n That wrote thee; for care was my portion since the day that\n mine eyes might see\n The hand that hath writ this writing'--She wept, yet for joy\n was fain,\n And she quoth to the squire, 'Of a surety thy master shall be\n Gawain!'\n\n 'Yea, Lady, he truly offers true service as aye of yore,\n With never a thought of wavering, yet his joy it shall suffer\n sore, 290\n If so be thou wilt not upraise it; and never it stood so ill\n With his honour as now it standeth--And more would he tell\n thee still,\n In joy shall he live henceforward if comfort he gain from\n thee;\n And I wot that yet more shall be written than what thou hast\n heard from me.'\n\n Then she quoth, 'I have truly read there the cause that hath\n brought thee here, 295\n And service I think to do him with many a woman dear,\n Who to-day shall I ween be reckoned to have won to them\n beauty's prize--\n Save Parzival's wife and another, Orgelus\u00e9, in all men's\n eyes,\n Thro' Christendom none shall be fairer--Since far from King\n Arthur's court\n Gawain rode, sore grief and sorrow have made of my life their\n sport. 300\n And Meljanz de Lys hath told me he saw him in Barbig\u00f6l--\n Alas!' quoth the queen, 'that ever mine eyes saw thee,\n Plimiz\u00f6l!\n What sorrow did there befall me! Since that day might I never\n greet\n Kunnewaare of Lalande, she hath left me, my friend and\n companion sweet.\n And the right of the good Round Table was broken by words of\n scorn, 305\n And four years and a half and six weeks have left us, I ween,\n forlorn,\n Since the Grail Parzival rode seeking; and after him rode\n Gawain\n To Askalon--Nor Jeschut\u00e9 nor Hekuba come again\n Since the day that they parted from me, and grief for my\n friends so true\n Hath driven my peace far from me, nor joy since that day I\n knew!' 310\n And the queen spake much of her sorrow: then the squire would\n her counsel know,\n 'Now do thou in this my bidding, in secret thou hence shalt\n go,\n And wait till the sun be higher, and the folk all at court\n shall be,\n Knights, servants, and gentle ladies, and vassals of all\n degree;\n And then to the court ride swiftly, nor think who shall hold\n thy steed, 315\n But spring from its back, and hasten where the king shall thy\n coming heed.\n They will ask of thee news of venture, but thou, do thou act\n and speak\n As one who from peril flieth, whom the flames would devouring\n seek,\n And they may not prevail to hold thee, nor win from thy lips\n the tale,\n But press thou thro' them to the monarch, and to greet thee\n he will not fail. 320\n Then give to his hand the letter, and swiftly from it he'll\n read\n Thy tale, and thy lord's desiring; I doubt not the prayer\n he'll heed!'\n\n 'And this will I further rede thee, make thou thy request to\n me\n Where I sit, and, amid my ladies, thy dealings may hear and\n see;\n And beseech us, as well thou knowest, for thy lord wouldst\n thou hearing gain. 325\n But say, for as yet I know not, where abideth the knight\n Gawain?'\n 'Nay,' quoth the squire, 'I may not, ask not where my lord\n doth dwell,\n But think, an thou wilt, that good fortune is his, and he\n fareth well!'\n Then glad was the squire of her counsel, and he took from the\n queen his way\n In such wise as ye here have hearkened, and he came, e'en as\n she did say. 330\n\n For e'en at the hour of noontide, not in secret but openly\n He came to the court, and the courtiers his garments eyed\n curiously,\n And they thought that they well beseemed him, and were such\n as a squire should wear,\n And his horse on each flank was wounded, where the spurs they\n had smitten fair.\n And, e'en as the queen had taught him, he sprang straightway\n unto the ground, 335\n And a crowd of eager courtiers pressed, thronging, his steed\n around.\n Mantle, sword, and spurs, e'en his charger might be lost, he\n would little care\n But he gat thro' the crowd to the heroes, and the knights\n they besought him there,\n Brought he news of some gallant venture? For the custom was\n aye of yore,\n That they ate not, nor man nor maiden, save unto the court\n they bore 340\n The news of some deed of knighthood, and the court might\n claim its right,\n If so be 'twas a worthy venture, and one that beseemed a\n knight.\n Quoth the squire, 'Nay, I naught may tell ye, for my haste\n doth not brook delay,\n Of your courtesy then forgive me, and lead to the king the\n way,\n For 'tis meet that I first speak with him, and mine haste it\n doth work me ill; 345\n But my tale shall ye hear, and God teach ye to aid me with\n right goodwill!'\n\n And so did his message urge him he thought not on the\n thronging crowd,\n Till the eyes of the king beheld him, and greeting he spake\n aloud.\n Then he gave to his hand the letter that bade to King\n Arthur's heart,\n As he read it, two guests, joy and sorrow, alike there the\n twain had part 350\n And he spake, 'Hail! the fair day's dawning, by whose light I\n have read this word,\n And of thee, O son of my sister, true tidings at last have\n heard!\n If in manhood I may but serve thee as kinsman and friend, if\n faith\n Ever ruled my heart, 'twill be open to the word that Sir\n Gawain saith!'\n\n Then he spake to the squire, 'Now tell me if Sir Gawain be\n glad at heart?' 355\n 'Yea, sire, at thy will, with the joyful I ween shall he have\n his part,'\n (And thus quoth the squire in his wisdom,) 'yet his honour he\n sure shall lose,\n And no man fresh joy may give him, if thine aid thou shalt\n here refuse.\n At thy succour his gladness waxeth, and from out of dark\n sorrow's door\n Shall grief from his heart be banished, if thou hearken his\n need so sore. 360\n As of yore doth he offer service to the queen, and it is his\n will\n That the knights of the good Round Table as their comrade\n account him still,\n And think on their faith, nor let him be 'spoiled of his\n honour's meed,\n But pray thee his cry to hearken, and make to his aid good\n speed!'\n\n Quoth King Arthur, 'Dear friend and comrade, bear this letter\n unto the queen, 365\n Let her read therein, and tell us why our portion hath\n twofold been,\n And at one while we joy and we sorrow. How King Gramoflanz is\n fain\n In the pride of his heart, and his malice, to work ill to my\n knight, Gawain;\n He thinketh for sure that my nephew shall be Eidegast, whom\n he slew,\n Thence grief hath he won; deeper sorrow I'ld teach him, and\n customs new!' 370\n\n Then the squire he would pass where a welcome so kindly he\n did receive,\n And he gave to the queen the letter, and many an eye must\n grieve,\n And with crystal tears run over, as with sweet lips she read\n so clear\n The words that within were written, and the need of Gawain\n they hear,\n And his prayer did she read before them; nor long would the\n squire delay 375\n With skill to entreat the ladies, and aid at their hand to\n pray.\n\n King Arthur, Sir Gawain's uncle, he wrought with a hearty\n will\n That his vassals might take the journey: nor did she abide\n her still,\n Guinevere, the wise and the courteous, for she prayed them\n make no delay,\n Her ladies, but bravely deck them, and get on their stately\n way. 380\n Quoth Kay aloud in his anger, 'If ever I dared believe\n That so gallant a man as Gawain of Norway on earth should\n live\n I would cry to him, \"Come thou nearer!\" Fetch him swift, else\n he swift will go,\n As a squirrel away he flasheth, and is lost ere his place ye\n know!'\n\n To the queen quoth the squire, 'Now, Lady, my lord must I\n swiftly seek, 385\n His cause do I leave to thine honour!' To her chamberlain did\n she speak,\n 'See thou that this squire doth rest well, and look well unto\n his steed,\n Is it hewn with spurs, find another, the best that shall\n serve his need.\n And what else beside shall fail him, for his dress, or lest\n pledge he lose,\n Make ready as he shall ask thee, and naught unto him refuse!' 390\n And she quoth, 'Thou shalt say unto Gawain, I am ever to\n serve him fain,\n Thy leave from the king will I care for, he greeteth thy lord\n again!'\n\n Thus the king he was fain for the journey; and the feast it\n might now be served,\n Since the right of the good Round Table by this venture was\n well observed;\n And joy in their hearts awakened, since this gallant knight\n Gawain 395\n Should be yet in life, and true tidings they might of his\n welfare gain.\n And the knights of that noble order, that even were glad at\n heart,\n And there sat the king, and those others who had in the ring\n their part,\n And they sat and they ate with their monarch who fame by\n their strife had won,\n And the news of this gallant venture wrought joy to them\n every one. 400\n\n Now the squire might betake him homewards, since his errand\n so well had sped,\n He gat forth at the early dawning, ere the sun should be high\n o'erhead,\n And the queen's chamberlain he gave him a charger, and robes\n beside,\n And gold lest his pledge be forfeit, and glad on his way he\n hied,\n For had he not won from King Arthur what should end his\n lord's sorrow sore? 405\n And I know not the days of his journey, but in safety he came\n once more\n To Ch\u00e2teau Merveil; then joyful was Arniv\u00e9, for as she bade\n The porter bare news of his coming, how his steed he no whit\n had stayed,\n But swiftly had done his errand. Then in secret she made her\n way\n To where by the castle drawbridge the squire did his charger\n stay, 410\n And she asked him much of his journey, and why he in haste\n must ride?\n Quoth the squire, ''Tis forbidden, Lady! my errand I needs\n must hide,\n An oath have I sworn of silence, and my lord he might well be\n wroth\n If to thee I should tell the tidings, for so should I break\n mine oath,\n And a fool would he surely hold me! Ask himself what thou\n fain wouldst learn!' 415\n Yet she strove still with many a question from his purpose\n the squire to turn,\n Then weary was he of her pleading, and in anger this word he\n spake,\n 'Without cause dost thou here delay me, for I think not mine\n oath to break!'\n\n So he went where he found his master, and the Turkowit brave\n Florand,\n And Lischois, and the lady of Logrois, many ladies did with\n them stand, 420\n And the squire made his way to his master, and up stood the\n knight Gawain,\n And he took him aside, and welcome he bade him in joyful\n strain,\n 'Now tell unto me, my comrade, the tidings thou here hast\n brought,\n If thy news be for joy or for sorrow, what speak they of me\n at court?'\n\n 'And say, didst thou find King Arthur?' quoth the squire, 'My\n master, yea, 425\n The king, and the queen, and with them many brave knights I\n saw alway,\n And they offer to thee their service, and they will at thy\n bidding come,\n And they heard in such sort thy message, with such gladness,\n that every one,\n Rich and poor, as one man were joyful when I spake, thou wert\n safe and well.\n And the folk there were sure a marvel! Their number I may not\n tell! 430\n And the Table Round, by thy message, was spread for the feast\n I ween;\n And if knight e'er won fame by his valour, then I wot that\n thy fame hath been\n Far greater than all who hearkened to the words that I spake\n of thee,\n And it beareth the crown o'er all others, tho' mighty their\n fame shall be!'\n\n Then he told him all that befell there, how he spake with the\n gracious queen, 435\n And the counsel she gave unto him; and how he the folk had\n seen,\n Those brave knights and gentle ladies; how Gawain should\n behold their face\n At Ioflanz, before the combat, and the end of his day of\n grace.\n And the sorrow of Gawain vanished, yet his joy in his heart\n he'ld hide,\n Tho' from grief did he pass to gladness; yet the squire must\n his oath abide 440\n And yet for a space keep silence--Forgotten was all his care,\n And thither he went, and he sat him again by his lady fair,\n And with joy he abode in the castle till King Arthur to his\n relief\n Might come with his host--Now hearken to a story of love and\n grief:\n\n Gawain he was ever joyful; one morn did it so befall 445\n That many a knight and lady were seen in that stately hall,\n And Gawain sat apart in a window, and looked o'er the stream\n so wide,\n And with many a tale of wonder sat Arniv\u00e9 the knight beside.\n\n To the queen spake the gallant hero, 'Ah! hearken, my Lady\n dear,\n If my questions they shall not vex thee, do thou to my words\n give ear 450\n And tell me the wondrous story, which as yet shall be hid\n from me--\n That I live, and my life is joyful, I owe it to none but\n thee;\n Tho' my heart had the wit of manhood, yet the Duchess she\n held it fast,\n But thou in such wise hast helped me that my sorrow is\n overpast;\n Of my love, and my wounds had I died here, but with wisdom\n thy helpful hand 455\n Thou didst stretch to my aid, and hast loosed me for aye from\n my sorrow's band.\n I owe thee my life! My Lady of healing, now tell to me\n The wonder that was, and the marvel that yet in this place\n shall be.\n Say, wherefore by mighty magic hath Klingsor this palace\n made?\n For surely my life had I lost here had thy wisdom not been\n mine aid!' 460\n\n Then out quoth the wise Arniv\u00e9, (and ne'er with such goodly\n fame\n Of womanly faith and wisdom fair youth unto old age came,)\n 'Sir Knight, these are but small marvels to the marvels his\n cunning hand,\n And his skill in hidden magic, have wrought in full many a\n land.\n He who counteth it shame unto us that into his power we fell, 465\n He sinneth for sure! His doings, Sir Knight, I to thee will\n tell.\n Many folk, I ween, hath he troubled, his land is Terre de\n Lab\u00fbr:\n From a wondrous race he springeth, whose marvels they aye\n endure,\n For Virgil was his forefather, in Naples his spells he\n wrought:\n And in this wise his nephew Klingsor was to shame and to\n sorrow brought;' 470\n\n 'And the chief of his towns was Capua--such high fame was\n his, I ween,\n That never in praise or in honour methinks had he sham\u00e8d\n been,\n And all folk they spake of Duke Klingsor, and praised him,\n both man and maid,\n Till in this wise he won dishonour, and his glory to earth\n was laid.\n In Sicily reigned a monarch, King Ibert, his life was blest 475\n With a fair wife, Iblis, none fairer e'er hung on a mother's\n breast,\n And Klingsor would do her service, till her love should be\n his reward,\n And in shame did he win his guerdon from the hand of her\n rightful lord.'\n\n 'If here I must tell his secret, forgiveness I first must\n pray,\n For methinks it shall be a story that scarce fitteth my lips\n to say; 480\n With a stroke was he made magician, with the self-same stroke\n unmanned'--\n Then loudly he laughed, Sir Gawain, as the tale he must\n understand.\n\n 'In Kalot Enbolot's castle he won him this lasting shame,\n (I trow 'tis a mighty fortress, and far lands shall know its\n fame,)\n With his wife did the monarch find him, there lay Klingsor\n within her arm, 485\n And sorely must he repent him of his slumber so soft and\n warm,\n For the hand of the king avenged him in such wise as he\n deemed his right;\n And he left with his knife such token of shame on the traitor\n knight\n That henceforward the love of woman it rejoiceth him never\n more!\n And I wot well for his dishonour many folk shall have\n suffered sore.' 490\n\n '('Tis not in the land of Persia) in a city called Persida\n Were magic spells first woven; it stands in a land afar,\n And thither did Klingsor journey, and there did he learn such\n skill,\n That with secrets of magic cunning he worketh whate'er he\n will.\n For the ill that was wrought his body he beareth goodwill to\n none, 495\n But rejoiceth to work them evil, the more if they fame have\n won.'\n\n 'E'en such peril beset one monarch--Ir\u00f4t was, I ween, his\n name,\n And Rosch-Sabbins was his kingdom--At length to such pass he\n came,\n That he bade him to take of that country what he would, so he\n peace would keep;\n Then Klingsor he took of the monarch this mountain so high\n and steep, 500\n And the land for eight miles around it; on the summit did\n Klingsor rear\n The wonder-work thou seest, and this palace we look on here.\n And there faileth nor worldly riches, nor marvel of magic\n skill,\n If for thirty years one besieged it, methinks 'twere\n provisioned still.\n And power doth he hold o'er all spirits, 'twixt the earth and\n the heaven above, 505\n Both evil and good, save those only whom God doth from his\n power remove.'\n\n 'Sir Knight, since thy deadly peril thou hast passed, nor thy\n death hast found,\n He gives to thine hand his kingdom, this Burg, and the lands\n around,\n No claim doth he make upon it; and peace doth he promise\n thee--\n This he sware in the ears of his people, and a man of his\n word is he, 510\n That the knight who withstood the venture, this gift should\n be his for aye.\n And all who from Christendom's countries 'neath the spell of\n his magic lay,\n Be they woman, or man, or maiden, are thy vassals both one\n and all,\n And many from lands of paynim with us 'neath his power must\n fall.\n Let this folk then now get them homewards, where yet for our\n loss they mourn, 515\n For to dwell in the land of the stranger, it maketh my heart\n forlorn\n And He, who the stars hath counted, may He teach thee to give\n us aid,\n And turn once again to rejoicing those hearts that are sore\n afraid!'\n\n 'A child was born of a mother, who its mother's mother shall\n be;\n For the ice it came of the water; when the sunlight shineth\n free, 520\n Then nothing I ween shall hinder that water from ice be\n born--\n Of my glad youth I often think me, tho' now I must weep\n forlorn,\n If my lot shall once more be joyful then the child from the\n child shall spring.\n And thou, art thou wise and courteous, methinks well mayst\n work this thing!'\n\n ''Tis long since all joy forsook me! The skiff 'neath its\n sail flies fast, 525\n But the man who doth sail within it hath swifter his voyage\n o'erpast.\n If thou readest aright my riddle thy fame shall wax high and\n fleet,\n For our joy canst thou make to blossom, and our song to ring\n clear and sweet.\n And, bringers of joy, shall we journey into many a distant\n land,\n Where the folk weep sore for our losing, and shall greet us\n with outstretched hand!' 530\n\n 'Of joy had I once full measure: a crown\u00e8d queen was I!\n And my daughter amid her princes bare a crown too right\n royally,\n And all men they deemed us worthy--Sir Knight, I wrought ill\n to none,\n But alike, both man and maiden, from my hand due guerdon won.\n And all men they knew, and they owned me one fit o'er the\n folk to reign, 535\n For I, so God gave me wisdom, ne'er brought to another pain.\n Yet she who in gladness dwelleth, tho' a fair praise she\n think to earn,\n And the prayer of the poor she hearken, yet her joy to such\n grief may turn\n That a poor lad may make her joyful--Sir Knight, here\n o'erlong I stay,\n Yet there cometh no man who doth know me, and turneth my care\n away!' 540\n\n Then out quoth the gallant hero, 'Lady, if life be mine,\n Then gladness shall be thy portion, nor shalt thou in exile\n pine!'\n Now this self-same day brought the coming of Arthur the\n Breton king,\n The son of the sad Arniv\u00e9, whom kinship and faith did bring;\n And many a fair new banner Gawain from the castle saw, 545\n And the field it was thick with the horsemen who near at his\n summons draw.\n On the road that wound hence from Logrois came many a\n blazoned spear,\n And Gawain, he was glad at their coming; for delay it oft\n teacheth fear,\n Who waiteth o'erlong for succour, he doubteth 'twill come too\n late!\n From such doubt had King Arthur freed him! Ah me! how he rode\n in state! 550\n\n Gawain, he would hold it secret, yet his eyes they were fain\n to weep,\n Little good had they been for cisterns, since the water they\n failed to keep.\n And for love must he weep, for Arthur such love had toward\n him shown,\n He had cherished him from his childhood, and had dealt with\n him as his own;\n And the twain they had never wavered, but their faith to each\n other kept, 555\n And nor falsehood nor thought of doubting betwixt their two\n hearts had crept.\n\n But Arniv\u00e9 was 'ware of his weeping, and quoth, 'Now shalt\n thou begin\n To joy with the shout of rejoicing, thus comfort we all shall\n win.\n 'Gainst sorrow shouldst thou defend thee--See the host that\n now draweth nigh,\n Methinks 'tis the Duchess' army, with their coming shall joy\n wax high.' 560\n Now many a tent and banner they saw wind across the plain,\n But _one_ shield did they bear before them, and Arniv\u00e9 beheld\n again,\n And she knew, as of yore, the blazon, and Isay\u00e9 she called\n the name\n Of the knight, he should be king's marshal, and Uther\n Pendragon came!\n But the shield it was borne by another, graceful of limb and\n tall, 565\n And she said, 'He shall be _queen's_ marshal, and _Maurin_\n his name they call.'\n But little she knew, Arniv\u00e9, that dead were both king and\n knight,\n And Maurin, he held the office that afore was his father's\n right.\n To the bank in the meadow of conflict rode the host--They who\n served the queen\n Found a resting-place for the ladies, and a fair camp it was\n I ween. 570\n By the side of a swift, clear streamlet they set up the tents\n so fair,\n And, apart, many goodly circles for the king and his knights\n prepare.\n And methinks they had left behind them, wherever the host\n must ride,\n A mighty track of hoof-prints on the field and the roadways\n wide!\n\n Gawain, by the mouth of Ben\u00e9, his host Plippalin\u00f2t prayed 575\n To hold vessel and boat in safe keeping that no crossing that\n day be made.\n And the maid from the hand of Gawain took the first gift of\n his rich store,\n 'Twas a swallow, the harp was costly, such as harpers in\n England bore.\n\n Then joyful, she sought her father, and Gawain, he gave\n command\n To shut fast the outer portals, since a host at the gate did\n stand; 580\n And old and young they listed the word that he courteous\n spake:\n 'On the further side of the river an army its camp doth make,\n And never, by land or by water, a mightier host I saw,\n Would they fight, then I pray ye help me my knighthood to\n prove once more!'\n\n With one voice did they make the promise--Then they asked of\n the Duchess fair, 585\n If the host should be hers? But she answered, 'Believe me, of\n all men there\n I know neither shield nor bearer; perchance he who wrought me\n ill\n Hath entered my land, and thought him to bow Logrois unto his\n will.\n He hath found it right well defended! My people might well\n defy,\n From their tower and their battlements lofty, e'en such army\n as here doth lie! 590\n Hath he wrought there fresh deeds of knighthood, then King\n Gramoflanz sure hath thought\n To revenge himself for the garland that my knight from his\n tree hath brought.\n But whoever they be, I know well, they shall many a joust\n have seen,\n And many a spear at Logrois by mine army hath splintered\n been.'\n\n And never a lie had she spoken--For Arthur must peril face 595\n As he rode thro' the land of Logrois; and many of Breton race\n In knightly joust had fallen--But Arthur their ill repaid\n In the self-same coin, and on both sides sore stress on the\n host was laid.\n\n Battle-weary, so came they hither of whom one full oft must\n hear\n That they sold their lives full dearly, and did never a\n foeman fear. 600\n And either side had suffered, both Garel and Gaherjet,\n King Meljanz of Lys, and Iofreit, son of Idol, in durance set\n Ere even the end of the Tourney--From Logrois they captive\n bare\n The Duke of Vermandois, Friam, and Count Richard, he of\n Nevers,\n Who naught but one spear had needed ere he against whom he\n rode 605\n Had fallen 'neath his stroke so mighty, and no man his joust\n abode.\n With his own hand King Arthur made him his captive, this\n gallant knight;\n Then, dauntless, they spurred them onward, and the armies\n they met in fight,\n And a forest, methinks, it cost them! For no man the jousts\n might know\n That were ridden, a rain of splinters fell thick at each\n mighty blow; 610\n And the Bretons, they bore them bravely 'gainst the Lady of\n Logrois' host,\n And Arthur himself the rear-guard would keep at sore\n conflict's cost.\n And in this wise they fought and they vexed them through the\n hours of the livelong day,\n Till the greater part of the army outwearied with conflict\n lay.\n\n And well might Gawain have told her, the Duchess, that to his\n aid 615\n They had ridden her land, then, I wot well, no strife had\n their way delayed,\n But he would that no lips should tell her till her own eye\n the truth had seen--\n Then he dealt as should well befit him had King Arthur his\n foeman been,\n And made ready to march against him with rich tents and\n warlike gear.\n And no man of them all repented that he came as a stranger\n here, 620\n For with open hand Sir Gawain his gifts upon all did shower\n In such wise that ye might have deemed well he drew nigh to\n his dying hour.\n And servant, and knight, and lady, they looked on his gifts\n so fair,\n And all, with one mouth, they praised him who brought help in\n their sore\n despair;\n\n And all, for his sake, were joyful--Then the hero he bade\n prepare 625\n Strong chargers, and well-trained palfreys, such as well\n might a lady bear.\n Nor the knights should be lacking armour--Strong squires in\n coat of mail\n Were ready to do his bidding, nor should one of their number\n fail.\n And in this wise he gave his orders, four knights he aside\n did take:\n His chamberlain one; and another, cup-bearer he fain would\n make; 630\n The third he would make his steward; and his marshal the\n fourth should be,\n For this was his prayer, and the four knights said 'Yea' to\n him willingly.\n\n At peace lay King Arthur's army, and no greeting did Gawain\n send,\n Yet I wot well it sorely grieved him! With the morning the\n host did wend,\n With the blast of many a trumpet, their way unto Ioflanz'\n plain, 635\n And the rear-guard was armed, yet no foeman did they find in\n their path again.\n\n Then Gawain took his office-bearers, and in this wise to them\n he spake,\n The marshal, he bade him straightway to Ioflanz his way to\n take,\n 'There a camp of my own prepare me--The host that thou here\n didst see\n Shall unto that plain have ridden, and its lord will I name\n to thee, 640\n For 'tis well that thou too shouldst know him, he is Arthur,\n my kinsman true,\n In whose court and whose care from my childhood I unto my\n manhood grew.\n Now do this thing in which I trust thee, rule my journey in\n such a wise,\n With such riches and pomp, that my coming be stately in all\n men's eyes;\n But within the walls of this castle no word of the truth be\n told-- 645\n That the king for my sake cometh hither, this must thou for\n secret hold!'\n\n So did they as Gawain bade them, and Plippalin\u00f2t he found\n Little space had he now for leisure, since his lord was on\n journey bound.\n For large and small his vessels, both boat and skiff, must\n fare\n O'er the water, and troops well arm\u00e8d, ahorse and afoot they\n bare. 650\n And the marshal the squires and footmen on the track of the\n Bretons led,\n And hither and thither riding behind them the army sped.\n\n And they bare with them, so 'twas told me, the tent that in\n days of yore\n Fair Iblis had sent to Klingsor, as pledge of the love she\n bore.\n By the sending of this love-token their secret to men was\n told, 655\n And the favour they bare each other in the days that have\n waxen old.\n And no cost had they spared who had wrought it, and no better\n was ever seen\n Save the tent of Eisenhart only--Then apart on the grass so\n green\n They set up the tent, and around it many others in goodly\n ring,\n And so great was the pomp and the riches that men deemed it a\n wondrous thing. 660\n\n And they spake before King Arthur that the marshal of Gawain\n came,\n And his lord the same day would follow, and encamp him upon\n the plain.\n 'Twas the talk of all the vassals--Then Gawain, from\n falsehood free,\n Rode forth from his home and there followed a goodly company.\n And their train was so richly ordered that marvels I here\n might tell! 665\n With church gear and chamber hangings the pack-steeds were\n burdened well;\n And some were with harness laden, and above the harness bare\n Full many a crested helmet, and shield that was blazoned\n fair.\n And many a gallant war-horse was led by the bridle rein,\n And behind them both knight and lady rode close in the\n glittering train. 670\n Would ye measure the length? a mile long, methinks, had it\n stretched, and more,\n And Sir Gawain, I ween, forgat not that a gallant knight\n should draw\n His rein by the side of each lady, and ever of love they\n spake,\n Or one scant of wit had deemed them! And in this wise the\n road they take,\n The Turkowit, brave Florand, for companion upon his way 675\n Had the daughter of Queen Arniv\u00e9, Sangiv\u00e9 of Norroway,\n And Lischois, who was ne'er unready, he rode at sweet\n Kondrie's side,\n And by Gawain the maid Itonj\u00e9, his sister, perforce must\n ride.\n At the same time the Queen Arniv\u00e9 and the Duchess of fair\n Logrois\n Rode gaily the one by the other, for in such wise they made\n their choice. 680\n\n Beyond the camp of King Arthur the tents of Gawain they lay,\n And they who were fain to reach them thro' the army must take\n their way.\n 'Twas a sight for all men to gaze at! Ere the folk to their\n journey's end\n Might come, of a courteous custom, to do honour unto his\n friend,\n Gawain by the tent of Arthur bade the first maiden take her\n stand, 685\n Then the marshal so did his office that the second, to her\n right hand,\n And the third beside the second, should unto each other ride,\n And none of them all delayed them--So made they a circle\n wide,\n Here the matrons, and there the maidens, and by each of them\n rode a knight\n Who would fain do the lady service, and would for her favours\n fight. 690\n And thus round the tent of the monarch stood the ladies, a\n goodly ring,\n And to Gawain, the rich in gladness, fair welcome would\n Arthur bring.\n\n To the ground sprang Gawain and Arniv\u00e9, and her daughters\n with children twain,\n The Lady of Logrois, and the heroes he o'erthrew on the\n grassy plain,\n Lischois and the gallant Florand; then unto those heroes\n brave 695\n Stepped Arthur from his pavilion, and a kindly welcome gave;\n And the queen, she greeted Gawain, and she welcomed him and\n his\n Of true heart, and from many a lady, I ween, was there many a\n kiss!\n\n Quoth Arthur unto his nephew, 'Say, who shall thy comrades\n be?'\n Quoth Gawain, 'A kiss of greeting from my lady I fain would\n see, 700\n 'Twere ill an she should refuse it, for noble are both I\n ween.'\n Then Florand and the Duke of Gowerzein were kissed by the\n gracious queen.\n\n Then into the tent they gat them, and to many the fair field\n wide\n Was as if it were full of maidens, so close stood they, side\n by side.\n Then not as the heavy-footed sprang Arthur upon his steed, 705\n And he turned to the knights and the ladies in the ring with\n a kindly heed,\n And he rode from one to the other, and gracious the words he\n spake,\n From the lips of the king so kindly each one must his welcome\n take.\n For this was the will of Gawain that no man from hence should\n ride\n Till he himself rode with them, but courteous his coming\n bide. 710\n\n Then the king would dismount, and straightway he entered the\n tent again,\n And he sat him beside his nephew, and straitly he prayed\n Gawain\n To say who were these five ladies, whom hither the knight did\n bring.\n Then Gawain he looked on the eldest and he spake to the\n Breton king,\n 'Didst thou know Uther Pendragon? 'Tis Arniv\u00e9, his queen and\n wife, 715\n And well mayst thou look upon her, from the twain didst thou\n draw thy life.\n And there standeth the Queen of Norway, and _I_ am the son\n she bare,\n And these twain they shall be my sisters; say, are they not\n maidens fair?'\n\n Ah! then once again they kissed them, and sorrow and joy were\n seen\n Of all those who looked upon them, from Love this their lot\n had been; 720\n And they laughed, and they cried together, and their lips\n spake of joy and woe,\n And I ween that with tears of gladness their bright eyes must\n overflow.\n Then Arthur he spake to Gawain, 'Nephew, unknown to me\n Is the fifth of these lovely ladies, I prithee who may she\n be?'\n\n 'The Duchess, is she, of Logrois,' quoth Gawain in his\n courtesy, 725\n 'In her service have I come hither, and, so it was told to\n me,\n Thou thyself hast sought her dwelling, and how it rejoiced\n thee there,\n Thou canst without shame declare us, as a widower dost thou\n fare.'\n Quoth Arthur, 'She doth, as her captive, thy kinsman Gaherjet\n hold,\n And Garel, who in many a conflict hath shown h'm a hero bold; 730\n From my very side was he taken, one charge had we made so\n nigh\n That almost we gained the portal, when lo! from the gate did\n fly\n Meljanz of Lys! How he battled! On high flew a banner white\n And the host who fought beneath it took captive my gallant\n knight.\n And the banner it bare a blazon of crimson, a bleeding heart, 735\n And right through the midst was it pierced by the shaft of a\n sable dart,\n As one who to death is smitten--'Lirivoin' was the battle-cry\n Of the army who fought beneath it, and their hand did the\n victory buy.\n My nephew, Iofreit, was taken, and grief for his sake I\n know--\n Yestreen did I keep the rear-guard, and the chance it hath\n worked me woe!' 740\n\n Sore mourned the king for his sorrow--quoth the Duchess, with\n courteous mien,\n 'Sire, I speak thee free of all shaming, I had greeted thee\n not, I ween.\n Thou mayst well have wrought me evil, tho' no wrong had I\n done to thee,\n And I would that God's wisdom teach thee that harm to make\n good to me.\n The knight to whose aid thou camest, if combat with me he\n dared, 745\n Hath found me, methinks, defenceless, with side to the foeman\n bared.\n If yet for such strife he lusteth, nor of conflict hath had\n his fill,\n With never a sword or a weapon I think to withstand him\n still.'\n Then Gawain, he quoth to King Arthur, 'Wilt thou that we fill\n the plain\n With knights? For we well can do so--I think me such grace to\n gain 750\n From the Duchess that all the captives from thine host she\n will swiftly free,\n And, many a new spear bearing, her knighthood we here may\n see.'\n 'Yea, such were my will,' quoth Arthur; then the Duchess she\n gave command,\n And many a gallant hero she summoned from Logrois' land--\n And I wot well a host so goodly the earth ne'er had seen\n before-- 755\n Then Gawain, he prayed leave of the monarch, he would to his\n tent withdraw,\n And the king's will was e'en as Gawain's, and all they who\n hither rode\n With the knight, they turned their bridles, and with him in\n his camp abode.\n And his tent was so rich and so goodly, as befitted a gallant\n knight,\n That afar from its costly trappings had poverty taken flight. 760\n\n And there rode unto his pavilion full many whose hearts were\n sore\n For the weary days since he left them, and the love they to\n Gawain bore.\n And the wounds of Kay had been heal\u00e8d since he jousted by\n Plimiz\u00f6l,\n And he looked on the wealth of Gawain, and with envy his\n heart was full,\n And he quoth, 'Now, King Lot, his father, my monarch's near\n of kin, 765\n Ne'er thought with such pomp to shame us, nor a camp of his\n own would win.'\n (For ever did he bethink him how Gawain would no vengeance\n take\n On the knight who so sorely smote him, when his right arm in\n joust he brake,)\n 'God worketh for _some_ His wonders,--Who gave Gawain this\n woman folk?'\n And the words they were scarce a friend's words that Kay in\n his anger spoke. 770\n\n Of the honour his friend hath won him the true knight is ever\n glad,\n But the faithless, aloud he crieth, and his heart ever waxeth\n sad\n When the heart of his friend rejoiceth, and he needs must his\n gladness see.\n Bliss and honour had fallen to Gawain; and, if one would more\n favoured be,\n I know not what thing he may wish for! Thus ever the evil\n mind 775\n Is with envy filled, while the brave man his comfort and joy\n doth find\n When honour shall seek his comrade, and shame from his face\n doth flee--\n Gawain ne'er forgat his knighthood, and from falsehood was\n ever free;\n And thus it was right and fitting that men on his bliss\n should gaze,\n And gladness and fair rejoicing henceforward should crown his\n days. 780\n In what wise for the folk that followed did the knight of\n Norway care,\n Alike for his knights and ladies? Not ill was, methinks,\n their fare.\n And Arthur and all his people they looked on King Lot's fair\n son,\n And I trow well they greatly marvelled at the riches his hand\n had won.\n Now the evening meal was ended, and 'twas time for the folk\n to sleep, 785\n And little I grudge their slumber! A guard thro' the night\n they keep,\n And lo! at the early morning, ere the dawning had waxed\n to-day,\n Came a folk in goodly armour, and the men of Logrois were\n they.\n And they read their helmet's token by the light of the waning\n moon,\n On this side lay the host of Arthur, and his camp had they\n passed full soon, 790\n And they came to the goodly circle where Gawain and his men\n should lie--\n And, methinks, who such gallant succour by the might of his\n hand could buy\n Were reckoned of men a hero! Then Gawain bade his Marshal\n find\n A place for the host to camp on, but, such was their leader's\n mind,\n He deemed it best that their circle apart from the rest\n should be, 795\n And 'twas even the hour of noontide ere all were lodged\n fittingly.\n\n Then Arthur, the noble monarch, a message would straightway\n send;\n Unto Rosche Sabbins, and the city, a squire on his way should\n wend\n To King Gramoflanz should he speak thus, 'Since conflict the\n king doth pray,\n And he lusteth to fight my nephew, the strife shall he not\n delay, 800\n For Sir Gawain is fain to meet him--But bid him to meet us\n here,\n As a gallant man do we know him, were he other, 'twould cost\n him dear!'\n\n And the messenger of King Arthur he rode on his errand fain--\n Then forth, with Lischois and Sir Florand, rode the gallant\n knight, Gawain,\n And he prayed them to show them to him who from many a land\n afar 805\n Had ridden for love's high service, and had fought in his\n lady's war.\n And he met them and gave them greeting in such wise that the\n heroes knew\n Sir Gawain for courteous lover, and faithful knight and true.\n\n With that again he left them, and in secret his way he sped,\n And he gat him again to his chamber, and he armed him from\n foot to head; 810\n He would know if his wounds were heal\u00e8d so that never a scar\n should pain,\n And his limbs would he test, since so many, both maiden and\n man were fain\n To look on the strife, had they wisdom they should see if his\n dauntless hand\n Might even to-day, as aforetime, the victor's crown command.\n A squire did he bid to bring him his charger, Gringuljet, 815\n And he sprang to the saddle lightly and the horse to a gallop\n set.\n He would try both himself and his charger, if ready for\n strife the twain--\n Ah! woe is me for his journey! so rode he upon the plain,\n And so had his Fortune willed it, that a knight his bridle\n drew\n By the side of the river Sabbins, and ye know that knight so\n true, 820\n And a rock, men well might call him, for manhood and courage\n high,\n And no knight might stand before him, and falsehood his heart\n did fly.\n And yet so weak was his body that no burden it bare of wrong,\n Yea, a hand's-breadth had been too heavy, and a finger-length\n too long!\n And, I ween, of this gallant hero of old time ye oft must\n hear, 825\n For my tale hath come to its root-tree, and draweth its goal\n anear.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XIV\n\nGRAMOFLANZ\n\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBOOK XIV. tells how Parzival and Gawain met and, unknowing,\n fought with\neach other, how Gawain was defeated, and of Parzival's grief when\n he\nlearnt with whom he had fought.\n\nHow the combat between Gawain and Gramoflanz was deferred till\n the\nmorrow; and how Parzival was welcomed at the court of King\n Arthur, and\nadmitted to the Brotherhood of the Round Table.\n\nHow Parzival, in Gawain's stead, fought with and overcame King\nGramoflanz, and how the latter sent messengers to King Arthur to\n pray\nthat none but Gawain should fight against him. Of the grief of\n Itonj\u00e9\nwhen she learnt how her brother would fight with King Gramoflanz,\n and\nhow she prayed the aid of King Arthur.\n\nHow Arthur and Brandelidelein made peace between the Duchess and\nGawain, and of the wedding feast that was held in the camp. Of\nParzival's sorrow and longing for his wife, and how ere the dawn\n of day\nhe stole in secret from the court.\n\n BOOK XIV\n\n GRAMOFLANZ\n\n If now the gallant Gawain a knightly joust would ride,\n Tho' never I feared for his honour yet I fear what may now\n betide.\n And tho' dear be the other's safety yet never a doubt I know,\n For he who in strife would face him an army had found for\n foe.\n O'er far seas, in the land of paynim, his helmet was\n fashioned fair, 5\n And ruby-red was his harness, and the trappings his charger\n bare.\n So rode he in search of adventure, and his shield it was\n pierc\u00e8d thro'--\n He had plucked for his helm a garland, and the tree where the\n garland grew\n Was the tree that Gramoflanz guarded; and Gawain knew the\n wreath again,\n And he thought, did the king here wait him it were counted to\n him for shame, 10\n If hither for strife he had ridden then strife there perforce\n must be,\n Tho' alone were the twain, and no lady the fate of their\n jousting see.\n\n From Monsalv\u00e4sch they came, the chargers, which each of the\n knights bestrode,\n And they spurred them alike to a gallop, and each 'gainst the\n other rode,\n On the dewy grass of the meadow, not the sand of the Tourney\n ring, 15\n Should the joust this morn be ridden; and I ween, as their\n deeds I sing,\n I had mourned for the harm of either--'Twas a fair joust they\n rode that morn,\n Of a race that fought fair and knightly was each gallant hero\n born;\n And little had been his winning, great his loss, who there\n won the prize,\n And ne'er had he ceased to mourn it, if he were in his\n calling wise. 20\n For faith had they pledged to each other, nor of old time,\n nor yet to-day,\n Had their love and their truth been wounded--Now hear how\n they fought the fray:\n\n Swiftly they rode, yet in such wise that each knight must\n mourn his fate--\n For kinsman and knightly brethren, in strength of foeman's\n hate,\n In strife had come together; and he who this joust should win 25\n His joy were the pledge of sorrow, and his deed must he count\n for sin--\n And each right hand it smote so surely that the comrades and\n foemen twain,\n With horse and with goodly harness, fell prone on the grassy\n plain.\n And then in such wise they bear them, with their swords such\n blows they smite,\n That their shields are hewn and riven, and cloven in deadly\n fight. 30\n And the splinters of shields, and the grass blades, were\n mingled upon the ground,\n And far other the look of the meadow ere their strife had its\n ending found;\n And too long must they wait for a daysman--'twas early when\n first they fought,\n And the hours sped by, and no man an end to their conflict\n brought,\n\n And no man was there beside them--Will ye hear how, the\n self-same day, 35\n King Arthur's knights to the army of King Gramoflanz made\n their way?\n On a plain by the sea he camped him--On the one side of the\n ground\n Flowed the Sabbins, and over against it the Poinzacleins its\n ending found.\n And the plain it was strongly guarded; Rosche Sabbins the\n citadel,\n With towers and with walls deep-moated, defended the fourth\n side well. 40\n And the host on the plain lay stretching its length for a\n mile and more,\n And half a mile broad had they deemed it--As the messengers\n toward it bore,\n Many unknown knights rode forward, archers, squires, with\n arms and spear,\n And behind them, with waving banners, did the mighty host\n draw near.\n\n With ringing blasts of trumpet would the army leave the\n plain, 45\n That very morn to Ioflanz marched the monarch and all his\n train.