Chapter X: Book VI: Arthur (1)

Now perchance it were well I should tell ye, how, as this his
folk did pray,
From Karidöl and his kingdom, King Arthur had ridden away.
And now the venture telleth, on his own and on stranger
ground
For eight days long had they ridden, nor yet had the Red
Knight found.
For in truth 'twas for him they were seeking, to honour his
hand were fain, 5
From sorrow had he released them, who had erst Prince Ither
slain;
And Klamidé the king, and Kingron, in a welcome hour had sent
To the court of the Breton Monarch: for on this was King
Arthur bent,
He would make him one of his circle, a knight of the Table
Round,
No labour too great he counted, so the hero at last he found! 10

Thus o'er mountain and vale they sought him--All who knightly
shield might bear,
King Arthur now called around him, and in this wise he bade
them swear:
What deeds so e'er of knighthood they should see, by this
their oath,
They should on no conflict venture, but faithful still keep
their troth,
As they sware unto him, their monarch, and fight but as he
thereto 15
Should give them leave--He spake thus, 'Now, 'tis well! Since
we needs must go
Thro' many a stranger country, where many a stranger spear,
And many a gallant hero are waiting us, I fear,
If ye, like hounds untrainèd whose leash shall have slipped
the hand
Of him who was late their master, shall roam free o'er all
the land, 20
Much evil might there befall ye, and such chance should but
please me ill,
And by this your oath, I think me, such rashness I best may
still.
Be ye sure and need ariseth, your king ne'er will say you
Nay,
Till then, as I here command ye, ride peaceful upon your
way.'

Now the oath, ye shall well have heard it--Now hear ye how
Parzival, 25
The Waleis, rode near unto them: thro' the night did the
snow-flakes fall,
Light they fell, yet lay thickly on him, yet if well I the
tale may know,
And the singer aright hath sung it, it was never the time of
snow;
For whate'er men have sung or spoken of King Arthur, at
Whitsuntide,
Or when May-blossoms deck the meadow, these marvels did aye
betide. 30
For sweetly the springtide bloometh, and many a garb, I ween,
Shall it bear this song of my singing, tho' snow-clad it now
be seen.

The falconers from Karidöl, as the shadows of evening fell,
Rode, hawking, by Plimizöl's waters, when an evil chance
befell,
For the best of their hawks flew from them, nor stooped to
the lure again, 35
But all night in the dusky shadows of the woodland it did
remain.

With Parzival it sheltered; to the twain was the woodland way
A road unknown, sharp the frost stung, in the far east uprose
the day,
And, lo! all around the hero, the snow-flakes lay thick and
white:
Thro' the forest paths untrodden, in ever waxing light, 40
Rode our hero by hedge or thicket, by rock and by fallen
tree,
Till clear grew the shadowy woodland, and its depths he well
might see,
And a mighty tree of the forest had fallen where he would
ride,
(The falcon yet followed after) 'mid its clustering boughs he
spied
A flock of wild-geese from the Northland, their hissing he
first had heard, 45
Swift swooped the falcon upon them and struck to the earth a
bird:
And scarce might it fly the clutches of its foe, and fresh
shelter take
'Neath the shade of the fallen branches; in its flight from
the wounds there brake
Three blood-drops, all glowing crimson, and fell on the
spotless snow,
As Parzival's eyes beheld them, swift sorrow his heart must
know! 50

Now hear ye his love so loyal--As he looked on these
blood-drops bright,
That stained with a stain of crimson the snow-flakes that lay
so white,
He thought, 'Say what hand hath painted these colours that
here I see?
Kondwiramur, I think well, these tints sure shall liken thee!
And white snow and blood-drops crimson, do ever thy likeness
share, 55
For this favour I praise God's working, and the world he hath
wrought so fair!
For in this wise I read the vision,--in this snow that so
spotless lies,
'Gainst the blood-drops, that ruddy-gleaming, glow crimson
beneath mine eyes,
I find ever thy face so gracious, my lady, Kondwiramur,
Red as blood-drops and white as the snowdrift, it rejoiceth
me evermore!' 60
Then her sweet face arose before him, in that night she first
sought his side,
When on each cheek a tear-drop glistened, and a third to her
chin did glide.
And so true was his love and steadfast, little recked he of
aught around,
But wrapped round in love and longing, saw naught but the
blood-stained ground.
Frau Minne with force constrained him, as here on his wife he
thought, 65
And by magic of colours mystic, a spell on his senses
wrought.