\n And clear rung the ladies' bridles as they circled around the\n king--\n And, if I may tell the story, the tidings I fain would bring\n Of those who had ridden hither, and camped on the sward so\n green,\n For Gramoflanz bade them hither, and his combat they fain had\n seen. 50\n If ye shall not before have heard it then here would I make\n it known,\n From Punt, the water-locked city, to his nephew's aid had\n flown\n Brandelidelein, and with him were six hundred ladies fair,\n By the side of each lovely lady her knight must his armour\n wear;\n For knighthood and love would he serve her--Of Punturtois,\n the gallant knights 55\n Were fain for this stately journey, in sooth 'twas a noble\n sight.\n\n And there rode, an ye will believe me, Count Bernard of\n Riviers,\n Rich Narant had been his father, and left Uckerland to his\n heir.\n And in many a ship o'er the water had he brought so fair a\n host\n Of ladies, that none gainsaid him who would make of their\n beauty boast. 60\n Two hundred of them were maidens, and two hundred already\n wed--\n And if I have rightly counted 'neath his banner Count Bernard\n led\n Five hundred knights well proven, who with him had sailed the\n sea,\n And each well might face a foeman, and each should a hero be.\n\n Thus King Gramoflanz would wreak vengeance in strife for the\n broken tree, 65\n For he deemed he should be the victor, and the folk should\n his prowess see.\n And the princes from out his kingdom, with many a valiant\n knight,\n And many a lovely lady, had come to behold the fight;\n And a goodly folk were gathered--Now Arthur's men drew near,\n And they looked upon the monarch, how they found him ye now\n shall hear. 70\n Of Palm\u00e2t was the high seat 'neath him, and with silk was the\n couch spread o'er,\n And maidens, so fair and graceful, they knelt low the king\n before,\n And with iron hose they shod him; and high o'er the monarch's\n head,\n A silk, Ecidemon-woven, both broad and long, was spread,\n On twelve spear-shafts tall was it lifted, from the sunlight\n to be a shade-- 75\n Then came the men of King Arthur, and this was the word they\n said:\n\n 'Sire, King Arthur hath hither sent us, and ever hath he been\n known\n As one whom all men have honoured, and whom all shall as\n victor own.\n Yea, honour enow is his portion--And yet wouldst thou mar his\n fame,\n Since upon the son of his sister thou thinkest to bring this\n shame! 80\n And e'en had Sir Gawain wrought thee worse ill by far, I\n ween,\n That the fame of the great Round Table might here for a\n shield have been.\n For brotherhood all have sworn him who sit at that noble\n board,\n And stainless shall be their knighthood who own Arthur for\n king and lord!\n\n Quoth the king, 'The strife I sware him e'en to-day my hand\n shall dare, 85\n And Gawain to-day shall face me, if well or if ill he fare.\n For this hath been truly told me, that King Arthur draweth\n near\n With his queen, and his host of warriors; I bid them welcome\n here!\n Tho' it may be the angry Duchess shall counsel him to mine\n ill,\n Yet hearken and heed, ye children, the strife shall be\n foughten still. 90\n For here have I many a follower, and hindered of none will\n be,\n What _one_ man can do unto me that bear I right joyfully!\n And if now I should fear to face that to which I my pledge\n have sworn,\n Of Love's service and Love's rewarding henceforward were I\n forlorn!\n In her favour I found aforetime my life and my life's best\n bliss-- 95\n God knoweth how _he_ hath pleased her, she oweth me much for\n this!--\n And tho' ever I did disdain me to fight with one man alone,\n Yet Gawain hath so bravely borne him that him as I my peer\n I'll own.\n And I think me I shame my manhood when such easy strife I\n fight;\n And yet have I fought, believe me, (ye can ask if it seem ye\n right,) 100\n With folk whom mine hand hath proven to be valiant men and\n true,\n But ne'er have I fought but _one_ man! No praise shall be\n here my due,\n From the lips of gracious women, tho' the victory be mine\n to-day--\n And greatly my heart rejoiceth that her bands have been reft\n away\n For whose sake I fight this conflict; so many a distant land 105\n Are vassals unto King Arthur, and pay tribute unto his hand,\n It may well be with him she cometh, for whose sake both joy\n and pain\n Unto death I would gladly suffer, if she be for my service\n fain.\n And what better fate can befall me than that this my fair lot\n shall be,\n That she looketh upon my service, and her eyes shall my\n victory see!' 110\n\n And near to the king sat Ben\u00e9, nor her heart for the strife\n did fail,\n For full oft had she seen his valour, and she deemed he might\n well prevail.\n But yet had she known that Gawain was brother unto the maid,\n And 'twas _he_ who now stood in peril, of a sooth had she\n been dismayed.\n\n A golden ring from Itonj\u00e9 she brought him for token fair, 115\n 'Twas the same as her gallant brother did over the Sabbins\n bear\n O'er the Poinzacleins came Ben\u00e9 in a boat, and this word she\n spake,\n 'From Ch\u00e2teau Merveil doth my lady, with the others, her\n journey take.'\n And she spake from the lips of Itonj\u00e9 such steadfast words\n and true,\n That more, from the lips of a maiden, I ween never monarch\n knew. 120\n And she prayed him to think of her sorrow, since all gain did\n she hold as naught\n For the gain of his love, and his service was all that her\n true heart sought.\n And glad was the king at the tidings, yet would fight with\n her brother still--\n 'Twere better I had no sister, such rewarding would please me\n ill!\n\n Then they bare unto him his harness, 'twas costly beyond\n compare-- 125\n No hero, by love constrain\u00e8d, who fought for love's guerdon\n fair,\n Were he Gamuret, or Galoes, or Killicrates, the valiant king,\n Had better decked his body the love of a maid to win--\n And no richer silk had been woven in Ipopotiticon,\n Or brought from Kalomedent\u00e9, or the city of Akraton, 130\n Or from far-off Agatyrsjent\u00e9, than the silk for his garment\n wove--\n Then he kissed the small ring golden, the pledge of Itonj\u00e9's\n love,\n For he knew her for true and faithful, and tho' peril upon\n him pressed,\n Yet the thought of her love and her longing would guard, as a\n shield, his breast.\n\n All armed was now the monarch; twelve maidens on palfreys\n fair, 135\n Each one a spear-shaft holding, the awning aloft would bear.\n And the king, he rode beneath it, and its shadow was o'er his\n head,\n As on to the strife he craved for the gallant hero sped.\n And on either side of the monarch there rode fair maidens\n twain,\n Tall and stately were they to look on, the noblest of all his\n train. 140\n The messengers of King Arthur no longer they made delay,\n And, behold! they met with Gawain as they rode on their\n homeward way,\n And ne'er had they felt such sorrow, their voices they raised\n on high,\n And they cried aloud for his peril, and their love and their\n loyalty.\n\n For the strife had near found its ending, and victor was\n Gawain's foe, 145\n For his strength, it was more than Gawain's, and well-nigh\n had he laid him low,\n When the pages who rode towards them called loudly on\n Gawain's name,\n For well did they know the hero, and it grieved them to see\n his shame.\n Then he, who erewhile would fight him, of conflict would have\n no more,\n But he cast from his hand his weapon, and he cried, as he\n wept full sore, 150\n 'Accurs\u00e8d am I, and dishonoured, and all blessing from me\n hath flown,\n Since my luckless hand, unwitting, so sinful a strife hath\n known.\n Methinks it is too unseemly! yea, guilty am I alway,\n And born 'neath a star of Ill Fortune, and forced from all\n bliss to stray.\n And the arms that to-day I carry are the same that of old I\n bore, 155\n For they are of Ill-luck the token, e'en to-day as they were\n of yore.\n Alas! that with gallant Gawain I have foughten so fierce a\n fight,\n 'Tis _myself_ whom I here have vanquished, and my joy shall\n have taken flight.\n With the first blow I struck against him misfortune hath\n reached my side,\n And peace shall have sped far from me, and her face from my\n face doth hide!' 160\n\n And Gawain heard, and saw his sorrow, and he spake out right\n wonderingly,\n 'Alas, Sir Knight, who art thou, who speakest thus well of\n me?\n If I might such words have hearkened the while I had strength\n and power,\n Then my honour had ne'er been forfeit, for the victory is\n thine this hour!\n And fain would I know how men call him with whom I shall find\n my fame, 165\n Since hereafter I needs must seek it, so tell me, I pray, thy\n name--\n For ever was I the victor when I fought with one man alone.'\n 'Yea, gladly my _name_ I'll tell thee who aforetime my _face_\n hast known,\n And true service I fain would do thee wherever such chance\n befall,\n For thy kinsman am I, and cousin, and men call me\n _Parzival_!' 170\n Then out quoth Gawain, 'So, 'tis fitting, here Folly her goal\n hath found,\n And her ways full straight hath she wroughten which aforetime\n but crooked wound.\n Here have two hearts, leal and faithful, their hate 'gainst\n each other shown,\n And thy hand which hath won the victory hath the twain of us\n overthrown.\n And for _both_ of us shalt thou sorrow, for thyself by\n thyself laid low, 175\n And the thought it shall surely grieve thee if thy true heart\n true faith doth know!'\n\n Then, e'en as the words were spoken, no longer the knight\n Gawain\n Might stand for very weakness, for the blows they had dulled\n his brain,\n And his footsteps they failed and faltered, and prone on the\n grass he lay--\n Then down sprang the squire of King Arthur, and aid did he\n bring straightway, 180\n For he lifted his head, and from off it he loosened the\n helmet's band,\n With his head-gear of peacock's feathers the face of Gawain\n he fanned\n Till his care new strength had brought him--Now on to the\n field did ride,\n From the armies twain, much people, they flocked hither from\n either side.\n And each one would seek his station, for here should the\n fight be fought, 185\n And the lists, they were set with tree-trunks, each smooth as\n a mirror wrought.\n\n Gramoflanz the cost had given, since from him had the\n challenge come,\n A hundred in all the tree-trunks, and brightly they shone\n each one.\n And no man should come within them, and the place between was\n wide,\n Full forty lengths from each other stood the fifty on either\n side, 190\n Each blazoned with many colours; and here should the combat\n be;\n And on either side the army from the strife should hold them\n free.\n As by moat and rampart sundered, so should they in peace\n remain,\n In this wise they sware, the foemen, King Gramoflanz and\n Gawain.\n\n To this combat, by none awaited, came the folk from either\n side, 195\n At the self-same hour, fain were they to know what should\n there betide,\n For they marvelled much who had fought here, and had shown\n such knightly skill;\n Or who should such strife have challenged, for alone was it\n foughten still,\n And neither side their comrades had bidden unto the ring,\n But alone had each knight come hither, and men deemed it a\n wondrous thing. 200\n But now as the fight was foughten on the flower-besprinkled\n plain,\n Came King Gramoflanz, to wreak vengeance for the garland upon\n Gawain;\n And he heard what thing had chanced there, that so fierce the\n fight had been\n That never a fiercer conflict with sword might a man have\n seen,\n And the twain who fought together had never a cause to\n fight-- 205\n Then the king, from out his army, rode straight to the\n gallant knights;\n\n And he found them battle-weary, and much he mourned their\n pain;\n Tho' scarcely his strength might bear him, up-sprang the\n knight Gawain,\n And the twain they stood together--Now Ben\u00e9 rode with the\n king,\n And with him, as the strife was ended, she came to the\n battle-ring, 210\n And she saw Gawain all powerless, whom, for honour and fair\n renown,\n O'er all the world had she chosen to crown with joy's fairest\n crown.\n With a cry of heartfelt sorrow from her palfrey the maiden\n sprung,\n And she spake, as her arms around him in a close embrace she\n flung,\n 'Accurst be the hand that such sorrow on so fair a form hath\n brought, 215\n For in sooth all manly beauty its mirror in thee hath\n sought!'\n On the sward did she bid him seat him, and, the while that\n she wept full sore,\n With tender hand from his eyelids she wiped the sweat and\n gore;\n\n And heavy and hot his harness--Then Gramoflanz quoth again,\n 'In sooth must I grieve for thy sorrow, since my hand wrought\n it not, Gawain; 220\n If to-morrow again thou comest, and wilt meet me upon this\n field,\n Then gladly will I await thee, and will face thee with spear\n and shield.\n _Now_ as lief would I fight with a woman as with thee, who\n art brought so low,\n For how shall I win me honour if strength shall have failed\n my foe?\n Go, rest thee to-day, for 'tis needful, and then wouldst thou\n take the place 225\n Of thy father, King Lot, I am ready to meet thee here, face\n to face.'\n\n But Parzival stood unwearied, nor as yet a sign he bare\n Of pallor, nor strength had failed him, and he faced the\n monarch fair,\n And he loosed from his head the helmet, that the king his\n face might see,\n And he spake, 'Sir, if this my cousin in aught shall have\n wrong\u00e8d thee 230\n Then take _me_ as his pledge, unwearied, as thou seest, is\n yet mine hand,\n And the wrath thou dost bear against him I may well with my\n sword withstand.'\n\n Then spake the King of Rosche Sabbins, 'Sir Knight, at the\n morrow's morn\n For my garland he payeth tribute, and its fame shall anew be\n born,\n Or to such a pass shall he bring me that shame shall my\n portion be-- 235\n Thou mayst otherwise be a hero, but this conflict is not for\n _thee_!'\n\n In wrath spake the lips of Ben\u00e9, 'Fie on thee! thou faithless\n hound,\n Thro' him whom thy false heart hateth thine heart hath its\n freedom found.\n She to whom thou wouldst do love-service, she liveth at his\n command,\n Thyself hast renounced the victory which else might have\n crowned thine hand. 240\n Thou hast no claim on Love's rewarding, and if ever within\n thine heart\n Love had for awhile her dwelling with falsehood she bare a\n part!'\n As thus she waxed full wrathful, Gramoflanz led the maid\n aside,\n And quoth,'Now, Lady, grieve not, this strife must needs\n betide.\n But stay thou here with thy master, and say to his sister\n sweet 245\n That I am in truth her servant, in all that a knight finds\n meet.'\n\n But now as Ben\u00e9 hearkened, and knew of a truth Gawain\n Was brother unto her lady, and must fight on the grassy\n plain,\n Then drave griefs plough its furrows thro' her heart, both\n deep and sore,\n And filled them with flood of sorrow, for truth in her heart\n she bore. 250\n And she quoth, 'Ride hence, accurs\u00e8d, thou false and\n faithless one,\n For steadfast love and loyal thine heart hath never won!'\n\n The king and his knights they rode hence, and the lads of\n Arthur's train\n They took the heroes' chargers, weary with strife the twain.\n Then Parzival, and Gawain, and Ben\u00e9, that maiden bright, 255\n They rode to the camp of King Arthur with many a gallant\n knight.\n And Parzival in manhood had so borne the prize away\n That all men were glad at his coming, and rejoiced in his\n fame that day.\n\n And more, if I can, would I tell ye--the wise men of either\n host\n Spake but of this man, of his valour in this wise they made\n their boast, 260\n 'Wot ye well who hath here been victor? 'Twas Parzival, he\n alone!'\n And so fair was his face to look on none fairer was ever\n known.\n So thought they who looked upon him, and they swear it, both\n man and maid--\n So he came to the tent of Gawain; and little his host\n delayed,\n But he bade them bring costly raiment, and rich as was his\n own gear, 265\n And alike were they clad, the heroes, and all folk must the\n marvel hear\n That Parzival came among them, of whose glory all men had\n heard,\n And the fame of his deeds so knightly, and no mouth but spake\n this word.\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'Art thou fain to look on four queens who are\n kin to thee,\n And other fair ladies with them, then thy guide will I gladly\n be.' 270\n Quoth Gamuret's son, 'If fair ladies be here thou shalt vex\n them not\n With the sight of my face, for no kindness from woman shall\n be my lot\n Since by Plimiz\u00f6l's bank they hearkened to the shame that\n upon me fell:\n May their honour of God be guarded, for ever I wish them\n well,\n But my shame weigheth heavy on me, and it vexeth so sore my\n heart, 275\n I were fain ne'er to look on woman, but live me a life apart'\n\n 'Yet so must it be,' quoth Gawain; then Parzival he led\n To the four queens, who gave him greeting and kissed him with\n lips so red.\n But sorely it vexed the Duchess, that she, too, must kiss\n this knight,\n Who little had cared for her kisses, nor would for her\n favours fight-- 280\n Tho' her lands and her love she proffered when he before\n Logrois fought,\n And she rode far to overtake him--thus shame in her anger\n wrought.\n But the others they spake him gently, with never a thought of\n wrong,\n Till shame from his heart was driven, and joy in its stead\n waxed strong.\n\n Then Gawain of right and reason, if Ben\u00e9 his grace would\n hold, 285\n Bade her seal her lips to silence, to her lady no word be\n told,\n 'That King Gramoflanz for his garland doth hatred toward me\n bear,\n And at the set time to-morrow our strife must be foughten\n fair,\n Speak no word of this to my sister, and do thou thy tears\n give o'er;'\n And she spake, 'I do well to weep thus, and to mourn, and to\n sorrow sore, 290\n For whoever shall fall in the combat my lady must sorrow\n know,\n And however the battle goeth, the issue shall be for woe.\n And well may we mourn the venture, my lady and I alike,\n What boots it to be her brother, if thou at her heart wilt\n strike?'\n\n Now the host to their tents betook them, and the mid-day meal\n was spread 295\n For Gawain, and the knights and ladies who should break at\n his table bread,\n And Parzival as companion should have the Duchess fair--\n And Gawain, he besought his lady for the hero to have good\n care;\n But she quoth, 'To my care dost thou give him, who can make\n of a woman sport?\n How should I care for this man? Yet would I gainsay thee\n naught; 300\n And if this be thy will, I will do it, tho' for payment I\n mocking know'--\n Quoth Gamuret's son, 'Nay, Lady, thou doest me wrong I trow,\n At least have I so much wisdom, if I know myself aright,\n That women are free from my mocking, since ill 'twould beseem\n a knight!'\n\n Whatever they set before them no lack had they there of meat, 305\n And courteous was their service, and with joy all the folk\n did eat.\n But Itonj\u00e9, she looked on Ben\u00e9, and she read in her eyes the\n tale\n Of the tears she had wept but lately, and for sorrow her\n cheeks grew pale,\n And nothing she ate, for she thought still, 'Now wherefore\n doth Ben\u00e9 weep?\n For I sent her but now to the monarch who my heart doth his\n captive keep, 310\n And for whose sake I grieve me sorely--Have I done aught to\n vex my knight?\n Doth he think to renounce my service and no more for my love\n to fight?\n If, with steadfast heart and manly, he thinketh on me no\n more,\n Poor maid, I must die of sorrow, and the love that to him I\n bore!'\n\n The noontide hour was over ere the feast had ended here, 315\n Then hither rode King Arthur, and his queen, fair Guinevere,\n With a host of knights and ladies, to where, within their\n sight,\n Mid the band of gracious maidens sat that true and valiant\n knight;\n And to Parzival such greeting and such welcome fair they gave\n That from many sweet lips sweet kisses he won, that hero\n brave! 320\n And Arthur would do him honour, and with many a gracious word\n He thanked him for the valour that had spread his name\n abroad,\n And the fame that had waxed so goodly, and that stood so high\n and fair,\n That of right o'er all men living the crown of worth he bare.\n\n Quoth the Waleis unto King Arthur, 'Yet Sire, when I saw thee\n last 325\n My honour so sore was wounded that it well-nigh to earth was\n cast;\n And in knighthood I paid such forfeit that of knighthood was\n I forlorn--\n But now have I hearkened to thee, and if thou be not forsworn\n Then honour still dwelleth with me, tho' my heart it misgives\n me sore!\n I would trust in thy word right gladly--But what of these\n knights who swore 330\n True friendship and brotherhood with me, and from whom I must\n part in shame?'\n Then all with one voice they spake there--He had won for\n himself such fame\n And had wrought such brave deeds of knighthood in many a\n distant land,\n That his fame o'er the fame of all others did high and\n unspotted stand.\n\n Then the knights of the Duchess' army they came where by\n Arthur's side 335\n Sat Parzival, fair to look on, 'mid the knightly circle wide.\n And the king in the tent received them, but so courtly was he\n and wise,\n That, tho' wide was the tent of Gawain, he thought best that\n in all men's eyes\n He should sit without on the meadow, and the knights they\n should sit around,\n And strangers they were to each other who place in the circle\n found. 340\n Would ye know who was this and that one? The tale it were all\n too long\n If Christian I named and paynim--Who were Klingsor's warriors\n strong;\n Who were they who so well were arm\u00e8d, and showed them such\n men of might\n When they rode from the city of Logrois, and would for their\n Duchess fight;\n Who had followed King Arthur hither--If each one, his land\n and kin, 345\n I named in their rightful order 'twere ill to the end to win!\n But all men they spake together, there was none there like\n Parzival,\n For his face and his form so lovely many women might love him\n well;\n And nothing there failed unto him of aught that beseemed a\n knight\n Who beareth the crown of honour, and fighteth a goodly fight. 350\n\n Then Gamuret's son upstood there, and he spake, 'Ye who shall\n be here\n Give counsel, and help me win that which my soul ever holdeth\n dear;\n A strange and a hidden wonder it drave me from out your\n band--\n Ye who brotherhood once have sworn me, and in friendship have\n clasped my hand,\n Now help me, by this your knighthood, mine honour to win\n again!' 355\n And gladly would Arthur grant him that for which his desire\n was fain.\n\n Then aside with few folk he stepped him, and straitly he\n prayed this grace,\n That the strife, at the hour appointed, he in Gawain's stead\n might face,\n 'Right gladly will I defy him, King Gramoflanz, in his pride;\n I brake from his tree this morning a bough ere I thence did\n ride, 360\n And for that he of need must fight me--For conflict I sought\n his land,\n And for nothing else came I hither but to fight with his\n strong right hand.\n I thought not I here should find thee, my cousin, it grieves\n me sore,\n For this king did I surely take thee, who never from strife\n forbore.\n Now let me, I prithee, fight him; if ever he know defeat 365\n My hand shall such lesson teach him as he findeth not over\n sweet!\n They have given me back mine honour, and thy brother knight\n am I,\n And thy kinsman true, fair cousin, so grant to me, cousinly,\n That this combat be mine--I swear thee for us twain will I\n face the foe,\n And there do such deeds of valour that all men shall my\n manhood know!' 370\n\n Quoth Gawain, 'In the court of King Arthur have I many a\n brother dear,\n And kinsman true, yet to no man may I grant what thou prayest\n here.\n My cause is so good, I think me, that Fate so shall rule the\n fight\n That I stand at the last the victor, tho' my foe be a man of\n might.\n God reward thee that thou, of thy kindness, this conflict for\n me wouldst face, 375\n But the day is not yet in its dawning when another may take\n my place!'\n\n Now Arthur the prayer had hearkened, of their speech he an\n end would make,\n Once more in the ring beside them his seat did the monarch\n take.\n And the cup-bearers did not tarry, the noble youths they bare\n Many golden cups so precious, and wroughten with jewels fair, 380\n Nor one alone could fill them--and when their task was o'er\n The folk uprose, and gat them each one to his rest once more.\n\n And night-fall had come upon them--Naught did Parzival delay,\n But he wrought in such wise that his harness might be ready\n ere break of day.\n Were a strap or a fastening broken, of that did he have good\n care, 385\n And he bade them look well unto it, that all should be fit\n and fair.\n And a shield new and strong must they bring him, for his own,\n in many a fight,\n With many a blow was cloven, and they brought him a shield of\n might;\n And the serving-men who bare it, they knew not the knight, I\n trow,\n And Frenchmen were some among them, as the venture doth bid\n ye know. 390\n And the steed that erewhile to jousting the Knight of the\n Grail must bear,\n Of that did a squire bethink him, and ne'er might it better\n fare.\n But now 'twas the hour for slumber, and the night had\n o'ercome the day,\n And Parzival slept, and before him all ready his armour lay.\n\n And King Gramoflanz, he rued it that the day such chance had\n brought 395\n That another man in his presence for the sake of his garland\n fought;\n Nor his folk might still his longing for the strife that the\n morn should bring,\n And the thought, that he had delayed him, full sorely it\n vexed the king.\n What, then, should the hero do here? Since honour he sought\n and fame,\n He scarce might await the dawning, and the strife that with\n daylight came, 400\n But ere sunrise himself and his charger were clad all in\n harness rare--\n Did women, with wealth o'erburdened, the cost of his decking\n share?\n I wot that, without their aiding, it costly and fair should\n be,\n For the sake of a maid did he deck him, in her service no\n laggard he!\n So he rode hence to seek his foeman, and sorely it vexed the\n king 405\n That the early light of the morning Sir Gawain had failed to\n bring.\n\n Now, unknown unto all, in secret stole Parzival from the\n court,\n And he stripped of its floating pennon a strong spear from\n Angram brought;\n And fully armed was the hero, and lonely he took his way\n Where the posts round the ring of battle shone fair in the\n dawning day. 410\n And he saw the king await him, and ere ever a word they spake\n Men say that they smote each other thro' the shield, and the\n spear-shafts brake;\n And from either hand the splinters flew high in the summer\n air,\n For skilled were they both in jousting, and their swords they\n right well might bear.\n And the dew was brushed from the meadow, and the helmets felt\n many a blow 415\n From the edge of the blades keen-tempered, no faltering might\n either know.\n\n And the grass underfoot was trodden, and the dew-drops in\n many a place\n Swept away, and I needs must mourn here the red blossoms'\n vanished grace.\n Yet more do I mourn for the heroes, and their toil without\n thought of fear,\n And who with unmixed rejoicing, the tale of their strife\n should hear 420\n To whom they had ne'er done evil?--Then Gawain must himself\n prepare\n For the toil and the stress of battle, and the peril he\n thought to dare.\n And 'twas even the midst of the morning ere of all men the\n tale was told\n From his tent was Parzival missing, and they sought for the\n hero bold.\n Did he think to make peace? Nay, his bearing spake little,\n methinks, of peace, 425\n For he fought as a man, and 'twas noontide ere ever the\n strife might cease.\n\n A bishop sang Mass for Gawain, and the folk they stood thick\n around,\n And many a knight and lady on horseback might there be found,\n Without the tent of King Arthur, ere the Mass to an end they\n sing--\n While the priest did his holy office, beside him there stood\n the king; 430\n When he spake the Benediction, then Gawain armed himself for\n fight,\n And greaves of iron, well wroughten, they did on his limbs of\n might.\n Then uprose a voice of wailing from the women, and one and\n all\n The host rode forth to the meadow; and lo! there did strife\n befall,\n And they heard the clash of the sword-blades, and they saw\n the fire-sparks fly 435\n From the helmets as there the foemen their blows with fierce\n strength did ply.\n King Gramoflanz oft had boasted he would scorn with _one_ man\n to fight,\n He thought here that _six_ were his foemen, and each one a\n valiant knight\n Yet none but Parzival faced him, and he fought in such\n gallant wise,\n That he taught to the king a lesson which men e'en to-day may\n prize; 440\n That in his own praise his own lips should speak never more\n this tale,\n He could fight and could conquer _two_ men, since o'er _one_\n he might not prevail.\n\n From left and from right came the armies, o'er the grassy\n plain so wide,\n And, each one their station keeping, they halted on either\n side,\n And they looked on the mighty combat, on one side the\n chargers stood, 445\n And afoot on the ground they battled with sword-blades, the\n heroes good.\n And sharp and sore was the conflict, and steadfast the twain\n did stand,\n And their swords on high they tossed them, and oft did the\n blades change hands.\n\n Now Gramoflanz reaped sore payment for the garland from off\n his tree,\n To the kinsman of his fair lady should the strife none too\n easy be. 450\n His kinship with fair Itonj\u00e9 had stood Parzival in good\n stead,\n If right might have claimed a hearing, yet was not his strife\n ill-sped.\n And they who much fame had won them, again for fair fame\n would fight;\n And one strove for the sake of his kinsman, and one for his\n lady bright,\n For he did but Frau Minne's bidding, as was meet for her\n vassal true-- 455\n Now uprode the gallant Gawain, and e'en as he nearer drew\n The conflict was nigh its ending, and the Waleis should\n victor be;\n And, bareheaded, unto the battle, there hastened those heroes\n three,\n Brandelidelein of Punturtois, and Count Bernard of Riviers,\n And the third knight who rode beside them was Affinamus of\n Clitiers. 460\n From the army over against them came King Arthur beside\n Gawain,\n To the two knights, with battle wearied, they rode o'er the\n grassy plain;\n And all the five they thought them 'twas time that the strife\n should end,\n And Gramoflanz must confess here that no longer he might\n contend,\n And his own mouth proclaimed him vanquished, and his foeman\n had won the day-- 465\n And the folk who had seen the combat might never his word\n gainsay!\n\n Then out spake King Lot's son gaily, 'Sir King, I will speak\n to thee\n To-day, as yestreen thou spakest when rest thou didst bid to\n _me_\n \"_Go rest thee to-day, for 'tis needful_,\" he who conflict\n did here demand,\n He will own thou art all too feeble this day to resist mine\n hand. 470\n _Alone_ I might well have faced thee, but thou with but _two_\n wilt fight!\n To-morrow I'll dare the venture, and may God show forth the\n right!'\n Then the king he rode to his army, but first must he pledge\n his word\n He would meet Gawain on the morrow, and face him with spear\n and sword.\n\n To Parzival quoth King Arthur, 'Nephew, thou late didst pray, 475\n Of thy manhood, to fight this combat for Gawain, and he said\n thee Nay,\n And therein didst thou sore lament thee, and yet thou this\n fight hast fought\n For him who did strait forbid thee! Of our will hast thou\n asked us naught.\n From our court, as a thief, hast thou stolen, or else had we\n held thine hand\n Afar from this strife, I wot well thou didst fight not at\n _our_ command! 480\n Yet Gawain, he shall not be wrathful, tho' great praise be\n for this thy meed.'--\n Quoth Gawain, 'Nay, it nothing grieves me, my cousin's\n gallant deed,\n To-morrow is all too early if this combat I needs must face,\n An the king would withdraw his challenge I would count it to\n him for grace.'\n\n To the camp rode the mighty army, there were many ladies\n fair, 485\n And many a knight in armour, and costly the arms they bare.\n And I ween that never an army was so richly decked before,\n For the knights of the good Round Table, and the men of the\n Duchess wore\n Fair surcoats richly blazoned, of silk from Zinidunt,\n And bright was their outer garments, and brought from far\n Pelpiunt. 490\n But the heroes in either army spake ever of Parzival,\n And their lips, in such wise they praised him, that his\n friends it rejoiced them well.\n And the men of Gramoflanz spake thus, that never the sun had\n shone\n On a knight who fought so bravely, or such gallant deeds had\n done;\n And whatever feats of knighthood had been wrought on either\n side, 495\n Yet he, o'er all other heroes, the victor should still abide.\n Yet they knew not of whom they spake thus, nay, neither his\n race or name,\n Tho' the army it rang with his praises, and no mouth but\n declared his fame.\n\n Then Gramoflanz did they counsel, King Arthur he well might\n pray\n To take good heed to his army that no knight from his ranks\n should stray 500\n For combat, as e'en that morning, but to send unto him _one_\n knight,\n The son of King Lot, Sir Gawain, for with _him_ had he come\n to fight.\n And straightway he sent the message by two courtly lads and\n wise,\n And he spake, 'Now look well for the maiden who is fairest in\n all men's eyes,\n Look well by whom Ben\u00e9 sitteth; and so ye play well your\n part, 505\n Ye shall see in what wise she bear her, if joyful, or sad at\n heart.\n Ye shall prove these her ways in secret, in her eyes ye right\n well may see\n If yet for a friend she mourneth; and this too your task\n shall be,\n Ye shall give to my friend, fair Ben\u00e9, this letter and golden\n ring,\n She knoweth for whom is the token--Now see that ye do this\n thing!' 510\n\n In the other camp, the meanwhile, did Itonj\u00e9 the tidings hear\n That her gallant brother, Gawain, and he whom her soul held\n dear,\n The fairest knight that a maiden within her heart might hold,\n Would fight, the one with the other, and their hand might no\n man withhold.\n Then her maiden shame it yielded to the flood of her grief so\n sore, 515\n And none shall rejoice at her sorrow, for the pain undeserved\n she bore.\n\n Then her mother and Queen Arniv\u00e9 they led the maid aside\n To a tent so small and silken, and Arniv\u00e9 her grief would\n chide,\n And she bade her cease her weeping--There was naught that the\n maid might say,\n But to speak aloud the secret she hid in her heart alway; 520\n Then out quoth the royal maiden, 'Of my brother shall he be\n slain\n Who is lord of my heart and my true love! Let his hand from\n such deed refrain!'\n\n To a noble youth spake Arniv\u00e9, 'Now get thee unto my son,\n And bid him come hither quickly, with him would I speak\n alone.'\n Then the lad he brought King Arthur--Now this was Arniv\u00e9's\n mind, 525\n If she told unto him the story perchance he might counsel\n find,\n And by him should that strife be hindered, for which the\n maiden fair\n So sorely wept, and such sorrow and anguish of heart must\n bear.\n\n Now they came to the camp of King Arthur, who Gramoflanz'\n message bore,\n By the silken tent they dismounted; there sat Ben\u00e9 before the\n door, 530\n And within spake the maid to King Arthur, 'If my brother\n shall slay my king\n To pleasure his faithless Duchess, doth he deem that shall\n honour bring?\n He might know of himself it were ill-done--He hath wronged\n him no whit I ween,\n That he doeth to _me_ true service, his safety might well\n have been!\n If my brother be yet in his senses he doth of our true love\n know, 535\n How pure it is, and how faithful, and this venture should\n work him woe.\n A bitter death shall it bring me, the hand that my love doth\n kill--\n Sir King, thou shalt mourn my sorrow, and I think not that\n such thy will,'\n Spake the fair maid unto King Arthur, 'Forget not that thou\n shalt be\n Mine uncle, and stay this combat which worketh such ill to\n me!' 540\n\n Quoth Arthur aloud in his wisdom, 'Alas, thou fair niece of\n mine,\n That thus young thou canst love so dearly, for sorrow shall\n sure be thine,\n As sorrow befell thy sister, Surdamur, for her love so true\n To the Emperor of Greece--Sweet maiden, thy will might I\n surely do,\n And hinder this strife, if I knew well that ye twain were but\n one in heart-- 540\n Yet King Irot's son, he is valiant, and courage in him hath\n part,\n And this combat he'll fight, full surely, an Love stay not\n his hand so bold--\n Did he ne'er, in a joyful moment, thy fair face and sweet\n lips behold?'\n\n And she spake, 'Nay, we love, but neither as yet hath the\n other seen,\n Tho' of true love many a token from his hand hath my portion\n been. 550\n And tokens true have I sent him, that no doubt should betwixt\n us lie--\n No falsehood my king's heart ruleth, but he loveth me\n steadfastly!'\n\n Then the maiden Ben\u00e9 saw them, and knew them, the squires\n twain\n Who came to the court of King Arthur from Gramoflanz' kingly\n train,\n And she spake, 'Here should no man linger, will ye that I bid\n them go, 555\n The folk, from our tent? It were ill-done, methinks, that all\n men should know\n How sorely my lady sorroweth for the sake of her love so\n dear;\n Methinks it might lightly happen that too many the tale\n should hear!'\n Then forth from the tent went Ben\u00e9, and in secret unto her\n care\n The squire gave the folded letter, and the golden ring he\n bare, 560\n And they, too, had heard the wailing of the maid, and they\n knew full well\n Why she sorrowed, and this their errand they fain to the king\n would tell.\n And they asked of the maiden Ben\u00e9 if she their friend would\n be?\n And she spake, 'Stand without the circle till I bid ye to\n come to me!'\n\n Then Ben\u00e9, the gentle maiden, she told them within the tent 565\n That without two squires were waiting, from Gramoflanz hither\n sent,\n And fain would they speak with King Arthur--'But unfitting it\n seemeth me\n That we call them unto our counsels, and that witnesses they\n should be.\n On my lady must I avenge me, if thus they shall see her weep,\n I bade them await my bidding, and without there their station\n keep!' 570\n\n Quoth Arthur, 'Are they the pages whom I saw behind me ride?\n Of noble birth shall the twain be, methinks, it might well\n betide\n That so wise are they both and courteous they might give us\n counsel good,\n Methinks of their king's love either would treat in a fitting\n mood?'\n Quoth Ben\u00e9, 'Nay, that I know not, but Sire, of thy grace,\n this ring 575\n And the letter which now I bring thee, they bare hither from\n their king.\n As but now I left the pavilion, of the pages, one gave it me.\n Now see, Lady, do thou take it, for methinks it is meant for\n thee!'\n\n Then Itonj\u00e9, she kissed the letter, and she held it unto her\n heart,\n And she quoth, 'Now, Sire, thou canst see here if he would in\n my love have part.' 580\n In his hand Arthur took the letter, and within he found\n written fair\n The words of one who loveth, and his passion would fain\n declare.\n For Gramoflanz' hand had written the words that his lips\n would say,\n And Arthur, he saw by the letter that Love held o'er his\n heart such sway\n That ne'er had he known aforetime one who loved with so true\n a love-- 585\n And the words that within were written Frau Minne might well\n approve.\n\n 'Now greeting to whom I owe greeting, whose greeting I fain\n would earn,\n To thee, O thou gracious maiden, whose heart toward my heart\n doth turn!\n Who with comfort would fain console me--Our love goeth\n hand-in-hand,\n And the solace thy love would bring me doth high o'er all\n solace stand; 590\n And my joy in thy love is rooted, and my faith is to thee\n held fast,\n And sorrow and bitter anguish shall forth from my heart be\n cast.\n And thou bringest me help and counsel, so that never an evil\n thought\n Or a faithless deed, and shameful, shall against my fame be\n brought.\n But I look on thy truth and thy beauty with ever a steadfast\n mind, 595\n As the Pole-star doth in the north pole the goal of its\n gazing find,\n And neither its post forsaketh; e'en so shall our true love\n be,\n And waver not, one from the other--So think thou, sweet maid,\n on me,\n How I mourned unto thee my sorrow, nor be weary of this my\n prayer--\n And if one would part thee from me, for the hatred that he\n shall bear 600\n Unto me, then shalt thou bethink thee how thy love shall\n reward us both,\n And think thou of woman's honour, nor be of thy favours loth;\n But still let me be thy servant, in thy service I fain would\n live,\n And, in all that I may, true service I will to my lady give!'\n\n Quoth Arthur, 'Fair niece, thou saidst truly, he greeteth\n thee without guile 605\n Such tale doth this letter tell me that never, at any while,\n Have I found of true love such marvel! His grief shalt thou\n put away,\n As he too shall cure thy sorrow, so do thou thy weeping stay,\n And trust unto me, this combat shall be hindered--Yet say\n thou here,\n Thou wert captive, how hath it chanced then that ye hold each\n other dear? 610\n Thou shalt give him thy fair love's payment, that he do thee\n service true.'--\n Spake Itonj\u00e9, 'See, here she standeth who us twain together\n drew,\n Our love, it had else been hidden--If thou will that I now\n may see\n Him whom my heart desireth she will summon him unto me!'\n\n Quoth Arthur, 'Now, show her to me; if I may, I this thing\n will guide 615\n That your will shall be done, and hereafter ye twain shall in\n joy abide!'\n Quoth Itonj\u00e9, ''Twas none but Ben\u00e9; and two of his squires\n are here,\n If thou wilt, do this thing, (for I think me my life shall to\n thee be dear,)\n Thou shalt see that the king cometh hither, that he looketh\n upon my face\n In whom all my joy is hidden, and my life shall be in his\n grace!' 620\n\n Then Arthur, the wise and courteous, would speak with the\n squires without,\n He greeted them as he saw them, and boldly the one spake out,\n 'Sire, King Gramoflanz, he prays thee, for thine honour as\n knight and king,\n That the oath sworn 'twixt him and Gawain thou wilt to\n fulfilment bring.\n And further, Sire, he prays thee that none other with him\n shall fight, 625\n So great is thine host, must he face _all_, methinks it would\n scarce be right!\n But _Gawain_ shalt thou send against him, for he willeth no\n other foe,\n And Gawain alone hath he challenged, as thyself thou shalt\n surely know!'\n\n Quoth King Arthur unto the pages, 'I will free us from blame\n alway,\n And sorely it grieved my nephew that he fought not the strife\n to-day. 630\n And the knight who fought with your monarch, to victory was\n he born,\n The son of Gamuret is he--Three armies are here this morn,\n And from many a land came they hither, but never a man hath\n seen\n In combat so brave a hero, and glorious his deeds have been.\n He is Parzival, my kinsman, ye shall see him, the fair of\n face,-- 635\n For the faith and the need of Gawain will I do to the king\n this grace.'\n\n Then King Arthur and maiden Ben\u00e9, with the squires they rode\n here and there,\n And in sooth those squires they looked on full many a lady\n fair,\n And they saw on the jewelled helmets many proud crests and\n knightly wave,\n And few for such sight shall vex them, for he who is rich as\n brave 640\n Full many a friend he findeth! They 'lighted not from their\n steed,\n And the bravest men of the armies that lay camped on the\n flowery mead\n King Arthur would show unto them, they might gaze on them at\n their will,\n Knights, ladies, and gentle maidens, of beauty they saw their\n fill!\n\n In three portions it lay, the army, and two spaces there were\n between-- 645\n Then away from the camp rode King Arthur, far out on the\n plain so green,\n And he quoth, 'Now sweet maiden Ben\u00e9, her plaint didst thou\n hear alway,\n Itonj\u00e9, the child of my sister, her weeping she will not\n stay.\n These my comrades who ride beside me, if they will, they may\n well believe\n Of her beauty their king hath robbed her, so sorely the maid\n doth grieve! 650\n Now help me, ye twain, and thou, Ben\u00e9, that the king he shall\n hither ride,\n E'en to-day, tho' the strife to-morrow he may, if he will,\n abide.\n I will bring Gawain to meet him on the plain, as he prayed\n but now--\n If he cometh to-day to mine army 'gainst the morn is he armed\n I trow,\n For Love such a shield shall give him that his foeman may ill\n withstand 655\n The courage that Love doth kindle, and that nerveth anew the\n hand.