So held he him still, as sleeping--Would ye know who found
him there?
The squire of fair Kunnewaaré would forth unto Lalande fare,
And as on his way he journeyed, by the woodland green he saw
A helmet all battle-dinted, and a shield which yet traces
bore 70
Of many a bitter conflict that was foughten for lady fair;
And a knight there abode in armour, and his lance he aloft
did bear
As one who here patient waited the joust that he fain would
ride.
The squire swiftly turned his bridle and back to the camp he
hied.
Yet in sooth had he seen the stranger, and his lady's
champion known, 75
He had ne'er been so swift to decry him, nor had wished he
were overthrown,
Nor e'en as he were an outlaw, set the heroes upon his track:
The squire he of queen unfaithful, small wonder he knighthood
lacked!

And in this wise he called upon them, 'Fie! Fie! on ye,
coward knights!
Hold ye not Gawain for a marvel? Have ye not in a hundred
fights 80
Won honour and fame as heroes, who fight for a hero king?
Know now that ye stand dishonoured, and broken your goodly
ring!'
Ah! then there arose a clamour, and none but was fain to know
Of the deed of knightly prowess, that should shame their
honour so.
When they heard how but one knight dared them, that but one
knight a foe did wait, 85
Then sorely they mourned the promise that they sware to their
king of late.
Then Knight Segramor sprang swiftly from amid the angry
throng,
He ran, for in sooth he walked not, and ever his heart did
long
To be in the midst of conflict, where conflict might chance
to be,
An they failèd with cords to bind him, in the thick of the
fight was he! 90
And nowhere the Rhine's swift waters may flow so strong and
wide,
Tho' the stream should run swift between them, an men fought
on the further side,
He stayed not to test the waters, if the current be hot or
cold,
But straightway the stream he breasted, as fitted a swimmer
bold!

Swift-foot to the tent of the monarch, the eager youth he
sped, 95
For the day was but yet in its dawning, and the king he lay
yet abed.
Then straight thro' the lists he hied him, and he gat him
thro' the door,
And the covering all of sable, with hasty hand he tore
From the twain who lay warm beneath it, and slumbered a
slumber deep,
Yet his haste moved them but to laughter, tho' he waked them
from out their sleep! 100
And loudly he cried on his cousin--'Queen, Lady, Guinevere,
Since the world knoweth well our kinship, thou must do me
this service here,
Speak thou for me to thine husband, and pray thou of him this
grace,
Since a knightly venture nears us, my lot _first_ the foe to
face!'

Yet Arthur spake, 'Now bethink thee of the oath thou didst
swear to me, 105
In all things my will to follow, nor rashly to venture thee;
For if thou a joust now ridest, hereafter shall many a knight
Crave leave at mine hand to ride forth, and seek for fame in
fight,
And 'twere ill thus our force to weaken, for know thou that
near at hand,
Anfortas of Monsalväsch with a mighty host doth stand. 110
This wood of his he guardeth, and since we but little know
Where he and his force shall hold them, such chance well
might work us woe!'

Yet Guinevere wrought so wisely Segramor was well-nigh fain
To die of joy, from King Arthur, his lady this grace did
gain.
And on fame and honour only was the gallant youth intent, 115
Nor for gold had he sold the venture on which his heart was
bent.