\n And his princes shall he bring with him, for here would I do\n as best\n Doth lie in my power that the Duchess shall hearken to my\n behest,\n And peace shall be sealed between them--Now strive ye, my\n comrades dear,\n With skill for such happy ending, 'twill be to your honour\n here. 660\n And further I make my mourning, wherein shall have been my\n sin\n That I wrought 'gainst your king that he beareth, in such\n measure, against my kin,\n Both love alike and hatred? Methinks, he doth hold us light!\n Another king, mine equal, had thought more of this my right.\n Doth he think to repay with hatred _her_ brother, who loves\n him well? 665\n If his heart such thought shall teach him, then he knoweth\n not true Love's spell!'\n\n Quoth one of the squires to King Arthur, 'What my king did to\n thee of ill,\n That, Sire, shall he do no longer, for courteous shall he be\n still.\n But thou knowest well the old hatred, and 'twere better the\n king should stay\n Within his camp, I think me, than ride to thine host to-day. 670\n Of the same mind is still the Duchess, that she counteth him\n for her foe,\n And maketh her plaint against him, as many a man doth know!'\n 'With but few folk shall he come hither,' quoth Arthur, 'the\n while I'll pray\n Of that high and noble lady that her anger she put away.\n And an escort good I'll send him, Beau-corps, my sister's\n son, 675\n Shall meet him half-way, and his journey shall under my care\n be done.\n Nor as shame shall he look upon it, for brave men and true\n I'll send'--\n Then leave did they take of King Arthur, and their way to the\n camp they wend.\n\n Alone did they leave the monarch, and Ben\u00e9 and the pages\n twain\n Rode swiftly unto Rosche Sabbins, on the further side of the\n plain. 680\n 'Twas the fairest day of his life-time, so thought the joyful\n king,\n When his squires and the maiden Ben\u00e9 such tidings to him\n might bring.\n And e'en as he hearkened to them his heart spake, in sooth\n to-day\n Good Fortune had thought upon him, and his sorrow was put\n away!\n\n Then he spake, 'He would come, right gladly,' and he chose to\n him comrades three, 685\n A prince of his land was each one who bare the king company.\n Brandelidelein, his uncle, with his nephew was fain to ride,\n Affinamus of Clitiers, and Count Bernard of Riviers rode\n beside.\n And each man he chose another who should be for such journey\n meet,\n And twelve in all might ye reckon who rode hence the king to\n greet. 690\n And many a squire went with them, and many a footman strong,\n Well arm\u00e8d, as should befit them, did unto the train belong.\n\n Would ye know how the knights had robed them? Of silk was\n their raiment bright,\n And heavy with gold inwoven that shone in the morning light.\n And the king, he went as to hawking, with his falconer by his\n side-- 695\n Now Arthur had well bethought him, and Beau-corps he bade to\n ride,\n And half-way to meet the monarch as escort both fit and\n fair--\n And over the stretch of the meadow, or a pool or a brook lay\n there,\n Where'er one might find the water rode the king as on pastime\n bent,\n Yet ever Love drew him onward, and on Love was his heart\n intent. 700\n And Beau-corps, he rode towards him, and in such wise the\n king would greet\n That I ween 'twas a joyful moment when the twain and their\n folk did meet.\n\n And more than fifty pages with Beau-corps should ride that\n day,\n And their faces were fair to look on, Dukes and Counts might\n they be alway,\n And kings' sons, too, rode among them--And the greeting was\n good to see, 705\n When from either side the children kissed each other, of true\n heart free.\n\n And Beau-corps was fair to look on, and the king asked, who\n might he be?\n And Ben\u00e9, she straightway answered. 'The son of King Lot is\n he,\n And _Beau-corps_ the name men call him'--Then he thought, 'Of\n a sooth, my heart,\n Thou hast found her! For she shall be like him who so\n knightly doth play his part, 710\n For in truth shall she be his sister, she who sent me the\n headgear rare\n That of erst was in Sinzester fashioned, and the hawk on mine\n hand I bear.\n If she further will show me kindness then all earthly power\n and pride\n Would I count as naught, might I win her, tho' the earth were\n twice as wide.\n And surely she meaneth truly--For love of her came I here, 715\n Hitherto hath she dealt so kindly that methinks I but little\n fear;\n She will show unto me such favour that my courage shall wax\n full high!'\n Then he clasped the hand of her brother that fair in his hand\n did lie.\n\n In the meanwhile within his army King Arthur in such wise\n wrought\n That the Duchess was fain to grant him the peace that his\n lips had sought. 720\n For rich was her consolation for her love by King Gramoflanz\n slain,\n For whose sake she had borne him hatred; and no more might\n her lips complain,\n For her anger had sunk to slumber, and she wakened to life\n anew\n 'Neath Gawain's embrace so tender, and her wrath, it was\n smitten thro'.\n\n Then Arthur, the king of the Bretons, took many a lady\n bright, 725\n One hundred, both wife and maiden, who were lovely in all\n men's sight,\n In a tent apart he set them--Nor might her lot fairer be,\n Itonj\u00e9, who sat beside them, since her king there she thought\n to see.\n And ever her heart was joyful, and yet in her soft eyes' glow\n Ye might see that the gentle maiden thro' love must sore\n sorrow know. 730\n And many a knight and hero sat there, yet among them all\n No face was so fair to look on as the fair face of Parzival.\n To the tent-door up rode the monarch, and Gramoflanz, he ware\n For garment a robe of wonder, in Gampfass\u00e2sch wroughten fair.\n 'Twas a rick silk, all gold embroidered, and woven with\n golden thread, 735\n And a shimmer of light from his vesture afar round the\n monarch spread.\n\n Then they who had hither ridden adown from their steeds they\n spring,\n And the squires, they press them forward to the tent before\n their king,\n And the chamberlains vie with each other, and they make thro'\n the court a way\n To the throne where the queen of the Bretons in her glory sat\n that day. 740\n Brandelidelein, his uncle, before the monarch went,\n And the twain, Guinevere she kissed them, and bade welcome\n within her tent.\n And Count Bernard, and Affinamus a kiss from her lips must\n take--\n Then to Gramoflanz Arthur turned him, and thus to the king he\n spake,\n 'Ere thou takest thy seat, bethink thee; if thou dost a\n maiden love, 745\n And thou seest her here, thou mayst kiss her, nor will I such\n kiss reprove!'\n\n It had told him which was his lady, the letter he read but\n now\n In the open field, and that letter, 'twas her brother's face\n I trow!\n The brother of her who from all men had hidden her love so\n true--\n And Gramoflanz' eyes beheld her, and straightway his love he\n knew, 750\n And his heart swelled high within him--Since Arthur had\n willed their bliss,\n And had bid him in men's sight greet her, on her sweet lips\n the maid he kissed.\n\n Brandelidelein, he sat him by the queen, fair Guinevere,\n And King Gramoflanz, he was seated by the maid, who with many\n a tear\n Had dimmed the glow of her beauty; 'twas for his sake she\n wept so sore, 755\n Nor might he take vengeance on her, since guiltless this woe\n she bore.\n But softly he spake unto her, and he vowed to her service\n true,\n And she thanked him for this his coming, and their hearts\n toward each other flew,\n And further no word they spake there, but they gazed in each\n other's eyes,\n And their yea and their nay would I tell here, were I but in\n Love's language wise. 760\n To Brandelidelein quoth Arthur, 'Methinks thou enow hast told\n Thy tale in the ears of my lady!' Then he led forth the hero\n bold,\n To a little tent he led him, apart on the grassy field;\n Yet Gramoflanz came not with them, but, e'en as King Arthur\n willed,\n He abode in the tent with his comrades, and so fair were the\n ladies bright, 765\n That I deem well to look upon them but little would vex a\n knight\n And fair was their joy and their pastime, 'twould please many\n a man, I trow,\n Who to-day, after peril ended, would joy for his sorrow know.\n\n Then wine to the queen and her ladies and to many a knight\n they bare,\n And, methinks, an enow they tasted, their faces waxed fresh\n and fair. 770\n To Brandelidelein and King Arthur the cup-bearers wine must\n bring;\n As they passed from the tent in this wise quoth Arthur, the\n goodly king:\n\n 'Sir King, say, the conflict ended, if the strife in such\n wise have run\n That the king, the son of thy sister, shall have slain my\n sister's son,\n Yet would woo my niece, the maiden who maketh to him her moan 775\n But now, as they sit together and their love for each other\n own;\n If she do as shall best beseem her, she will favour him never\n more,\n But will give him for payment hatred as shall vex the king\n full sore\n If her love he yet desireth--for where love is o'ercome by\n hate\n Then joy from true hearts is banished, and desire doth with\n sorrow mate!' 780\n\n Then out spake the King of Punturtois to Arthur of Brittany,\n 'Sir King, they are sons to our sisters betwixt whom this\n hate shall be.\n 'Tis our part this strife to hinder, nor other shall be its\n end\n Save that they twain shall love each other, and from foe\n shall be turned to friend.\n 'Twere best that thy niece, Itonj\u00e9, ere she yield to my\n nephew's prayer, 785\n Shall say, if in truth he love her he shall from this strife\n forbear.\n Thus an end shall be put to the combat, and the quarrel shall\n turn to peace--\n And thou, thou shalt pray the Duchess that her wrath 'gainst\n my nephew cease!'\n\n 'Yea, that have I done,' quoth Arthur, 'my sister's son,\n Gawain,\n He holdeth such power o'er the lady, that, as courtesy doth\n constrain, 790\n For his sake and mine she forgiveth the ill that the king\n hath done--\n Now do thou thy part with thy nephew, that peace on his side\n be won.'\n Brandelidelein quoth straightway, 'I will do e'en as thou\n dost say'--\n And back to the tent and the feasting the monarchs they took\n their way.\n\n Then sat the King of Punturtois on one side of the gracious\n queen, 795\n And Parzival sat on the other, and so fair was his face, I\n ween,\n That never a man so goodly their eyes had beheld afore--\n Then Arthur, the king, he rose up, and he gat him from out\n the door,\n And he sought Gawain, his nephew; then he, who a while must\n hear\n How his foemen had ridden hither, learnt that Arthur now drew\n anear, 800\n And before his tent dismounted--Then swift did Sir Gawain\n spring,\n And forth from the tent on the meadow he hastened to meet the\n king.\n\n Then counsel they took together, and the Duchess, she peace\n would swear,\n But not otherwise save that Gawain for her sake should this\n strife forbear.\n Then should Gramoflanz be forgiven, if _he_, too, would\n forgive the ill 805\n Once done by King Lot, her kinsman--so Arthur should speak\n her will.\n\n Then Arthur the wise and courteous, he brought the tale\n again,\n And King Gramoflanz, for his garland, henceforward must mourn\n in vain.\n And his hatred to Lot of Norway it passed as the snow flakes\n melt\n In the sun, 'neath the glance of Itonj\u00e9, and anger no more he\n felt. 810\n And the while he sat beside her he said to her bidding,\n yea,--\n Then they spake, Gawain came hither with his knights in brave\n array,\n And their names I may not tell ye, nor the land in which each\n was born;\n But here love had banished sorrow, and sadness was overworn.\n\n Then the Duchess, Orgelus\u00e9, and her gallant men and true, 815\n With part of the host of Klingsor, with Gawain nearer drew;\n And the covering 'gainst wind and weather from the king's\n tent they took away,\n And thither came good Arniv\u00e9 with Sangiv\u00e9 and Kondrie alway,\n They came at King Arthur's bidding where men words of peace\n would speak,\n (He who counteth this but a small thing, at his will may a\n greater seek.) 820\n Then Iofreit, Gawain's comrade, by her white hand, within the\n tent\n Led the Duchess, fair and stately, and on this was she\n courteous bent,\n That the three queens should go before her--Brandelidelein\n they kissed,\n Then she followed, proud Orgelus\u00e9, nor the monarch her\n greeting missed.\n Then Gramoflanz stepped towards her, atonement he fain would\n make, 825\n From her sweet lips the kiss of forgiveness as token of peace\n he'ld take;\n And the lady was moved to weeping, for she thought of her\n true love slain,\n And the faith and the sorrow of women did her heart to such\n woe constrain.\n\n Then Gramoflanz and Sir Gawain with a kiss put an end to\n strife;\n And Arthur gave maid Itonj\u00e9 to King Gramoflanz to wife, 830\n For truly and long had he served her; and Ben\u00e9 was glad that\n day--\n And another for love's sake sorrowed, and his sorrow was put\n away,\n For Lischois, the Duke of Gowerzein, won fair Kondrie for his\n own,\n And, I ween, were her love not his portion his life little\n joy had known.\n To the Turkowit, brave Florant, as his wife King Arthur gave 835\n Her who wedded King Lot aforetime, and her love a man well\n might crave;\n 'Twas a gift such as love beseemeth, and the knight took it\n joyfully--\n For the king, he was aye free-handed, and he gave such gifts\n readily!\n\n To this end had he well bethought him, and counsel wise had\n ta'en,\n And soon as his speech was ended, the Duchess, she spake\n again, 840\n And she said that her love Sir Gawain had conquered with\n valiant hand,\n And henceforth he of right was master alike of her life and\n land.\n And many a knight who hearkened he thought her speech ill to\n hear,\n For they fought for her love, and had broken in her service\n full many a spear.\n\n Gawain, and they who rode with him, Arniv\u00e9, and the Duchess\n fair, 845\n And many a lovely lady prayed leave of the monarch there.\n And Parzival, he went with them--Sangiv\u00e9 and maid Kondrie\n They rode hence, but with King Arthur she abode still, fair\n Itonj\u00e9.\n And the wedding feast that was holden was a feast beyond\n compare;\n And Guinevere took Itonj\u00e9, and her true love, within her\n care, 850\n The gallant king who with knighthood full many a prize had\n won,\n And for love and desire of Itonj\u00e9 full many brave deeds had\n done.\n And many they sought their lodging who for love's sake must\n sorrow sore;\n And how that night they had feasted, of that will we think no\n more--\n But they who for love did service, who knew of true love the\n might, 855\n They would that the day was ended, for fairer they deemed the\n night.\n\n Then King Gramoflanz sent this message (he bethought him in\n his pride)\n To his men, who, before Rosche-Sabbins, lay camped by the\n water-side.\n They should spare nor pains nor labour, but their tents\n should they strike straightway,\n And hither, with all his army, should they hasten ere break\n of day. 860\n And his marshal here must seek him a fitting place and fair--\n 'Each prince by himself be encamped, and ye shall for myself\n prepare\n Such goodly state and royal as well shall beseem a king,\n Nor spare ye the cost'--'Twas nightfall ere this word to the\n host they bring.\n\n And many a man must sorrow who had learnt from a woman woe,-- 865\n Whose love to the winds is scattered, and who ne'er doth\n rewarding know\n For his service, to grief he speedeth, and naught shall his\n steps delay,\n Save only the help of a woman o'ertaketh him on his way.\n\n But Parzival, he bethought him of his wife so fair and sweet,\n How pure she was, and how gentle--Did he ne'er another greet, 870\n And offer for fair love service, and, wavering, love anew?\n Nay, nay, he was far from such dealings, and naught of such\n love he knew!\n For a mighty faith so guarded his body alike and heart\n That never a woman living might have in his love a part,\n Save only his queen and lady, Kondwiramur, the flower 875\n Of women, Love's fairest blossom, with none should she share\n her power.\n\n And he thought, 'Since to Love I wakened but ill hath Love\n dealt with me,\n Of Love was I born, how comes it that I must from her\n presence flee?\n Tho' my hand for the Grail be seeking yet desire it doth rend\n my heart,\n And I yearn for her sweet embraces; ah, too long have we\n dwelt apart! 880\n Shall I look with mine eyes on rejoicing while my heart seeth\n naught but woe?\n The twain fit but ill together, and no man thereby shall know\n High courage, a knight befitting--Now Good Fortune direct my\n way,\n And show me what best beseemeth!' His harness before him lay,\n And he thought, 'Since to me that lacketh with which others\n are richly blest,-- 885\n The love in whose sweet fulfilment many sad hearts have found\n their rest--\n Since this sorrow must be my portion I care not what else my\n lot,\n Little reck I what shall befall me, since my joy Heaven\n willeth not!\n And thou, for whose love I am yearning, were it so both with\n me and thee,\n That our hearts ever dreamed of parting, nor our love from\n all doubt were free, 890\n It might well be that with another joy and blessing again\n were mine,\n But thy love it so fast doth hold me, I may rest on no heart\n but thine!\n And for aye am I Sorrow's captive! Now Good Fortune bring joy\n to all\n Who find peace in fair Love's fulfilment, they are bless\u00e8d\n whate'er befall--\n May God give to this folk rejoicing! But I from their joy\n must flee, 895\n And wend lonely as of aforetime, since gladness is not for\n me!'\n\n Then he stretched out his hand to his harness, and as oft was\n his wont of yore,\n Unaided he girt it on him, and soon was he armed once more.\n Now sorrow anew he seeketh--When he, who from joy would fly,\n Had armed himself, his charger he saddled right speedily, 900\n And his shield and spear were ready--O'er his loss did they\n wail next morn,\n For no eye looked on his departing, he rode thence ere the\n day was born.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XV\n\nFEIREFIS\n\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook XV. tells how Parzival met with a mighty heathen, with whom\n he\nfought fiercely, and how he was well-nigh vanquished. How he\n found the\nheathen to be his brother, Feirefis Angevin, and how the twain\n rode\ntogether to the court of King Arthur.\n\nOf the welcome given to Feirefis by King Arthur and his knights;\n of his\nriches; and of the kings conquered by the two brothers.\n\nHow a feast of the Round Table was holden, and how Kondrie bare\n tidings\nof Parzival's election to the Grail Kingdom, and summoned him,\n his\nwife, and his son Lohengrin, to Monsalv\u00e4sch; and how Parzival and\nFeirefis rode thither with Kondrie as their guide.\n\n BOOK XV\n\n FEIREFIS\n\n Now many were sorely angered that I told not this tale afore\n Since it wearied them naught in the hearing--Now my words I\n withhold no more,\n But I give ye to wit full truly, as my mouth may the story\n tell,\n The end of this wondrous venture for methinks it shall please\n ye well.\n Ye shall know how the king, Anfortas, of his wound was made\n whole again-- 5\n Of the queen doth the venture tell us, who in far Pelrap\u00e4r\n did reign;\n How she kept a pure heart and loyal till the day of her great\n reward,\n And earth's fairest crown was her guerdon at the hand of her\n faithful lord.\n Ye shall hear the tale of its winning, if my skill fail me\n not alway;\n Yet first must ye list the labour that Parzival wrought that\n day. 10\n\n Now, tho' dauntless his hand had striven, but as children his\n foemen all,\n And ne'er would I risk my hero might I rule that which shall\n befall.\n I must sorrow sore for his peril, and fain would I speak him\n free,\n But now must I trust that Good Fortune the shield of his\n heart may be.\n For purity, and high courage, side by side in his heart they\n lay, 15\n And ne'er had he cherished cowardice, nor shrunk from the\n knightly fray;\n And I deem this shall surely give him such strength he his\n life may hold,\n Since fierce strife draweth nigh unto him, and his foe is a\n hero bold.\n For he meeteth a prince of battles who dauntless to strife\n doth ride,\n And unbaptized was the foeman who rode here in his heathen\n pride. 20\n\n Full soon had he come, our hero, to a mighty woodland shade,\n And without, in the light of the dawning, his armour a knight\n displayed.\n 'Twere a marvel could I, a poor man, of the riches now speak\n to ye\n That the heathen he bare as his decking, so costly their\n worth should be.\n If more than enough I told ye, yet more would be left to\n tell; 25\n Yet I would not his wealth were hidden--What of riches, I\n ween, shall dwell\n In Bretagne alike and England, and be tribute to Arthur's\n might,\n They had paid not the stones that, shining, glowed fair on\n his armour bright.\n His blazoned coat was costly, and naught but the truth I say,\n Ruby and Chalcedony, ye had held them not fair that day. 30\n And bright as the sun was his vesture, on the mount of\n Agremontein,\n In the glowing fires, Salamanders had welded that garment's\n shine.\n There jewels rare and precious, with never a fault or flaw,\n Glowed dark and light; of their nature, I ween, I can tell no\n more!\n\n His desire was for love's rewarding, and the winning of high\n renown, 35\n He had won from the hands of fair women the jewels that his\n pride did crown.\n For the favour Frau Minne showed him with joy did his proud\n heart beat,\n And it swelled high with manly courage, as is for a lover\n meet.\n As reward for his deeds of knighthood on his helmet a beast\n he bare,\n Ecidemon, all poisonous serpents they must of its power\n beware, 40\n For of life and of strength doth it rob them, if they smell\n it but from afar--\n Thopedissimont\u00e9, Assigarziont\u00e9, Thasm\u00e9, and Arabia,\n They scarce of such silk might boast them as was covering for\n his steed--\n He sought, that mighty heathen, in a woman's love his meed,\n And therefore he bravely decked him, and fain would his\n courage prove, 45\n And his manhood, it urged him onward to battle for sake of\n love.\n\n Now the knight, so young and gallant, in a haven beside the\n wood,\n But little known, on the water had anchored his ships so\n good.\n And his armies were five-and-twenty, and they knew not each\n other's speech--\n 'Twas a token fair of his riches, and the lands that his\n power might reach, 50\n As the armies, so were the kingdoms that did service unto his\n hand--\n And Moors and Saracens were they, and unlike was each warlike\n band,\n And the hue of their skins was diverse--Thus gathered from\n lands afar\n Ye might see in his mighty army strange weapons of heathen\n war.\n\n So thus, in search of adventure, from his army this man would\n ride, 55\n In the woodland green he wandered, and waited what should\n betide.\n And since thus it well doth please them, so let them ride,\n these kings,\n Alone, in search of ventures, and the fair fame that combat\n brings.\n Yet Parzival rode not lonely, methinks he had comrades twain,\n Himself, and the lofty courage that lord o'er his soul did\n reign. 60\n And that he so bravely fought here might win from a woman\n praise,\n If falsehood should not mislead her, that injustice should\n rule her ways.\n\n So spurred they against each other, who were lambs in their\n purity,\n Yet as lions were they bold and dauntless, 'twas a sight for\n a man to see!\n Ah! woe is me for their meeting, for the world and its ways\n are wide, 65\n And they well might have spared each other, nor, guiltless,\n to battle ride.\n I should sorrow for him whom I brought here, save my heart\n did this comfort hold,\n That the Grail shall with strength endue him, and Love\n shelter the hero bold,\n Since he was of the twain the servant, nor his heart ever\n wavering knew,\n And ever his hand was ready to serve them with service true. 70\n\n My skill little wit doth give me this combat that here\n befell,\n In fitting words and knightly, from beginning to end to tell.\n But the eye of each flashed triumph as the coming foe he saw,\n And the heart of each knight waxed joyful, as they nearer to\n battle draw.\n Yet sorrow, I ween, was nigh them, true hearts, from all\n falsehood free, 75\n And each bare the heart of the other, and should comrade and\n stranger be!\n\n Nor may I asunder part them, the paynim and Christian knight,\n Hatred they show to each other, tho' no cause have they here\n for fight.\n And methinks this of joy shall rob them, who, as true women,\n share their pain\n Who risk their lives for a woman! May they part, ere one here\n be slain! 80\n\n As the lion-cub, that its mother beareth dead, doth to life\n awake\n At the aweful voice of its father, so these twain, as the\n spear-shafts break\n Arouse to fresh life, and to honour, I ween, are they newly\n born,\n For many a joust have they ridden and many a spear outworn.\n Then they tighten the hanging bridle, and they take to their\n aim good care, 85\n That each on the shield of the other, as he willeth, shall\n smite him fair.\n And no point do they leave unguarded, and they give to their\n seat good heed,\n As men who are skilled in jousting, and sharply each spurs\n his steed.\n\n And bravely the joust was ridden, and each gorget asunder\n broke,\n And the spears bent not, but in splinters they flew from each\n mighty stroke; 90\n And sore was he wroth, the heathen, that this man might his\n joust abide,\n For never a knight but had fallen who a course 'gainst his\n spear would ride.\n Think ye that their swords they wielded as their chargers\n together drew?\n Yea, the combat was sharp and bitter, and each must give\n proof anew\n Alike of his skill and his manhood--The strange beast,\n Ecidemon, 95\n Had many a wound, and beneath it the helmet sore blows had\n won;\n And the horses were hot and wearied, and many new turns they\n tried--\n Then down they sprung from their chargers, and their\n sword-blades afresh they plied.\n\n And the heathen wrought woe to the Christian, 'Thasm\u00e9!' was\n his battle-cry,\n And when 'Tabronit!' he shouted he drew ever a step anigh. 100\n And the Christian, he showed his valour in many an onslaught\n bold;\n So pressed they upon each other--Nor would I the tale\n withhold\n Of how the fight was foughten, yet must I the strife bemoan,\n How, one flesh and one blood thus sharing, each wrought evil\n unto his own;\n For both were the sons of one father, and brothers, I ween,\n were they, 105\n And methinks upon such foundation faith and friendship their\n stone should lay!\n\n And love ne'er had failed the heathen, and his heart was for\n combat fain,\n For the love of Queen Sekundill\u00e9 fresh honour he thought to\n gain;\n Tribalibot's land she gave him, and she was his shield in\n strife--\n So bravely he fought, how think ye that the Christian might\n guard his life? 110\n On love let his thoughts be steadfast, else sure is he here\n undone,\n And he hath from the hand of the heathen in this combat his\n death-blow won.\n O thou Grail, by thy lofty virtue such fate from thy knight\n withhold!\n Kondwiramur, thine husband in such deadly stress behold!\n Here he standeth, of both the servant, in such danger and\n peril sore 115\n That as naught ye may count the ventures he hath dared for\n your sake of yore!\n Then on high flashed the sword of the heathen, and many such\n blow had slain,\n To his knee Parzival was beaten--Now see how they fought, the\n twain,\n If twain ye will still account them, yet in sooth shall they\n be but one,\n For my brother and I are one body, e'en as husband and wife\n are one! 120\n\n The heathen wrought woe to the Christian--Of Asbestos, I\n ween, his shield,\n That wondrous wood that never to flame or decay shall yield;\n I' sooth, right well she loved him who gave him a gift so\n fair,\n Turquoise, Chrysoprase, Emerald, Ruby, rich jewels beyond\n compare\n Decked with shining lines its surface, on the boss shone a\n precious stone, 125\n Antrax, afar they call it, as Carbuncle it here is known.\n And as token of love, for his guarding, Sekundill\u00e9 the queen\n would give\n That wondrous beast, Ecidemon--in her favour he fain would\n live,\n And e'en as she willed he bare it, as his badge, did that\n gallant knight--\n Here with purity faith joined issue, and truth with high\n truth would fight. 130\n\n For love's sake upon the issue of this combat each risked his\n life,\n Each had pledged his hand to the winning of honour and fame\n in strife;\n And the Christian, in God he trusted since the day that he\n rode away\n From the hermit, whose faithful counsel had bidden him trust\n alway\n In Him who could turn his sorrow into bliss without thought\n of bale-- 135\n To Him should he pray for succour, whose succour should never\n fail.\n\n And fierce and strong was the heathen, when 'Tabronit,' he\n cried,\n For there, 'neath the mount Kaukasus did the queen,\n Sekundill\u00e9', abide;\n Thus gained he afresh high courage 'gainst him who ne'er knew\n of yore\n The weight of such deadly combat, for in sooth was he pressed\n full sore-- 140\n To defeat was he aye a stranger, and ne'er had he seen its\n face,\n Tho' his foemen right well must know it, as they yielded them\n to his grace!\n\n With skill do they wield their weapons, and sparks spring\n from the helmets fair,\n And a whistling wind ariseth as the blades cleave the summer\n air;\n God have Gamuret's son in His keeping! and the prayer it\n shall stand for both, 145\n For the twain shall be one nor, I think me, to own it were\n either loth.\n For had they but known each other their stake ne'er had been\n so great,\n For blessing, and joy, and honour, were risked on that\n combat's fate,\n For he who shall here be victor, if true brother and knight\n he be,\n Of all this world's joy is he forfeit, nor from grief may his\n heart be free! 150\n\n Sir Parzival, why delay thee to think on thy queen and wife,\n Her purity and her beauty, if here thou wouldst save thy\n life?\n For the heathen, he bare two comrades who kindled his\n strength anew,\n The one, in his strong heart, steadfast, lay ever a love so\n true;\n And the other, the precious jewels that burnt with a mystic\n glow, 155\n Thro' whose virtue his strength waxed greater, and his heart\n must fresh courage know.\n And it grieveth me sore that the Christian was weary and\n faint with fight,\n Nor swiftly might he avoid him, and his blows they were\n robbed of might;\n And if the twain fail to aid thee, O thou gallant Parzival,\n Thy queen and the Grail, then I think me this thought it\n shall help thee well, 160\n Shall thy fair babes thus young be orphaned? Kardeiss and\n Lohengrin,\n Whom thy wife, e'en as thou didst leave her, for her joy and\n her hope must win--\n For children thus born in wedlock, the pledge of a love so\n pure,\n I ween are a man's best blessing, and a joy that shall aye\n endure!\n\n New strength did he win, the Christian, and he thought, none\n too soon, I ween, 165\n On his love so true and faithful, on Kondwiramur, his queen,\n How he won his wife at the sword's point, when sparks from\n the helm did spring\n 'Neath the mighty blows he dealt him, Klamid\u00e9, the warrior\n king.\n 'Tabronit! and Thasm\u00e9!' and above them rung clear his\n battle-cry,\n 'Pelrap\u00e4r!' as aloud he cried it to his aid did his true love\n fly, 170\n O'er kingdoms four she sought him, and her love gave him\n strength anew,\n And lo! from the shield of the heathen the costly splinters\n flew,\n Each one a hundred marks' worth--and the sword so strong and\n keen\n That Ither of Gaheviess bare first brake sheer on the\n helmet's sheen,\n And the stranger, so rich and valiant, he stumbled, and\n sought his knee-- 175\n For God, He no longer willed it that Parzival lord should be\n Of this weapon of which in his folly he had robbed a gallant\n knight--\n Then up sprang afresh the heathen who ne'er before fell in\n fight,\n Not yet is the combat ended, and the issue for both shall\n stand\n In the power of the God of battles, and their life lieth in\n His hand! 180\n\n And a gallant knight was the heathen, and he spake out, right\n courteously,\n (Tho' the tongue was the tongue of a heathen yet in fair\n French his speech should be,)\n 'Now I see well, thou gallant hero, thou hast no sword\n wherewith to fight,\n And the fame shall be small I win me if I fight with an\n unarmed knight,\n But rest thee awhile from conflict, and tell me who thou\n shalt be, 185\n For the fame that so long I cherished it surely had fallen to\n thee\n Had the blow not thy sword-blade shattered--Now, let peace be\n betwixt us twain,\n And our wearied limbs will we rest here ere we get us to\n strife again.'\n Then down on the grass they sat them, and courteous and brave\n were they,\n Nor too young nor too old for battle--fit foemen they were\n that day! 190\n\n Then the heathen, he spake to the Christian, 'Believe me, Sir\n Knight, that ne'er\n Did I meet with a man so worthy the crown of such fame to\n bear\n As a knight in strife may win him--Now, I prithee, tell thou\n to me\n Thy name, and thy race, that my journey may here not\n unfruitful be!\n Quoth the son of fair Herzeleide, 'Thro' _fear_ shall I tell\n my name? 195\n For thou askest of me such favour as a victor alone may\n claim!'\n Spake the heathen prince from Thasm\u00e9, 'Then that shame shall\n be mine, I ween,\n For first will I speak my title, and the name that mine own\n hath been;\n \"Feirefis Angevin\" all men call me, and such riches are mine,\n I trow,\n That the folk of full many a kingdom 'neath my sceptre as\n vassals bow!' 200\n\n Then, e'en as the words were spoken, to the heathen quoth\n Parzival,\n 'How shall \"_Angevin_\" be thy title, since as heirdom to _me_\n it fell,\n Anjou, with its folk and its castles, its lands and its\n cities fair?\n Nay, choose thee some other title, if thou, courteous,\n wouldst hear my prayer!\n If thro' thee I have lost my kingdom, and the fair town\n B\u00e9alzenan, 205\n Then wrong hadst thou wrought upon me ere ever our strife\n began!\n If one of us twain is an Angevin then by birthright that one\n am I!--\n And yet, of a truth, was it told me, that afar 'neath an\n Eastern sky,\n There dwelleth a dauntless hero, who, with courage and\n knightly skill,\n Such love and such fame hath won him that he ruleth them at\n his will. 210\n And men say, he shall be my brother--and that all they who\n know his name\n Account him a knight most valiant, and he weareth the crown\n of fame!'\n\n In a little space he spake further, 'If, Sir Knight, I thy\n face might see,\n I should know if the truth were told me, if in sooth thou art\n kin to me.\n Sir Knight, wilt thou trust mine honour, then loosen thine\n helmet's band, 215\n I will swear till once more thou arm thee to stay from all\n strife mine hand!\n\n Then out he spake, the heathen, 'Of such strife have I little\n fear,\n For e'en were my body naked, my sword, I still hold it here!\n Of a sooth must thou be the vanquished, for since broken\n shall be thy sword\n What availeth thy skill in combat keen death from thine heart\n to ward, 220\n Unless, of free will, I spare thee? For, ere thou couldst\n clasp me round,\n My steel, thro' the iron of thy harness, thy flesh and thy\n bone had found!'\n Then the heathen, so strong and gallant, he dealt as a knight\n so true,\n 'Nor mine nor thine shall this sword be!' and straight from\n his hand it flew,\n Afar in the wood he cast it, and he quoth, 'Now, methinks,\n Sir Knight, 225\n The chance for us both shall be equal, if further we think to\n fight!'\n\n Quoth Feirefis, 'Now, thou hero, by thy courteous breeding\n fair,\n Since in sooth thou shalt have a brother, say, what face doth\n that brother bear?\n And tell me here of his colour, e'en as men shall have told\n it thee.'\n Quoth the Waleis, 'As written parchment, both black and white\n is he, 230\n For so hath Ekuba told me.' 'Then that brother am I alway,'\n Quoth the heathen--Those knights so gallant, but little they\n made delay,\n But they loosed from their heads the helmet, and they made\n them of iron bare,\n And Parzival deemed that he found there a gift o'er all\n others fair,\n For straightway he knew the other, (as a magpie, I ween, his\n face,) 235\n And hatred and wrath were slain here in a brotherly embrace.\n Yea, friendship far better 'seemed them, who owed to one sire\n their life,\n Than anger, methinks, and envy--Truth and Love made an end of\n strife.\n\n Then joyful he spake, the heathen, 'Now well shall it be with\n me,\n And I thank the gods of my people that Gamuret's son I see. 240\n Blest be Juno, the queen of heaven, since, methinks, she hath\n ruled it so,\n And Jupiter, by whose virtue and strength I such bliss may\n know,\n Gods and goddesses, I will love ye, and worship your strength\n for aye--\n And blest be those shining planets, 'neath the power of whose\n guiding ray\n I hither have made my journey--For ventures I here would\n seek, 245\n And found _thee_, brother, sweet and aweful, whose strong\n hand hath made me weak.\n And blest be the dew, and the breezes, that this morning my\n brow have fanned.\n Ah! thou courteous knight who holdest love's key in thy\n valiant hand!\n Ah! happy shall be the woman whose eyes on thy face shall\n light,\n Already is bliss her portion who seeth so fair a sight!' 250\n\n 'Ye speak well, I would fain speak better of a full heart,\n had I the skill;\n Yet alas! for I lack the wisdom, tho' God knoweth, of right\n goodwill\n The fame of your worth and valour by my words would I higher\n raise,\n And as eye, and as heart should serve me, the twain, they\n should speak your praise;\n As your fame and your glory lead them, so behind in your\n track they fare-- 255\n And ne'er from the hand of a foeman such peril hath been my\n share\n As the peril your hand hath wrought me! and sooth are these\n words I say.'\n In this wise quoth the knight of Kanvoleis; yet Feirefis\n spake alway;\n\n 'With wisdom and skill, I wot well, hath Jupiter fashioned\n thee,\n Thou true and gallant hero! Nor thy speech shall thus distant\n be, 260\n For \"_ye_\" thou shalt no more call me, of one sire did we\n spring we twain.'\n And with brotherly love he prayed him he would from such\n speech refrain\n And henceforward '_thou_' to call him, yet Parzival deemed it\n ill,\n And he spake, 'Now, your riches, brother, shall be e'en as\n the Baruch's still,\n And ye of us twain are the elder, my poverty and my youth 265\n They forbid me \"_thou_\" to call ye, or discourteous were I in\n truth.\n\n Then the Prince of Tribalibot, joyful, with many a word would\n praise\n His god, Jupiter, and to Juno thanksgiving he fain would\n raise,\n Since so well had she ruled the weather, that the port to\n which he was bound\n He had safely reached, and had landed, and there had a\n brother found. 270\n\n Side by side did they sit together, and neither forgot the\n grace\n Of courtesy, to the other, each knight fain had yielded\n place.\n Then the heathen spake, 'My brother, wilt thou sail with me\n to my land,\n Then two kingdoms, rich and powerful, will I give thee into\n thine hand.\n Thy father and mine, he won them when King Eisenhart's life\n was run, 275\n Zassamank and Assagog are they--to no man he wrong hath done,\n Save in that he left me orphaned--of the ill that he did that\n day\n As yet have I not avenged me, for an ill deed it was alway.\n For his wife, the queen who bare me, thro' her love must she\n early die,\n When she knew herself love-bereav\u00e8d, and her lord from her\n land did fly. 280\n Yet gladly that knight would I look on, for his fame hath\n been told to me\n As the best of knights, and I journey my father's face to\n see!'\n\n Then Parzival made him answer, 'Yea I, too, I saw him ne'er;\n Yet all men they speak well of him, and his praises all lands\n declare,\n And ever in strife and conflict to better his fame he knew, 285\n And his valour was high exalted, and afar from him falsehood\n flew.\n And women he served so truly that all true folk they praised\n his name,\n And all that should deck a Christian lent honour unto his\n fame,\n For his faith it for aye stood steadfast, and all false deeds\n did he abhor,\n But followed his true heart's counsel--Thus ever I heard of\n yore 290\n From the mouth of all men who knew him, that man ye were fain\n to see,\n And I ween ye would do him honour if he yet on this earth\n might be,\n And sought for fame as aforetime--The delight of all women's\n eyes\n Was he, till king Ipomidon with him strove for knighthood's\n prize,\n At Bagdad the joust was ridden, and there did his valiant\n life 295\n For love's sake become death's portion, and there was he\n slain in strife;\n In a knightly joust we lost him from whose life do we spring,\n we twain;\n If here ye would seek our father, then the seas have ye\n sailed in vain!'\n\n 'Alas, for the endless sorrow!' quoth the knight. 'Is my\n father dead?\n Here joy have I lost, tho' it well be that joy cometh in its\n stead. 300\n In this self-same hour have I lost me great joy, and yet joy\n have found,\n For myself, and thou, and my father, we three in one bond are\n bound;\n For tho' men as _three_ may hold us, yet I wot well we are\n but _one_,\n And no wise man he counts that kinship 'twixt father,\n methinks, and son,\n For in truth for more must he hold it--With _thyself_ hast\n thou fought to-day, 305\n To strife with _myself_ have I ridden, and I went near myself\n to slay;\n Thy valour in good stead stood us, from myself hast thou\n saved my life--\n Now Jupiter see this marvel, since thy power so hath ruled\n the strife\n That from death hast thou here withheld us!' Then tears\n streamed from his heathen eyes,\n As he laughed and wept together--Yea, a Christian such truth\n might prize, 310\n For our baptism truth should teach us, since there are we\n named anew\n In the Name of Christ, and all men they hold the Lord Christ\n for true!\n\n Quoth the heathen, e'en as I tell ye, 'No longer will we\n abide\n In this place, but if thou, my brother, for a short space\n with me wilt ride,\n From the sea to the land will I summon, that their power be\n made known to thee, 315\n The richest force that Juno e'er guided across the sea.\n And in truth, without thought of falsehood, full many a\n gallant knight\n Will I show thee, who do me service, and beneath my banners\n fight,\n With me shalt thou ride towards them.' Then Parzival spake\n alway,\n 'Have ye then such power o'er these people that your bidding\n they wait to-day 320\n And all the days ye are absent?' Quoth the heathen, 'Yea,\n even so,\n If for half a year long I should leave them, not a man from\n the place would go,\n Be he rich or poor, till I bade him. Well victualled their\n ships shall be,\n And neither the horse nor his rider setteth foot on the\n grassy lea,\n Save only to fetch them water from the fountain that\n springeth fair, 325\n Or to lead their steeds to the meadow to breathe the fresh\n summer air.'\n\n Then Parzival quoth to his brother, 'If it be so, then follow\n me\n To where many a gracious maiden, and fair pleasures, ye well\n may see,\n And many a courteous hero who shall be to us both akin--\n Near by with a goodly army lieth Arthur, the Breton king, 330\n 'Twas only at dawn I left them, a great host and fair are\n they,\n And many a lovely lady shall gladden our eyes to-day.'\n When he heard that he spake of women, since he fain for their\n love would live,\n He quoth, 'Thou shalt lead me thither, but first thou shalt\n answer give\n To the question I here would ask thee--Of a truth shall we\n kinsmen see 335\n When we come to the court of King Arthur? For ever 'twas told\n to me\n That his name it is rich in honour, and he liveth as valiant\n knight'--\n Quoth Parzival, 'We shall see there full many a lady bright,\n Nor fruitless shall be our journey, our own folk shall we\n find there,\n The men of whose race we have sprung, men whose head shall a\n king's crown bear.' 340\n\n Nor longer the twain would sit there, and straightway did\n Parzival\n Seek again the sword of his brother that afar in the woodland\n fell,\n And again the hero sheathed it, and all hatred they put away,\n And e'en as true friends and brothers together they rode that\n day.\n\n Yet ere they might come to King Arthur men had heard of the\n twain a tale-- 345\n On the self-same day it befell so that the host, they must\n sore bewail\n The loss of a gallant hero, since Parzival rode away--\n Then Arthur, he took good counsel, and he spake, 'Unto the\n eighth day\n Would they wait for Parzival's coming, nor forth from the\n field would fare'--\n And hither came Gramoflanz' army, and they many a ring\n prepare, 350\n And with costly tents do they deck them, and the proud\n knights are lodged full well,\n Nor might brides e'er win greater honour than here to this\n four befell.