Now the hero young and beardless, well armed his steed
bestrode,
And over the fresh young greensward his charger at full speed
rode;
And the bushes were bent beneath him, and the golden bells
rang clear
On trapping alike and armour; and I deem well an need were
here 120
To seek for the magic pheasant mid thicket and thorny brake,
He who fain this knight had followed, the bells for his guide
might take!
Thus rashly rode the hero, to him whom Frau Minne's spell
Fast fettered in magic fetters, and no blow at the first
there fell,
For the peace by his word was broken--There held fast by
threefold might, 125
And the power of red blood-drops threefold stood ever the
stranger knight.

(Yea, well I myself have known this, how Frau Minne with
power may hold,
And holding, the senses scatter, and with passion of grief
untold
Shall fill the heart to o'erflowing--'Twas a woman who
wrought this ill,
And vanquished, she doth condemn me, and refuseth me comfort
still. 130
Thus draweth she guilt upon her, for the sin shall be hers, I
ween,
And afar must I fly from the presence, that of old time my
joy hath been.)

Thus Segramor quoth unto him, 'Now it seemeth but ill to me
That thus near our army lieth, and our presence rejoiceth
thee!
And thou holdest his fame too lightly, whom with pride we may
hail our king, 135
And 'tis meet thou for this do penance,--or the death-chime
for me shall ring!
Thus armed, all too near thou ridest; yet first would I
courteous pray
That thou yield thee at this my bidding, or my wrong will I
here repay,
And my blow shall be swift, and thy falling shall scatter
these snow-flakes white!
And I call on thee here to yield thee, ere I put thee to
shame, Sir Knight!' 140

Yet Parzival still kept silence--for Frau Minne, so fair and
young,
In a sorer conflict held him--Then his steed Segramor swung
Aside, as for jousting ready, round wheeled him the war-horse
good
On whose back the gallant hero yet sate in mystic mood,
And ever he gazed on the blood-drops; as his charger turned
him round 145
Awhile from his eyes they vanished, and fame in their stead
he found!
For swift as the blood-drops crimson thus passed from his
dazzled sight,
He hearkened the voice of the foeman, and braced him anew for
fight.

Then as Segramor rode against him, Parzival sought afresh the
spear
That he found by the woodland chapel, with blazon of colours
clear; 150
For tough was the shaft, and he gripped it, and he held the
point full low,
As his foeman dashed fair against him, his shield rang with
the ringing blow.
Then he spurred him anew to the onslaught, and the joust he
so well repaid,
That the knight in his golden armour was low in the snowdrift
laid!
Yet still was the spear unsplintered, tho' it bare him from
off his horse; 155
And Parzival still kept silence, and he wheeled him upon his
course,
And his eyes sought once more the blood-drops, and e'en as
they met his sight
Frau Minne with fetters bound him, and held him in cords of
might,
And he spake never word, nor question, but gazed ever upon
the ground,
And, dreaming, he lost the knowledge which he for a space had
found! 160

But affrighted, the gallant charger had fled back into its
stall,
And its rider arose, little comfort might he find, though he
soft might fall!
Outstretched had he lain in the snowdrift, in such wise e'en
as men shall go
To rest, yet but ill he sleepeth, who sleepeth on couch of
snow!
And such bed had sorrow brought me! for he to whom ill
betides 165
Hath but mocking for his bedfellow, but the lucky doth God's
hand guide.

So near was King Arthur's army, that right well might
Parzival
Be seen of all men, and the wonders, and the conflict that
then befell.
The victor by Love was vanquished, by Love that in days of
old
Did the king of all kings the wisest, King Solomon, captive
hold! 170
Short space, then, ere back to the army once more Knight
Segramor came,
An with praise or with blame they should greet him, he
counted it still the same.
And sharp words he flung among them, with mocking tongue and
bold,
Tho' vanquished, yet not dishonoured, must they ever the hero
hold!