\n Then from Ch\u00e2teau Merveil rode thither a squire in the\n self-same hour,\n And he said, in their column mirrored, had they seen in their\n fair watch-tower\n A mighty fight, and a fearful--'And where'er men with swords\n have fought, 355\n I wot well, beside this combat their strife shall be held as\n naught.'\n And the tale did they tell to Gawain, as he sat by King\n Arthur's side,\n And this knight, and that, spake wondering to whom might such\n strife betide?\n Quoth Arthur the king, 'Now I wager that I know of the twain\n _one_ knight,\n 'Twas my nephew of Kanvoleis fought there, who left us ere\n morning light!' 360\n\n And now, lo the twain rode hither--They had foughten a combat\n fair,\n As helmet and shield sore dinted with sword-stroke might\n witness bear.\n And well skilled were the hands that had painted these badges\n of strife, I trow,\n (For 'tis meet in the lust of combat that a knight's hand\n such skill should show,)\n Then they rode by the camp of King Arthur--As the heathen\n knight rode past 365\n Full many a glance of wonder at his costly gear was cast.\n And with tents the plain was covered--Then rode they to\n Gawain's ring,\n And before his tent they halted--Did men a fair welcome\n bring,\n And lead them within, and gladly behold them? Yea, even so,\n And Gawain, he rode swiftly after when he did of their coming\n know; 370\n For e'en as he sat by King Arthur he saw that his tent they\n sought,\n And, as fitted a courteous hero, joyful greeting to them he\n brought.\n\n And as yet they bare their armour--Then Gawain, the courteous\n knight,\n He bade his squires disarm them--In the stress of the deadly\n fight\n Ecidemon, the beast, was cloven; the robe that the heathen\n ware 375\n In many a place bare token of the blows that had been its\n share,\n 'Twas a silk of Saranthasm\u00e9, decked with many a precious\n stone,\n And beneath, rich, snow-white, blazoned with his bearings his\n vesture shone.\n And one over against the other stood the gems in a double\n row;\n By the wondrous Salamanders was it woven in fierce flame's\n glow! 380\n All this glory a woman gave him, who would stake on his skill\n in strife\n Her crown alike and her kingdom, as she gave him her love and\n life.\n 'Twas the fair Queen Sekundill\u00e9 (and gladly he did her will,\n And were it for joy or for sorrow he hearkened her bidding\n still)\n And, e'en as her true heart willed it, of her riches was he\n the lord, 385\n For her love, as his rightful guerdon, had he won him with\n shield and sword.\n\n Then Gawain, he bade his people of the harness to have good\n care,\n That naught should be moved from its station, shield, or\n helmet, or vesture fair.\n And in sooth a gift too costly e'en the blazoned coat had\n been\n If poor were the maid who a love-gift would give to her\n knight, I ween, 390\n So rich were the stones that decked it, the harness of pieces\n four--\n And where wisdom with goodwill worketh, and of riches there\n be full store,\n There love well can deck the loved one! And proud Feirefis,\n he strove\n With such zeal for the honour of women, he well was repaid by\n Love!\n\n And soon as he doffed his harness they gazed on the wondrous\n sight, 395\n And they who might speak of marvels said, in sooth, that this\n heathen knight,\n Feirefis, was strange to look on! and wondrous marks he\n bore--\n Quoth Gawain to Parzival, 'Cousin, I ne'er saw his like\n before,\n Now who may he be, thy comrade? For in sooth he is strange to\n see!'\n Quoth Parzival, 'Are we kinsmen, then thy kinsman this knight\n shall be, 400\n As Gamuret's name may assure thee--Of Zassamank is he king,\n There my father he won Belakan\u00e9 who this prince to the world\n did bring.'\n Then Gawain, he kissed the heathen--Now the noble Feirefis\n Was black and white all over, save his mouth was half red, I\n wis!\n\n Then they brought to the twain fair raiment, and I wot well\n their cost was dear. 405\n (They were brought forth from Gawain's chamber.) Then the\n ladies, they drew anear,\n And the Duchess she bade Sangiv\u00e9 and Kondrie first kiss the\n knight\n Ere she and Arniv\u00e9 proffered in greeting their lips so\n bright.\n And Feirefis gazed upon them, and, methinks, he was glad at\n heart\n At the sight of their lovely faces, and in joy had he lot and\n part. 410\n\n Then Gawain spake to Parzival, 'Cousin, thou hast found a new\n battle-field,\n If aright I may read the token of thy helmet and splintered\n shield,\n Sore strife shall have been your comrade, both thine and thy\n brother's too!\n Say, with whom did ye fight so fiercely?' Then Parzival spake\n anew,\n 'No fiercer fight have I foughten, my brother's hand pressed\n me sore 415\n To defend me, no charm more potent than defence 'gainst\n death's stroke I bore.\n As this stranger, whom yet I knew well, I smote, my sword\n brake in twain,\n Yet no fear did he show, and 'vantage he scorned of mischance\n to gain,\n For afar did he cast his sword-blade, since he feared lest\n 'gainst me he sin,\n Yet naught did he know when he spared me that we twain were\n so near akin. 420\n But now have I won his friendship, and his love, and with\n right goodwill\n Would I do to him faithful service as befitteth a brother\n still!'\n\n Then Gawain spake, 'They brought me tidings of a dauntless\n strife and bold,\n In Ch\u00e2teau Merveil the country for six miles may ye well\n behold,\n The pillar within the watch-tower showeth all that within\n that space 425\n Doth chance,--and he spake, King Arthur, that _one_ who there\n strife did face,\n Should be _thou_ cousin mine of Kingrivals, now hast thou the\n tidings brought,\n And we know of a sooth the combat was even as we had thought.\n Now believe me, the truth I tell thee, for eight days here\n our feast we'ld hold\n In great pomp, and await thy coming, shouldst thou seek us,\n thou hero bold. 430\n Now rest here, ye twain, from your combat--but methinks,\n since ye thus did fight,\n Ye shall each know the other better, and hatred shall own\n love's might.'\n\n That eve would Gawain sup early, since his cousin of far\n Thasm\u00e9,\n Feirefis Angevin, and his brother, had tasted no food that\n day.\n And high and long were the cushions that they laid in a ring\n so wide, 435\n And many a costly covering of silk did their softness hide.\n And long, and wide, and silken, were the clothes that above\n them went,\n And the store of Klingsor's riches they spread forth within\n the tent.\n Then four costly carpets silken, and woven so fair to see,\n Did they hang one against the other, so the tale it was told\n to me; 440\n And beneath them, of down were the pillows, and each one was\n covered fair,\n And in such wise the costly couches for the guests would the\n squires prepare.\n\n And so wide was the ring that within it six pavilions right\n well might stand\n Nor the tent ropes should touch each other--(Now wisdom doth\n fail mine hand,\n I will speak no more of these marvels). Then straightway\n Gawain he sent 445\n To King Arthur, he fain would tell him who abode here within\n his tent,\n He had come, the mighty heathen, of whom Ekuba erst did tell\n On Plimiz\u00f6l's plain! And the tidings they rejoiced King\n Arthur well.\n\n And he who should bear the tidings, he was Iofreit, and\n Idol's son;\n And he bade the king sup early, and so soon as the meal was\n done, 450\n With his knights and his host of ladies, to ride forth a\n train so fair,\n And a fit and worthy welcome for Gamuret's son prepare.\n Quoth the king, 'All who here are worthy, of a sooth, will I\n bring with me.'\n Quoth Iofreit, 'Ye fain will see him, so courteous a knight\n is he,\n And a marvel is he to look on--From great riches he forth\n must fare, 455\n For the price of his coat emblazoned is such as no man might\n bear,\n And no hand might count its equal, not in L\u00f6ver or Brittany,\n Or in England, or e'en from Paris to Wizsant beside the sea--\n Nay, all the rich lands between them, were their wealth in\n the balance weighed,\n Then the cost of his goodly raiment, I think me, were yet\n unpaid!' 460\n\n Then again came the knight Iofreit, when he to the king had\n told\n The guise that should best befit him when he greeted the\n heathen bold.\n And within the tent of Gawain the seats were ordered fair,\n In courteous rank and seemly, and the guests to the feast\n repair.\n And the vassals of Orgelus\u00e9, and the heroes within her train 465\n Who gladly for love had served her, they sate there beside\n Gawain.\n Their seats they were on his right hand, on his left were\n Klingsor's knights,\n And over against the heroes sat many a lady bright,\n All they who were Klingsor's captives, in sooth were they\n fair of face,\n And Parzival and his brother, by the maidens they took their\n place. 470\n\n Then the Turkowit, Sir Florant, and Sangiv\u00e9, that noble\n queen,\n Sat over against each other, and in like wise, the board\n between,\n Sat Gowerzein's Duke, brave Lischois, and his wife, the fair\n Kondrie.\n Iofreit and Gawain forgat not each other's mate to be,\n As of old would they sit together, and together, as comrades,\n eat. 475\n The Duchess, with bright eyes shining, by Arniv\u00e9 must find\n her seat,\n Nor forgat they to serve each other with courteous and kindly\n grace--\n At the side sat fair Orgelus\u00e9, while Arniv\u00e9 by Gawain found\n place.\n\n And all shame and discourteous bearing from the circle must\n take their flight,\n And courteous they bare the viands to each maid and each\n gallant knight. 480\n Then Feirefis looked on his brother, and he spake unto\n Parzival;\n 'Now Jupiter ruled my journey so that bliss to my lot would\n fall\n Since his aid shall have brought me hither, and here mine own\n folk I see,\n And I praise the sire that I knew not, of a gallant race was\n he!'\n\n Quoth the Waleis, 'Ye yet shall see them, a folk ye right\n well may love, 485\n With Arthur their king and captain, brave knights who their\n manhood prove.\n So soon as this feast is ended, as methinks it will be ere\n long,\n Ye shall see them come in their glory, many valiant men and\n strong.\n Of the knights of the good Round Table there shall sit at\n this board but three,\n Our host, and the knight Iofreit, and such honour once fell\n to me, 490\n In the days that I showed me worthy, that they prayed me I\n would be one\n Of their band, nor was I unwilling, but e'en as they spake\n 'twas done,'\n\n Now 'twas time, since all well had eaten, the covers to bear\n away\n From before both man and maiden, and this did the squires\n straightway.\n The host would no longer sit there; then the Duchess and\n Arniv\u00e9 spake, 495\n And they prayed that the twain, Sangiv\u00e9 and Kondrie, they\n with them might take;\n And go to the strange-faced heathen, and entreat him in\n courteous wise--\n When Feirefis saw them near him, from his seat did the prince\n arise,\n And with Parzival, his brother, stepped forward the queens to\n meet,\n By his hand did the Duchess take him, and with fair words the\n knight would greet; 500\n And the ladies and knights who stood there she bade them be\n seated all--\n Then the king and his host came riding, with many a trumpet\n call;\n And they heard the sound of music, of tambour, and flute, and\n horn,\n With many a blast drew nearer the king of Arniv\u00e9 born;\n And the heathen this pomp and rejoicing must hold for a\n worthy thing-- 505\n And Guinevere rode with King Arthur, so came they to Gawain's\n ring;\n And goodly the train that followed of ladies and gallant\n knights,\n And Feirefis saw among them fair faces with youth's tints\n bright;\n And King Gramoflanz rode among them, for Arthur's guest was\n he,\n And Itonj\u00e9, his love so loyal, true lady, from falsehood\n free! 510\n\n Then the gallant host dismounted, with many a lady sweet,\n And Guinevere bade Itonj\u00e9 her nephew, the heathen, greet.\n Then the queen herself drew anear him, and she kissed the\n knight Feirefis,\n And Gramoflanz and King Arthur received him with friendly\n kiss;\n And in honour they proffered service unto him, those monarchs\n twain, 515\n And many a man of his kinsfolk to welcome the prince was\n fain.\n And many a faithful comrade Feirefis Angevin had found,\n Nor in sooth was he loth to own here that he stood upon\n friendly ground.\n\n Down they sat them, both wife and husband, and many a\n gracious maid,\n And many a knight might find there (if in sooth he such\n treasure prayed,) 520\n From sweet lips sweet words of comfort--If for wooing such\n knight were fain,\n Then from many a maid who sat there no hatred his prayer\n would gain,\n No true woman shall e'er be wrathful if a true man for help\n shall pray,\n For ever the right she holdeth to yield, or to say him 'Nay,'\n And if labour win joy for payment then such guerdon shall\n true love give-- 525\n And I speak but as in my lifetime I have seen many true folk\n live--\n And service sat there by rewarding, for in sooth 'tis a\n gracious thing\n When a knight may his lady hearken, for joy shall such\n hearing bring.\n\n And Feirefis sat by King Arthur, nor would either prince\n delay\n To the question each asked the other courteous answer to make\n straightway-- 530\n Quoth King Arthur, 'May God be praised, for He honoureth us I\n ween,\n Since this day within our circle so gallant a guest is seen,\n No knight hath Christendom welcomed to her shores from a\n heathen land\n Whom, an he desired my service, I had served with such\n willing hand!'\n\n Quoth Feirefis to King Arthur, 'Misfortune hath left my side, 535\n Since the day that my goddess Juno, with fair winds and a\n favouring tide,\n Led my sail to this Western kingdom! Methinks that thou\n bearest thee\n In such wise as he should of whose valour many tales have\n been told to me;\n If indeed thou art called King Arthur, then know that in many\n a land\n Thy name is both known and honoured, and thy fame o'er all\n knights doth stand.' 540\n\n Quoth Arthur, 'Himself doth he honour who thus spake in my\n praise to thee\n And to other folk, since such counsel he won of his courtesy\n Far more than of my deserving--for he spake of his kindly\n will.\n Yea, in sooth shall my name be Arthur, and the tale would I\n hearken still\n Of how to this land thou camest, if for _love's_ sake thou\n bearest shield, 545\n Then thy love must be fair, since to please her thou ridest\n so far afield!\n If her guerdon be not withholden then love's service shall\n wax more fair,\n Else must many a maid win hatred from the knight who her\n badge doth bear!'\n\n 'Nay, 'twas otherwise,' quoth the heathen; 'Now learn how I\n came to thee,\n I led such a mighty army, they who guardians of Troy would\n be, 550\n And they who its walls besieg\u00e8d, the road to my hosts must\n yield--\n If both armies yet lived, and lusted to face me on open\n field,\n Then ne'er might they win the victory, but shame and defeat\n must know\n From me and my host, of a surety their force would I\n overthrow!--\n And many a fight had I foughten, and knightly deeds had done, 555\n Till as guerdon at length the favour of Queen Sekundill' I\n won.\n And e'en as her wish so my will is, and her love to my life\n is guide,\n She bade me to give with a free hand, and brave knights to\n keep at my side,\n And this must I do to please her; and I did even as she\n would,\n 'Neath my shield have I won as vassals full many a warrior\n good, 560\n And her love it hath been my guerdon--An Ecidemon I bear\n On my shield, even as she bade me, at her will I this token\n wear.\n Since then, came I e'er in peril, if but on my love I thought\n She hath helped me, yea, Jupiter never such succour in need\n hath brought!'\n\n Quoth Arthur, 'Thy gallant father, Gamuret, he hath left thee\n heir 565\n To the heart that on woman's service thus loveth afar to\n fare.\n Of such service I too can tell thee, for but seldom hath\n greater deeds\n Been done for a woman's honour, or to win of her love the\n meed,\n Than were done for the sake of the Duchess who sitteth beside\n us here.\n For her love many gallant heroes have splintered full many a\n spear, 570\n Yea, the spear-shafts were e'en as a forest! And many have\n paid the cost\n Of her service in bitter sorrow, and in joy and high courage\n lost!'\n\n And then the tale he told him of the fame that Gawain had\n found,\n And the knights of the host of Klingsor, and the heroes who\n sat around,\n And of Parzival, his brother, how he fought fierce combats\n twain, 575\n For the sake of Gramoflanz' garland, on Ioflanz' grassy\n plain;\n 'And what other have been his ventures, who never himself\n doth spare\n As thro' the wide world he rideth, that shall he himself\n declare;\n For he seeketh a lofty guerdon, and he rideth to find the\n Grail.\n And here shall it be my pleasure that ye twain, without lack\n or fail, 580\n Shall tell me the lands and the peoples against whom ye shall\n both have fought.'\n Quoth the heathen, 'I'll name the princes whom I here as my\n captives brought':\n\n 'King Papirus of Trogodjent\u00e9, Count Behantins of Kalomedent\u00e9,\n Duke Farjelastis of Africk, and King Tridanz of Tinodent;\n King Liddamus of Agripp\u00e9, of Schipelpjonte King Amaspartins, 585\n King Milon of Nomadjentesin, of Agremontein, Duke Lippidins;\n Gabarins of Assigarziont\u00e9, King Translapins of Rivigatas,\n From Hiberborticon Count Filones, from Sotofeititon, Amincas,\n From Centrium, King Killicrates, Duke Tirid\u00e9 of Elixodjon,\n And beside him Count Lysander, from Ipopotiticon. 590\n King Thoaris of Orastegentesein, from Satarthjont\u00e9 Duke\n Alamis,\n And the Duke of Duscontemedon, and Count Astor of Panfatis.\n From Arabia King Zaroaster, and Count Possizonjus of Thiler,\n The Duke Sennes of Narjoclin, and Nourjent\u00e9's Duke, Acheinor,\n Count Edisson of Lanzesardin, Count Fristines of Janfus\u00e9, 595\n Meiones of Atropfagent\u00e9, King Jetakranc of Ganpfassasch\u00e9,\n From Assagog and Zassamank princes, Count Jurans of\n Blemunz\u00een.\n And the last, I ween, shall a Duke be, Affinamus of\n Amantas\u00een!'\n\n 'Yet one thing for a shame I deemed it--In my kingdom 'twas\n told to me\n Gamuret Angevin, my father, the best of all knights should be 600\n That ever bestrode a charger--Then so was my will and mind,\n That, afar from my kingdom faring, my father I thought to\n find;\n And since then strife hath been my portion, for forth from my\n kingdoms twain\n A mighty host and powerful 'neath my guidance hath crossed\n the main,\n And I lusted for deeds of knighthood; if I came to a goodly\n land, 605\n Then I rested not till its glory paid tribute into mine hand.\n And thus ever I journeyed further--I won love from two noble\n queens,\n Olympia and Klauditt\u00e9; Sekundill\u00e9 the third hath been.\n And well have I served fair women!--Now first must I learn\n to-day\n That my father is dead! My brother, the tale of thy ventures\n say.' 610\n\n And Parzival quoth, 'Since I seek it, The Grail, in full many\n a fight,\n Both far and near, have I striven, in such wise as beseems a\n knight,\n And my hand of their fame hath robbed them who never before\n might fall--\n If it please ye the tale to hearken, lo! here will I name\n them all!'\n\n 'King Schirniel of Lirivoin, and his brother of Avendroin,\n King Mirabel, 615\n King Piblesun of Lorneparz, of Rozokarz, King Serabel,\n Of Sirnegunz, King Senilgorz, and Strangedorz of Villegarunz,\n Rogedal the Count of Mirnetalle and Laudunal of Pleyedunz.\n From Semblidag King Zyrolan, from Itolac Onipreiz,\n From Zambron the Count Plenischanz, and Duke Jerneganz of\n Jeropleis, 620\n Count Longefiez of Teuteleunz, Duke Marangliess of Privegarz,\n From Lampregun Count Parfoyas, from Pictacon Duke Strennolas;\n Postefar of Laudundrehte, Askalon's fair king, Vergulacht,\n Duke Leidebron of Redunzehte, and from Pranzile Count\n Bogudaht,\n Collev\u00e2l of Leterb\u00e9, Jovedast of Arl, a Proven\u00e7al, 625\n Count Karfodyas of Trippar\u00fbn, all these 'neath my spear must\n fall.\n In knightly joust I o'erthrew them the while I the Grail must\n seek!\n Would I say those I felled in _battle_, methinks I o'er-long\n must speak,\n It were best that I here keep silence--Of those who were\n known to me,\n Methinks that the greater number I here shall have named to\n ye!' 630\n\n From his heart was he glad, the heathen, of his brother's\n mighty fame,\n That so many a gallant hero 'neath his hand had been put to\n shame,\n And he deemed in his brother's honour he himself should have\n honour won,\n And with many a word he thanked him for the deeds that he\n there had done.\n\n Then Gawain bade his squires bear hither (yet e'en as he knew\n it not) 635\n The costly gear of the heathen, and they held it was fair I\n wot.\n And knights alike and ladies, they looked on its decking\n rare,\n Corslet, and shield, and helmet, and the coat that was\n blazoned fair.\n Nor narrow nor wide the helmet--And a marvel great they\n thought\n The shine of the many jewels in the costly robe inwrought, 640\n And no man I ween shall ask me the power that in each did\n dwell,\n The light alike and the heavy, for I skill not the tale to\n tell;\n Far better might they have told it, Heraclius or Hercules\n And the Grecian Alexander; and better methinks than these\n Pythagoras, the wise man, for skilled in the stars was he, 645\n And so wise that no son of Adam I wot well might wiser be.\n\n Then the women they spake, 'What woman so e'er thus hath\n decked this knight\n If he be to her love unfaithful he hath done to his fame\n despite.'\n Yet some in such favour held him, they had been of his\n service fain--\n Methinks the unwonted colour of his face did their fancy\n gain! 650\n Then aside went the four, Gawain, Arthur, Gramoflanz, and\n Parzival,\n (And the women should care for the heathen, methinks it would\n please them well.)\n\n And Arthur willed ere the morrow a banquet, rich and fair,\n On the grassy plain before him they should without fail\n prepare,\n That Feirefis they might welcome as befitting so brave a\n guest. 655\n 'Now be ye in this task not slothful, but strive, as shall\n seem ye best,\n That henceforth he be one of our circle, of the Table Round,\n a knight.'\n And they spake, they would win that favour, if so be it\n should seem him right.\n Then Feirefis, the rich hero, he brotherhood with them sware;\n And they quaffed the cup of parting, and forth to their tents\n would fare. 660\n And joy it came with the morning, if here I the truth may\n say,\n And many were glad at the dawning of a sweet and a welcome\n day.\n\n Then the son of Uther Pendragon, King Arthur, in this wise\n spake:\n For Round Table a silk so costly, Drianthasm\u00e9, he bade them\n take--\n Ye have heard how it once was ordered, afar on Plimiz\u00f6l's\n plain, 665\n How they spread them there a Round Table, in such wise was it\n spread again--\n 'Twas cut in a round, and costly it was, and right fair to\n see,\n And on the green turf around it the seats of the knights\n should be.\n It was even a goodly gallop from the seats to the Table\n Round,\n For the Table's self it was not, yet the likeness they there\n had found. 670\n And a cowardly man might shame him to sit there with such\n gallant knights,\n And with sin would his food be tainted since he ate it not\n there of right.\n\n Thro' the summer night 'twas measured, the ring, both with\n thought and care,\n And from one end unto the other with pomp they the seats\n prepare.\n And the cost were too great for a poor king, as they saw it\n in noontide light, 675\n When the trappings, so gay and costly, shone fair in the\n sun-rays bright.\n Gramoflanz and Gawain would pay it, the cost, since within\n their land\n He was but a guest, King Arthur, tho' he dealt with a\n generous hand.\n\n And the night, it seldom cometh but, as it is wont, the sun\n Bringeth back the day and the daylight when the hours of the\n night are run; 680\n And e'en so it befell, and the dawning was clear and calm and\n bright,\n And many a flowery chaplet crowned the locks of many a\n knight;\n And with cheeks and lips unpainted saw ye many a lovely maid,\n And, if Kiot the truth hath spoken, knight and lady they were\n arrayed\n In diverse garb and fashion, with head-gear both high and\n low, 685\n As each in their native country their faces were wont to\n show--\n 'Twas a folk from far kingdoms gathered and diverse their\n ways were found--\n If to lady a knight were lacking she sat not at the Table\n Round,\n But if she for knightly service had promised a guerdon fair,\n She might ride with her knight, but the others, they must to\n their tents repair. 690\n\n When Arthur the Mass had hearkened, then Gramoflanz did they\n see\n With Gowerzein's Duke and Florant; to the king came the\n comrades three,\n And each one a boon would crave here, for each of the three\n was fain\n To be one of the good Round Table, nor this grace did they\n fail to gain.\n And if lady or knight would ask me who was richest of all\n that band, 695\n Who sat as guests in the circle, and were gathered from every\n land,\n Then here will I speak the answer, 'twas Feirefis Angevin,\n But think not from my lips of his riches a further tale to\n win.\n\n Thus in festive guise, and gaily, they rode to the circle\n wide,\n And often to maid had it chanc\u00e8d (so closely the guests must\n ride) 700\n Were her steed not well girthed she had fallen--with banners\n waving high\n From every side of the meadow to each other the groups drew\n nigh;\n And a Buhurd fair was ridden without the Table Round,\n And in courtly guise and skilful no man rode _within_ its\n bound;\n There was space without for the chargers, and they handled\n their steeds with skill, 705\n And rode each one against the other till the ladies had\n looked their fill.\n\n Then in order fair they seat them when 'twas time for the\n guests to eat,\n And cup-bearer, steward, and butler, they bethink them as\n shall be meet,\n How, courteous, to do their office--No lack of food had they,\n And many a maid was honoured as she sat by her knight that\n day. 710\n And many thro' fond heart's counsel had been served by\n knightly deed--\n And Feirefis, and the Waleis, to the maidens they gave good\n heed,\n And they looked on the one and the other, and a fair choice\n was theirs, I ween,\n For never on field or meadow may the eye of man have seen\n So many sweet lips and fair faces as shone there at the Table\n Round, 715\n And the heathen was glad for their beauty, and the joy that\n his heart had found.\n Now hail to the hour that cometh, and the tidings they soon\n shall hear\n From the welcome lips of a maiden who draweth the host anear;\n For a maiden came towards them, and her raiment was fair to\n see,\n And e'en as in France the custom so 'twas fashioned right\n cunningly. 720\n Her mantle was costly velvet, and blacker, I ween, its hue\n Than the coat of a sable jennet; and with gold was it woven\n thro'\n With turtle-doves, all shining, the badge of the Grail were\n they.\n And they looked and they marvelled at her as toward them she\n made her way,\n For swiftly she came, and her head-gear was high and white,\n her face 725\n With many a veil was shrouded, and her features no man might\n trace.\n\n Then with even pace and seemly she rode o'er the turf so\n green,\n And saddle and reins and trappings were costly enow I ween;\n And they let her within the circle--Now she who would tidings\n bring\n No fool was she, but wise maiden--So rode she around the\n ring, 730\n And they showed her where sat King Arthur, nor her greeting\n should fail that day,\n In French was her speech, and in this wise the monarch she\n fain would pray;\n They should wreak not on her their vengeance for the words\n that she spake of yore,\n But hearken unto her message since welcome the news she bore.\n And the king and the queen she pleaded to give unto her their\n aid, 735\n That she failed not to win from the hero the grace that she\n fain had prayed.\n\n Then to Parzival she turned her, since his place by the\n king's was found,\n And she stayed not, but down from her charger she sprang\n swiftly unto the ground,\n And with courteous mien, as beseemed her, fell low at the\n hero's feet,\n And, weeping, she prayed that in friendship her coming he now\n would greet, 740\n And forget his wrath against her, and forgive her without a\n kiss.\n And they joined to her prayer their pleadings, King Arthur\n and Feirefis.\n Of a sooth Parzival must hate her, yet he hearkened to\n friendship's prayer,\n And of true heart and free forgave her--Tho' I say not the\n maid was fair,\n Yet methinks she was honour-worthy--Then swiftly she sprang\n upright, 745\n And thanked those who had won her pardon for the wrong she\n had done the knight.\n Then she raised her hand to her head-gear, were it wimple or\n veil, no less\n Was it cast on the ground, and all men knew Kondrie, the\n sorceress.\n And they knew of the Grail the token and the badge that the\n maiden bare,\n And all men I ween must marvel--Her face it was e'en as fair 750\n As man and maiden saw it when to Plimiz\u00f6l's banks she came,\n Of her countenance have I told ye, and to-day was it still\n the same,\n And yellow her eyes as the topaz, long her teeth, and her\n lips in hue\n Were even as is a violet, that man seeth not _red_ but\n _blue_!\n\n Yet methinks had her will been evil she had borne not the\n head-gear rare 755\n That aforetime, on Plimiz\u00f6l's meadow, it had pleasured the\n maid to wear.\n The sun it had worked no evil, if its rays thro' her hair\n might win\n Yet scarce had they shone so fiercely as to darken one whit\n her skin.\n\n Then courteous she stood, and she spake thus, and good were\n her words to hear,\n In the self-same hour her tidings came thus to the listening\n ear; 760\n 'Oh! well is thee, thou hero, thou Gamuret's son so fair,\n Since God showeth favour to thee whom Herzeleide of old did\n bear.\n And welcome is he, thy brother, Feirefis, the strange of hue,\n For the sake of my Queen Sekundill\u00e9, and the tidings that\n erst I knew\n Of the gallant deeds of knighthood that his valiant hand hath\n done, 765\n For e'en from the days of his childhood great fame for\n himself he won!'\n\n And to Parzival she spake thus, 'Now rejoice with a humble\n heart,\n Since the crown of all earthly blessings henceforward shall\n be thy part,\n For read is the mystic writing--The Grail, It doth hail thee\n king,\n And Kondwiramur, thy true wife, thou shalt to thy kingdom\n bring, 770\n For the Grail, It hath called her thither--Yea, and\n Lohengrin, thy son,\n For e'en as thou left her kingdom twin babes thou by her\n hadst won.\n And Kardeiss, he shall have in that kingdom a heritage rich I\n trow!\n And were no other bliss thy portion than that which I tell\n thee now--\n That with true lips and pure, thou shalt greet him, Anfortas\n the king, again, 775\n And thy mouth thro' the mystic question shall rid him of all\n his pain,\n For sorrow hath been his portion--If joy's light thro' thy\n deed shall shine\n On his life, then of all earth's children whose bliss shall\n be like to thine?'\n\n Seven stars did she name unto him in Arabic, and their might,\n Right well Feirefis should know it, who sat there, both black\n and white. 780\n And she spake, 'Sir Parzival, mark well the names that I tell\n to thee,\n There is Zev\u00e2l the highest planet, and the swift star\n Almustri;\n Almaret and the shining Samsi, great bliss unto thee they\n bring,\n Alligafir is fifth, and Alketer stands sixth in the starry\n ring;\n And the nearest to us is Alkamer; and no dream shall it be,\n my rede, 785\n For the bridle of heaven are they, to guide and to check its\n speed,\n 'Gainst its swiftness their power, it warreth--Now thy sorrow\n is passed away,\n For far as shall be their journey, and far as shall shine\n their ray.\n So wide is the goal of thy riches and the glory thine hand\n shall win,\n And thy sorrow shall wane and vanish--Yet this thing It holds\n for sin, 790\n The Grail and Its power, It forbids thee unlawful desire to\n know,\n And the company of sinners henceforth must thou shun, I trow;\n And riches are thine, and honour, but from these shall thy\n life be free--\n Now thy youth was by sorrow cherished, and her lesson she\n taught to thee,\n But by joy she afar is driven, for thou hast thy soul's rest\n won, 795\n And in grief thou o'er-long hast waited for the joy that is\n now begun.'\n\n Nor seemed ill to the knight her tidings--Thro' joy must his\n eyelids know\n A rain of crystal tear-drops from a true heart's overflow.\n And he quoth, 'If thou speakest, Lady, the thing that indeed\n shall be,\n If God as his knight doth claim me, and they are elect with\n me, 800\n My wife and my child, then I wot well, tho' a sinful man am\n I,\n God looketh with favour on me, and hath dealt with me\n wondrously!\n Of a sooth hast thou here repaid me for the grief thou on me\n hast brought,\n Yet I deem well thy wrath had spared me save that evil myself\n had wrought,\n Nor to bliss was I then predestined--but thou bringest such\n tidings fair 805\n That my sorrow hath found an ending--And these arms do thy\n truth declare,\n For when by the sad Anfortas I sat in Monsalv\u00e4sch' hall,\n Full many a shield I looked on that hung fair on the castle\n wall,\n And with turtle-doves all were blazoned, such as shine on thy\n robe to-day.\n But say, to the joy that awaits me, when and how may I take\n my way, 810\n For I would not there were delaying?' Then she quoth, 'Lord\n and master dear,\n But _one_ knight alone shall ride with thee; choose thou from\n these warriors here\n And trust thou to my skill and knowledge to guide thee upon\n thy way,\n For thy succour Anfortas waiteth, wouldst thou help him, make\n no delay!'\n\n Then they heard, all they who sat there, how Kondrie had come\n again 815\n And the tidings she bare; and teardrops fell soft like a\n summer's rain\n From the bright eyes of Orgelus\u00e9, since Parzival should speak\n The words that should heal Anfortas, nor that healing be long\n to seek.\n Then Arthur, the fame-desirous, spake to Kondrie in courtesy,\n 'Now, Lady, wilt ride to thy lodging? Say, how may we care\n for thee?' 820\n And she quoth, 'Is she here, Arniv\u00e9, what lodging she shall\n prepare,\n That lodging shall well content me till hence with my lord I\n fare;\n If a captive she be no longer, then fain would I see them\n all,\n The queen, and the other ladies, whom Klingsor, in magic\n thrall,\n For many a year hath fettered'--Then they lifted her on her\n steed, 825\n Two knights, and unto Arniv\u00e9 did the faithful maiden speed.\n\n Now the feast drew nigh to its ending--By his brother sat\n Parzival,\n And he prayed him to be his comrade, nor his words did\n unheeded fall,\n For Feirefis spake him ready to Monsalv\u00e4sch' Burg to ride--\n In the self-same hour upstood they, the guests, o'er the ring\n so wide, 830\n And Feirefis prayed this favour from Gramoflanz, the king,\n If in sooth he should love his cousin of that love he would\n token bring;\n 'Both thou and Gawain, ye must help me, whether princes or\n kings they be,\n Or barons, or knights, none betake them from this field till\n my gifts they see.\n Myself had I shamed if I rode hence and never a gift should\n leave, 835\n And the minstrel-folk they shall wait here till they gifts\n from my hand receive.\n And Arthur, this thing would I pray thee, seek that none of\n these knights disdain,\n Tho' lofty their birth, a token of friendship from me to\n gain;\n For the shame, on thyself shalt thou take it--one so rich\n shall they ne'er have known--\n Give me messengers unto the haven that the presents to all be\n shown!' 840\n\n Then they sware them unto the heathen that no man of them\n should depart\n From the field till four days were ended, and the heathen was\n glad at heart,\n And wise messengers Arthur gave him, who should forth to the\n haven fare--\n Feirefis took him ink and parchment, and a letter he bade\n them bear,\n Nor the writing, I ween, lacked tokens of his hand from whom\n it came, 845\n And seldom methinks a letter such goodly return might claim!\n\n Then soon must the messengers ride hence--Parzival stood the\n host before,\n And in French did he tell the story from Trevrezent learnt of\n yore,\n How the Grail, throughout all ages, may never by man be\n known,\n Save by him whom God calleth to It, whose name God doth know\n alone. 850\n And the tale shall be told in all lands; no conflict may win\n that prize,\n And 'tis vain on that Quest to spend them, since 'tis hidden\n from mortal eyes!'\n\n And for Parzival and his brother the maidens must mourn that\n day,\n Farewell they were loth to bid them--Ere the heroes rode on\n their way\n Thro' the armies four they gat them, and they prayed leave\n from each and all, 855\n And joyful, they took their journey, well armed 'gainst what\n might befall.\n And the third day hence to Ioflanz from the heathen's host\n they brought\n Great gifts, so rich and costly, men ne'er on such wealth had\n thought.\n Did a king take of them, his kingdom was rich for evermore--\n And to each as beseemed his station the precious gifts they\n bore, 860\n And the ladies, they had rich presents, from Triant and\n Nouriente--\n How the others rode I know not, but the twain, they with\n Kondrie went!\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XVI\n\nLOHENGRIN\n\n\nARGUMENT\n\nBook XVI. tells of the sorrow of Anfortas and his knights; how he\nprayed them to kill him, and how he would fain have withheld his\n eyes\nfrom the light of the Grail; of the coming of Parzival and\n Feirefis,\nand of the healing of Anfortas.\n\nHow Parzival set forth to meet his wife on the shores of\n Plimiz\u00f6l; and\nhow Trevrezent confessed to having spoken falsely in order to\n withhold\nhim from the Quest.\n\nOf the joyful meeting of Parzival and Kondwiramur; and how\n Kardeiss\nwas proclaimed king of Brobarz, Waleis, Norgals, and Anjou; and\n how\nParzival with Kondwiramur and Lohengrin rode to Monsalv\u00e4sch. How\n on\ntheir way they found Sigun\u00e9 dead, and buried her by her lover.\n\nOf the great feast at Monsalv\u00e4sch; and how Feirefis failed to\n behold\nthe Grail, and of his love for R\u00e9panse de Schoie. How Feirefis\n was\nbaptized, and wedded R\u00e9panse de Schoie; how the twain set forth\n for\nFeirefis' kingdom, and of their son, Prester John. Of Lohengrin\n and the\nDuchess of Brabant; how he was sent to her aid from Monsalv\u00e4sch,\n and\ndwelt with her in peace till she asked the question which drove\n him\nforth.\n\nThe poet blames Chr\u00eatien de Troyes for having done the tale a\n wrong;\nit was Kiot who taught the song aright, to its very end. He,\n Wolfram\nof Eschenbach, will speak no more of it, but he prays that all\n good\nand gracious women will praise him for his song, since he sang it\n to\npleasure a woman.\n\n BOOK XVI\n\n LOHENGRIN\n\n Now Anfortas and his Templars they suffered sore grief and\n pain,\n And their true love in bondage held him, since he prayed them\n for death in vain;\n And in sooth death had been his portion, save they wrought\n that the Grail he saw--\n From the might of Its mystic virtue fresh life must he ever\n draw.\n\n Then he spake to the knights of Monsalv\u00e4sch, 'Of a sooth,\n were ye true of heart, 5\n Ye had pitied ere this my sorrow, how long shall pain be my\n part?\n If reward ye would have as deserving, then God give ye\n payment fair,\n For ever was _I_ your servant since the days that I harness\n bare.\n Atonement in full have I made here for aught I have done of\n wrong\n To ye, e'en tho' none had known it, and my penance endureth\n long! 10\n If ye would not be held unfaithful, by the helmet and shield\n I bore,\n And the bond of our common knighthood, release me from\n bondage sore!\n For this of a truth must ye grant me, if ye do not the truth\n disdain,\n I bare _both_ as a knight undaunted, and fame thro' my deeds\n did gain.\n For hill and vale have I ridden, and many a joust have run, 15\n And with sword-play good from my foemen much hatred methinks,\n I won.\n Yet with ye doth that count for little! Bereft of all joy am\n I;\n Yet, cometh the Day of Judgment, my voice would I lift on\n high,\n And in God's sight, I, one man only, at the last will accuse\n ye all,\n If freedom ye fail to give me, and to Hell shall ye surely\n fall! 20\n For in sooth ye should mourn my sorrow--From the first have\n ye seen the thing,\n And ye know how it came upon me--Now I profit ye not as king,\n And all too soon will ye think so, when thro' me ye have lost\n your soul--\n Alas! why thus ill-entreat me? Ere this had I been made\n whole!'\n\n And the knights from his grief had freed him, save they hope\n from the word must draw 25\n That Trevrezent spake of aforetime, and that writ on the\n Grail he saw.\n And once more would they wait his coming whose joy there had\n waxen weak,\n And the hour that should bring them healing from the question\n his lips should speak.\n\n Then the king of a wile bethought him, and fast would he\n close his eyes,\n And four days long so he held them, when the knights, in\n their 'customedwise, 30\n Before the Grail would bear him, if he said them or yea, or\n nay;\n But his weakness so wrought upon him, as before the shrine he\n lay,\n That his eyelids he needs must open, and against his will\n must live,\n For the Grail held death far from him and fresh life must Its\n vision give.\n\n And so was it with Anfortas till the day when Parzival 35\n And Feirefis his brother, rode swift to Monsalv\u00e4sch' hall;\n And the time was near when the planet, its course in high\n heaven run,\n Mars or Jupiter, glowing wrathful, its station had well-nigh\n won,\n And the spot whence it took its journey--Ah! then was an evil\n day\n That wrought ill to the wound of Anfortas, and the torment\n would have its way; 40\n And maiden and knight must hearken as the palace rang with\n his cries,\n And the help that no man might give him he besought with\n despairing eyes,\n For past all aid was he wounded, and his knights could but\n share his grief--\n Yet the tale saith he drew ever nearer who should bring him\n alone relief.\n\n Then oft as the bitter anguish in its bondage the hero held, 45\n The taint of the wound to banish, the hall was with sweetness\n filled,\n For before him they spread on the carpet Terebinth, and\n odours fair\n Of aromatic spices and sweet woods filled the scented air.\n Teriak and precious Ambra, and methinks that their smell was\n sweet--\n Cardamom, Jeroffel, Muscat, lay broken beneath the feet 50\n Where'er one set foot on the carpet; and e'en as each\n footstep fell\n Their perfume arose, and their freshness, of the venom\n o'ercame the smell.\n And his fire was of Lignum aloe, as methinks ye have heard\n afore--\n Of the horny skin of the viper had they fashioned the pillars\n four\n That stood 'neath his couch--'Gainst the venom must his\n knights on the cushions strew 55\n Powder of roots so precious, whose healing scent they knew.\n Well stuffed, but unsewed, was the covering against which the\n monarch leant,\n And the silk and the mattress 'neath it were of Palm\u00e2t of\n Nouriente.\n And the couch itself was yet richer, with many a precious\n stone\n Was it decked, nor were others found there save the rarest of\n jewels alone; 60\n And by Salamanders woven were the cords which the bed did\n bind,\n Yea even the fastening 'neath it--Yet no joy might Anfortas\n find.\n The couch on all sides was costly, (no man shall contend I\n ween\n That he in the days of his lifetime a richer shall e'er have\n seen,)\n 'Twas precious alone from the virtue of the jewels and their\n magic power, 65\n Would ye learn their names, then hearken, for we know them\n unto this hour.\n\n Carbuncle and Balas ruby, Silenite, and Chalcedony,\n Gagatromeus, Onyx, Coral, and Bestion, fair to see.\n And there too were Pearl and Opal, Ceraunius and Epistites,\n Jerachites, Heliotropia, Panterus, Agate, and Emathites. 70\n Antrodragma, Praseme, and Saddae, Dionisia and Celidon,\n Sardonyx and red Cornelian, Jasper and Calcofon.\n Echites, Iris, Gagates, and Lyncurium, with many more,\n Asbestos and Cecolithus, and Jacinth, that rich couch bore.\n Galactida, Orites, Enydrus, and Emerald, glowing green, 75\n Absist and Alabanda, and Chrysolect had ye seen.\n Hiennia, Sapphire, Pyrites, and beside them, here and there,\n Turquoise, and Lippar\u00e8a, Chrysolite, and Ruby fair--\n Paleisen, Sardius, Diamond, Chrysoprasis, and Malachite,\n Diadoch, Peanite, and Medus with Beryl and Topaze bright. 80\n\n And many they taught high courage, and others such virtue\n knew\n That healing skill they taught men, and fresh life from their\n power they drew.\n And many their strength won from them, if aright they might\n use their art,\n And therewith would they tend Anfortas whom they loved with a\n faithful heart--\n And great grief had he brought his people, yet joy soon his\n lot shall be-- 85\n To Terre de Salv\u00e4sch from Ioflanz he rideth to speak him\n free,\n Parzival, with the maid and his brother, nor in truth did I\n ever hear\n The distance these three had journeyed ere they drew to the\n Burg anear;\n But conflict had been their portion had Kondrie not been\n their guide,\n But afar from all strife did she hold them, and in peace on\n their way they ride. 90\n\n So came they at length to an outpost--Then swiftly towards\n them sped\n Many Templars well armed and mounted, and right soon they the\n truth had read,\n And they knew by the guide that succour at last to their\n walls should draw,\n And the Captain he spake out gladly as the Turtle-doves he\n saw\n Gleam fair on Kondrie's vesture, 'Now an end hath it found,\n our grief, 95\n With the sign of the Grail he cometh who shall bring to our\n king relief,\n The knight we have looked and have longed for since the dawn\n of our sorrow's day--\n Stand ye still, for great gladness cometh, and our mourning\n is past away!'\n\n Feirefis Angevin would urge him, his brother, to joust to\n ride,\n But Kondrie, she grasped his bridle, lest conflict should\n there betide, 100\n And the maiden, true but unlovely, spake thus unto Parzival,\n 'Shield and banner, thou sure shouldst know them, of the\n Grail are these heroes all,\n And ready to do thee service.' Then out spake the heathen\n bold,\n 'If so it shall be, from battle mine hand may I well\n withhold.'\n\n Then Parzival prayed that Kondrie would ride forward, the\n knights to meet, 105\n And she rode, and she spake of the gladness that neared them\n with flying feet.\n And, one and all, the Templars sprang straightway unto the\n ground,\n And from off their head the helmet in the self-same hour\n unbound,\n And Parzival they greeted, and they were in his greeting\n blest,\n And Feirefis they welcomed as befitted a noble guest. 110\n And then with the twain to Monsalv\u00e4sch the Templars they took\n their way;\n Though they wept, yet methinks that gladness was the fount of\n their tears that day.\n\n And a countless folk they found there, many grey-haired\n knights and old,\n And pages of noble bearing, and of servants, a host untold.\n And sad were the folk and mournful, whom their coming might\n well rejoice, 115\n And Parzival and his brother they welcomed with friendly\n voice,\n And kindly did they receive them, without, in the palace\n court,\n At the foot of the noble stairway, and the knights to the\n hall they brought.\n\n And, e'en as was there the custom, a hundred carpets round,\n Each one with a couch upon it, were spread there upon the\n ground; 120\n And each couch bare a velvet covering, and methinks, if the\n twain had wit,\n The while that the squires disarmed them 'twould pleasure\n them there to sit.\n And a chamberlain came towards them, and he brought to them\n vesture fair,\n And each should be clad as the other, and many a knight sat\n there.\n And they bare many precious vessels of gold, (none I ween was\n glass,) 125\n And the twain they drank, and upstood them to get them to\n Anfortas.\n\n And this have ye heard of aforetime, how he lay, for he\n scarce might sit,\n And the couch and its goodly decking, forsooth have ye read\n of it.\n And the twain did Anfortas welcome with gladness, and yet\n with grief,\n And he spake, 'O'er-long have I waited tho' I win from thine\n hand relief; 130\n But a while ago didst thou leave me in such wise, art thou\n true of heart,\n And thinkest to aid my sorrow, thou must have in repentance\n part.\n If e'er men have praised thy valour, then be thou to my woe a\n friend,\n And pray of these knights and maidens that death may my\n torment end;\n If _Parzival_ men shall call thee, then forbid me the Grail\n to see 135\n Seven nights and eight days, and I wot well my wailing shall\n silenced be!\n Nor further I dare to warn thee--Well for thee if thou help\n canst bring!\n A stranger shall be thy comrade, and I think it an evil thing\n That thus he doth stand before me, say wherefore no thought\n dost take\n For his comfort, and bid him seat him?' Then Parzival,\n weeping, spake: 140\n\n 'Now say where the Grail It lieth? If God's mercy He think to\n show,\n And it be o'er His wrath the victor, this folk, they shall\n surely know!'\n Then three times on his knee he bowed him in the Name of the\n Trinity,\n And three times he prayed that the sorrow of Anfortas should\n ended be,\n Then he stood upright, and he turned him to the monarch, and\n thus he spake: 145\n '_What aileth thee here, mine uncle?_' He who Lazarus from\n death did wake,\n And by the mouth of His saint, Sylvester, a dead beast to\n life did bring,\n Wrought healing and strength on Anfortas--and all men beheld\n the king,\n And what French folk shall know as '_Florie_' it shone on his\n face so fair,\n And Parzival's manly beauty was but as the empty air! 150\n Yea, Vergulacht, Askalon's monarch, and Absalom, David's son,\n And all who the dower of beauty as their birthright shall\n e'er have won--\n E'en Gamuret, as men saw him draw near unto Kanvoleis,\n So wondrous fair to look on--they were naught unto all men's\n eyes\n When matched with the radiant beauty that forth from his\n bitter woe 155\n He bare, the King Anfortas--such skill God doth surely know!\n\n No choice was there for the Templars since the writing upon\n the Grail\n Had named unto them their ruler, and Parzival did they hail\n Their king and their lord henceforward; and I ween ye in vain\n would seek\n Would ye find two men as wealthy, if of riches I here may\n speak, 160\n As Parzival and his brother, Feirefis Angevin--\n And many a proffered service the host and his guest did win.\n\n I know not how many stages queen Kondwiramur had made\n On her journey towards Monsalv\u00e4sch, nor, joyful, her steps\n delayed,\n For already the truth had been told her, and a messenger\n tidings bare, 165\n And she knew that her grief was ended and her gladness had\n blossomed fair.\n And led by her uncle, Kiot, and by many a hero bold,\n Had she come unto Terre de Salv\u00e4sch and the wood where they\n fought of old;\n Where in joust Segramor had fallen, and her lord did her\n likeness know\n In the threefold blood-drops mystic, on the white of the\n drifted snow. 170\n And there should Parzival seek her, and tho' toilsome and\n rough the way\n Yet never a gladder journey had he ridden than he rode that\n day!\n\n Then a Templar tidings brought him, 'E'en as doth her rank\n beseem\n Full many a knight so courteous rideth hither beside the\n queen.'\n Then Parzival bethought him, with the knights of the Holy\n Grail 175\n To Trevrezent did he ride first, and he told him the wondrous\n tale;\n From his heart was the hermit joyful that it thus with\n Anfortas stood,\n Nor death was his lot, but the question brought rest to the\n hero good.\n And he quoth, 'Yea, God's power is mighty--Who doth at His\n Council sit?\n Who hath known of His strength the limit? What Angel hath\n fathomed it? 180\n God is Man, and the Word of His Father; God is Father at once\n and Son,\n And I wot thro' His Spirit's working may succour and aid be\n won!'\n\n Then Trevrezent quoth to his nephew, 'Greater marvel I ne'er\n may see\n Than that thou by thy wrath hast won blessing, and th'\n Eternal Trinity\n Hath given thee thy desiring! Yet aforetime in sooth I lied, 185\n For I thought from the Grail to bring thee, and the truth I\n from thee would hide.\n Do thou for my sin give me pardon, henceforth I thy hand\n obey,\n O my king, and son of my sister!--Methinks that I once did\n say\n That the spirits cast forth from Heaven thereafter the Grail\n did tend\n By God's will, and besought His favour, till their penance at\n last did end. 190\n But God to Himself is faithful, and ne'er doth He changing\n know,\n Nor to them whom I named as forgiven did He ever forgiveness\n show.\n For they who refuse His service, He Himself will, I ween,\n refuse,\n And I wot they are lost for ever, and that fate they\n themselves did choose.\n And I mourned for thy fruitless labour, for ne'er did the\n story stand 195\n That the Grail might by man be conquered, and I fain had\n withheld thine hand;\n But with _thee_ hath the chance been other, and thy prize\n shall the highest be,\n But since God's Hand doth give It to thee, turn thine heart\n to humility.'\n\n Quoth Parzival to his uncle, 'I would see her I ne'er might\n see\n For well-nigh five years--When together we dwelt she was dear\n to me, 200\n And no whit less dear shall she now be! Yet thy counsel I\n fain would hear\n So long as death fail to part us, thou didst help me in need\n so drear!\n Now I ride to my wife, since she cometh to meet me upon my\n way,\n By Plimiz\u00f6l's banks doth she wait me, and leave I from thee\n would pray.'\n\n And the good man bade 'God speed him,' and he rode thro' the\n dusky night, 205\n And his men knew the woodland pathways--In the early morning\n light\n He found that which brought him gladness; full many a tent\n stood fair,\n From out the kingdom of Brobarz many banners were planted\n there,\n With many a shield beneath them--there lay princes from out\n his land,\n And Parzival fain would ask them where the tent of the queen\n might stand? 210\n If her camp lay apart from the others? Then they showed him\n where she should be,\n And a goodly ring around her of tents did the hero see.\n And Duke Kiot of Katelangen, he had risen ere dawn of day,\n And he looked on the band of riders who came by the woodland\n way.\n\n And tho' grey was the light of the morning, yet, as the host\n nearer drew, 215\n Kiot saw the Dove on their armour, and the arms of the Grail\n he knew;\n And the old man sighed as he thought him of Schoysian\u00e9, his\n lovely bride,\n How he won her in bliss at Monsalv\u00e4sch, and how she untimely\n died.\n Towards Parzival he stepped him, and he bade him a greeting\n fair;\n By a page he bade the queen's Marshal a lodging meet prepare 220\n For the knights who had there drawn bridle--in sooth 'twas a\n gallant band--\n Then to the queen's dressing-chamber he led Parzival by the\n hand,\n ('Twas a small tent made of buckram,) and there, in the\n waxing light,\n His harness they take from off him ere he pass to his lady's\n sight.\n\n And the queen she knew naught of his coming--her twin sons\n beside her lay, 225\n Lohengrin and Kardeiss; and their father, methinks he was\n glad that day!\n There he found them slumbering sweetly, in a tent both high\n and wide,\n And many a lovely lady lay sleeping on either side.\n Then Kiot, he drew the covering from the queen, and he bade\n her wake,\n And look, and laugh, and be joyful, and her love to her arms\n to take; 230\n And she looked up and saw her husband; and naught but her\n smock she bare,\n The covering she wrapt around her, and sprang swift on the\n carpet fair,\n Kondwiramur, the lovely lady--and Parzival held her tight,\n And they say that they kissed each other, the queen and her\n faithful knight.\n 'Thou joy of my heart! Good Fortune hath sent thee again to\n me,' 235\n She quoth, and she bade him welcome, 'Now in sooth I should\n wrathful be,\n Yet have I no heart for anger! Ah! blest be the dawn and the\n day\n That this dear embrace hath brought me, which all sorrow must\n drive away.\n For now at last have I found thee, whom my heart hath desired\n so long,\n And grief in my heart is vanquished, and sighing is turned to\n song.' 240\n\n And now from their sleep they wakened, both Lohengrin and\n Kardeiss,\n Naked they lay on their pillows, and fair in their father's\n eyes,\n And, joyful, Parzival kissed them whom he never had seen\n before--\n Then at Kiot's courteous bidding the babes from the tent they\n bore,\n And Kiot, he bade the maidens to get them from out the tent, 245\n And they greeted their lord, long absent, ere yet on their\n way they went.\n Then he bade the queen care for her husband, and the maidens\n from thence he led,\n And the curtains they drew together, for as yet was the night\n scarce sped.\n\n Now if blood and snow had robbed him of his senses and wit of\n yore,\n (In this self-same spot its message the snow to his true\n heart bore,) 250\n For such sorrow she well repaid him, Kondwiramur, his wife--\n Nor elsewhere had he sought love's solace in payment for\n love's fierce strife,\n Tho' many their love had proffered--I ween that in bliss he\n lay,\n And converse sweet, till morning drew nigh to the middle day.\n\n And the army, they rode together, on the Templars had they\n gazed, 255\n And their shields in jousts were pierc\u00e8d, and with many a\n sword-blow grazed;\n And each knight he wore a surcoat of silk or of velvet rare,\n And their feet were shod with iron, nor harness beside they\n bare.\n\n Nor longer they cared to slumber--Then the queen alike and\n king\n Arose, and e'en as they bade him, a priest the Mass would\n sing; 260\n And closely they thronged together, that army, brave and\n good,\n Who in their queen's day of peril her shield 'gainst Klamid\u00e9\n stood.\n Then, the benediction given, his men greeted Parzival,\n Many gallant knights and worthy, their true words from true\n lips must fall.\n\n From the tent they take the hangings, and the king spake,\n 'Say which is he, 265\n Of my boys, who henceforward ruler of your folk and your land\n shall be?'\n And further he spake to the princes, 'Both Waleis and\n Norgal's land,\n And their towns, Kingrivals and Kanvoleis, by his birthright\n shall serve his hand,\n With B\u00e9alzenan and Anjou, should he grow unto man's estate;\n And thither shall ye fare with him, and shall there on his\n bidding wait. 270\n Gamuret was he called, my father, and he left them to me, his\n heir,\n But I, by God's grace, have won me an heritage yet more fair!\n Since the Grail shall be mine, I bid ye your fealty to swear\n anew\n To my child, ere this hour be ended, if your hearts shall to\n me be true!'\n And of right goodwill they did this--Ye saw many proud\n banners wave, 275\n And two little hands the tenure of many a wide land gave.\n And there did they crown Kardeiss king; and, when many a year\n had flown,\n Kanvoleis, and Gamuret's kingdom they needs must his lordship\n own--\n And then by Plimiz\u00f6l's water did they measure a circle wide\n That there a feast might be holden ere again on their way\n they ride. 280\n Nor long at the board they tarried; no longer the host might\n stay,\n The tents were struck, with their child-king they wended\n their homeward way.\n\n And many a maid and vassal must bid to their queen Farewell\n In such wise that they made loud mourning, and many a\n teardrop fell.\n And Lohengrin and his mother did the Templars take in their\n care, 285\n And with them to the Burg of Monsalv\u00e4sch again on their\n journey fare.\n Quoth Parzival, 'Once in this woodland an hermitage did I\n see,\n And thro' it a rippling brooklet flowed swift on its way so\n free;\n If ye know where it stands ye shall show me.' His comrades\n swift answer gave,\n They knew one; 'There dwells a maiden, and she weeps o'er her\n true love's grave; 290\n A shrine of all goodness is she--Our road it doth lead that\n way,\n And her heart is ne'er free from sorrow.' 'That maid will we\n see to-day,'\n Quoth Parzival, and the others, as he willed, so they thought\n it good,\n And onward they spurred their chargers, and rode thro' the\n lonely wood.\n\n And they found, in the dusk of the evening, on her knees\n Sigun\u00e9 dead, 295\n And the queen wept for bitter sorrow--Then they brake thro'\n unto the maid;\n Parzival, for the sake of his cousin, bade them raise of the\n tomb the stone,\n There, embalmed lay Schionatulander, nor long should he lie\n alone,\n For beside him they laid the maiden, who in life to him true\n love gave\n In such wise as beseemed a maiden, and they closed o'er the\n twain the grave. 300\n And she wept for her uncle's daughter, the queen, with a\n faithful heart;\n Schoysian\u00e9, the dead maid's mother, had shown her a mother's\n part,\n And had cared for her in her childhood, and therefore she\n sorrow knew:\n And Parzival's aunt, too, was she, if the tale Kiot read be\n true.\n\n Kiot knew not the death of his daughter, he was guardian to\n King Kardeiss-- 305\n (Nor my tale like the bow shall be bended, but straight as an\n arrow flies,)\n They delayed not upon their journey, to Monsalv\u00e4sch they came\n by night,\n And the hours Feirefis must wait them sped swift in their\n joyful flight.\n And they lighted many a taper, 'twas as flamed all the\n woodland wide,\n And a Templar of Patrigalt, arm\u00e8d, by the queen's bridle rein\n did ride; 310\n And broad and wide was the courtyard, and many a host stood\n there,\n And they welcomed the queen, and a greeting to their lord and\n his son they bare;\n And they bore Lohengrin to his uncle, Feirefis, who was black\n and white,\n And the babe turned aside nor would kiss him--as children oft\n do from fright!\n\n But gaily he laughed, the heathen--Then they gat them from\n out the court, 315\n When first the queen had dismounted, who joy with her coming\n brought--\n And they led the guests so noble, where, with many a lady\n fair,\n Both Feirefis and Anfortas awaited them on the stair.\n R\u00e9panse de Schoie, and from Greenland, Garschiloie, the fair\n of face,\n Florie of L\u00fcnel, the bright-eyed, rich were they in maiden\n grace. 320\n There she stood, than a reed more graceful, to whom beauty\n nor truth should fail,\n The daughter of Reil's lord, Jernis, as Anflis\u00e9 the maid they\n hail;\n And of Tenabroc, maid Clarischanz, sweet was she, and bright\n to see,\n And so slender her shape, I think me, an ant's scarce might\n slighter be.\n\n Feirefis stepped toward his hostess, and he kissed her e'en\n as she bade, 325\n And a kiss did she give Anfortas, for she joyed that his woe\n was stayed.\n Feirefis by the hand must lead her where her husband's aunt\n she found,\n R\u00e9panse de Schoie, and she kissed her, and the maidens who\n stood around,\n And her lips that were red aforetime thro' kissing grew yet\n more red,\n (And sorely I ween doth it grieve me, that this labour, I, in\n her stead, 330\n Might not here have taken on me, for weary in sooth was she;)\n Then her maids by the hand they take her, and they lead her\n in courteously.\n\n And the knights, in the hall they waited, that with countless\n tapers bright\n Was decked, on the walls they sparkled, and burnt with a\n steady light,\n For a solemn feast they made ready, when the Grail should be\n shown to all; 335\n For it was not on every feast-day, that they bare It thro'\n the hall,\n But on high festivals only--When nearer their aid should\n draw,\n On that even when joy forsook them, and the bleeding spear\n they saw,\n 'Twas then, that the Grail might help them, that It thus\n thro' the hall was borne--\n Yet Parzival asked no question, and left them of joy\n forlorn-- 340\n But now, in joy and gladness, might they look on the Grail\n again,\n For at last was their mourning ended, and their sorrow was\n pierced and slain!\n\n When the queen her riding garment had put off, and decked her\n hair,\n She came in such garb as beseemed her, in the light of the\n tapers fair;\n And Feirefis stepped to meet her, and he took her by the\n hand, 345\n And no man gainsaid his fellow, that in this, or in other\n land,\n None might speak of a fairer woman! And rich was the garb she\n wore,\n A silk by a skilled hand woven, such as Sarant had wrought of\n yore,\n And with cunning and skill had fashioned in Thasm\u00e9, the\n paynim town--\n Feirefis Angevin, he led her thro' the palace hall adown, 350\n And the three great fires they burnt there with Lignum aloe\n sweet;\n And more there were by forty, both carpets alike and seats,\n Than the time when Parzival sat there and looked on the\n wondrous Grail,\n But one seat above all was costly, nor the host to his place\n should fail.\n And Feirefis, and Anfortas, they should sit there beside the\n king-- 355\n And, courteous, they did them service, who the Grail to the\n hall should bring.\n\n Aforetime methinks ye heard it, how they to Anfortas bare\n The Grail, even so would they do now 'fore the child of King\n Tampent\u00e4re,\n And Gamuret's son--The maidens, no longer they make delay,\n Five-and-twenty in rightful order they wend thro' the hall\n their way. 360\n And Feirefis gazed on the first maid, with her sweet face and\n waving hair,\n And she pleased him well, yet the others who followed were\n yet more fair;\n And costly and rich their garments, and lovely each maiden's\n face,\n But R\u00e9panse de Schoie, who followed, was first in her maiden\n grace,\n And the Grail, so men have told me, might be borne by her\n hands alone; 365\n Pure was her heart, and radiant as sunlight her fair face\n shone.\n\n Did I tell ye of all the service--how many did water pour,\n And the tables they bare, (I wot well far more than they had\n of yore,)\n How discord fled from the palace; how the cars on their\n circuit rolled,\n With their freight of golden vessels, 'twere long ere the\n tale were told. 370\n For the sake of speed would I hasten--with reverence from the\n Grail\n Each took of the fowl of the forest, wild or tame, nor their\n drink should fail;\n Each took wine or mead as it pleased him, Claret, Morass, or\n Sinopel;\n At Pelrap\u00e4r 'twas far other, as Gamuret's son might tell!\n\n Then the heathen would know the wonder--What hands did these\n gold cups fill 375\n That stood empty here before him? The wonder, it pleased him\n still!\n Then answered the fair Anfortas, who sat by the heathen's\n side,\n 'Seest thou not the Grail before thee?' But Feirefis replied,\n 'Naught I see but a green Achmardi, that my Lady but now did\n bear,\n I mean her who stands before us with the crown on her flowing\n hair, 380\n And her look to mine heart hath pierc\u00e8d--I deemed I so strong\n should be\n That never a wife nor a maiden my gladness should take from\n me;\n But now doth it sore displease me, the love I may call mine\n own--\n Discourteous indeed I think me to make unto thee my moan\n When I never have done thee service! What profits my wealth,\n I trow, 385\n Or the deeds I have done for fair women, or the gifts that I\n gave but now,\n Since here I must live in anguish! Nay, Jupiter, thou wast\n fain\n I should ride here, didst hither send me to torment of grief\n and pain?'\n\n And the strength of his love, and his sorrow, turned him pale\n where he erst was light--\n Kondwiramur, she had found a rival in this maiden's beauty\n bright-- 390\n In her love-meshes did she hold him, Feirefis, the noble\n guest,\n And the love that he erst had cherished he cast it from out\n his breast.\n What recked he of Sekundill\u00e9, her love, and her land so fair,\n Since she wrought on him woe so bitter, this maiden beyond\n compare?\n Klauditt\u00e9, and Sekundill\u00e9, Olympia, and many more, 395\n Who in distant lands had repaid him with love for his deeds\n of yore,\n What cared he now for their kindness? It seemed but a\n worthless thing\n To Gamuret's son, the heathen, great Zassamank's noble king!\n\n Then he saw, the fair Anfortas, his comrade in pain so sore,\n (For the spots in his skin waxed pallid, and heavy the heart\n he bore,) 400\n And he spake, 'Sir Knight, it doth grieve me if thou dost for\n my sister mourn,\n No man for her sake hath sorrowed since the day that the maid\n was born.\n No knight for her joust hath ridden; to none doth she favour\n show;\n But with me did she dwell at Monsalv\u00e4sch, and hath shared in\n my bitter woe,\n And it somewhat hath dimmed her beauty, since she seldom hath\n joyful been-- 405\n Thy brother is son to her sister, he may help thee in this I\n ween.'\n\n 'If that maiden shall be thy sister,' quoth Feirefis Angevin,\n 'Who the crown on her loose locks weareth, then help me her\n love to win.\n 'Tis she that my heart desireth--What honour mine hand hath\n won\n With shield and spear in Tourney, for her sake hath it all\n been done, 410\n And I would she might now reward me! The Tourney hath\n fashions five,\n And well known unto me is each one, nor against knightly rule\n I strive.\n Spear in rest 'gainst the foe have I ridden; I have smitten\n him from the side;\n His onslaught have I avoided; nor to fair joust have failed\n to ride\n In gallop, as should beseem me; I have followed the flying\n foe-- 415\n Since the shield, it hath been my safeguard, such sorrow I\n ne'er may know\n As that which to-day besets me--I have fought with a fiery\n knight\n At Agremontein, I bare then a shield of Asbestos bright,\n And a surcoat of Salamander, else sure had I there been\n burned;\n And in sooth my life have I perilled, and my fame have I\n dearly earned. 420\n Ah! would but thy sister send me to battle for love's reward,\n In strife would I do her bidding, and her fame and mine own\n would guard.\n And ever my heart fierce hatred to my god Jupiter shall bear,\n If he make not an end of my sorrow, and give me this maiden\n fair!'\n\n Of the twain, Frimutel was the father, and therefore Anfortas\n bore 425\n E'en such face and such form as his sister--Then the heathen,\n he looked once more\n On the maiden and then on her brother--What they bare him of\n drink or meat\n No morsel he ate, yet he sat there as one who made feint to\n eat.\n\n Then to Parzival spake Anfortas, 'Sir King, it doth seem to\n me\n That thy brother, who sitteth by me, he faileth the Grail to\n see!' 430\n And Feirefis spake that he saw naught, nor knew what It was\n 'the Grail';\n And they hearkened his words, the Templars, and a marvel they\n deemed the tale.\n And Titurel needs must hear it, in his chamber the old king\n lay,\n And he quoth, 'If he be a heathen, then such thought shall he\n put away\n As that eyes unbaptized may win them the power to behold the\n Grail! 435\n Such barriers are built around It, his sight to the task\n shall fail.'\n\n Then they bare to the hall these tidings, and the host and\n Anfortas told\n How that which the folk did nourish, Feirefis, he might ne'er\n behold,\n Since from heathen eyes It was hidden, and they prayed him to\n seek the grace\n Of Baptism, by its virtue he should win him in Heaven a\n place. 440\n\n 'If I, for your sake, be baptiz\u00e8d, will that help me to win\n my love?'\n Spake Gamuret's son, the heathen--'As a wind shall all\n sorrows prove,\n That wooing or war shall have brought me, to the grief that I\n now must feel!\n If long or short the time be since I first felt the touch of\n steel,\n And fought 'neath a shield, such anguish ne'er hath fallen\n unto my share, 445\n And tho' love should, I ween, be hidden, yet my heart would\n its grief declare!'\n\n 'Of whom dost thou speak?' quoth the Waleis, 'Of none but\n that lady bright,\n Who is sister to this, thy comrade--If thou, as a faithful\n knight,\n Wilt help me to win the maiden, I will give her with kingly\n hand\n Great riches, and men shall hail her as queen over many a\n land!' 450\n 'If to Baptism thou wilt yield thee,' spake the host, 'then\n her love is thine,\n (And as _thou_ I right well may hail thee, since the Grail\n and Its realm are mine,\n And our riches methinks are equal)'--Quoth Feirefis Angevin,\n 'Then help me to bliss, my brother, that the love of thine\n aunt I win.\n And, if Baptism be won by battle, then help me to strife I\n pray, 455\n That I, for sweet love's rewarding, may do service without\n delay.\n And mine ear well doth love the music when the spear-shafts\n in splinters break,\n And the helmet rings clear 'neath the sword-thrust, and the\n war-cry the echo wakes.'\n\n Then Parzival laughed out gaily, and Anfortas, he laughed yet\n more,\n 'Nay, nay,' quoth the host, 'such blessing is no guerdon for\n deeds of war. 460\n I will give unto thee the maiden, by true Baptism's grace and\n power,\n But the god and the love of a heathen shalt thou leave in the\n self-same hour;\n And to-morrow, at early dawning, will I give to thee counsel\n true,\n Whose fruit shall be seen in the crowning of thy life with a\n blessing new!'\n\n Now Anfortas, before his sickness, in many a distant land 465\n Had won him fair fame, for Love's sake, by the deeds of his\n knightly hand.\n And the thoughts of his heart were gentle, and generous he\n was and free,\n And his right hand had won full often the guerdon of victory;\n So they sat in the wondrous presence of the Grail, three\n heroes true,\n The best of their day, and the bravest that sword-blade in\n battle drew. 470\n\n An ye will, they enough had eaten--They, courteous, the\n tables bare\n From the hall, and as serving-maidens, low bent they, those\n maidens fair.\n And Feirefis Angevin saw them as forth from the hall they\n passed,\n And in sorrow and deeper anguish I ween was the hero cast.\n And she who his heart held captive, she bare from the hall\n the Grail, 475\n And leave did they crave of their monarch, nor his will to\n their will should fail.\n\n How the queen, herself, she passed hence; how men did their\n task begin;\n Of the bedding soft they brought him who for love's pain no\n rest might win;\n How one and all, the Templars, with kindness would put away\n His grief, 'twere too long to tell ye--speak we now of the\n dawning day. 480\n\n In the light of the early morning came his brother, Parzival,\n With the noble knight Anfortas, and in this wise the tale\n they tell;\n This knight who to love was captive, proud Zassamank's lord\n and king,\n They prayed, of true heart, to follow, and they would to the\n Temple bring,\n And before the Grail they led him--And there had they bidden\n stand 485\n The wisest men of the Templars--knights and servants, a\n goodly band,\n Were there ere the heathen entered: the Font was a ruby rare,\n And it stood on a rounded pillar that of Jasper was fashioned\n fair,\n And of old Titurel, he gave it, and the cost was great I\n ween--\n Then Parzival spake to his brother, 'This maid wouldst thou\n have for queen, 490\n Then the gods thou hast served henceforward thou shalt for\n her sake forswear,\n And ever thine arms, as a true knight, 'gainst the foes of\n the true God bear,\n And, faithful, still do His bidding'--'Yea, aught that may\n win my love,'\n Quoth the heathen, 'I'll do right gladly, and my deeds shall\n my truth approve.'\n Now the Font, toward the Grail had they turned it, filled\n with water, nor hot nor cold, 495\n And a priest by its side did wait them, and grey-haired he\n was, and old;\n He had plunged 'neath baptismal waters full many a paynim\n child,\n And he spake to the noble heathen, and gentle his speech and\n mild--\n 'If thy soul thou wouldst wrest from the Devil, thou shalt\n serve Him who reigns on high,\n And Threefold is He, yet but One God for aye is the Trinity. 500\n God is Man, and the Word of His Father, God is Father at once\n and Son,\n And alike shall the twain be honoured, and the Spirit with\n them is One!\n In the Threefold Name shall it cleanse thee, this water, with\n Threefold might,\n And from shadow of heathen darkness shalt thou pass into\n Christian light.\n In water was He baptiz\u00e8d, in Whose likeness was Adam made, 505\n And each tree from the water draweth its sap, and its leafy\n shade.\n By water all flesh is nourished, and all that on earth doth\n live,\n And the eyes of man are quickened, such virtue doth water\n give;\n And many a soul it cleanseth, till it shineth so pure and\n white\n That the angels themselves in heaven methinks shall be scarce\n so bright!' 510\n\n To the priest then he spake, the heathen, 'If it bringeth me\n ease for woe\n I will swear whatsoe'er thou biddest--If reward in her love I\n know,\n Then gladly I'll do His bidding--Yea, brother, I here believe\n In the God of my love, and for her sake all other gods I'll\n leave,\n (For such sorrow as she hath brought me I never have known\n before,) 515\n And it profiteth naught Sekundill\u00e9 the love that to me she\n bore,\n And the honour that she hath done me--All that shall have\n passed away--\n In the Name of the God of my father would I fain be baptized\n to-day!'\n\n Then the priest laid his hands upon him, and the blessing\n baptismal gave,\n And he did on the chrisom vesture, and he won what his soul\n did crave, 520\n For e'en as he was baptiz\u00e8d they made ready the maiden mild,\n And for christening gift they gave him King Frimutel's lovely\n child.\n\n From his eyes had the Grail been hidden ere baptismal waters\n bright\n Had passed o'er his head, but henceforward, 'twas unveiled to\n his wondering sight,\n And, e'en as the rite was over, on the Grail they this\n writing read; 525\n 'The Templar whom God henceforward to a strange folk should\n send as head,\n Must forbid all word or question of his country, or name, or\n race,\n If they willed he aright should help them, and they would in\n his sight find grace.\n For the day that they ask the question that folk must he\n leave straightway'--\n Since the time that their king, Anfortas, so long in his\n anguish lay, 530\n And the question o'er-long awaited, all questions but please\n them ill,\n The knights of the Grail, and no man doth question them with\n their will.\n\n Then, baptized, Feirefis the Christian to Anfortas made\n urgent prayer,\n He should ride with him to his kingdom, and his riches with\n him should share;\n But, with courtesy, Anfortas to the knight and his prayer\n said 'Nay, 535\n Naught shall hinder the willing service that to God I would\n give alway;\n 'Tis a goodly crown, the Grail crown, thro' pride was it lost\n to me,\n Henceforth do I choose as my portion a life of humility,\n And riches and love of women shall be strangers unto my\n heart--\n Thou leadest with thee a fair wife, henceforth shall it be\n her part 540\n With true love to reward thy service, as to women is fit and\n fair,\n But I for the love of mine Order henceforward mine arms will\n bear;\n For the Grail and Its service only I many a joust will ride,\n But I fight never more for women--thro' a woman did ill\n betide!\n Yet no hatred I bear to women, high courage and joy they give 545\n Unto men, tho' _I_ won but sorrow while I did in their\n service live.'\n\n But yet, for the sake of his sister, Feirefis rested not to\n pray\n That Anfortas should journey with them, but ever he said them\n nay.\n Then he prayed Lohengrin should fare with him, but the\n mother, she willed it not;\n And King Parzival spake, 'In the service of the Grail hath he\n part and lot, 550\n And my son, he is pledged to the Order, and a faithful heart\n and true\n Must he bear in the holy service--God grant him the will\n thereto!'\n\n Then in joy and in fair diversion, till eleven days were\n o'er,\n Feirefis abode at Monsalv\u00e4sch, on the twelfth would he ride\n once-more,\n He would lead his wife, this rich man, to his army that yet\n did wait 555\n His coming, and Parzival sorrowed for the brother he won so\n late,\n And mourned sore when he heard the tidings--Then counsel he\n took straightway,\n And a goodly force of the Templars did he send with them on\n their way,\n Thro' the woodland paths should they guide them--Anfortas,\n the gallant knight,\n Himself fain would be their escort--sore wept many maidens\n bright. 560\n\n And new pathways they needs must cut them to Karkobra's city\n fair--\n Then Anfortas, he sent a message to him who was Burg-grave\n there;\n And he bade him, if aye of aforetime rich gifts from his hand\n he won\n To bethink him, that so this service of true heart by him be\n done;\n His brother-in-law with his lady, the king's sister, he now\n must guide 565\n Thro' the wood Loehprisein, where the haven afar lieth wild\n and wide--\n For now 'twas the hour of parting, nor further the knights\n must fare,\n But Anfortas, he spake to Kondrie, and he bade her the\n message bear.\n Then from Feirefis, the rich man, the Templars leave did\n pray,\n And the courteous knight and noble rode hence on his homeward\n way. 570\n\n And the Burg-grave no whit delayed him, but he did e'en at\n Kondrie's word,\n And gave welcome fair and knightly to the folk and their\n noble lord.\n Nor might Feirefis grow weary of his stay, at the dawn of\n day,\n With many a knight as escort, they guided him on his way.\n But I know not how far he had ridden, nor the countries his\n eyes had seen 575\n Ere he came once more to Ioflanz, and its meadow, so fair and\n green.\n\n And some of the folk yet abode there--and Feirefis fain had\n known,\n In the self-same hour, the tidings of whither the host had\n flown;\n For each one had sought his country, and the road that full\n well he knew--\n King Arthur to Camelot journeyed with many a hero true-- 580\n Then he of Tribalibot hastened, and his army he sought once\n more,\n For his ships lay yet in the haven, and they grieved for\n their lord full sore\n And his coming brought joy and courage to many a hero bold--\n The Burg-grave and his knights from Karkobra he rewarded with\n gifts and gold--\n And strange news did they tell unto Kondrie, for messengers\n sought the host, 585\n Sekundill\u00e9 was dead; with the tidings they many a sea had\n crossed.\n Then first in her distant journey did R\u00e9panse de Schoie find\n joy,\n And in India's realm hereafter did she bear to the king a\n boy;\n And _Prester John_ they called him, and he won to himself\n such fame\n That henceforward all kings of his country were known by no\n other name. 590\n And Feirefis sent a writing thro' the kingdoms whose crown he\n bore,\n And the Christian Faith was honoured as it never had been of\n yore.\n (And Tribalibot was that country which as _India_ here we\n know.)\n Then Feirefis spake to Kondrie, and he bade her his brother\n show\n (Who reigneth in far Monsalv\u00e4sch) what had chanced unto him,\n the king, 595\n And the death of Queen Sekundill\u00e9--and the tidings the maid\n did bring;\n And Anfortas was glad and joyful to think that his sister\n fair,\n Without or strife or conflict, the crown of those lands might\n bear.\n\n Now aright have ye heard the story of the children of\n Frimutel,\n Five they were, and three are living, and death unto two\n befell. 600\n And the one was Schoysian\u00e9, who was pure in the sight of God,\n And the other was Herzeleide, and falsehood her soul\n abhorred;\n And the sword and the life of knighthood, Trevrezent, he had\n laid them down\n For the love of God, and His service, and the hope of a\n deathless crown.\n And the gallant knight, Anfortas, pure heart and strong hand\n he bore, 605\n And well for the Grail he jousted, but for women he fought no\n more.\n And Lohengrin grew to manhood, and cowardice from him flew,\n And his heart yearned for deeds of knighthood, to the Grail\n he did service true.\n\n Would ye further hear the story? A maiden, in days of yore,\n Whose heart was free from falsehood, the crown of a fair land\n bore-- 610\n Her heirdom was rich and noble, and lowly and pure her heart,\n And no taint of earthly longing had found in her soul a part.\n And wooers she had in plenty, of crown\u00e8d kings, I ween,\n And princes, whose race and kingdom fit mate for her own had\n been.\n Yet so humble she was, the maiden, she thought not of earthly\n love-- 615\n And the counts of her realm waxed wrathful, since no pleading\n her soul could move,\n And their anger raged hot against her that she gave not her\n maiden hand\n To one who should be fit ruler o'er her folk, and her goodly\n land.\n In God was her trust, whatever men might in their anger\n speak,\n And guiltless, she bare the vengeance her folk on her head\n would wreak. 620\n But she called of her land the princes, and they journeyed\n from far and near,\n From many a distant country, the will of their queen to hear.\n And she sware she would have no husband, and no man as her\n lord would own\n Save him whom God's Hand should send her, his love would she\n wait alone.\n\n Of the land of Brabant was she princess--From Monsalv\u00e4sch he\n came, the knight 625\n Whom God at His will should send her, and his guide was a\n swan so white.\n He set foot in her land at Antwerp, and she knew that her\n heart spake true,\n And gallant was he to look on, and all men the hero knew\n For a noble knight and manly, and his face, it was wondrous\n fair,\n And his fame was in every kingdom where men did his deeds\n declare. 630\n And a wise man he was, free-handed, with never a doubting\n heart,\n And faithful and true, and falsehood it found in his life no\n part.\n\n A fair welcome the princess gave him--now list ye unto his\n rede,\n Rich and poor stood there around him, and they gave to his\n words good heed,\n And he spake thus, 'My Lady Duchess, if thou wilt not mine\n hand refuse, 635\n But wilt have me for lord and husband, for thy sake I a\n kingdom lose--\n But hearken to what I pray thee, ask thou never who I may be,\n And seek not to know my country, for so may I abide with\n thee.\n In the day thou dost ask the question of my love shalt thou\n be bereft--\n Take thou warning, lest God recall me to the land which\n erewhile I left.' 640\n Then she pledged her faith as a woman that her love, it\n should ne'er wax less,\n She would do e'en as he should bid her, and never his will\n transgress\n So long as God wit should give her--Her love did he win that\n night,\n And Lord of Brabant and its Duchess they hailed him with\n morning light.\n\n And the marriage feast was costly, and many a knight the land 645\n That of right should be his, as vassal, must take from his\n princely hand.\n For he gave ever righteous judgment, and many a gallant deed\n Of knighthood he did, and, valiant, he won of fair fame his\n meed.\n Fair children were born unto them--The folk of Brabant yet\n know\n Of the twain, how he came unto them, and wherefore he thence\n must go, 650\n And how long he dwelt among them ere her question broke the\n spell,\n And drove him forth, unwilling, for so shall the story tell.\n The friendly swan, it sought him, and a little boat did\n bring,\n And he sailed thence, and left as tokens his sword, and his\n horn, and ring.\n So _Lohengrin_ passed from among them, for in sooth this\n gallant knight 655\n Was Parzival's son, and none other, if the tale ye would know\n aright.\n By water-ways he sought it, the home of the Grail, again--\n And what of the lovely duchess who longed for her lord in\n vain?\n Why drove she hence her true love? since he bade her be\n warned of yore,\n And forbade her to ask the question when he landed on\n Brabant's shore-- 660\n Here Herr Erec should speak, for, I think me, he knoweth the\n tale to tell\n Of revenging for broken pledges, and the fate that such\n speech befell!\n\n If Chr\u00eatien of Troyes, the master, hath done to this tale a\n wrong,\n Then _Kiot_ may well be wrathful, for he taught us aright the\n song,\n To the end the Proven\u00e7al told it--How Herzeleide's son the\n Grail 665\n Did win, as was fore-ordain\u00e8d when Anfortas thereto did fail.\n And thus, from Provence, the story to the German land was\n brought,\n And aright was it told, and the story doth lack in its ending\n naught.\n I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, think me that here-of will I speak\n no more--\n Of Parzival's race, and his kindred, of that have I told\n afore; 670\n To the goal of his bliss have I brought him--he whose life\n such an end shall gain,\n That his soul doth not forfeit Heaven for sins that his flesh\n shall stain,\n And yet, as true man and worthy, the world's favour and grace\n doth keep\n Hath done well, nor hath lost his labour, nor his fame shall\n hereafter sleep!\n And if good and gracious women shall think I be worthy\n praise, 675\n Since I tell to its end my story, then joyful shall be my\n days.\n And since for the love of a woman I have sung it, this song\n of old,\n I would that, in sweet words gentle, my guerdon by her be\n told!\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDICES\n\n\nEXCURSUS A\n\nWOLFRAM'S SOURCE\n\nIn examining into the source whence Wolfram derived this poem, it may\nbe well to restate briefly the problem as indicated in the Preface.