And he quoth, 'Have ye never heard this, that strife bringeth
loss as gain? 175
And never a joust, I wot me, but the victor doth one remain,
While one aye shall be the vanquished: The best ship in storm
may sink,
And I wot that ye ne'er have heard me to speak, for I ne'er
did think,
An he knew of my shield the blazon, he had faced me not as a
foe!
Much evil, in sooth, hath he wrought me, and yet doth he wait
below 180
All those who would ride against him, for he seemeth for
conflict fain,
An a knight should in joust o'erthrow him, such chance might
he count for gain.'

Then straightway unto King Arthur Sir Kay did the tidings
bring,
How his knight, Segramor, had fallen, and his victor, without
their ring,
A young knight, for jousting ready, yet waited with ill
intent-- 185
'Nay, I think an this stranger warrior of so many unpunished
went,
A burden both sore and shameful on our honour such lack would
lay;
Now, my king, an thou hold me worthy, do thou grant me this
grace, I pray,
I would ride hence to ask his meaning, who thus in the
presence fair
Of our Queen Guinevere and her maidens his lance-point aloft
doth bear; 190
But if thou shouldst this boon refuse me, then know, not
another hour
I abide here as this thy servant; for I hold that the
knightly power
And the fair fame of thy Round Table are stainèd if we delay
To arm ourselves 'gainst the stranger who dareth our strength
to-day!
Now, I prithee, give leave to fight him--For tho' blind and
deaf were we, 195
Yet 'tis time that we should defend us'--'As thou willest, so
let it be!'

Then swift did the seneschal arm him, and I ween in fierce
anger's fire
A woodland he fain had wasted 'gainst the foe, who with
strong desire
And love was thus sorely burdened; for Frau Minne a magic
spell
Had wrought with the snow-flakes spotless, and the
blood-drops that crimson fell. 200
And his knighthood he sorely shamèd, who thought here to work
him harm,
Since he faileth true Love to honour, who denieth of Love the
charm.

Frau Minne, say, why dost thou make glad the souls that mourn
With bliss that too swiftly fleeting, but leaveth them more
forlorn?
And how canst thou, Frau Minne, true worth and knightly fame, 205
And manly strength and courage, thus vanquish and put to
shame?
For the least is to thee as the greatest, and the earth shall
no hero boast,
Who thinketh to scorn thine empire, but he learneth unto his
cost
That thou canst, an thou wilt, o'erthrow him; yea, all men
thy power obey,
For thy sceptre we own as mighty, and wide as the world its
sway. 210

Yet this one thing it doth thee honour, tho' thou rulest all
else but ill,
Joy maketh her dwelling with thee, and for this would I
praise thee still!

Frau Minne, alas! of old time full false were thy ways, I
ween,
Nor hast thou thy dealings mended, nor to-day hast thou truer
been,
Thou hast many a maiden shamèd, who love forbidden sought; 215
Thro' thy dealings, upon the vassal, his lord hath sorrow
brought;
And the friend shall false and faithless to the friend of his
bosom prove,
And the servant betray his master; such deeds do but shame
thee, Love!
And I would that it were far from thee, the body to yield to
lust,
In such wise that the soul ashamèd is stricken with sorrow's
thrust, 220
And that with force compelling, the young thou makest old,
Though their years but few be counted, this must we for
treason hold!

Such speech, I ween, beseems not the man who in serving thee
Hath comfort found! If succour thine hand ever brought to me,
I had been less slow to praise thee, but sorrow and loss
alone 225
Hast thou counted to me as guerdon, and such glamour thine
art hath thrown
O'er mine eyes, that, methinks, henceforward I trust thee
never more,
Though small profit it brought unto thee, the bitter grief I
bore!
And yet too high above me art thou, that whate'er my wrong,
I should e'en as a fool upbraid thee with bitter words and
strong: 230
For thy spear too sharply pierces, and scarce may we bear the
weight,
Thou layest at will upon us--Methinks he who sang of late,
'Neath a tree, of thy mystic dealings, and thy wondrous ways
of old,
Had better done had he told us how we thy grace might hold!
(Heinrich of Veldeck was he, and he taught us, I ween, right
well 235
Of the winning of Love, of its guarding, alas! he failed to
tell.)
For oft one thro' folly loses the prize that he late did win;
Yea, to me hath such fate befallen, yet Frau Minne, _thine_
was the sin!
Since all wisdom shall be thy portion, since against thee nor
spear, nor shield,
Nor charger, nor guarded fortress their vaunted power can
wield, 240
I know not what shall withstand thee, nor on earth, nor on
the sea!
He who feareth to face thy conflict, say whither shall he
flee?
'Twas thy mystic power, Frau Minne, that dealt thus with
Parzival,
And reft him awhile of knowledge, and wrought with him as a
fool.
For fair was the queen and gracious who reigned in far
Pelrapär, 245
And she thought on her lord and husband, and she made thee
her message bear.
And for this cause Kardeiss her brother, hast thou for thy
payment slair,
And since thou such tribute askest, 'tis well that I ne'er
have ta'en
From thine hand aught of good, since in such wise thou dost
for thy debtors care--
This I spake for the sake of all men--List ye now how Sir Kay
did fare: 250

Now he rode forth in knightly armour to the strife that he
sore did crave,
And Gamuret's son, right willing, to his wish fulfilment
gave.
And wherever fair maids compelling, their voices uplift in
prayer,
And the grace they shall ask be granted, let them pray here
for his welfare,
Since it was thro' a woman's beauty, that the spell of a
woman wrought 255
Love's magic, of senses robbed him--Then his charger to halt
Kay brought;
And he spake to the gallant Waleis, 'Sir Knight, since thou
thus our king
Hast shamed, thou shalt hear my counsel, for wisdom perchance
'twill bring;
Thou shalt hang thee a hempen halter around thy neck
straightway,
For so may I lightly lead thee, and take thou with me thy
way. 260
Nor think thou, thou canst escape me, but with me unto my
lord
Shalt thou go, as befits a captive, else worse may be thy
reward!'

By love constrained, the Waleis nor word nor answer spoke,
Kay gripped his spear-shaft tightly and he smote with a
mighty stroke
On the hero's head, till the helmet rang loudly beneath his
hand; 265
And he quoth, 'Now will I awake thee! Dost think here to take
thy stand,
And standing sleep unsheeted? Nay, other shalt thou fare,
Low on the snow I'll lay thee! The ass that is wont to bear
The sack from the mill would rue it, did one smite him in
such wise,
As here I think now to smite thee, and thy sloth and thy
sleep chastise!' 270

Frau Minne, now bethink thee, for sore this shameth thee,
For an one should wrong a peasant, in this wise his speech
will be,
'My lord will sure repay thee!' Vengeance from thee he'ld
seek
Methinks, this gallant Waleis, an thou wouldst let him speak!
Now let him from out thy circle, and loose him from thy ban, 275
This stranger guest shalt prove him, a true and valiant man!

Swift rode Sir Kay unto him, and he turned his bridle round,
And no more his longing glances their joy and their sorrow
found,
The white snow and blood-drops crimson, that mystic likeness
bare
To the queen of his love and his longing, the Lady of
Pelrapär; 280
He knew all that passed around him--His charger Sir Kay
addrest
To jousting, he spurred him onward, and his spear he laid in
rest.

In the joust, that which Kay had aimed at he smote, for his
spear did pierce
The Waleis' shield, yet swift payment was his, for in
onslaught fierce
The seneschal of King Arthur fell prone on the fallen tree, 285
Where the geese erewhile had hid them, and hurt full sore was
he,
And dead lay his gallant charger--''Twixt a stone and the
saddle-bow,
Right arm, and left leg had he broken--so mighty his
overthrow
That all that had decked his charger, girths, saddle, bells
of gold,
By the force of the fall were shattered, thus the stranger
his payment told, 290
And with one blow, for twain repaid him--the one that erst
for his sake,
A maiden had borne and the other, which he from Kay's hand
must take.