\nWe may take it as an acknowledged fact, disputed by none, that for\nthe bulk of his work, from the commencement of Books III. to XIII.,\nand inclusive of part of the latter, Wolfram drew from a French\nsource; he himself says that this source was the poem of 'Kiot the\nProven\u00e7al,' and, while acquainted with the work of Chr\u00eatien de Troyes,\nhe distinctly avows his preference for Kiot over Chr\u00eatien, saying that\nChr\u00eatien had told the story wrongly, for which Kiot might well be\nwrathful with him. From this we gather that, granting the existence of\nthe two French versions, Kiot's had preceded Chr\u00eatien's.\n\nThe difficulties in the way of accepting Wolfram's own definite\nstatement are twofold: first, that no trace of such a poem, or such\na poet, exists (which in itself is not an insuperable difficulty);\nsecond, and more serious, that we do possess the poem of Chr\u00eatien de\nTroyes, and that it presents such striking features of similarity to\nWolfram's version that it is clear that if one were not the source of\nthe other, there is a common source at the root of both.\n\nNow, of Chr\u00eatien's source he only tells us that Count Philip of\nFlanders gave him the book in which he found this story of Perceval and\nthe Grail, but of the author of the book he says no word. Of Kiot's\nsource, Wolfram tells us that the story of the origin of the Grail was\nfound in a MS. at Toledo, written in Arabic by a heathen astronomer,\nFlegetanis; and it also appears, from a passage in Book VIII. p. 238,\nthat the story of Parzival was contained in the same MS. That Kiot\nthen sought through the chronicles of various countries for some\nconfirmation of the tale, and finally found the record of the Grail\nkings in the chronicles of Anjou.\n\nOf the sources thus variously given, the book possessed by Count Philip\nof Flanders, the Arabic MS. of Flegetanis, the Chronicles of Anjou,\nand Kiot's poem founded upon these two last, the Chronicles of Anjou\nalone remain to us; do they throw any light on the question or not?\nIt has long been asserted that they do _not_, and it is true that\nthey contain no record of the Grail kings, nor, though King Arthur\nis mentioned, and treated as an historical personage, do we find\nany mention of Mazadan, Gamuret, Herzeleide, and Parzival under the\nsame names; but it also seems equally clear that the writer of the\n_Parzival_ knew the Chronicles of Anjou, and in the case of each of\nthe characters mentioned above it is not difficult to trace a distinct\ncorrespondence between what is recorded in the _Parzival_ and real\npersonages and events of Angevin history. (A reference to Appendix\nA, vol. i., 'on the Angevin allusions' will show how close in some\ncases this parallel is.) Now we find that the greater number of these\nallusions are contained in the earlier part of the poem, Books I., II.,\nand III., some of the most striking, _e.g._ the account of the origin\nof the Angevin House; the parallel between Gamuret and Fulk V.; and the\nintroduction of Herzeleide, being in the two first books; _i.e._ that\npart of the poem peculiar to Wolfram's version is also the part of the\npoem richest in indications of a knowledge of Angevin history.\n\nThe fact that Wolfram has an introduction, and a completion, to the\nPerceval legend which agree perfectly one with the other, and are not\nfound elsewhere, naturally leads to the inference that he either had\na source other than Chr\u00eatien, or that he invented the books himself;\nwhich latter Simrock claims to have been the case. In a case of this\nkind, where there is an utter lack of external testimony to help us,\nwe can only judge from the internal evidence of the work itself, and\nhere we are met at the outset by the startling phenomenon of a poem,\nascribed to the invention of a _German_ poet, abounding in allusions\nto a contemporary _French_ line of princes, and evidently designed for\nthe glorification of that house. It is perfectly true that the princely\nfamily in question had risen to a point of greatness that resulted in\ntheir dominating for some years European politics, but, in the absence\nof any testimony connecting Wolfram with the House of Anjou, we are at\nleast entitled to ask how he possibly came to give such a colour to his\npoem. It is impossible to avoid being perplexed by such questions as\nthese; how did Wolfram come to be so familiar with the early history of\nthe Angevin counts? If he wished to glorify any reigning prince why did\nhe not choose a German, say Hermann of Thuringia, rather than lead to\nthe suspicion that he wished to compliment a house represented at the\ntime _he_ wrote by its very worst and weakest descendant, John of Anjou\nand England? Why did he lay the adventures of his hero's father in the\nEast, and bring into the story the curious and enigmatic personality\nof Feirefis, and, having invented him, give him a name of undoubted\n_French_ origin? And even if we pass over the difficulties of the first\ntwo books we are met by other questions just as puzzling, _e.g._ why\ndid Wolfram, who had so high an idea of fidelity to his source, and\nwho blamed so strongly the leading poet of his day for the fault of\ndeparting from his supposed model, represent the Grail and the dwellers\nin Its castle in the light in which he did? There is no parallel to his\nGrail-stone or the 'Templeisen' throughout the whole Grail literature,\nand we cannot escape from the alternative of admitting that if Wolfram\ndid not invent all this he found it in a source unknown to us.\n\nThe problem of the Grail has been attempted to be solved by the\nhypothesis of a misunderstanding of Chr\u00eatien de Troyes, this solution\nis of course _possible_, but it must be admitted that it has the\nappearance rather of an ingenious evasion than an explanation of a\ndifficulty, and it holds good for nothing beyond the bare presentment\nof the Grail as a _stone_. The Angevin problem, on the other hand, has\nso far never been solved at all, and only its removal hinted at by\nthe suggestion that Walter Mapes was the author of Wolfram's source,\nwhich of course admits that Wolfram _had_ a source other than Chr\u00eatien,\nand therefore by implication throws doubt on the above suggested\nexplanation of the Grail which is based on the supposition that\nChr\u00eatien, and Chr\u00eatien alone, was the source of Wolfram's information.\nIn fact, so long as we refuse to admit the truth of Wolfram's own\nexplicit statements, so long shall we find the interpretation of\nthe _Parzival_ beset with innumerable difficulties, the attempted\nexplanation of one part of the problem only rendering the remaining\nportion more obscure; but if we will accept it as possible that Wolfram\ngave a correct account of the source of his poem, and, divesting our\nminds of all preconceived ideas in favour of this or that theory,\ncarefully examine the indications afforded by the poem itself, we\nmay find that there _is_ a solution which will meet, more or less\nfully, all the difficulties which beset the question. Now, as remarked\nabove, when Wolfram wrote his poem the power of the Angevin House was\nbeginning to decline, the date assigned to the _Parzival_, with which\ndate all the internal evidences agree, is within the first fifteen\nyears of the thirteenth century, a period exactly corresponding to the\nreign of John, and it may be the first two or three years of that of\nhis successor Henry III., and it was during the fatuous misgovernment\nof these princes that the edifice so carefully built up by the early\nAngevin counts fell to pieces. Works in glorification of any special\nhouse or kingdom are not, as a rule, written during that house or\nkingdom's period of decadence, rather during its time of growth and\naggrandisement, and we find as a fact that the events which led to\nthe accession of an Angevin count to the throne of England 'stirred\nup, during the early years of Henry Fitz-Empress' reign, a spirit of\npatriotic loyalty which led more than one of his subjects to collect\nthe floating popular traditions of his race, and weave them into a\nnarrative which passed for a history of the Angevin counts.' (Cf.\n_England under the Angevin Kings_, vol. ii. p. 195.) It is therefore\nto this period rather than to a later date, _i.e._ to Wolfram's source\nrather than to Wolfram himself, that historical testimony would bid\nus assign the Angevin allusions. History also forbids us to assume\nthat _Chr\u00eatien_ could have been the source of Wolfram's information;\nChr\u00eatien was of Troyes, in Champagne, therefore an adherent of the\nHouse of Blois who were hereditary foes of the Angevin counts, and not\nwithout reason, as the latter were most undesirable neighbours, and\nnever lost a chance of increasing their dominions at the expense of\ntheir fellow-princes. At one time or another, either by marriage or by\nconquest, they annexed all the surrounding estates (though they grasped\nconsiderably more than they could permanently hold), and after the\nmarriage of Henry Fitz-Empress with Eleanor of Aquitaine, the heiress\nof Poitou and Guyenne, and of his son Geoffrey with Constance of\nBrittany, the whole of the coast-line of France belonged to the Angevin\npossessions. It was not surprising that princes of such an acquisitive\nnature should have many enemies, and when Henry's sons rebelled\nagainst him they were not without friends to back them up, among them,\napparently, was the very Count Philip of Flanders from whom Chr\u00eatien\nreceived the book from whence he drew his poem. If then Wolfram in\nhis first two books was following a French poet, that poet was _not_\nChr\u00eatien.\n\nBut if the Angevin counts had many foes they had also many adherents,\nnot only in Europe but in the East, their connection with which dated\nback to the reign of Fulk Nerra, or Fulk the Palmer. It was not to a\nmember of an unknown house that Baldwin, king of Jerusalem, in 1129\nsent an invitation to become his son-in-law and successor; nor did\nFulk, when he left Anjou for Jerusalem, go alone--we are expressly told\nthat he took a large army with him. Fulk himself died in 1142, but he\nleft sons who succeeded him, so that the Angevin rule in the East did\nnot end with his death.\n\nIs it then impossible, or even improbable, that this 'Kiot the\nProven\u00e7al' of whom Wolfram speaks was an adherent of the House of\nAnjou, who had followed their fortunes in the East, and who, coming\nunder the spell of the Grail myth in its connection with the Perceval\nlegend, remodelled the story, probably then still in a rough and\ntransitional form, in accordance with his own personal experiences\nand prepossessions? Do not all the indications afforded by the poem\nfavour this theory? Such a man would have been thoroughly familiar\nwith the legends that had gathered round the early Angevin princes, as\nwell as with the historical facts connected with their successors; he\nwould have come into contact with the Order of the Knights Templars\nin a land where they were in deed, and not merely in name, guardians\nof the Faith; he would be familiar with many a legend of precious\nstones, the favourite talisman of the East, and would know the special\nvirtue ascribed to each; above all, he would have seen before him in\na concrete form the contest between faith and unbelief, darkness and\nlight, Christianity and Heathendom, a black race and a white, which\nforms at least one of the leading ideas in the interpretation of the\npoem.\n\nIn fact, if we will allow the existence of such a writer as a travelled\nAngevin might well have been, we shall find all the principal problems\nof the _Parzival_ admit of a rational explanation. Even the central\npuzzle, Wolfram's representation of the Grail, is explicable on such\nan hypothesis. We know how very vague Chr\u00eatien's account of the Grail\nis; how much in the dark he leaves us as to Its outward form, Its\ninfluence, and Its origin. A writer _before_ Chr\u00eatien is scarcely\nlikely to have been more explicit; what more likely than that a man\nlong resident in the East, and familiar, as has been said above, with\nEastern jewel talismans and the legends connected with them, when\nconfronted with this mysterious Grail, of which no definite account\nwas given, yet which apparently exercised a magical life-sustaining\ninfluence, should have jumped to the conclusion of Its, at least\npartial, identity with the precious stones of the power of which he had\nheard so much?\n\nAnd in connection with this it is worthy of note that Wolfram\nrepresents the Grail as lying on a _green_ Achmardi; in other versions\nof the Grail romances it is red, or white, samite that we find\nmentioned as veiling the relic. Throughout the poem we find _green_\nconstantly mentioned, _e.g._ Gamuret's equipment, the robes of the\nGrail maidens and of Gramoflanz, the cross over Gamuret's grave,\nTrevrezent's shrine or reliquary; all these allusions seem to point\nto the writer's familiarity with green as a royal and sacred colour,\na knowledge which could only have been gained in the East. Nor, as\nmentioned in note to Book IX., is the description of the Grail the only\ninstance of a mystical influence being attributed to a precious stone,\nbut throughout the whole poem the constant mention of gems, and, in\nspecial instances, of the virtue they possess, is one of the marked\npeculiarities of the poem, and one of the features which differentiate\nit from Chr\u00eatien's version.\n\nThat Wolfram had a model for these earlier books, and one that he was\nfollowing closely, appears from the description he gives in two places\nof Kailet's armour; in Book I. we find '_do rekande ich abr wol dinen\nstr\u00fbs, ame schilde ein sarapandra test_,' and in Book II. '_stit d\u00een\nstr\u00fbs noch sunder nest? Du solt din sarapandra test gein sinem halben\ngr\u00eefen tragen_,' where in both instances it is distinctly implied that\nKailet had _two_ badges, an ostrich on his helmet and a snake's head on\nhis shield, which is, to say the least, extremely unlikely. What seems\nto be really meant is that Kailet carried the figure of the entire bird\non his helmet, and a representation of its head on his shield; the\nlikeness in the shape of the latter to a snake's head has often been\ncommented upon, and the ostrich, from its curious head and neck, has\nbeen known as 'the serpent bird.' It seems clear that here at least\nWolfram was following another description, and one which he did not\naltogether understand.\n\nAs to the conclusion to be drawn from the proper names which occur\nin such profusion throughout the poem, this question has been so\nfully treated by Bartsch (cf. vol. i. Appendix B) that it would be\nsuperfluous to discuss it here; and the correspondence between the\nTiturel poems and the Parzival, which argues a common source for both,\nhas also been adequately discussed, but the addition of the arguments\nto be derived from the correspondence existing between Wolfram's\nAngevin allusions and the facts of Angevin history, seems to put it\nbeyond doubt that there is a strong body of evidence in support of\nWolfram's own statement that he had a French source other than Chr\u00eatien\nde Troyes; and, if we admit that he spoke the truth so far, it seems\nonly logical to believe that he was also speaking the truth when he\ngave the name of the author of his source as '_Kiot the Proven\u00e7al_.'\n\n\nEXCURSUS B\n\nRELATION OF WOLFRAM TO CHR\u00caTIEN\n\nIn explanation of the striking agreement which exists between the\n_Parzival_ of Wolfram von Eschenbach and that part of _Li Conte del\nGraal_ which we owe to Chr\u00eatien de Troyes, three solutions may be\nsuggested: (_a_) That Chr\u00eatien was the source of Wolfram; (_b_) That\nChr\u00eatien and Wolfram both drew from a common source, that source, if\nWolfram is to be believed, being Kiot; (_c_) That Chr\u00eatien, who wrote\nbefore Wolfram, drew from a source anterior to Wolfram, which source\nwas also used by Kiot.\n\nFor reasons already stated we may dismiss (_a_) without further\nargument, and accept Wolfram's statement as to the existence of\na French poem other than Chr\u00eatien's; but the question as to the\nrelationship existing between these two poems, whether the one was\ndirectly the source of the other (as Wolfram seems to have supposed),\nor whether both represent a common source, requires to be carefully\nexamined.\n\nThe principal difference between the _Parzival_ and the _Conte del\nGraal_ is in the Introduction, which is missing entirely in Chr\u00eatien,\nwhose account of Perceval's father and of his death is at variance\nwith all the other versions, and has been supplemented by a later\nIntroduction, more in harmony with what seems to have been accepted as\nthe original form of the story, _i.e._ with the fact of the death of\nthe hero's father _before_ his birth, and the flight of the _widowed_\nmother into the woods. Now, it is of course quite possible, it is\neven highly probable, that Chr\u00eatien, had he known a version of the\nstory such as Wolfram gives, would have rejected it on account of its\nconnection with the House of Anjou, but we cannot base any argument\non the absence of this introduction, since Chr\u00eatien left his poem\nunfinished at a point before the close connection between the first\ntwo books and the ending of the story becomes apparent in Wolfram.\nHad Chr\u00eatien lived to complete his work we should have then been in a\nbetter position to judge whether he knew Kiot's poem and deliberately\nset it on one side, or whether he was following another version.\n\nClosely as the two poems agree, it is noticeable that, in more than one\ninstance, Chr\u00eatien's version of an incident is more in harmony with the\nstory as told in other members of the Grail cycle than is Wolfram's;\n_e.g._ Parzival's visit to the court of King Arthur, and Gawain's\nadventure in the Ch\u00e2teau Merveil, both of which have been fully treated\nin the Notes. It is curious also that in the three versions of the\nstory most closely agreeing, the _Conte del Graal_, _Parzival_, and\n_Peredur_, we find the bleeding lance and the sword in each, while\nfor the 'Grail' talisman we have variously, an enigmatic object of\ngold set with precious stones, a stone, and a bleeding head on a dish;\nthis variation seems to point to the conclusion that the lance and\nsword, and not the 'Grail,' were the original features of the story;\nand accordingly we find in Chr\u00eatien that it is the lance, and not the\nGrail, which Gawain goes to seek; and the lance is also treated at\ngreater length than is the Grail.\n\nIf Wolfram and Chr\u00eatien were drawing from the same source it seems\nstrange that it is in the work of that one of the two who avowedly\nplaces a high value on adherence to the traditional form of the story\nthat we miss just these archaic features.\n\nAgain, Wolfram and Chr\u00eatien differ very decidedly in their presentment\nof the Grail knights and their organisation; if so striking and\neffective a feature existed in a source common to both, it is difficult\nto understand why Chr\u00eatien omitted it; he could have had no such grudge\nagainst the Order of Templars as he would reasonably have against the\nHouse of Anjou, and it is equally difficult to believe that if it was\n_not_ in the source, Wolfram departed from his avowed principle of\nfidelity so far as to introduce it.\n\nWe also find the same ideas introduced in a different context; thus,\nwhen Perceval leaves his mother to go out into the world, among her\ncounsels the French poet includes, '_Preudom ne forconselle nie celui\nki tient sa compagnie_'; in Wolfram we have no such phrase, but when\nParzival arrives at Gurnemanz's Castle we find him saying, '_M\u00een\nmuoter saget al w\u00e2r, Alt mannes rede st\u00eat niht se v\u00e2r_,' which in the\nParzival she did _not_ say. It is evident that in the two versions\ncounsel and application have become separated, and in this case again\nit seems more probable that the counsel would originally have been\ngiven without the application, as by Chr\u00eatien, than _vice versa_ as by\nWolfram. On the other hand, Mr. Nutt points out in his _Studies_ that\nPerceval's recognition of the knights as _angels_ is quite at variance\nwith his mother's representation of armed men as _devils_, whereas in\nthe _Parzival_ the whole episode is clear and consistent. Here the\nFrench poet has evidently dropped out something, and there are other\ninstances, such as the names of Gurnemanz's sons, in which the German\npoem seems to have followed an older tradition.\n\nBut on the whole, a careful comparison of the two poems seems to show\nthat Wolfram's version is further removed from the original form of the\nstory than is Chr\u00eatien's, and that therefore the probability is that\nthe common basis of the two poems was a work known to the two _French_\npoets.\n\nIn support of this theory it may be noted as a curious fact that while\n_Chr\u00eatien_ avowedly bases his poem on a book given to him by the\nCount of Flanders, _Wolfram's_ poem really contains more references\nto Flanders than Chr\u00eatien's does. Thus we have several allusions to\nLambekein, Duke of Brabant; Brandelidelein of Punturtois figures\nprominently both in the second and in the later books, and his city\n'Der Wazzervesten stat von Punt' (_punt_=_pont_=bridge) is suspiciously\nlike Bruges; to say nothing of the connection of the Lohengrin story\nwith Brabant and Antwerp. It has been pointed out already by critics\nthat Gerbert, one of Chr\u00eatien's continuators, has the same connection\nof the Grail winner with the knight of the swan, which seems to\nindicate that the stories were not first connected by the _German_ poet\n(Gerbert also connects with the Swan Knight with the Deliverer of the\nHoly Sepulchre, an Oriental and Crusading feature quite in harmony with\nwhat has been suggested with regard to Wolfram's French source).\n\nOn the whole, the evidence seems to point to the conclusion that the\nsource of Kiot's poem was identical with the book delivered to Chr\u00eatien\nby the Count of Flanders; and the connection between Wolfram and\nChr\u00eatien is that of a source from which Chr\u00eatien drew at first, Wolfram\nat second hand, Wolfram's medium having treated the legend with far\nmore freedom and boldness than was common at that date.\n\n\nEXCURSUS C\n\nTHE INTERPRETATION AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF THE POEM\n\nThe question of the interpretation to be placed upon the _Parzival_ is\none of the most important parts of the problem under discussion. As\na rule it has been treated apart from the question of the _source_,\nfor critics have been pretty generally unanimous in declaring that\nwhatever the authority followed as to the story, its employment as a\nmedium of ethical edification was due to Wolfram and to Wolfram alone.\nBut a careful examination of the poem seems to indicate that not only\nwere the first germs of a spiritual interpretation due to another and\nolder writer, but also that a very close and important connection\nexists between the interpretation and the source, as alleged by Wolfram\nhimself.\n\nNow, whether we are treating of the source or of the inner\nsignification of the poem, one of the most important elements in the\nquestion is the character of Feirefis. That this curious personality\nis as closely connected with the inner, as with the outer, development\nof the story many critics have readily admitted, and therefore the\nquestion of the _origin_ of the character becomes one of no little\nimportance. If we can prove that Feirefis is beyond doubt the invention\nof Wolfram, then we have a strong argument for believing that the\nethical teaching is also entirely Wolfram's; but if the evidence\npoints the other way, and is in favour of the theory that Feirefis is\nan integral part of the original French source, then there is strong\nground for believing that the semi-allegorical treatment of the subject\nwas also part of Kiot's scheme. Simrock feels this so strongly that he\nadvances the close connection of Feirefis alike with the _grund-idee_\nof the poem and the first two books to prove that Wolfram _must_ have\nwritten those books, since to him alone the moral teaching can be due.\n\nBut is the evidence in favour of the German authorship of these books?\nIs it not, as we have shown in the discussion of the Angevin allusions,\ndistinctly _against_ such a conclusion? And here we must not overlook\nthe fact that the _Angevin_ parentage is insisted on far more strongly\nin the case of Feirefis than in that of his brother; it seems indeed\nas if the elder brother were regarded specially as the son of his\nfather, from first to last he is 'Feirefis Angevin,' whereas Parzival\nis regarded more as the son of the mother through whom he is connected\nwith the mystic race of the Grail-kings, and bears throughout the title\nof 'Waleis,' his mother's, not his father's, land.\n\nA close study of the poem seems to show that it came into Wolfram's\nhands an organic whole; in spite of the strong individuality of the\nGerman poet which has stamped itself on every page, in spite of the\nconstant personal allusions, of the characteristic form into which\nhe has remoulded the story, we feel that he has never lost sight\nof the original conception, but, even while working out his own\ninterpretation, has allowed the thread of his source to run unbroken,\nif not untangled, to the end. And with that thread Feirefis is closely\ninwoven; it is at the critical moment of Parzival's life, when the\nconventional faith in God as the All-wise Ruler of the world, which\nhas been sufficient for his boyhood, fails him, that the hero first\nlearns the existence of his unknown brother, Feirefis Angevin; from\nthat point onward, whenever the story will admit of an allusion to\nFeirefis, either directly, or indirectly through his love Sekundill\u00e9,\nthat allusion is introduced, so that as we draw towards the end of the\npoem the mind is not unprepared for the appearance of Feirefis himself,\nand the combat which is the last, as it is the most desperate, of\nParzival's trials. The breaking of the sword of Ither of Gaheviess, as\nwell as the exceptional nature of the conflict itself, is a distinct\nindication of a special significance attached to the incident, and one\nis not surprised to find that the conclusion of Parzival's probation\nand his election to the Grail kingdom follow closely upon it. It\nis impossible to believe that a personality so strange as that of\nFeirefis, so closely connected with the hero of the poem, and brought\ninto special prominence at the turning-points of his career, means\nnothing at all; and this when we have the contrast between Doubt and\nSteadfastness, Darkness and Light, Black and White directly insisted\nupon.\n\nThe original ethical idea seems to have been simple enough; the sin\nof lack of faith in God, which mars an otherwise steadfast character.\nFeirefis shows, in a concrete form, the contrast sketched in the\nopening lines of Book I., and Parzival's final conflict with his\nparti-coloured brother signified the final victory over Doubt which\nrendered him worthy to win the Grail. The idea of working some such\n_motif_ into the story may very likely have arisen from a wish to\nsupply a better and more adequate reason for Parzival's interview with\nthe Hermit, an episode which, as the _Parzival_ shows, is capable\nof far finer treatment than it has received in any other version.\n(It must not be forgotten that Parzival's passionate outbreak and\ndefiance of God is found nowhere else, and that the duty of trust in\nGod and reliance upon Him in the hour of trouble has been distinctly\npart of his early teaching, and that there too the 'black and white'\ncontrast has been insisted upon.) The idea thus first suggested, the\ncircumstances of a residence in the East, where such a conflict between\nlight and darkness was actually being carried on, determined the form\ninto which it should be cast. It is extremely difficult to understand\nhow _Wolfram_, if he only possessed the Perceval legend in an\nincomplete form, conceived the idea of supplementing it in this special\nmanner; but if _Kiot_ be responsible for the first introduction of the\nreligious idea, as he was of the Angevin, the problem becomes perfectly\neasy, his conception of the struggle in the soul of man was simply a\nreflection of the struggle as he saw it in the world.\n\n(It cannot be too strongly insisted upon, that no princes of the day\nwere more strongly affected by the Crusading spirit, or more closely\nconnected with the East than the Angevin princes; and that to assume\non the part of one of their followers the familiarity with Crusading\nideas which is here ascribed to 'Kiot' is to do little more than state\na commonplace fact of history.)\n\nBut that the idea of the poem has, in a measure, undergone a change,\nand that the _Parzival_ in its present shape owes much to the genius\nof the man who, probably attracted by the ethical turn Kiot had given\nto the story, took it into his own hands, and, remodelling it, sent\nit forth to the world a heritage for all generations, may readily\nbe granted. No careful reader of the poem can fail to feel that the\ninterpretation is a double one; that if there are passages which seem\nto treat of Faith and Doubt only as they affect the position of the\nsoul towards God, there are others which as clearly treat of the same\nquestions as affecting man's relation to his fellow-men; in which faith\nis interpreted in its widest sense as a loyal fulfilment of _all_\nobligations, social as well as religious; and that all this is summed\nup and expressed in the inculcation of loyalty to the dictates of the\nknightly order in their highest form.\n\nOccasionally these two ideas obviously clash, as when in Book IX.\nTrevrezent tells Parzival that the Grail cannot be won by human effort,\nand asks, 'Wilt thou force thy God with thine anger?' and in Book XVI.\npractically takes back his words and admits that this is what Parzival\n_has_ done. The true solution of the puzzle seems to be neither in\ninterpreting the poem exclusively as an allegory of the struggle in the\nsoul of man, nor exclusively as a confession of faith in the knightly\norder as a means of salvation, but rather in admitting that the poem\nsets forth _both_ these views, and that the lines of thought cross and\nrecross and overlie one another according as Wolfram reproduced the\nideas of the older poet, or overlaid them with his own.\n\nAnd if we will believe in the real personality of 'Kiot,' we may find\nthat the religious teaching of the poem gains a new significance;\ndeeply religious it undoubtedly is, full of a profound trust in God,\na deep conviction of the individual relationship existing between the\nsoul and its Maker, and a simple acceptance of the elementary doctrines\nof Christianity, the Trinity, the Incarnation, and Its extension\nthrough the initial Sacrament of Baptism; but with all this there is a\ncomplete absence of ecclesiasticism, and a lack of features familiar to\nus in other works of the day.\n\nIt is very curious that, constantly as Baptism is insisted upon as\nessential to salvation, the equal necessity for the Second Great\nSacrament of the Faith is passed over. It is perfectly true that\nWolfram's knights attend Mass, and that Mass is apparently celebrated\nwith regularity, but here their obligation seems to end; never once do\nwe hear of one of his knights communicating, even Gamuret, when dying,\nthough he receives absolution, does not receive the viaticum (the\naccount of Vivians' death in _Willehalm_ seems to show that elsewhere\nWolfram, in common with other writers of the day, _did_ acknowledge\nthis necessity). Again, though Parzival comes to the Hermit's cell on\nGood Friday, and spends fourteen days in his company, confessing and\nreceiving absolution, we have no mention of the Easter Communion in\nthe German poem, though we have in the French. In Book X. the wounded\nknight, whom Gawain succours, asks to be helped to a _spital_ that his\nwounds may be attended to; in Chr\u00eatien's version he expresses his fear\nof dying unabsolved and uncommunicated, and would seek a Hermit who\nlives near at hand for that purpose. And this difference between the\ntwo versions meets us at every turn; _Chr\u00eatien_ abounds in allusions to\nthe hours of prayer; if he wishes to indicate the time when any special\nevent happens he mentions that it is just after Prime, or between\nTierce and Noon; Perceval says that if he finds his mother he will make\nher a veiled nun, and the mother's counsels in the French poem are\nemphatic on the subject of Perceval's religious duties, which Wolfram\nwholly omits; Chr\u00eatien's characters constantly invoke the saints, which\nWolfram's knights never do; when Parzival is in imminent danger of\ndeath it is to his wife, and not to a patron saint, that he looks for\naid. Wolfram is always a religious poet, but, if we compare his other\nimportant poem the _Willehalm_ with the _Parzival_, we cannot help\nfeeling that the former is decidedly more in harmony with the thought\nof his day, and less curiously '_modern_' in tone than the latter.\nIt is difficult to resist the conviction that some of the special\npeculiarities of the _Parzival_ are due to Wolfram's source quite as\nmuch as to Wolfram himself.\n\nIt is a commonplace of history that one effect of the contact between\nheathen and Christian races brought about by the Crusades was the\nawakening of a spirit of tolerance between the brave men on either\nside. In a day when manly strength and courage were accounted of such\nvalue it was impossible that the existence of such qualities on the\nside of the heathen should not, in the opinion of many, go far to\ncounterbalance their lack of Christianity; and it is certain that\namong those long resident in the East such tolerance eventually led\nto laxity in matters both of faith and practice. It was such laxity\nthat was the ostensible reason for the fall of the Knights Templars.\nIn the case of a poem, which otherwise gives indication of familiarity\nwith Oriental custom and tradition, is it unreasonable to suggest\nthat its peculiarities of religious treatment, its freedom from petty\necclesiastical details, the breadth and tolerance of its views, and\nthe far more human ideal of virtue which it presents, may, at least in\npart, be due to the influence of the Crusading spirit which we know\ndid, on the whole, make in these directions?\n\nTo sum up the entire question, the drift of the internal evidence\nof the _Parzival_ seems to indicate that the author of Wolfram's\nsource was a warm partisan of the House of Anjou, sometime resident\nin the East, familiar with the History of the House whose fortunes\nhe followed, and with much curious Oriental legend, and thoroughly\nimbued with the broader views of life and religion inspired by the\nCrusades. That he wrote his poem _after_ 1172 seems most likely from\nthe connection between England, Anjou, and Ireland noted in Book IX.;\non the other hand, the parallel existing between the early history\nof Henry Fitz-Empress and that of the hero of the _Parzival_ seems\nto show that he intended a compliment to that prince, which would\nfix the year of Henry's death, 1189, as the _terminus ad quem_. The\nprobabilities are that it would be written earlier, before the troubles\nof Henry's later years. What we know of the extent of the Angevin rule\nand influence at that date renders it quite possible for us to believe\nthat the writer was by birth a Proven\u00e7al. That the source of the poem\nbore a strong affinity to the source of Chr\u00eatien's _Conte del Graal_ is\ncertain, and the many Flemish allusions give colour to the supposition\nthat it may have been identical with that source.\n\nIf we grant the correctness of the Angevin allusions to be found in\nthe earlier parts of the poem, we must logically grant that these two\nfirst Books, and as a consequence the latter part of the poem which\nagrees with them, are due to the French source rather than the German\nredaction; that it was Kiot who introduced the characters of Gamuret,\nBelakan\u00e9, Feirefis, and L\u00e4helein; and that to Kiot is due the first\ngerm of the ethical interpretation amplified by Wolfram. It was\nprobably in a great measure owing to the unecclesiastical nature of\nKiot's teaching, and the freedom with which he handled the Grail myth,\nthat his work failed to attain the popularity of Chr\u00eatien's. When the\nGrail legend was once definitely stamped with the traditional-Christian\ncharacter which it finally assumed and retained, the semi-pagan\ncharacter of Kiot's treatment would cause his version to be regarded\nwith disfavour by the monkish compilers of his day. It is probably\nowing to the accident of Maude's first husband having been Emperor of\nGermany that this particular presentment of the story found its way\ninto that country; it may well be that it is, indirectly, to that very\nAngevin element that has for so long perplexed critics that we owe\nits preservation! As regards the Grail problem itself, it therefore\nseems most probable that in Wolfram's _Parzival_ we have no really\nindependent version of the Grail myth, such as may be taken into\nconsideration by scholars when constructing a scientific theory of its\ndevelopment; but simply an interesting specimen of one form which, in\nthe period of its translation from a pagan to a Christian symbol, it\ntemporarily assumed, that form being entirely coloured and determined\nby the personality of the writer.\n\n\nEXCURSUS D\n\nTHE WORKS OF WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH\n\nBesides the _Parzival_, Wolfram's longest and, from every point of\nview, most important work, we possess seven songs belonging to the\nclass known as Tage-or W\u00e4chter-Lieder; thus called because the secret\nlovers, who have indulged their passion during the hours of night, are\nwarned by the call of the watchman from the ramparts of the approach of\nday and of the hour of parting. Though Wolfram made in these songs a\nconcession to the lax morality of his day, the concluding lines of one\nof them clearly show how far superior to such unlawful passion he held\nthe love of wedded wife and husband, such love as he has immortalised\nin Kondwiramur and Parzival. Beside these songs, we have the poems\ndealing with the loves of Sigun\u00e9 and Schionatulander, and classed\ntogether under the name of _Titurel_. Whether these are complete in\nthemselves, and intended to serve as an explanatory addition to the\n_Parzival_, or whether they are fragments of an unfinished poem, does\nnot very clearly appear; in any case they indicate a source identical\nwith that of the _Parzival_.\n\n_Willehalm_, Wolfram's other great epic poem, in nine books, deals\nwith the history of William of Orange, a contemporary of Charlemagne,\nwhose story belongs to this cycle of French Romance. The poem is\nclearly derived from the old French _Chanson de Geste, Aliscans_, and\nis originally founded on the prolonged struggle between the Saracen\nand Christian power in the South of France, a struggle which for\npoetical purposes has been condensed into two battles of Aliscans, or\nAlischanz, in the first of which the Christians are defeated, while in\nthe second they are victorious. Whether this poem, too, is or is not\nunfinished, is a matter of debate among critics; judging from Wolfram's\nmethod in the _Parzival_, the fact that he leaves the fate of his hero\n'Rennewart' in uncertainty, and does not even reveal the secret of his\nparentage and close connection with William's wife, seems to indicate\nthat he did not finish the poem. _Willehalm_ abounds in references to\nthe _Parzival_, and in similar turns of thought and expression, and has\nsome passages of great beauty. The _Titurel_ is also written in a more\nelaborate metre than the other poems, and some doubt has been expressed\nas to which of these two represents Wolfram's latest work. The style of\nboth is more finished than that of the _Parzival_, but they are both\ninferior alike in depth of thought and human interest to this, the\ngreatest work of Germany's greatest medi\u00e6val poet.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n NOTES\n\n\nBOOK X\n\n Hero meets with wounded knight and Chr\u00eatien, who gives all the\n maiden. Is warned of the perils of incidents in corresponding\n the way. sequence.\n\n Meets with a lovely lady, whom he\n woos and is repulsed by her with\n mockery. Is insulted by a squire\n of hideous aspect, and his charger\n is stolen by the wounded knight.\n\n Comes to a river on the further\n side of which is a castle, and\n fights with a knight who is riding\n his own horse. Is entertained by\n the boatman.\n\nIntroduction, lines 1-19. In Book X. the poet returns to Gawain,\ntaking up the story at the point at which he dropped it in Book VIII.\nThe corresponding book in Chr\u00eatien commences very abruptly, making\nno further mention of the challenge between Gawain and Kingrimursel\n(Guigambresil) or of Gawain's search for the Grail (or Lance). It is\ndoubtful whether the passage beginning with line 15 really refers to\ntraditional adventures ascribed to Gawain, and omitted here, or whether\nit is merely introduced in order to soften down the abrupt transition\nfrom the story of Parzival to that of Gawain. From the fact that,\nboth here and in Chr\u00eatien, this incident of Gawain's meeting with the\nwounded knight follows immediately after Parzival's interview with the\nhermit, it seems certain that a similar sequence existed in the source\ncommon to both; on the other hand, in line 804, Wolfram seems to be\nreferring to a definite version of the Gawain episode, which certainly\ndiffered from Chr\u00eatien's. Here, as elsewhere, in the absence of any\n_external_ evidence, it is not possible to speak with certainty.\n\nPage 1, line 5--'_At Schamfanzon he challenged Gawain_.' Cf. Book VIII.\np. 239.\n\nPage 1, line 9--'_The murder, Count Ekun\u00e2t did it_.' Cf. Book VIII. p.\n236 and Book III. p. 99.\n\nPage 4, line 29--'_Kamilla_.' A reference to the _\u00c6neid_ of Heinrich\nvon Veldeck, where Kamilla, the daughter of Turnus, is represented as\ndefending Laurentium against the Trojans, and being slain on the field\nof battle. Cf. Book XII. p. 52.\n\nPage 4, lines 39, 40--'_On her knee she bore a knight_.' This incident\noccurs under exactly the same circumstances in Chr\u00eatien, there, too,\nGawain comes to the rescue of the knight by arousing him from his\nstupor, though the surgery, of which Wolfram gives so curious an\naccount, finds no parallel in the French poem. The reader will not\nfail to notice the likeness between this incident and Parzival's\nmeeting with Sigun\u00e9, in Book III. As will be pointed out later Wolfram\nevidently intended a parallel, or a contrast, between his two heroes.\n\nPage 5, line 63--'_Lischois Giwellius_.' This name, again, seems to be\na misunderstanding of a French original, in Chr\u00eatien the knight is not\nnamed, the passage; '_li Orguelleus de la roce \u00e0 l'estroite voie, qui\ngarde les pors de Galvoie_' in which some critics have found the origin\nof the name, seems rather to refer to the knight overthrown by Gawain\nin Book XII. and named Florand by Wolfram. _Here_ there is a distinct\nidentity between the knight now referred to and him who fights with\nGawain later (p. 20); in Chr\u00eatien the knight who opposes Gawain is the\nnephew of the wounded man, and therefore can scarcely be the guardian\nof the '_bogue de Galvoie_' who overthrows him. Later on Wolfram uses a\nFrench expression to indicate where the knight in question was wounded,\n_Av estroite m\u00e2voi\u00e9_, which distinctly indicates a _ford_ rather than\na _ravine_ as in Chr\u00eatien (translated Perilous Ford, p. 13), and the\nwhole incident, carefully examined, decidedly points to a French\nsource, _other_ than Chr\u00eatien.\n\nPage 5, line 74--'_Spake o'er it spells of healing_.' As all students\nof folk-lore are well aware, a belief in the virtue of certain formula\nof words for the healing of bodily ailments was at one time practically\nuniversal, and indeed, in certain districts, a belief in them exists\nto this day. In vol. ii. of _Grundriss der Germanischen Philologie_\n(part I.), a number of such spells, collected from old German MSS. are\ngiven; among them will be found one for checking the flow of blood, and\nanother for the closing of a wound.\n\nPage 5, line 77--'_Logrois_,' French Logres. In Malory we have Logris,\nwhich has been identified with Loegria, or Saxon Britain.\n\nPage 6, line 90--'_Orgelus\u00e9_.' This name, like Orilus, is a\nmisunderstanding of a French original. Chr\u00eatien calls the lady\n'L'Orguelleuse de Logres,' and it evidently stood so in Wolfram's\nsource. This incident of a knight proffering his services to, and\nriding with, a lady who repays him with mockery, and finds food for\nmirth in his misfortunes, seems to have been a favourite theme with\nmedi\u00e6val writers. Malory gives two such adventures, one of which, that\nof La Cote Male Taile and the damsel Maledisant, is, curiously enough,\nconnected with the Castle _Orgulous_. The adventure as recounted by\nChr\u00eatien closely parallels the German version, but the latter is told\nat greater length, and the lady appears to decidedly more advantage;\nher mockery, though biting, is more in the vein of a courtly lady, and,\nwhat we should not expect to find, there is far more lightness of touch\nand 'malice,' in the French sense of the word, about the German than\nabout the French poet. The little touch on p. 9, lines 192, 193 (If\na woman ye thus behold), is lacking in Chr\u00eatien, and is decidedly in\nkeeping with the dry humour of Wolfram, who, in spite of his respect\nfor women, delights in a sly hit at feminine weaknesses. The very\ncurious adjuration of the old knight, on the same page, 'May He who\nmade salt the sea,' seems, according to Bartsch, to be frequent in old\nFrench literature, '_Qui fit la mer sal\u00e9e_,' but does not occur at all\nin Chr\u00eatien, who here simply has 'Dieu le Souverain P\u00eare.'\n\nPage 10, line 235--'_Malcr\u00e9ature_.' This squire appears in Chr\u00eatien,\nbut is not connected in any way with Kondrie, though it may be noted\nthat the description given of him in the French poem agrees far more\nclosely with Wolfram's description of the Grail Messenger than the\nlatter does with Chr\u00eatien's _Maiden_. Bartsch says that the curious\naccount of this strange people 'rests on Talmudic tradition, and is\nrepeated in many medi\u00e6val writings, Latin, German, and Romance.' In\nWolfram's poem of _Willehalm_ he introduces a strange 'horned' people\nwho come from the banks of the Ganges, and who speak with no human\ntongue. Chr\u00eatien has nothing corresponding to this wild story, nor is\nhis squire named.\n\nPage 12, line 274--'_Anfortas_.' This is the first indication that\nthe lady in whose service Anfortas received his incurable wound was\nOrgelus\u00e9. Cf. Book IX. p. 275. The story is more fully told in Book\nXII. p. 65.\n\nPage 12, line 281--'_I wot well e'en Dame Jeschut\u00e9, etc_.' Cf. Book V.\np. 145.\n\nPage 13, line 311--'_A spital shall stand near by_.' Chr\u00eatien's knight\nwishes to be taken to a _Hermit_ that he may confess and receive the\nsacrament. The incident is a good illustration of the different tone\nof the two poems: Chr\u00eatien's is deeply imbued with the ecclesiasticism\nof his day, and abounds in references to hours of prayer, religious\nservices, and invocation of saints, all of which are lacking in\nWolfram's version, which, nevertheless, is far more thoroughly pervaded\nwith the religious _spirit_.\n\nPage 14, line 349--'_Is it thou, O Urian?_' In Chr\u00eatien the name of the\nknight is Griogoras. Urian appears to be the same name as Friam, which\nwe meet with later on, Book XIII. p. 92. The main outline of his story\nis the same in the French as in the German poet, but there are some\nsignificant points of divergence. In Chr\u00eatien we have no mention of the\ntrial before the king, nor of the death-sentence; Gawain appears to\nhave punished the knight on his own account, and his anger is therefore\nmore intelligible, especially as Chr\u00eatien gives an additional touch\nof ignominy to his punishment, '_les_ Il _mains lii\u00e8s au dos_'; and\nwe hear nothing of the special right of message-bearer, by outraging\nwhich Urian broke 'the peace of the land.' The _incident_ itself is a\ncommon one with medi\u00e6val writers, but it is generally treated lightly,\nand the punishment, as a rule, was a money fine. It seems as if the\nmore serious manner in which the episode is treated by Wolfram were\nto be accounted for by the maiden's official position. Throughout the\npoem there are frequent allusions to the manners, customs, and modes\nof government of his day, and, where Chr\u00eatien seems to give us simply\na world of romance, Wolfram seems to aim at investing his story with\nreality by surrounding it with the atmosphere of the time in which he\nlived.\n\nThe indignation expressed by Orgelus\u00e9 (line 417) is peculiar to\nWolfram's version, and seems somewhat out of keeping with the general\nlaxity of her conduct.\n\nPage 18, line 465--'_Amor and Cupid_.' Amor and Cupid were regarded\nby the poets of the Middle Ages as two separate gods, both being the\nchildren of Venus.\n\nThe fine passage, lines 480-496, is an eloquent exposition of Wolfram's\nbelief in the superiority of lawful love over the mere earthly passion,\ntoo often unlawful, sanctioned, if not encouraged, by the prevailing\nlicence accorded to _Minne-Dienst_. Throughout this poem Wolfram\nis a steadfast upholder of the binding nature of the marriage vow;\nParzival's fidelity to his wife is held to be a virtue sufficient to\ncancel any other sin of which he may be guilty; cf. Book IX. p. 270,\nwhere Trevrezent's words are a sufficient commentary on the rarity\nof such fidelity in those days. At the same time Wolfram accepts the\nprevailing ideal, and it must be noted that it was he, and not a poet\nof laxer principles, such as Gottfried von Strasbourg, who first\nbrought into vogue the _W\u00e4chter-lieder_, the very essence of which is\nthat the love to which they give eloquent voice is an unlawful love,\nand must be indulged in secrecy and under the cover of night.\n\nPage 19, line 506 and _seq._--'_A Castle so fair and stately_.' This is\nCh\u00e2teau Merveil, mentioned by Kondrie, Book VI. p. 181.\n\nPage 22, line 598--'_Gringuljet_.' Chr\u00eatien explains how Lischois\nGiwellius comes to be in possession of Gawain's horse; he is, according\nto the French poet, the nephew of the wounded knight Griogoras, who has\nsent him to attack Gawain, and has given him the horse stolen from that\nhero for the purpose. For the meaning of the name, cf. vol i. Appendix\nB. The previous history of the steed has been alluded to twice, Books\nVII. p. 196 and IX. p. 272. In the latter passage Trevrezent recognises\nParzival's horse, also a Grail steed, by the dove on its saddle, here\nthe badge is branded on the horse itself. The fight between Lischois\nand Gawain is told at much greater length here.\n\nPage 24, line 661--'_This right was his o'er the meadow_.' The tribute\ndue to the Ferryman is also related in Chr\u00eatien, where Gawain evades it\nin the same manner.\n\nPage 26, line 729--'_Klingsor_.' The magician, lord of the Ch\u00e2teau\nMerveil, has not been named before; he is identical with the 'clerk\nwho all magic knew,' cf. Book II. p. 39. Chr\u00eatien has not this\ncharacter at all; the castle, according to him, was built by 'I. _sages\nclers d'astrenomie_,' who came there with King Arthur's mother, but\nthere is no indication that the lady eloped with him, nor does he play\nany part in the story. The origin of the name seems to be uncertain;\nin the poem of the _Wartburg-krieg_, already alluded to (note to Book\nVI.), Klingsor appears as a magician from Hungary, and Simrock thinks\nthat here his name is derived from Klings\u00e6re, a singer or minstrel, and\nthat Wolfram was weaving into his poem an old legend illustrative of\nthe power of song. San Marte derives the name from an old French word\n_clincher_, and thinks it indicative of the sensual character ascribed\nto the magician, and that the character is of French origin. Merlin is,\nof course, the Arthurian magician, and appears as such in Chr\u00eatien's\ncontinuators, but there is no sign of him in the _Parzival_, nor can\nthe incidents related of Klingsor be paralleled in the history of\nMerlin.\n\nPage 27, line 774--'_Ben\u00e9_.' The part assigned to this character\nin Wolfram is important, the maiden does not appear in Chr\u00eatien's\nversion, _here_ she plays an active part as confidant of Itonj\u00e9,\nGawain's sister, in her love affair with King Gramoflanz and acts as\nmessenger between the lovers. Some critics have derived her name from a\nmisunderstanding of Chr\u00eatien's phrase, _que bencois soit votre ostu_,\nspoken by Gawain to the boatman, and, of course, such a phrase _may_\nhave stood in Wolfram's French source, but, as he certainly did not\nborrow the character from Chr\u00eatien, it seems scarcely likely that he\nborrowed the name.\n\nPage 28, lines 785-790--'_Purslain and lettuce_.' The dish was\napparently a kind of salad. Wolfram makes an ingenious use of the\nmention of vinegar to impress upon his readers the folly of speaking\nuntruly, and incidentally shows that the use of rouge was not unknown\nin his day.\n\n[Gawain's adventures with the Proud Lady (Orgelus\u00e9) and at the Castle\nof Wonders form, perhaps, the most confused and perplexing portion of\nthe poem, while they also bear obvious marks of age and of freedom from\nthe Christian symbolism which has so profoundly affected the 'Grail'\nlegend as a whole. 'The Proud Lady' seems to be a composite creation;\nthe characteristics of a courtly lady of the day having been grafted\non to an originally supernatural conception. According to this latter,\nshe was a water-fairy (note that Gawain meets her by the side of a\nspring, Book X. p. 6), mistress of a magic garden, in which are held\ncaptive the mortals whom she incites to a perilous venture, _i.e._ the\ncrossing of the stream which separates this from the other world, and\nthe bringing thence a branch plucked from a tree growing there. This\nadventure is of course only to be achieved by the best knight in the\nworld, the hero, namely, of the episode, and to urge him to it she uses\nevery species of raillery. When the hero has performed the task she\ngladly yields herself his. This incident, in itself a straightforward\nand intelligible one to which many parallels might easily be adduced\nfrom romantic and heroic literature, is, however, crossed and blended\nwith another adventure of the same hero, the achieving the feats of the\nWonder Castle, and thereby overcoming its magician builder.\n\nThe two episodes, originally told each for itself, coalesced owing\nto the personages in each being the same; for the Proud Lady is, I\nbelieve, far more intimately connected with the Wonder Castle than\nappears from Wolfram's poem; I suspect her, indeed, of being the\nmagician's daughter. That the wedding of Gawain with Orgelus\u00e9 should\ntake place in the Ch\u00e2teau Merveil is at present almost the only trace\nremaining of the original connection, but that is decisive. For, as\nwill be pointed out in Note to Book XI., the episode of the Wonder\nCastle must originally have ended in the hero's remaining there; he\nhas won to the other world whence he cannot return, but over which he\nrules, in company with its fair mistress. As it is, the reader cannot\nbut feel that the winning of the Branch is an anti-climax after the\nachievement of the Castle of Wonders.\n\nThe true significance of the Proud Lady's garden has also been obscured\nin our poem; it may possibly at one time have been confused with the\nWonder Castle, and might then be compared with the Garden of Joy\nwhich Merlin created for Ninian; there is indeed a strong temptation\nto compare Merlin and Ninian with Klingsor and Orgelus\u00e9, wide as the\ndifference is between the two stories. But it is more probable that\nthe Magic Garden belongs wholly to the Winning of the Branch feat,\nand that, like the remainder of this episode, it has suffered from\ncontamination with the Wonder Castle story. (In connection with this\nit may be noted that in Chr\u00eatien, Gawain, after crossing the Perilous\nFord, is not to pluck the branch of any one special tree, but to gather\nthe flowers which he sees, '_A ces arbres et \u00e1 ces pr\u00e9s._' The idea of\na _garden_ seems to have been better preserved in the French than in\nthe German poem.)\n\nAnother portion of the original story, the flyting of hero and heroine,\nhas been completely remodelled by the twelfth century poets, in order\nto afford an exemplification of the current ideal of courtly love\nand lady-service; hence the complex character of the heroine, and\nthe confused nature of the episode as related by Wolfram. It would\nbe useless to seek in pre-twelfth century literature for an _exact_\nparallel to a situation so manifestly coloured to suit the prevailing\nsocial ideas of the time; but the episode must have some root in\npreceding literature, the special form of the social relation of man\nto woman which is the most marked feature of twelfth century literary\nart must stand in _some_ relation to the past; and it is in the Irish\nheroic literature of the seventh to the eleventh centuries that we must\nseek for the origin of this feature.\n\nIn this literature we find a remarkable parallel to the whole\nGawain-Orgelus\u00e9 episode. 'The Wooing of Emer' by Cuchulainn is one\nof the most famous stories about the greatest Irish hero. Emer was\nthe daughter of Forgall the Wily, the chief maiden of Ireland in all\nvirtues and qualities, and therefore the only one whom Cuchulainn\ndeemed worthy of him. But she is by no means minded to take him at his\nown estimation; when he recounts his achievements, 'these are goodly\nfights of a tender boy,' says she, nor will she consent to see him\nuntil he perform certain definite feats. Moreover, her father is by no\nmeans anxious that she should marry, and to get rid of the wooer has\nhim sent off with two companions on a perilous expedition to Skye. The\nfirst danger he encountered (I quote textually from the oldest version\nof the story, ascribed by the editor, Professor Kuno Meyer, to the\neighth century) is 'some dreadful beast like a lion, which fought with\nhim, but did him no harm, and the foul play of the youths who laughed\nat him' (_Revue Celtique_, vol. X. 44). Afterwards he has to make\nhis way across the 'plain of ill-luck' on which men freeze, and by a\nnarrow path over a glen, and a 'terrible stony height.' Cuchulainn of\ncourse comes safely through all these and other ventures, and carries\noff Emer, whom he weds. Here, then, we have the contemptuous attitude\nof the wooed maiden, her indication of feats to be performed before\nshe can be won; and before the final marriage a series of incidents\nbearing no small resemblance to those which befall Gawain at the Wonder\nCastle.--ALFRED NUTT.]\n\n\nBOOK XI\n\nTRADITIONAL EVENTS\n\n Gawain, against the advice of the Chr\u00eatien gives the incidents in\n Boatman, visits Ch\u00e2teau Merveil, the same order, but with some\n seats himself on the magic couch, difference in details,\n and is assailed, first by unseen\n adversaries, then by a lion which\n he kills and ends the enchantments\n of the Castle.\n\n(There is a Castle of Wonders in 'Peredur,' but the adventures\nconnected with it are quite different.)\n\nThe entire episode of the Magic Castle and Gawain's adventures therein\nis stamped with a weird, fantastic character, unlike the rest of the\npoem, and gives the effect of a M\u00e4hrchen introduced into the midst of\na knightly epic. More than one critic has pointed out the similarity\nbetween the tasks to be achieved by Gawain, before he becomes lord\nof the castle, and those which, in old folk-tales, fall to the lot\nof those who dare a venture to the shadowy under-world. Some of the\nfeatures in the story, which will be noted as they occur, seem to\ndistinctly indicate that such was the original nature of this episode,\nrelated with so much spirit by the German poet.\n\nPage 34, line 107--'_He who at Nantes slew Prince Ither_.' Cf. Books\nVII. p. 218 and VIII. p. 242, and notes on these passages, where\nWolfram's introduction of the chief hero of the poem, unmentioned\nin Chr\u00eatien's version, is commented upon. Some critics have drawn a\ncontrast between the Ch\u00e2teau Merveil, with its magic lord, and the\nGrail Castle, with its wounded king, which are won respectively by\nthe two heroes of the poem, and have seen in the castle of Klingsor\nthe embodiment of the fleshly principle, opposed to the spiritual\nrealm of the Grail. But Wolfram seems to have intended a _parallel_\nrather than a _contrast_. Klingsor, on the whole, is by no means a\nmalicious character, and of the deadly antagonism between him and\nthe Grail knights, which is the very essence of Wagner's _Parzival_,\nthere is here no trace. If there is a contrast between spirit and\nsense in Wolfram's poem, it is rather to be found between the court\nand knighthood of Monsalv\u00e4sch and that of King Arthur, and the latter\nmonarch certainly embodies the world-principle far more than Klingsor\ndoes. Parzival's failure to ask the question here is quite in keeping\nwith his general character and devotion to a single aim, but the\nintroduction of the incident was doubtless intended to heighten the\nparallel between Monsalv\u00e4sch and Ch\u00e2teau Merveil.\n\nPage 35, line 125--'_Now arm thee for deadly warfare!_' In Chr\u00eatien's\naccount the Boatman plays the same kindly part of adviser, and,\nfurther, accompanies Gawain to the palace and to the hall of the\nLit-Merveil, but, as before noted, the part played by the daughter is\nomitted.\n\nPage 36, line 162--'_A merchant with merchandise costly_.' In Chr\u00eatien\nthis character is an 'Eski\u00e9kier,' rather a money-changer than a\nmerchant. The story of the oath, and how it came to be in the courtyard\nof the castle, is rally related in Book XII. p. 65.\n\nPage 36, line 169--'_The Baruch of Bagdad_.' Cf. Book I. p. 9, and note\non 'Rankulat.' The allusion to the Emperor of Greece shows that this\nwas written after the taking of Constantinople by the Crusaders in 1204.\n\nPage 37, line 185--'_Plippalin\u00f2t_.' The Boatman is unnamed in Chr\u00eatien.\nThe critics give no interpretation of the name.\n\nPage 37, line 201--'_The Lechfeld_.' The Lechfeld is a wide plain\nnear Augsburg between the rivers Werch and Lech, where the Hungarians\nwere defeated in 955 by the Emperor Otho. Naturally, the courtyard of\na castle could not be so large, and it seems probable that Wolfram\nwas commenting humorously on the exaggerated description given in his\nsource. Chr\u00eatien gives much the same account of the castle and its\ngorgeous decorations.\n\nPage 38, line 220--'_The Lit-Merveil_.' Chr\u00eatien gives a more detailed\ndescription of the magic couch: it is of gold, with cords of silver,\nand bells hanging from the interlaced cords. It is apparently the\npeal of these bells, as the knight seats himself upon the couch, that\ngives warning of the intruder, and is the signal for the enchantments\nto begin. In Chr\u00eatien's account the attack by the five hundred unseen\nfoes (Gawain has already been informed by the Boatman that five hundred\nknights guard the castle) follows immediately on the hero taking\nhis seat on the couch, and the onslaught of the lion immediately on\nthe cross-bows, so that the ordeal, as represented by Wolfram, is\nconsiderably more severe and prolonged than in the French version.\n\nPage 40, line 299--'_A mighty lion_.' The encounter with the lion is\nthe same in Chr\u00eatien; there, too, the lion's paw is smitten off by\nGawain, and remains hanging to the shield. The remark in line 312 is\nquite in keeping with Wolfram's dry, quaint humour; such 'asides' are\nlacking throughout in the French poem.\n\nPage 41, line 331--'_Mount Ribbel\u00e9_.' An allusion to Eilhart's\n_Tristan_, where Gymele, Isolde's maid, gives to Kahenis, who should\nkeep watch with her, a magic pillow on which he slumbers throughout the\nnight, and is mocked in consequence.\n\nPage 42, line 340--'_Arniv\u00e9_.' This is Arthur's mother, whose elopement\nwith Klingsor has been mentioned, cf. Book II. p. 39. (Whether Arniv\u00e9\nwent with Klingsor of her own free will, or whether she was constrained\nby magic art, does not clearly appear; from Book II. we should conclude\nthe former, but the passage in Book XIII. pp. 89 and 90, reads as if\nshe were not a free agent.) She has been named as one of the dwellers\nin Ch\u00e2teau Merveil, (Book VI. p. 189); how it was that Arthur, who had\napparently spent some years in the search for his mother (cf. Book II.\np. 39), failed to recognise her name when mentioned before him, is\nnot explained. But the whole episode, as noted above, is so wild and\nfantastic, and so full of difficulties, that it seems most probable\nthat it was not originally connected with the Arthurian legend, and has\nbeen only imperfectly fitted into the framework. In Chr\u00eatien, too, the\nqueen is Arthur's mother, but she is much less prominent in the story,\nindeed from this point onwards the two versions diverge considerably.\nIn Chr\u00eatien, Gawain is by no means seriously wounded; the Boatman, who\nseems to have awaited the issue of the adventure outside the castle,\nreturns promptly and tells him that the enchantments are at an end,\nand Gawain is greeted by a train of pages, gaily dressed and playing\nflutes; and maidens, one of whom bears royal robes. Chr\u00eatien then\nintroduces a very curious and archaic feature, to which Wolfram has no\nparallel; Gawain expresses his desire to leave the castle and hunt in\nthe surrounding forest, but the Boatman tells him this is impossible;\nit is judged and decreed that whoever achieves the venture of the\nCh\u00e2teau Merveil shall never leave the castle, '_Que jamais de cette\nmaison n'istroit u fust tors u raison. Jamais n'istr\u00e9s nul jor_,' at\nwhich Gawain is extremely angry. Nevertheless, he does leave the castle\nand no harm comes of it. The only explanation of this curious feature\nseems to be that this episode, as noted above, found its origin in the\nstory of some hero's visit to the under-world, when his return to the\nworld of the living depends on his fulfilment of certain conditions,\n_e.g._, that he should eat nothing during his stay in the land of\nshadows; Gawain certainly partakes of a meal in the Magic Castle, which\nmeal in Wolfram precedes, though in Chr\u00eatien it follows, his attempt to\nleave Ch\u00e2teau Merveil. Heinzel understands Chr\u00eatien's account of the\narrival of the two elder queens in Terre de Merveil as meaning that\nthey really were dead, and supernaturally revived; (Chr\u00eatien certainly\ndoes say of the elder queen, '_Qui fus mis en ti\u00e8re_,' but as he goes\non to state that she brought all her riches with her into the country\nwhere she came, accompanied by her daughter, it is rather difficult to\nunderstand what he really does mean.) Mr. Nutt remarks, 'I think there\ncan be no doubt that Klingsor's castle is a form of the other world,\nand that its inhabitants cease to live if they return to this world.\nThere is a distinct parallelism in the original form of the legend\nbetween Parzival's winning the Grail Castle and Gawain's winning the\nMagic Castle. On this theory neither, of course, should come back to\nArthur's court; the necessity of bringing them both into contact with\nArthur again has obscured the significance of the story.'\n\nPage 43, line 370--'_Ilinot the Breton_.' Arthur's son, alluded to in\nBook VII. p. 217, and note (which also explains the allusion to 'the\nmystic beasts' which seem to have been the badge of the royal Breton\nhouse). Ilinot's history is told at some length in Book XII. p. 50.\n\nPage 44, line 422--'_Dictam, the herb of healing_.' San Marte says that\nthis herb is mentioned by Cicero, Virgil, and Pliny, as possessing the\npower of drawing arrow-shafts from a wound. Wolfram, also, attributed\nthis virtue to it, as he distinctly states in _Willehalm_, where he\ngives an account of his hero's wounds being dressed by his wife.\n\nThe allusion to Kondrie should be noted; it is another instance of the\nskill with which Wolfram connects all the threads of his story, and\nnever loses sight of his main point.\n\n\nBOOK XII\n\nTRADITIONAL EVENTS\n\n Gawain overthrows a knight whom Chr\u00eatien.\n the Lady of Logrois brings to\n fight with him; crosses the\n Perilous Ford, and is challenged\n to single combat by a knight. Is\n rewarded by the love of Orgelus\u00e9,\n and returns in triumph to Ch\u00e2teau\n Merveil.\n\nPage 49, lines 5-18--'_Launcelot on the sword-bridge battled_.' This\npassage to line 18 contains numerous allusions to the knightly tales of\nthe day, some of which have been previously referred to. Launcelot's\nfight with Meljakanz and subsequent freeing of Queen Guinevere is\nmentioned in Book VII. (pp. 205, 219 and Note).\n\nThe story of Garel and the lion is not known to us; he was the hero of\na later poem by Pleier, but this adventure does not appear in it. Garel\nand Gaherjet we find again in Book XIII. p. 96, according to Chr\u00eatien\nthey were Gawain's brothers, but Wolfram seems to regard them merely as\nkinsmen. (The fact that Wolfram knows only _one_ brother, Beau-corps,\nwhereas Chr\u00eatien mentions two, if not three, seems to indicate that he\nwas here following a different source.) '_The Perilous Ford_' we shall\nmeet with presently; and Erec and the venture of Schoie-de-la-kurt have\nbeen alluded to in Book III. pp. 76 and 100, and Note; and Book VIII.\np. 245.\n\nThe allusion to Iwein is taken from Hartmann's poem of that name,\nwhich relates that in the wood Briziljan (Broceliande) there was a\nspring beside which hung a golden basin; if any one drew water from the\nspring in this basin, and poured it upon a stone near by, a violent\nstorm immediately arose which devastated the wood, and slew the game\ntherein. As soon as the tempest was over the lord of the spring\nappeared in full armour and demanded satisfaction for the mischief\ndone. Iwein withstands this venture, slays the knight, and eventually,\nby Lunete's counsel, marries his widow. Cf. Book V. p. 143, and Book\nIX. p. 252.\n\nPage 50, lines 39-64--'_They yielded thee loyal service_,' _etc._\nMazadan, cf. Book I. p. 31 and Book VIII. 230 and Note. Ither of\nGaheviess needs no further notice. Ilinot has already been alluded to,\nBook VII. p. 217 and Book XI. p. 43. This is the first full account\ngiven of this prince, hitherto his fate has only been alluded to; we\nknow nothing of this character, but it is quite evident from such\npassages as these, and Book VI. p. 171, that Wolfram was familiar\nwith Arthurian romances other than those which have come down to us.\nIlinot, being Arthur's son, was of course first cousin to Gawain; the\nrelationship with Parzival is much more distant, and, though Arthur\nspeaks of Parzival as his 'nephew,' the term must be taken in a much\nwider sense than we should now understand it; from Wolfram's own\naccount Parzival cannot have been more than very distantly connected\nwith the House of Pendragon.\n\nGaloes and Gamuret, cf. Book II. pp. 46, 52, and 59.\n\nThe loves of Itonj\u00e9 and Gramoflanz occupy a considerable part of the\nnext two books. Surdamur was Gawain's sister, and married the Emperor\nof Greece, Alexander; their son was Clig\u00e9s, the hero of Chr\u00eatien's\npoem of that name, in the early part of which the tale of their love\nis fully told. (Cf. Note to Book VI. '_Sir Klias_.') None of these\nallusions are to be found in Chr\u00eatien, whose books, as a rule, lack\nintroductory passages; but, as noted in Book XI., from the conclusion\nof the Lit-Merveil incident onwards the two poems diverge widely in\ndetail, though the outline of the story is identical.\n\nPage 52, line 89--'_Arras_.' A town in Picardy, famous in the Middle\nAges for its stuffs.\n\nPage 52, line 97--'_A shining pillar_.' This magic pillar, of which\na full account is given further on (lines 109 and 143), is peculiar\nto Wolfram's version. In Chr\u00eatien we have simply a watch-tower, from\nthe windows of which Gawain can see the country. Later on we find the\ndeadly fight between Parzival and Feirefis mirrored on this pillar, and\nthe news of the encounter conveyed to Arthur's court before the arrival\nof the heroes.\n\nPage 52, line 98--'_The coffin of Kamilla_.' Cf. Book X. p. 4 and Note.\nHeinrich von Veldeck gives a minute account of this coffin.\n\nPage 52, line 101--'_Master Geometras_.' It is curious to find geometry\nthus personified. The same mistake has apparently been made by Heinrich\nvon Veldeck, who makes Geometras the designer of Kamilla's coffin.\n\nPage 53, line 119--'_Came the ag\u00e8d queen Arniv\u00e9_.' According to\nChr\u00eatien there are two queens, mother and daughter, and a maiden,\ndaughter to the younger queen, who is named Clarissant. Gawain's\nmother he does not name at all, the old queen has her original name of\nYguerne. In Chr\u00eatien the elder lady asks Gawain at once if he is one\nof King Arthur's knights, and questions him closely as to King Arthur,\nKing Lot, and the sons of the latter; but apparently Gawain's curiosity\nis in no way aroused, and he makes no attempt to learn who the ladies\nare, though he makes a compact with the old queen that she shall not\nask _his_ name for seven days. The account, so humorously given by\nWolfram of Arniv\u00e9's curiosity and unavailing attempts to discover\nGawain's identity, is lacking in the French poet. It is difficult to\nunderstand how it is that _Gawain_ has no suspicion of the real facts\nof the case till enlightened by Gramoflanz, but, as remarked above, the\nwhole episode is mysterious and perplexing.\n\nPage 54, line 174--'_The Turkowit_.' This seems to be the name for a\nlightly-armed soldier, an archer. This particular knight, we learn\nlater, was captain of Orgelus\u00e9's night-watch, or body-guard; his name\nwas Florand of Itolac; and he subsequently marries Sangiv\u00e9, Gawain's\nmother.\n\nPage 58, line 282--'_Tamris and Prisein_.' Tamris-Tamarisk, has been\nmentioned in Book VIII. (p. 242 and Note). Prisein has not been\nidentified, Bartsch suggests Proven\u00e7al _Bresil_.\n\nPage 58, 294--'_The Perilous Ford_.' Wolfram's expression here is\n'_Ligweiz prelljus_,' evidently the French '_Li guex perelleus_.'\nChr\u00eatien's description of the episode is much the same, but he\nrepresents Gawain as being well acquainted with the character of this\nventure, and of the fame that will accrue to the knight who achieves\nit. In the French poem there does not appear to be one tree in especial\nguarded by Guiromelans, but Gawain is bidden '_Quellir de ces flours\nque ve\u00e9s. A ces arbres et a ces pr\u00e9s._'\n\nPage 60, line 332--'_King Gramoflanz_.' This character has been\nalready referred to in Book IX. p. 258. In Chr\u00eatien he is called Le\nGuiromelans, and Wolfram's name for him is undoubtedly derived from\nsome such original (cf. Appendix B, vol. i.). The account of his\nmeeting with Gawain differs in many respects in the French version;\nthere his quarrel with Gawain seems to be much more of a personal\nmatter, not only has King Lot slain his father, as here, but Gawain\nhimself has slain seven of his kinsmen. Chr\u00eatien's description of the\nking's dress and appearance is far less gorgeous than is Wolfram's.\n\nPage 60, line 340--'_Sinzester_.' Bartsch suggests that _Winchester_ is\nhere meant. In Book VI. we find Kondrie wearing a hat with plumes of\n'the English peacock.'\n\nPage 60, line 353--'_Eidegast_.' Cf. Book II. p. 39 and Note on '_The\nTourney_.' In Chr\u00eatien Orgelus\u00e9's lover is not named but he has been\nslain by Guiromelans, and, as here, it is her desire for vengeance\nthat has led her to urge Gawain to the venture; but in the French\npoem Orgelus\u00e9 is a much less imposing personage, and her attempts at\nvengeance are of a less organised character.\n\nPage 61, line 374--'_Yet alas! I have ne'er beheld her_.' Such\ninstances of a knight vowing himself to the service of a lady whom\nhe had never seen were by no means rare in medi\u00e6val times. (Cf. the\nwell-known story of Rudel and the Lady of Tripoli.) In Chr\u00eatien,\nalso, Guiromelans is the lover of Gawain's sister, whose name there\nis Clarissant. In the French poem Guiromelans gives a full history of\nall the queens, here he only states the identity of Itonj\u00e9, and Gawain\napparently takes the rest for granted.\n\nPage 62, line 419--'_L\u00f6ver_.' This name has been mentioned in Book IV.\np. 121. The derivation is uncertain, but in each instance Arthur's\nkingdom, as a whole, seems to be meant. The curious name 'Bems by the\nKorka' has exercised critics much; Chr\u00eatien has '_A Pentecouste est\nla cors le roi Artu en Orcanie_,' and _Korka_ is evidently a form of\nOrcanie. Some have suggested that 'Bems bei' is a misunderstanding of\nPentecouste (couste = _c\u00f4te_), but the derivation seems far-fetched and\nunsatisfactory; all that can be said with certainty is that the name\npoints to a French source.\n\nPage 62, line 425--'_Rosche Sabbin_.' This also seems to be derived\nfrom the French; Chr\u00eatien calls the castle 'Roche de Sanguin,' and\nWolfram seems to have transferred the name to Gramoflanz' kingdom.\n\nPage 64, line 471--'_True as the one-horned marvel_.' Cf. Book IX. p.\n277, where the story of the Unicorn's love for a pure maiden is given.\nWe learn from this passage that advantage was taken of its slumber to\nslay it.\n\nPage 65, line 511--'_For the winning his death_.' Here we have a full\nexplanation of the connection between Orgelus\u00e9 and Anfortas. The\ntent given to the Lady of Logrois by Anfortas was, we learn from the\n_Willehalm_ (which abounds in allusions to the _Parzival_), sent to\nthat monarch by Queen Sekundill\u00e9 as a love-token.\n\nPage 66, line 547--'_And never a man beheld me_.' This account of\nOrgelus\u00e9's bargain with the knights who fought for her, and her\nrelations with Parzival and Gawain, throws a most curious light on the\nconventionalities of the day. It is quite evident that Orgelus\u00e9 in no\nway transgressed against the code of manners then prevailing, she is\nthroughout treated as a great lady, and is well received at Court.\n\nThough this is the only episode of the kind recounted, it is quite\nclear from Books XIV. pp. 130-131 and XVI. 173 that Orgelus\u00e9 was\nnot the only lady who had proffered her love to Parzival and been\nrefused. (Those familiar with Wagner's _Parzival_ will not need to\nhave it pointed out to them what fine dramatic use he has made of the\nfact that it is Anfortas' love, and the indirect cause of his wound,\nwho thus offers herself to Parzival. With wonderful skill Wagner has\ncombined the characters of Kondrie and Orgelus\u00e9, thereby, in some ways,\nassimilating Kondrie more closely to the original form of the legend.)\n\nPage 69, line 625--'_The Swallow_.' Bartsch says that this was an\nEnglish harp, so called from the fact that the lower part of the frame\nwas shaped like the fork of a swallow's tail.\n\nPage 69, line 639--'_The Buhurd_.' Cf. Book II. Note on '_The\nTourney_.' There is no trace of this formal knightly reception in\nChr\u00eatien,--there the old queen receives them seated outside the castle,\nand the maidens dance and sing around them.\n\n\nBOOK XIII\n\nTRADITIONAL EVENTS\n\n Feast at the Ch\u00e2teau Merveil; Chr\u00eatien, whose poem ends abruptly\n Gawain persuades his sister to in the middle of a line.\n confide her love-story to him.\n\n Arrival of Gawain's messenger at\n the Court of King Arthur.\n\n(From this point onwards there is no resemblance between Wolfram's poem\nand any other known Romance of the Grail-cycle.)\n\nPage 74, line 39--'_One lived of yore named Sarant_.' Cf. note to Book\nI. '_Silk of Orient_.' Bartsch identifies the name of the skilful\nweaver with that of an Asiatic people, probably the Chinese. Thasm\u00e9\nis named later on as part of Feirefis' kingdom. His battle-cry is\n'Tabronit and Thasm\u00e9!' '_Akraton_,' cf. Book VIII. p. 230.\n\nPage 75, line 66--'_Itonj\u00e9_.' This is the French name 'Idonie.' In\nChr\u00eatien the maiden is named Clarissant, and Gawain wins her confidence\nin the same manner. Chr\u00eatien's share of the _Conte_ ends so abruptly\nthat we cannot tell how he intended to treat her love-story; here, it\nplays a considerable part in the development of the poem.\n\nPage 77, line 147--'_Now the hour it was come_.' The account of the\nfeast here given is very interesting from the light it throws on\nmedi\u00e6val manners and customs. In those days it was very usual for\ntwo to eat from one plate, in fact, this was one of the rules of the\nKnights Templars; the reason assigned being that one brother might\ncare for the other, and all share alike (cf. Feast at Monsalv\u00e4sch,\nBook V. p. 136). On great occasions the principal guests seem to have\nhad ladies assigned to them as their table companions (cf. Book VI. p.\n178). One would gather from this passage, and that in Book VI., that\nthe lady of highest rank had the hostess for companion, thus we find\nArniv\u00e9 eating with Orgelus\u00e9, and Guinevere having a queen (probably\nEkuba) for companion; while Kunnewaare is Arthur's table-mate, as here\nItonj\u00e9 is Gawain's.\n\nPage 78, line 180--'_Ne'er was it night in her presence_.' Cf. Book II.\np. 48.\n\nPage 79, line 194--'_Thuringia_.' San Marte remarks on this passage\nthat at this period music and song invariably went together, the one\nwas necessary to the complete understanding of the other; separately,\nthey were unintelligible. In many instances the lyrical poems of the\nday were wedded to dance music, the flowing graceful rhythm of which\nmade it an appropriate vehicle for the illustration of poetry. The\nThuringian Court being the centre of the literary life of the time many\nof these dances would naturally originate there; though it must not be\nsupposed that dances _without_ the accompaniment of song were not also\nknown.\n\nPage 81, line 262--'_Kancor, and Th\u00e8bit, and Trebuchet_.' San Marte\nsays that Th\u00e8bit is Thabet Ben Korka, a famous Arabic physician,\nmathematician, and philosopher of the ninth century. Kancor is probably\nKenkeh, an astronomer and physician of the same period. Trebuchet has\nbeen mentioned before. Cf. Book V. p. 144 and Note.\n\nPage 81, 279--'_'Twas yet in the early morning_.' Chr\u00eatien gives no\naccount of the delivery of the squire's message, but simply states\nthat he finds Arthur and his knights plunged in grief at the prolonged\nabsence of Gawain, and then breaks off abruptly in the middle of a\nsentence before they have learnt of his safety. From this point onward\nWolfram's version is entirely independent of the _Conte del Graal_,\nbut his poem shows no dislocation or contradiction, such as one would\nexpect would have been the case had he been following a source that\nsuddenly failed him; on the contrary, there is a far more complete\nharmony between all the parts of Wolfram's poem than we find in any\nother Romance of the cycle.\n\nPage 82, lines 301-10--'_Meljanz de Lys_.' Cf. Book VIII. p. 239,\nand Introduction to Book X. and Note. If there was no account of\nGawain's intermediate adventures Wolfram is evidently anxious to make\nhis hearers believe in the existence of such a record, by means of\nwell-timed and appropriate allusions. The fact that the combat was to\nbe in the presence of Meljanz de Lys is only casually mentioned in Book\nVIII. For the allusions to Kunnewaare, Jeschut\u00e9, and Ekuba cf. closing\npages of Book VI. with the account of the dispersal of the company at\nPlimiz\u00f6l. The whole passage is a proof of the care with which the poem\nhas been constructed, and the details brought into harmony with each\nother.\n\nPage 83, line 339--'_Brought he news of some gallant venture?_' Cf.\nBook VI. p. 176 and Note.\n\nPage 87-88, lines 466-506--'_His doings, Sir Knight, I to thee will\ntell_.' This history of the magician Klingsor, as noted in Book X.,\nis found in Wolfram only, and the indications seem to point to a\n_French_ source. Terre de Lab\u00fbr is undoubtedly a French rendering\nof Terra di Lavoro, in Calabria. Kalot Enbolot is Kalota-Belota, a\nfortress on the south-eastern coast of Sicily, well known in the\ndays of the Hohenstauffen. This location of Klingsor's kingdom in\nSouthern Italy may have been introduced in order to lend a colour to\nhis supposed relationship to Virgil, who by the twelfth century was\nfirmly established in popular belief as a magician. The name Iblis,\nBartsch refers to the Sicilian town Hybla; Ibert may be a form of the\nFrench Guibert. It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that in the\nlord of the Ch\u00e2teau Merveil, wounded as a punishment of unlawful love,\nwe have a parallel to the King of Monsalv\u00e4sch, whose wound is due to a\nsimilar cause. (A reference to the original German will show how close\nthis resemblance is); as mentioned before, it seems to be a parallel,\nrather than a contrast, which Wolfram intended to draw between his\ntwo heroes. It may well be that in the original version of the story\nfrom which both Chr\u00eatien's and Wolfram's poems are derived the Gawain\nepisodes were unfinished, and that in their original form Gawain, too,\nwas brought to the Grail Castle, but to regard them as unfinished\n_here_ seems a clear misunderstanding of the meaning of the poem. We\nare distinctly given to understand (p. 97, line 780) that Gawain's lot\nin life is finally settled, the Grail Quest, which was originally in\nthe Gawain story, has been quietly dropped, and this adventure of the\nCh\u00e2teau Merveil has taken its place; an alteration which artistically\ncan only be considered an improvement, as it clearly marks Gawain's\nposition as secondary to Parzival. Whether the story of Klingsor\nwas introduced for the purpose of emphasizing the parallel between\nMonsalv\u00e4sch and Ch\u00e2teau Merveil it is difficult to say. Certainly, the\nincident of Parzival's missing the adventure of the Magic Castle, as\nhe did that of Monsalv\u00e4sch, by failing to ask the question must, as\nnoted above, be due to this idea. With the end of this book Gawain's\nadventures are practically concluded; Wolfram promptly clears the\nstage for the winding-up of the history of his real hero, Parzival,\nby bringing the two knights into contact, when Gawain is naturally\nworsted, and takes the second place. Whether it be due to Wolfram or\nto his source, it is certain that the _Parzival_ is far simpler in\nconstruction than the majority of the Grail Romances, in which the\nadventures of various heroes succeed each other with such bewildering\nrapidity and similarity of incident that it is difficult to tell who is\nthe real hero of the tale!\n\nPage 89, line 519--'_A child was born of a mother_.' A well-known\nmedi\u00e6val riddle, which Wolfram might easily have derived from a German\nsource.\n\nPage 90, line 531--'_Of joy had I once full measure_.' It is somewhat\ncurious that in Chr\u00eatien Gawain eulogizes _Guinevere_ in similar terms.\nIt rather looks as if the original passage had been the same in both\ninstances, though it would be difficult to tell to which queen it\noriginally referred.\n\nPage 91, line 566--'_Maurin_.' This name occurs in the _Lancelot_ of\nUlrich von Zatzikhoven, from which it was probably borrowed.\n\nPage 92, line 601 _and seq._--'_And either side had suffered_.' Garel\nand Gaherjet: cf. Note to Book XII. Iofreit, son of Idol: cf. Book V.\np. 155 and Note. Though this character only plays an unimportant part\nin the poem, he is yet very frequently mentioned, it may be that in the\noriginal French source he was more prominent. Friam is probably the\nsame name as Urian, in Book X. Vermandois and Nevers point to a French\norigin.\n\nPage 94, line 658--'_Save the tent of Eisenhart only_.' Cf. Book I. p.\n16 and Note. Tents seem to have been favourite love-gifts at this time,\nnote the Booth in Books XI. and XII. given by Anfortas to Orgelus\u00e9,\nand, as we know from _Willehalm_, sent to that king in the first\ninstance by Sekundill\u00e9.\n\nPage 96, line 733--'_Meljanz of Lys_.' How Meljanz of Lys came to be\nthere is not explained. It is worthy of note that in Book VII. we find\nthe King of Lirivoin fighting against Meljanz, and taken captive by\nParzival; _here_ the men of Lirivoin are evidently on the same side.\n\nPage 97, line 763--'_The wounds of Kay had been healed_.' Cf. Book VI.\np. 169 and Note to Book III.\n\nPage 99. line 819--'_A knight his bridle drew_.' This knight is, of\ncourse, Parzival, though how he came to be there is not explained. In\nthe _Conte del Graal_ Perceval does not appear on the scene for some\ntime, and passes through a variety of wild and fantastic adventures\nbefore finally winning the Grail. The poem, as we possess it, is more\nthan twice as long as Wolfram's.