Thus he who knew naught of falsehood was guided of truth to
know
Her message in blood-drops threefold, on the white of the
drifted snow.
'Twas tear-drops, not blood, that he saw there, and well
might his senses fail, 295
And the thoughts of his heart wax heavy, as he mused on the
wondrous Grail,
And sorely the semblance grieved him that spake of his wife
and queen.
Yet tho' o'er the twain he sorrowed, the greater woe, I ween,
Was the woe that Frau Minne wrought him, for there liveth not
heart so strong,
But longing and love united break its power, ere the time be
long. 300
Count we here those twain as ventures? Nay, 'twere better
methinks to hold,
That they were naught but pain and sorrow, that vanquished
the hero bold.

Now ye unto whom I tell this, I rede ye to mourn Kay's woe,
For full oft as his manhood bade him, he many a strife did
know.
And in many a land they speak thus, that Kay, Arthur's
seneschal, 305
Was a firebrand, hell-born, yet I wot well far other the tale
I'ld tell.
From reproach would I gladly free him, tho' few but should
say me nay,
Yet a gallant man and a worthy, I swear was this knight, Sir
Kay.
And my mouth to this truth beareth witness, and more would I
tell to thee;
Unto Arthur's Court came strangers in many a company, 310
And their manners and ways were diverse, nor all there might
honour claim,
But Kay an he saw false dealing, he counted such ways as
shame,
And his face he turned from the sinner, yet he who dealt
courteously,
And true man with true men would hold him, Kay served him
right heartily.

And one who fall well discernèd the manner of men was Kay, 315
Thus he did to his lord good service, for his harsh words
drave far away
The men who would falsely vaunt them good knights and true to
be,
Ill was he to them as a hailstorm, sharp as sting of an angry
bee.
Small wonder that these deny him his honour and knightly
fame,
True servant and wise they found him, and for this cause upon
his name 320
Their hatred doth still heap slander--Prince Herman,
Thuringia's lord,
Thou with vassals that crowd around thee, and strangers who
seek thy board,
Good service might Kay have done thee, since so free art thou
aye of hand,
That true men and men dishonoured, side by side in thine hall
they stand;
And therefore Knight Walter singeth, 'Now greeting to all I
bring, 325
Men evil and good!' And I trow well, where a singer such song
may sing,
There the false are too highly honoured--Nay, far other Sir
Kay had taught,
(Yea, and Heinrich of Rispach also)--Now hearken ye in what
sort
On Plimizöl's plain men bare them; from the field Sir Kay was
borne
To the tent of his king, and around him, o'er his ill-fate
his friends did mourn; 330
And maiden and knight they stood there; to the tent where his
comrade lay
Came Gawain, and he quoth in sadness, 'Alas! for the woeful
day
That so ill a joust was ridden that hath robbed me of a
friend!'
Then out spake Kay in his anger, 'Now make of thy moan an
end,
If comfort thou here wouldst bring me, do not as the women
do, 335
Since thou art my monarch's nephew! I would do to thee
service true,
As of free heart I ever did it, in the day that God gave me
power,
Nor long for my aid hadst thou prayed me! There cometh,
perchance, an hour
When I, as of old, may serve thee: now cease thou thy moan I
pray,
For tho' mine be the pain, yet my monarch shall ne'er find
another Kay, 340
And I wot that for mine avenger art thou all too nobly born;
An yet hadst _thou_ lost a finger I had counted myself
forsworn
An I risked not mine head to pay it! Let that be as it may,
Believe me or not, as shall please thee, yet sooth are the
words I say!'