\n\n[With reference to the Klingsor and Iblis story, it is noteworthy that\nChr\u00eatien's first continuator relates a long story of King Carduel of\nNantes and his reputed son Carados. The wife of King Carduel is beloved\nby a magician, Garahiet, who is in truth the father of Carados. The\nlatter grows to manhood and goes to King Arthur's court to receive\nknighthood, there a stranger knight appears and offers to allow his\nhead to be cut off provided the knight who accepts the challenge will\nsubmit to the same ordeal a year later. Carados accepts, and strikes\noff the head of the knight who picks it up and walks off. Returning\nafter a year he finds Carados ready to fulfil his part of the bargain,\nand then acquaints him with the fact that he, and not Carduel, is in\ntruth his father. Carados returns to the court of Carduel and tells him\nwhat he has learnt from the magician; the king in anger imprisons his\nwife in a tower; she is nevertheless still visited by her lover, whom\nthe king eventually surprises and punishes in a manner appropriate to\nhis crime. This story, in its outline, appears to be the basis of the\nKlingsor and Iblis episode, but it has been very freely handled by the\ncompiler, and, as suggested above, not improbably altered so as to draw\nout the parallel between Klingsor and Anfortas.\n\nA feature of importance in this connection is that the episode of\nCarados and his magician father, a most famous story of the Arthurian\ncycle, is elsewhere invariably associated with _Gawain_; _e.g._ in the\nwell-known Middle-English poem of 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,'\nand it is difficult to understand why, in a part of the poem specially\ndevoted to the adventures of this knight, the French poet should have\nattributed this, one of his greatest and most famous feats, to another\nhero.\n\nHere again we find a parallel in Irish literature; in the 'Fled\nBricrend,' Bricriu's feast, the feat by which Cuchulainn establishes\nhis claim to be regarded as the chief Ulster hero is precisely this\none; though the French poem in making the magician the father of the\nhero seems to have retained an archaic trait which has disappeared\nfrom the, in point of redaction, centuries older Irish story. But from\nother Irish stories we know that Cuchulainn was the son of a god who is\nsometimes represented as carrying off the mortal mother to his fairy\nhome, sometimes as visiting her in animal shape.\n\nThe foregoing facts warrant, I think, the conclusion that Gawain\noriginally occupied in the Brythonic hero-saga of Arthur much the same\nposition as Cuchulainn in the Goidelic hero-saga of Conchobor, both\nbeing par excellence _the_ adventurous hero. Both, too, it should be\nnoted, are sister's son to the king of the cycle; the same position\nbeing occupied by Diarmaid, _the_ adventurous hero of the Finn or\nOssianic cycle.\n\nThe nature of the connection between these cycles of romantic legend\ncannot be dealt with here. It is sufficient to show that in the French\nArthurian poems of the twelfth century (which in one form or another\nundoubtedly form the basis of the _Parzival_) we have piecings together\nof originally disconnected narratives about separate heroes, many of\nwhich are found in more archaic form in the stories told of the Irish\nhero Cuchulainn and his compeers. In the process of piecing together,\nadjusting to the genealogical requirements of the cycle and to the\nsocial conceptions and literary modes of the twelfth century, the early\nCeltic narratives suffered sadly as far as order and significance are\nconcerned, though gaining immensely in other respects. The changes are\nof course greatest where such far-reaching new ideas as the symbolical\nrepresentation of Christian doctrine, or the exemplification of\nlady-service, affect the original narrative.--ALFRED NUTT.]\n\n\nBOOK XIV\n\nPage 103, line 13--'_From Monsalv\u00e4sch they came, the chargers_.'\nThis fact that both Parzival and Gawain are riding Grail steeds is\nconstantly insisted upon by Wolfram, and may be intended to emphasise\nthe parallel obviously drawn between the two heroes. It does not seem\nvery clear why Gawain, who here has nothing to do with Monsalv\u00e4sch,\nshould ride a Grail steed; if Wolfram took over the fact from his\nFrench source it may, perhaps, be a survival of Gawain's original\nconnection with the Grail Castle, which, as noted above, has been\ndropped out of the German poem. The history of Gawain's charger has\nbeen told more than once, cf. Book VII. p. 196 and Book IX. p. 272.\nParzival's horse is, of course, the one ridden by the Grail knight, cf.\nBook IX. p. 258.\n\nPage 104, line 38--'_Poinzacleins_.' Bartsch considers that the name\nof this river points to a French source, and indicates the sloping\nnature of its banks, the old French word for which would be _aclins_,\nProven\u00e7al _aclis_.\n\nPage 105, line 52--'_Punt, the water-locked city_.' _Punt_ = _pont_ =\nbridge; German _Br\u00fccke_ or _Br\u00fcgge_. The name of this town is decidedly\nsuggestive of _Bruges_, and considering the fact that Chr\u00eatien\nconfessedly derived his version of the story from a book given to him\nby the Count of Flanders, the frequent allusions throughout the poem to\nmen of 'Punturtois' should not be ignored.\n\nPage 105, line 57--'_Count Bernard of Riviers_.' A name of undoubtedly\nFrench origin. His father, Count Narant, has been mentioned in Book IV.\np. 119. Uckerland is probably a misunderstanding for Outre-land.\n\nPage 105, line 74--'_Ecidemon-woven_.' This is a curious passage, as\nwe are distinctly told in Book XV. p. 136 that Ecidemon is an animal;\nand as such it is named in Book IX. p. 276 among the list of poisonous\nserpents. As we hear in Book XV. p. 136 that _Salamanders_ wove the\nrobe of Feirefis it is possible that the same power was ascribed to the\nEcidemon. But the passage is somewhat ambiguous, and _here_ a country,\nand not an animal, may be meant.\n\nPage 107, line 127 _and seq._--'_Killicrates_.' This name is of\ndistinctly Greek origin. We find in Book XV. p. 154 that he was King\nof Centrium (which Bartsch identifies with the land of the Centaurs),\nand one of the princes conquered by Feirefis. In the same list of names\nwe find Kalomedent\u00e9 and Ipopotiticon; according to Bartsch the former\nname is a compound of K\u00e1lamos, and signifies Reed-land; the latter\nhe suggests may be a variation of Hyperponticon, the land beyond the\nPontus. Agatyrsjent\u00e9 may perhaps be the same as Assigarziont\u00e9 mentioned\nin Book XV. p. 136, as famous for its silks. '_Akraton_,' cf. Book\nVIII. p. 230.\n\nPage 108, line 150--'_He cast from his hand his weapon_.' It is worth\nremarking how strongly Wolfram insists on this tie of brotherhood,\nboth of arms, as here, and of blood, as in Book XV. To fight with one\nclosely related by friendship, or one near of kin, is in his eyes a\nsin against one's _self_, one's own personality. Other writers of the\ncycle do not seem to consider such a combat, provided it were not to\ndeath, in so serious a light. The etiquette connected with the naming\nthemselves by the knights should be noted; it was the right of the\nvictor to demand the name of the vanquished. Here, Parzival has heard\nGawain's name from the pages, and therefore makes no objection to\nrevealing himself; in the next Book when Feirefis asks his name he\nrefuses to give it, the combat between them is practically undecided,\nand he will not admit Feirefis's right to put the question. That\nFeirefis names himself is an act of courtesy on his part. This\nunwillingness to name themselves was probably originally connected with\nthe idea of the identity of _name_ and _person_--once so universal; to\nthis day the superstition that it is unlucky to mention the name of a\nperson exists among certain races, and circumlocution and nicknames are\nemployed to avoid the necessity for disclosing the real appellation of\nthe individual referred to.\n\nPage 110, line 237--'_In wrath spake the lips of Ben\u00e9_.' We have\nalready been told in Book X. p. 24, that the Ferryman, Ben\u00e9's father,\nwas of knightly birth, but it seems strange to find her addressing so\npowerful a monarch as King Gramoflanz in such discourteous terms. As\nnoted before, the character of Ben\u00e9 and the part she plays are peculiar\nto Wolfram's version, and difficult of explanation.\n\nPage 113, line 325--'_Yet, Sire, when I saw thee last_.' Cf. Book VI.\np. 179, and Book XV. p. 158. Nevertheless, the other knights do not\nseem in any way to have held Parzival as really dishonoured; they\nreceive and welcome him as one of their body, though he has _not_ won\nthe Grail, nor, so far, apparently expiated his sin in failing to put\nthe question.\n\nPage 114, line 339--'_He should eat without on the meadow_.' Cf. Book\nV. p. 154.\n\nPage 115, line 402--'_Did women with wealth o'erburdened_,' _etc._ That\ngifts of armour and warlike trappings were usual on the part of the\nlady is evident from many passages, cf. Book II. p. 47 and Book XV. pp.\n139, 147, 155.\n\nPage 117, line 460--'_Affinamus of Clitiers_.' This knight has not been\nnamed before. The same name occurs in the list of princes overcome by\nFeirefis, Book XV. p. 154, but it is evidently a different individual.\nBartsch suggests that the name is of Greek origin, Clitiers being\nderived from Clitorium.\n\nPage 117, line 467--'_Then out spake King Lot's son gaily_.' Cf. p.\n110, line 225.\n\nPage 120, line 543--'_Thy sister Surdamur_.' Cf. Note to Book XII.\n\nPage 121, line 587--'_Now greeting to whom I owe greeting_.' Bartsch\nremarks that this love-letter and that addressed by Anflis\u00e9 to Gamuret,\nBook II. p. 44, are specially interesting as being almost the oldest\nspecimens of love-letters in German literature.\n\nPage 124, line 675--'_Beau-corps_.' Cf. Book VI. p. 183. From the\npassage on p. 114 it would seem as if Gawain had other brothers, as\nin most stories of the cycle he has, but Wolfram mentions none but\nBeau-corps.\n\nPage 129, line 830 _and seq._--'_Arthur gave maid Itonj\u00e9_.' It has\nbeen suggested that here Wolfram is indulging in sly mockery at the\nmany weddings which, as a rule, wound up the medi\u00e6val romances. In the\noriginal tales the whole character of King Arthur and his court was\nfar less stamped with the rigid morality we have learned to associate\nwith them, and the somewhat indiscriminate promotion of love-affairs\nand marriages (cf. Book XV. p. 157) is quite in keeping with what we\nelsewhere read of the king. (See note to Book X. p. 204, for Mr. Nutt's\nremarks on the marriage of Gawain being celebrated at the Ch\u00e2teau\nMerveil, instead of at court.)\n\nPage 130, line 869--'_But Parzival, he bethought him_,' _etc._ It\ncannot be too strongly insisted upon that this presentment of Parzival\nas a married man, and absolutely faithful to his wife is quite peculiar\nto Wolfram's version of the story. Whether it is _entirely_ due to\nthe German poet we cannot now tell, but we meet with such constant\ninstances of Wolfram's sense of the sanctity of the marriage vow, and\nthe superiority of lawful, over unlawful, love, it seems most probable\nthat it is to his genius we owe this, the most beautiful feature of\nthe story. There is nothing answering to it either in Chr\u00eatien or his\ncontinuators, although in Gerbert the hero's successive failures are\ndeclared to be due to his forsaking Blanchefleur.\n\n\nBOOK XV\n\nPage 135, line 22--'_His armour a knight displayed_.' The riches of\nFeirefis and his costly raiment are dwelt upon at such length that one\nsuspects that the aim of the poet was to exalt the importance of the\nHouse of Anjou; of which Feirefis, rather than Parzival, must here be\nconsidered the representative.\n\nPage 136, line 31--'_Agremontein_.' Cf. Book IX. p. 284.\n\nPage 136, line 42--'_Thopedissimont\u00e9_,' _etc._ This place has not been\nnamed before, and critics have not identified it with any known name.\nAssigarziont\u00e9 may, as suggested in Note to Book XIV., be the same as\nAgatyrsjent\u00e9. Thasm\u00e9 we already know, Book XIII. p. 74 and Note.\n\nPage 137, line 59--'_Parzival rode not lonely_.' The expression of an\nidea which seems to be a favourite one with Wolfram, cf. Book V. p. 139\nand Book VIII. 242.\n\nPage 137, line 81--'_As the lion-cub_,' _etc._ This fable, a belief in\nwhich was general in the Middle Ages, is also mentioned by Wolfram in\nhis _Willehalm_.\n\nPage 139, line 120--'_My brother and I are one body_,' _etc._ As\nremarked before, Wolfram has an extremely high idea of the binding\nnature of family relationships, cf. Book III. p. 97 and further on p.\n145.\n\nPage 139, line 121--'_Asbestos_.' Cf. Book IX. p. 281.\n\nPage 139, line 138--'Kaukasus.' It is rather curious to find Sekundill\u00e9\nassociated with Kaukasus, as we are elsewhere told that she was queen\nof Tribalibot, _i.e._ India. In Book X. p. 11 we are told that she\nhad golden mountains in her kingdom, which may have suggested the\nconnection.\n\nPage 140, line 155--'_And the other, the precious jewels_,' _etc._ It\nhas already been remarked (Note to Book IX.) that the attribution of\nstrengthening virtue to precious stones, and the prominence given to\nthem throughout the poem, is a special feature of the _Parzival_. In\nthe next book we meet with a remarkable instance of this peculiarity.\n\nPage 140, line 161--'_Kardeiss and Lohengrin_.' This is the first\nintimation we have of the existence of Parzival's sons; from Kondrie's\nspeech on p. 159, he seems himself to have been unaware of their birth.\nWe hear of Parzival sending the knights conquered by him to yield\nthemselves captives to Kondwiramur (Book VII. p. 220 and Book VIII.\np. 243), and she, therefore, would be in some degree aware of her\nhusband's movements during the five years of separation; but we have\nno indication of his having received any message from her; and from\nthe wandering life he led during these years (cf. Introduction to Book\nIX.), and the fact that he had no squire in attendance who could act as\ngo-between, it seems most probable that Parzival heard nothing of his\nwife throughout the entire time--a fact which makes his fidelity to her\neven more striking. _Kardeiss_ was doubtless named after his mother's\nbrother, whose death is referred to in Book VI. p. 167. _Lohengrin_,\nor as the name stands in the original, with an additional syllable,\n_Loherangrin_, has been derived from _Lothringen_, the German form\nLorraine. If so, this may indicate the source of the story of the\nSwan-knight, which did not, of course, originally belong to the Grail\nlegend.\n\nPage 140, line 170--'_Pelrap\u00e4r!_' seq. It is very curious that though\nWolfram emphasizes the fact (p. 139) that Parzival had regained his\nfaith in God, yet it is not this faith which stands him in good stead\nin the hour of his greatest peril; neither is it his devotion to the\nGrail; but it is his loyal love for, and fidelity to, his wife that\nproves his salvation. If the aim of the poem were, as some critics\ncontend, a purely religious one, then we should surely find that at\nthe crucial moment of the hero's career religion, and not _Love_,\nwould be the saving power. As it is, Parzival's words to Gawain, Book\nVI. p. 188, are abundantly borne out, and it _is_ his wife, and no\nheavenly power, that acts as Guardian Angel. (The lines 170-71 are not\nof course to be taken literally, '_o'er kingdoms four_' is used in\nother old German poems as equivalent for '_a great distance_.' It is\nnot to be supposed that Kondwiramur was in any sense, even mystically,\naware of her husband's danger, though doubtless it is the conviction\nthat her love for him is as steadfast as his for her that strengthens\nhis arm.) Throughout this conflict between the two brothers it is\nlove, in the twelfth century form of _Minne-Dienst_, which is regarded\nas the animating power on either side; though the fact that they are\nrespectively Christian and heathen is insisted on by the poet, yet\nwe do not find the conflict regarded as a struggle between the two\nreligions, nor any sign given of the superiority of the God of the\nChristian to the heathen deities, in fact the same Divine Power is\ninvoked to shield them both (p. 139). It certainly seems here as if\nthe _knightly_ interpretation had, in a great measure, overborne the\n_ethical_. That there _was_ an ethical signification attached to the\nepisode seems evident, not only from the fact that this conflict with\nFeirefis, whose peculiar parti-coloured appearance recalls so strongly\nthe contrast between Doubt and Faith, drawn in the Introduction, is the\nlast stage in Parzival's long expiation; but also from the fact of\nthe breaking of Ither of Gaheviess' sword, of which special mention is\nmade in lines 173 and _seq._ The poet evidently intends us to regard\nthis as a token that Parzival's youthful sins have been atoned for,\nand there seems little doubt that the incident was introduced here for\nthat purpose. That the sword here broken was originally the _Grail_\nsword, and that the change was made by Wolfram from the difficulty\nof reconciling that fact with previous statements (cf. Book IX. p.\n252), as Simrock suggests, is most improbable, there would have been\nno reason for the _Grail Sword_ breaking in this rather than in any\nother combat (accepting Chr\u00eatien's statement that the sword would break\nonly in _one peril_; it had withstood considerably more than _one\nblow_), quite the contrary, as here Parzival is practically the Grail\nchampion; but there is a deep significance in this shattering of the\nlast token of the headstrong folly of his youth. It seems most probable\nthat Wolfram found this incident in his source; and that the original\nmeaning of the combat was to depict the last desperate struggle of the\nsoul with Doubt, wherein by _steadfast resistance_ (absolute conquest\nis not at once to be looked for) the sins of the past are wiped out,\nand the soul becomes finally worthy of reward.\n\nPage 141, line 195--'_Thro' fear shall I tell my name?_' Cf. Note\nto Book XIV. The courteous and knightly bearing of Feirefis, both\nhere and on p. 142, should be noted. In everything but faith he is\nquite the equal of his Christian brother; indeed it must be admitted\nthat, compared with either Feirefis or Gawain, _Parzival_ gives the\nimpression of being a much less courtly and polished figure. His\ncharacter seems stamped throughout with a rugged simplicity and\ndirectness, quite in keeping with what we are told of his wild and\nlonely youth. It is noticeable, too, how very little, comparatively\nspeaking, Parzival says; though all the speeches put into his mouth\nhave an earnestness and depth of feeling which we do not find in the\nmuch more frequent utterances of Gawain. Wolfram's tolerant treatment\nof heathen, generally, has often been a subject of remark by critics;\nand, with regard to Feirefis, the number of allusions to him which the\n_Willehalm_ contains lead one to the conclusion that this character, in\nparticular, was a favourite with the poet.\n\nPage 141, line 202--'_How shall \"Angevin\" be thy title?_' The reader\nwill probably by this time have noticed that, King of Anjou as Parzival\nis, he is never called an Angevin, but is invariably referred to as\na 'Waleis,' his mother's country. It is his _mother's_ kingdoms of\nwhich he has been deprived (cf. Book III. pp. 73, 80, 87), and this is\nreally the first indication we have that he knows himself to be also\nlord of Anjou. Gamuret is alluded to, and gives his name as, Gamuret\nAngevin; Feirefis, is always Feirefis Angevin; but Parzival, the hero\nof the story and the real glory of his house, is not an Angevin but a\n'Waleis.' This shows clearly that the _Angevin_ element formed no part\nof the original Perceval legend, but that it has been grafted on to a\npreviously existing Celtic basis.\n\nPage 141, line 205--'_B\u00e9alzenan_.' Cf. Book V. p. 147 and Note.\n\nPage 142, line 230--'_As written parchment_.' Ekuba did _not_ say this\nin Wolfram's version, cf. Book VI. p. 186, possibly the simile was in\nthe French source and has been dropped out. It is a curious idea to\noccur to a man who, like Wolfram, could not write; and it is also a\ncurious speech to put into the mouth of one who, like Parzival, had\nbeen brought up in the desert, and deprived of the ordinary training\ndue to his rank.\n\nPage 143, line 241--'_Blest be Juno_,' _etc._ This ascription of\nLatin gods and goddesses to _all_ the non-Christian races was not\nunusual in the Middle Ages; Apollo was the god most commonly thus\ntransferred. It is rather curious though to find the mistake made in\na poem so obviously tinged by Oriental influences as the _Parzival_.\nWolfram, too, seems to have known that the Saracens had other gods, in\n_Willehalm_ he names as such Apollo, Mahmet, and Tervigant.\n\nPage 144, line 275--'_When King Eisenhart's life was run_.' Cf. Book I.\np. 28.\n\nPage 144, line 294--'_Till King Ipomidon_.' Cf. Book II. p. 59.\n\nPage 146, line 353--'_From Ch\u00e2teau Merveil_,' _etc._ Cf. Book XII. p.\n53.\n\nPage 147, line 377--'_Saranthasm\u00e9_.' Cf. Book XIII. p. 74 and note.\n\nPage 149, line 458--'_Wizsant_.' A haven on the coast of France,\nnear Boulogne, much frequented at that time. Writers of the period\nfrequently allude to it.\n\nPage 153, line 583 and _seq._, page 154, line 615 and _seq._ The\nlist of kings conquered by Feirefis and Parzival contain some very\nperplexing names, the originals of which have evidently been corrupted\nin process of transmission from one language to another. Bartsch, who\nhas devoted considerable time to the study of the proper names in the\n_Parzival_, has endeavoured, with varying success, to identify the\nmajority; and the following suggestions are taken from his article on\nthe subject, already quoted in Appendix B, of vol. i.\n\nIn the first list, that of the princes conquered by Feirefis, names of\nGreek origin are of frequent occurrence; thus Papirus of Trogodjent\u00e9,\nBartsch identifies as the king of the Troglodyt\u00e6; Liddamus of Agripp\u00e9\nwas originally Laodamus of Agrippias; Tinodent, the island of Tenedos;\nMilon is, of course, a well-known Greek name, as is Kallicrates, here\nKillicrates, Filones of Hiberborticon is the Greek _Philon_; and it\nmay be taken as a general rule that all the names ending in _on_, in\nthis list, may be traced more or less directly to a Greek source.\nPossizonjus is a version of Poseidonios (having probably passed through\na Latin medium); Atropfagent\u00e9 is the land of the Androphagi, or\nAnthropophagi; Acheinor is the Greek _Archenor_.\n\nIn the list of the heroes conquered by Parzival we have, on the\ncontrary, few classical names; Jeropleis, _i.e._ Hieropolis, seems to\nbe almost the only example. The majority of the names appear to be of\nRomance origin, or at least to have passed through a Romance source.\nThus Mirabel, the name of a place in Southern France, and Serabel,\nhere the ending _bel_ indicates the French origin; Villegarunz is the\nProv. _Villagrana_; Jovedast of Arles, a Proven\u00e7al, proclaims his own\nnationality.\n\nIt is probably no accident that this majority of classical names appear\nin the first list, that of Feirefis, since, as noted above, Greeks and\nRomans alike were classed by the medi\u00e6val writers as heathens, and they\nwould see nothing incorrect in giving Saracens classical names, in the\nsame way as they provided them with classical deities.\n\nPage 154, line 608--'_Olympia and Klauditt\u00e9_.' Here again we find the\nnames of the three queens beloved by Feirefis of distinctly classical\norigin: Klauditt\u00e9 being a French derivation from Claudia. Sekundill\u00e9 is\nthe only queen of whom we hear elsewhere, the other two are mentioned\nby name only.\n\nPage 155, line 643--'_Heraclius or Hercules_.' Heracles was the\nhero of a German poem of the twelfth century, which attributes to\nhim a knowledge of the properties of precious stones. The Alexander\nhere referred to is Alexander the Great; not the lover of Surdamur,\nmentioned in Books XII. and XIV. (cf. note to XII.)\n\nPage 156, line 664--'_Drianthasm\u00e9_.' Apparently a combination of\nTriande and Thasm\u00e9, cf. Book XIII. p. 74.\n\nPage 158, line 723--'_With turtle-doves, all shining_.' Kondrie does\nnot seem to have borne the badge of the Grail on her first visit (Book\nVI. p. 177); this, her second appearance, seems to bear more of an\nofficial character.\n\nPage 158, line 741--'_Without a kiss_.' A kiss was the customary sign\nand seal of forgiveness (cf. Book V. 151, 152; Book VI. 177; Book XIV.\n129), but Kondrie is fully aware of her repulsive appearance, and\nwould, therefore, release Parzival from the fulfilment of a distasteful\nduty. It must be noted that, throughout the poem, Kondrie is in no\nsense represented as a malicious character. Her brother, Malcr\u00e9ature,\non the contrary, seems to have been thoroughly evil-disposed, cf. Book\nX. p. 12.\n\nPage 159, line 767--'_Now rejoice with a humble heart_.' Kondrie's\nannouncement to Parzival appears, in some points, to be a direct\ncontradiction of what we have already been told with regard to the\npromised healing of Anfortas. In Book IX. p. 278, Trevrezent distinctly\nsays that the question must be asked on the _first_ night of the visit\nto the Castle; that no warning must be previously given; and that\n_if_ the knight fulfils these conditions, then, and then only, will\nhe become king of the Grail. Now Parzival apparently traverses all\nthese conditions, he omits to ask the question on his first visit, he\nis told of the sin he has thereby committed, and on this, his second\nvisit, is made well aware of what is expected of him (cf. lines 774\nand _seq._), while the Grail announces him as king _before_ he has\nasked the question. It is true that no one tells him the exact words\nin which he is to put the query, but Parzival is well aware that he\nis to ask Anfortas the cause of his anguish, and it scarcely seems\nlikely that the virtue of the question depends upon the form in which\nit is put. Are we to consider from Trevrezent's words, Book XVI. p.\n171, that Parzival's valour and steadfastness of purpose have wrought\na change in the Divine Counsels, and that the bliss which he had in\nhis folly forfeited is to be granted to him on his fulfilment of the\n_spirit_ of the Grail conditions, the fulfilment of the _letter_ being\ndispensed with? The question is a perplexing one, and difficult to\nsolve satisfactorily.\n\nPage 160, line 779--'_Seven stars did she name unto him_.' The\nintroduction of these Arabic names is decidedly curious in view of\nWolfram's emphatic statement that the origin of the _Parzival_ was an\nArabic MS., though Bartsch remarks that the names in question were not\nnecessarily derived from the source, there being still extant a German\nastronomical poem of the twelfth century which contains a number of\nArabic names. Still it is strange that Wolfram's version should be\nas close as it is to the original form of the words, thus Zev\u00e2l is\nthe Arabic _Zuhal_, Saturn; Almustri, _El-musteri_, Jupiter; Almaret,\n_El-mirr\u00eak_, Mars; Samsi, _Shams_, the Sun; Alligafir and Alkamer\ncannot be exactly identified with the remaining two planets, Venus and\nMercury, but seem to represent rather the names of two constellations,\nrespectively called El-gafir and El-kidr. Alkamer is the moon, Arabic\n_El-kamer_.\n\nPage 160, line 799--'_If thou speakest, Lady_.' The humility of this\nspeech of Parzival's, contrasted with the indignant outbreak of wounded\npride in Book VI. pp. 187, 188, is the most decisive proof which the\npoem affords of the spiritual change which has passed over him, and of\nhis fitness to become king of the Grail, a blessing which Anfortas has\nforfeited through lack of humility (cf. Book IX. p. 272 and Book XVI.\np. 182).\n\nPage 161, line 817--'_From the bright eyes of Orgelus\u00e9_.' Cf. Book XII.\np. 65.\n\nPage 162, line 861--'_Triant_.' Cf. Book XIII. p. 74. Nouriente = von\nourient, _i.e._ Orient.\n\n\nBOOK XVI\n\nPage 165, line 5, _and seq._--'_Then he spake to the knights of\nMonsalv\u00e4sch_.' Those readers who are familiar with Wagner's _Parzival_\nwill see in this speech of Anfortas to the knights, and his attempt\nto win death for himself by shutting his eyes to the Grail, the germ\nof the scene in the Grail Temple in Act III. of the Drama. It will be\nnoted that _here_ Anfortas does not injure any one but himself by this\nattempt at self-destruction. Titurel is still alive, cf. p. 178. It\nis noteworthy that the knights still await the advent of the promised\nHealer; though, as we gather from Trevrezent's speech, Book IX. p. 278,\n'The knight, he hath come, and hath left us,' they were aware that\n_Parzival_ was he, and had failed to fulfil his mission.\n\nPage 166, line 49--'_Teriak_.' Cf. Book IX. p. 278, Ambra=Amber.\n\nPage 167, line 67, _and seq._--'_Carbuncle and Balas ruby_,' _etc._\nIt has before been remarked that the belief in the virtue of precious\nstones was very real and very general in the Middle Ages. Similar lists\nare given by various writers, Albertus Magnus among them; and San Marte\nremarks that, if this list is compared with medi\u00e6val writings, it will\nbe found that the names have not been put together in a haphazard\nfashion, but that the special virtue ascribed to each stone has a\ndirect bearing on Anfortas' sufferings. _Jewels_, in the strict sense\nof the term, these stones are not exclusively, _e.g._ we find Asbestos\nand Pyrites among the list; the expression 'precious stones' was freely\nconstrued in those days. The Latin equivalent of all these names can be\nfound in writings of the period, but it would scarcely be interesting\nto give a minute description and identification.\n\nPage 169, line 119--'_And e'en as was there the custom_.' Cf. Book V.\np. 132.\n\nPage 169, line 130--'_O'er-long have I waited_.' Anfortas' speech to\nParzival is curious; some critics have opined that he alone was not\naware of the lately read Grail writing, and of Parzival's election to\nthe Grail kingdom, and was, therefore, in doubt as to whether or not he\nwas the destined Deliverer. But, if that were the case, how did he come\nnot only to know Parzival's name, but to lay such stress upon it ('If\n_Parzival_ men shall call thee, _then_, etc.'), _i.e._ 'If thou art\nindeed the chosen ruler of these knights, then exercise thine authority\non my behalf.' We learn from Book IX. p. 271, that the _name_ of the\nelect knights appeared on the Grail. If Anfortas had learnt it from\nTrevrezent, the only other source of information he could have had,\nhe would have had no doubt of the identity of the promised Deliverer\nwith the knight who had already paid an abortive visit to the Castle;\nas it is, he recognises him at once, but is in doubt whether he is\nthe 'Parzival' named by the Grail. The meaning of his speech seems to\nbe that Anfortas was unaware how far Parzival himself was acquainted\nwith the _r\u00f4le_ assigned to him, and feared to transgress the Grail's\ncommandment, and risk the promised healing by saying too much.\n\nPage 169, line 141--'_Now say where the Grail It lieth?_' It is\nremarkable that though Parzival is well aware of the nature of the\nquestion which he is to put to Anfortas, and of the happy results which\nwill follow (p. 159), yet he fully realises that this healing can only\nbe brought about by the blessing of God; it is as God's Messenger, and\nnot in his own power, that he speaks. He feels himself, and wishes the\nknights to regard him, merely as the instrument in God's hand; there is\nno trace of self-assertion or presumption in his action, the grace of\nhumility has been fully won. The beautiful touch in lines 155-56 seems\nto show that to Anfortas, also, the long ordeal issued in distinct\nspiritual gain. It is worth noting that, from this point onwards,\nAnfortas is spoken of as a knight in the prime of life, worthy to be\ncompared in skill and prowess with his nephew, Parzival, and excelling\nhim in physical beauty; whereas Trevrezent, who was considerably the\nyounger (cf. Book IX. p. 275), is always spoken of as an old man. This\nis, of course, due to the youth-preserving powers of the Grail (cf.\nBook IX. p. 270), so R\u00e9panse-de-Schoie, who had been in the service of\nthe Grail from her childhood, would have retained the appearance of a\nyoung girl, and there is nothing surprising, therefore, in Feirefis\nbecoming enamoured of her beauty.\n\nPage 178, line 147--'_By the mouth of His saint, Sylvester_.' An\nallusion to a well-known story told of S. Sylvester; how when he was\ndefending Christianity against a Jew, in the presence of the Emperor\nConstantine, he restored to life, by the invocation of Christ, a steer\nwhich the Jew had slain by whispering the most Holy Name into its ear,\nbut had failed to revivify by the same means.\n\nPage 170, line 168--'_The wood when they fought of old_.' Cf. Book VI.\np. 160 and _seq._ This reunion of Parzival and Kondwiramur on the very\nspot where he had been overcome by the mystic love-trance is a most\npoetical feature of Wolfram's version, and one found nowhere else.\n\nPage 171, line 183--'_Greater marvel I ne'er may see_.' Cf. Book IX. p.\n267. This passage, with its practical unsaying of much that Trevrezent\nhas said in Book IX., is extremely difficult of explanation. That\nthere is a distinct discrepancy, not to say contradiction, between the\nstatements of Book IX. and those of Book XVI. is undoubtedly the fact;\nthe most probable solution appears to be that suggested in Excursus\nC at p. 194 of this volume; _i.e._ the original interpretation, that\nof Kiot, was purely religious, and it was that which Wolfram in Book\nIX. was mainly following; he himself, however, had grafted another\nmeaning on to that originally suggested, that of salvation by fidelity\nto the knightly ideal, the power of the _unverzagter mannes muot_.\nBy the time Wolfram had reached the end of the poem, he found that\nhis interpretation had dominated that of Kiot, he had practically\nmade Parzival do that which Trevrezent says is impossible ('Wouldst\nthou force thy God with thine anger?' Book IX. p. 267. 'Thou by thy\nwrath hast won blessing'), and this passage seems to be an attempt to\nharmonise these two conflicting ideas. It is certainly not easy of\ninterpretation, for on the face of it, while Trevrezent is asserting\nthe unchanging nature of God's decrees, as illustrated by the history\nof the rebel angels, he is also implying that Parzival himself has been\nthe object of special and peculiar favour on the part of the Deity, and\nthat the foreordained course of events has in his case been at least\nmodified.\n\nPage 172, line 213--'_Duke Kiot of Katelangen_.' Cf. Book IV. p. 107,\nand Book IX. p. 274.\n\nPage 174, line 277--'_When many a year had flown_.' This is the only\nindication we have of the eventual recovery of Parzival's inheritance.\nFrom the emphasis laid upon the episode in Book III. one would have\nexpected to find Parzival himself making some effort for the recovery\nof his kingdoms, but he never seems to have done so (cf. Notes to Book\nIII. pp. 308, 309).\n\nPage 174, line 302--'_Schoysian\u00e9, the dead maid's mother_.' In\nWolfram's poem, _Titurel_, we find exactly the reverse of this\nstatement; _i.e._ Sigun\u00e9, whose mother died at her birth (as we are\nrepeatedly told), was given into the care of the mother of Kondwiramur,\nand the two children were brought up together till Sigun\u00e9 was five\nyears old, when Herzeleide persuaded Duke Kiot to transfer his daughter\nto her charge. How this discrepancy arose is not clear; Wolfram may\nperhaps have forgotten what he had said in _Titurel_, or he may have\nfollowed his French source.\n\nPage 174. line 306--'_Nor my tale like the bow shall be bended_.' Cf.\nBook V. p. 137.\n\nPage 175, line 310--'_A Templar of Patrigalt_.' Cf. Book II. p. 39.\n\nPage 175, line 319--'_Garschiloie of Greenland_.' Cf. Book V. p. 144.\nGreenland here is not to be understood as the Greenland we know, but\nas part of Norway. The Grail maidens have not been individually named\nbefore, though the Countess of Tenabroc and the daughter of Jernis were\nmentioned in Book V. pp. 133, 134. Florie of L\u00fcnel may be the daughter\nof the Count of _Nonel_ named in conjunction with Jernis.\n\nPage 177, line 373--'_Claret, Morass, or Sinopel_.' Morass seems to\nhave been a wine made from mulberries; Sinopel, wine mixed with sweet\nsyrups.\n\nPage 178, line 411--'_The Tourney hath fashions five_.' Cf. Note to\nBook II. 'The Tourney.'\n\nPage 178, line 434--'_If he be a heathen_.' This inability of the\nunbaptized to behold the Grail, and the renewal of the power of the\nstone every Good Friday are the two most direct proofs of the Christian\nnature of the Talisman to be found in the poem. As remarked in Note\nto Book IX., Wolfram never seems really to connect the Grail with the\nPassion of our Lord.\n\nPage 179, line 441--'_If I, for your sake, be baptiz\u00e8d_.' It should be\nnoted that Feirefis is not in the least influenced by any religious\nmotive in seeking Baptism; throughout, as in the combat with Parzival\nin Book XV., it is _Love_ that is his guiding impulse.\n\nPage 181, line 501--'_God is Man_,' _etc._ Cf. p. 171 where Trevrezent\nmakes use of exactly the same words.\n\nPage 181, line 506--'_Each tree from the water draweth_,' _etc._ This\nand the following lines are inscribed on the fountain erected in 1860\nto the memory of the poet, in the market-place of Ober-Eschenbach.\n\nPage 182, line 526--'_The Templar whom God henceforward_.' In the face\nof the antiquity of the Swan-knight legend, it is impossible to regard\nthis as more than an ingenious attempt on the part either of Wolfram or\nof his French authority to account for Lohengrin's prohibition of the\nquestion, cf. Note on 'Lohengrin.'\n\nPage 183, line 562--'_Anfortas, he sent a message_.' Cf. Book IX. p.\n285.\n\nPage 183, line 566--'_Loehprisein_,' Book VIII. and Note.\n'Loehtamreis,' Book XII. and Note.\n\nPage 183, line 580--'_Camelot_.' This is the only mention in this poem\nof the town so well known in other versions of the Arthurian legend.\n\nPage 184, line 589--'_Prester John_.' The belief in a Christian kingdom\nin the East, ruled over by a king who was at the same time a priest was\nvery widely spread in the Middle Ages, but it is very curious to find\nit thus connected with the Grail legend. Simrock takes this connection\nto be a confirmation of his theory, that the Grail myth was originally\nclosely connected with St. John the Baptist. According to _Der j\u00fcngere\nTiturel_, a poem which, professedly written by Wolfram and long\nsupposed to be his, is now known to be the work of a certain Albert\nvon Scharffenburg, the Grail with its guardians, Parzival, Lohengrin,\nKondwiramur, and all the Templars, eventually left Monsalv\u00e4sch, and\nfound a home in the domains of Prester John, but the story seems to be\ndue rather to the imagination of the writer than to any real legendary\nsource.\n\nPage 184, line 610, _and seq._--'_The Lohengrin myth_.' This legend of\na supernatural benefactor or deliverer, who arrives at the land which\nhe is to benefit in a boat, miraculously guided, and leaves it in\nthe same way, is extremely widely spread, and may be regarded rather\nas the property of the Aryan race as a whole, than of one nation in\nparticular. In its earliest forms, such as the legend of Sceaf among\nthe Anglo-Saxons, and H\u00f6ni in the Faroe Isles, the hero is undoubtedly\nof divine origin, and the second of these seems to be the first in\nwhich the swan element is introduced. The original signification\nappears to be that of a 'year-myth,' symbolising the conflict between\nthe seasons; the god of spring first overcoming, and then in his turn\nbeing overcome by, the power of winter. Bloete, in an article on the\nsubject in the _Zeitschrift f\u00fcr Deutsches Alterthum_, explains the\nconnection with the swan by the fact that this is a migratory bird,\nand that in the days when the lower part of the Rhine formed a marshy\nDelta, swans frequented these lowlands in large numbers on their way\nto, and from, their summer quarters in Northern Europe. In this way\nthe birds were the heralds alike of the coming and of the departing\nlight and warmth, and became associated with the embodied genius of\nspring and summer. It is certainly a curious fact that the legend of\nthe Swan-knight in its developed form is distinctly to be traced to\nthese countries. The original association with the god of light, Bloete\nthinks, was the work of Keltic fancy, and by them imparted to their\nBatavian successors in the lowlands of the Rhine. By the thirteenth\ncentury, the story had clothed itself in distinctly chivalric form, the\nhero was no longer a god, but a knight, and in this shape the legend\nbecame connected with the origin of more than one noble family of the\nday; notably with that of Godfrey de Bouillon, the Crusader. It is\nnoticeable in this connection that Gerbert, one of the continuators\nof Chr\u00eatien, has a passage prophesying that of Perceval's race shall\nspring the 'Swan-knight and the Deliverer of the Holy Sepulchre.'\n\nThis passage, together with the fact that Wolfram connects Lohengrin\nwith Brabant, seems to indicate that the German poet was not the first\nto connect the legend of the Swan-knight with that of the Grail,\nbut found the story in his French source; though he certainly gives\nthe earliest version of the legend in the shape in which, through\nWagner's _Lohengrin_, it is familiar to us to-day. A more prolonged\nand elaborate account of Lohengrin's adventures is given in _Der\nj\u00fcngere Titurel_ already referred to; here the lady is the Duchess\nof Lizaborye, and the catastrophe is brought about by the advice of\na treacherous maid, who persuades the Duchess that if she cuts off,\nroasts, and eats a portion of her husband's flesh, he will be unable\nto leave her. In pursuance of this intention, armed knights break into\nLohengrin's chamber at night, and in the struggle with them, though\novercoming his assailants, he is himself slain. The unhappy wife dies\nof grief, and the name of the country is changed from Lizaborye to\nLothringen (Lorraine) in memory of Lohengrin. (Those familiar with the\nWagner Drama will note the skill with which Wagner has combined these\ntwo versions of the legend.)\n\nIn the forbidden question we probably have a surviving testimony to\nthe originally divine nature of the hero; it is a well-known feature\nof such legends that a mortal wife wedded to a divine husband may not\ninquire too closely into that husband's nature, _e.g._ the myths of\nJupiter and Semele, and of Eros and Psyche. The question therefore\nprobably belongs to the original form of the story, and the passage on\np. 182 is merely, as suggested above, an ingenious attempt to explain a\nfeature which puzzled the later compilers.\n\nPage 186, line 661--'_Here Herr Erec should speak_.' An allusion to\nHartmann's _Erec_, so often referred to. The hero forbids his wife\nto speak to him, she breaks the silence in order to warn him of an\nimpending danger, and is punished by him for so doing.\n\nPage 186, line 663--'_If Chr\u00eatien of Troyes_,' _etc._ Here for the\nfirst time Wolfram gives us clearly to understand that he knew\nChr\u00eatien's Grail poem, but deliberately preferred to follow Kiot's'\nversion, to which he has made frequent allusions. If Wolfram's\nstatement is to be accepted as it stands, we must perforce conclude\nthat both the first two books and the last three (of which Chr\u00eatien\nhas no trace) were in Kiot's poem, '_To the end_, the Proven\u00e7al told\nit.' Certainly Wolfram himself does not wish us to consider that any\npart of the tale was due to his own invention, but rather that he was\nthroughout faithfully adhering to lines already laid down. The question\nof the connection between Chr\u00eatien and Wolfram will be found fully\ndiscussed in Excursus B.\n\n FINIS\n\n Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty\n at the Edinburgh University Press\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes:\n\n\n Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors were\n silently corrected.\n\n Punctuation normalized.\n\n Anachronistic and non-standard spellings retained as printed.\n\n Italics markup is enclosed in _underscores_.","title":"Parzival: A Knightly Epic (vol. 2 of 2)","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":93827}