'No joust shalt thou ride at my urging, for roughly he greets
his foe, 345
Who holdeth without his station, and rideth nor swift nor
slow.
And I think me, of maidens' tresses, tho' frail be such cord
and fair,
Enough from such strife to bind thee, the chain of a single
hair!
And the man who shall show such meekness, he well doth his
_mother_ love,
Since his _sire_ would fain in the conflict his knightly
mettle prove. 350
But follow thou aye thy mother, Sir Gawain, list well her
rede.
Turn thou pale at the glancing sword-blade, and shrink from
the manly deed!'

And thus on the gallant hero the bitter words he spake
Fell sharply, he looked not for them, nor on Kay might he
vengeance take,
Full seldom a knight may do so, since shame on his lips
setteth seal, 355
But they who thus speak discourteous, such shame shall they
never feel.

Then Gawain he quoth in answer, 'Where men knightly sword
might bear,
And have foughten, and I fought with them, then no man beheld
me there,
And saw that my cheek waxed paler at sight of wound or blow.
I was ever thy friend--'twas needless that thou shouldst
reproach me so!' 360
Then he strode from the tent, and he bade them bring hither
his charger good,
Nor spur on his heel he buckled, unarmed he his steed
bestrode.

So came he unto the Waleis (whose sense was of love held
fast),
And his shield to all eyes bare witness of three spears thro'
its circle passed,
For three jousts of late had he ridden, and he rode them with
heroes twain, 365
Of Orilus too was he smitten--Then gently uprode Gawain,
And he spurred not his steed to gallop, nor conflict nor
strife he sought,
For he rode but in love and in kindness, to seek him who here
had fought.
Fair spake Gawain the stranger, to greeting deaf was he,
Frau Minne yet held him captive, how other might it be? 370
True son of Herzeleide, to this lot was he born,
To lose himself for love's sake; such passion as had torn
The hearts of these his parents, afresh in his heart awoke,
And but little his ear might hearken what the mouth of Gawain
spoke.

Quoth King Lot's son unto the Waleis,' Sir Knight, here thou
doest ill 375
In that thou withholdest greeting--tho' patient I wait thy
will
Far otherwise can I bear me! Know thou that to friend and
king,
Yea, to all whom I count my fellows, thy deed doth dishonour
bring,
And our shame ever waxeth greater; yet prayed I for thee this
grace,
The king of free heart forgives thee, if now thou shalt seek
his face. 380
So hearken, I pray, my counsel, and do thou as I shall say,
And ride thou with me to King Arthur, nor too long shalt thou
find the way.'

Nor threatening nor prayer might move him, this fair son of
Gamuret:
Then the pride of King Arthur's knighthood his memory
backward set,
And he thought of Frau Minne's dealings, and the time when
the knife's sharp blade 385
He drave thro' his hand unwitting, thro' the love of a
gracious maid.
And that time when from death's cold clutches, a queen's hand
had set him free,
When of Lähelein was he vanquished, and captive in joust was
he,
And a queen in the day of his danger must pledge her fair
life for his,
And her name shall of men be praisèd, Queen Ingus of
Bachtarliess. 390
Thought Gawain, 'It may be Frau Minne dealeth so with this
goodly man,
As she dealt with me of old time, so claspeth him in the ban
Of her magic spells fair-woven, that his spirit within the
snare
She holdeth fast entangled'--Then his eyes on the snow-flakes
fair
He cast, and he knew the token, and swift from the
spell-bound sight 395
With cloth of fair silk and sendal, he covered the
blood-drops bright.

The blood-stained snow was hidden, nor longer its spell was
seen,
And his sight and his sense unclouded she gave him, his wife
and queen;
Yet his heart did she hold in her keeping, and its dwelling
was Pelrapär,
And he cried aloud in his sorrow thro' the silent summer air; 400
'Alas! who of thee hath robbed me, who erewhile wast my queen
and wife,
For thy love, thy crown, and thy kingdom my right hand hath
won in strife.
Say, say, am I he who saved thee from Klamidé the warrior
king?
Yea, sorrow and bitter sighing, and grief that the heart doth
wring
Are the guerdons I won in thy service, and now from mine eyes
be-dazed 405
Art thou reft, and thy place I know not, tho' but now on thy
face I gazed.'

Then he quoth, 'Now, where shall my spear be, since I wot
well I brought it here?'
Quoth Gawain, 'A joust hast thou ridden, and splintered shall
be thy spear.'
'With whom should I joust?' quoth the Waleis, 'thou bearest
nor sword nor shield,
And little had been mine honour, an thou to my hand didst
yield! 410
Yet bear I awhile thy mocking, nor will I thy friendship
pray,
Tho' many a joust have I ridden, yet my saddle I kept alway.
An thou be not for jousting minded, and I find not in thee a
foe,
Yet the world lieth wide before me, and hence on my way I go;
For labour and strife am I seeking and fain would I win me
praise, 415
Be anguish or joy my portion; nor unfruitful shall be my
days.'

Quoth Gawain, 'What I spake aforetime I spake of true heart
and free,
Nor my thoughts were the thoughts of evil, for well would I
deal with thee;
And the boon that I crave will I win me, my monarch with many
a knight
Lieth here at hand with his army, and with many a lady
bright, 420
An it please thee, Sir Knight, to betake thee to our goodly
company,
From all strife shall this right hand guard thee, and gladly
I'll ride with thee.'
'I thank thee, Sir Knight, fair thou speakest, yet say ere
with thee I ride,
Who the monarch may be whom thou servest? and who rideth here
at my side?'

'A man do I hail as master, thro' whose fame much fame I won, 425
Nor here shall my mouth keep silence on the things he for me
hath done.
For dear hath he ever held me, and as true knight did me
entreat:
(His sister King Lot hath wedded, and the twain I as parents
greet.)
And the good gifts God gave unto me, to his service I yield
them all,
For my hand and my heart he ruleth, whom men do King Arthur
call. 430
Nor mine own name need here be hidden, nor a secret shall
long remain,
For the folk and the lands that know me, they call on me as
Gawain:
And fain would I do thee service, alike with my hand and
name,
If thou turnest here at my bidding, nor bringest upon me
shame!'

Then he quoth, 'Is it thou, O Gawain? too little I yet have
done 435
That thou shouldst as a friend entreat me; yet hast thou this
honour won
That all men thou gently treatest--and thy friendship I here
will take,
Yet not for mine own deserving, but repayment I fain would
make.
Now say where thine army lieth, since so many tents I see
That stand fair by the brink of the river? If King Arthur in
truth shall be 440
So near, then must I bemoan me, that in honour I may not dare
To enter his royal presence, or look on his queen so fair.
Since 'tis meet that I first avenge me of a foul and
discourteous blow,
For which, since the day I left them, I sorrow and shame must
know.
For a maiden as she beheld me, laughed sweetly, the seneschal 445
For my sake smote the maid so sorely, 'twas a wood that upon
her fell.'

'Rough vengeance thou here hast taken! (Gawain to the Waleis
spake)
Since thou in a joust hast felled him, and right arm and left
leg he brake.
Ride here, see his charger lifeless, that lieth the stone
below;
On the snowdrift behold the splinters of the spear that hath
dealt the blow! 450
'Tis the spear thou but now wast seeking!' Then the truth
knew Sir Parzival,
And straightway he spake unto Gawain, 'Now, if this be the
seneschal,
And the man who so sorely shamed me, if thou swear me that
this was he,
Thou mayst ride where thou wilt, and gladly will I ride in
thy company!'
'Nay, never a lie do I tell thee,' quoth Gawain, 'thou hast
overthrown 455
Segramor, who ere now in battle was ever as victor known,
He fell ere yet Kay had met thee: great deeds hast thou done
to-day,
Since o'er two of our bravest heroes the prize thou hast
borne away.'

So rode they, the one with the other, the Waleis and Knight
Gawain,
And the folk, both afoot and on horseback, with honour would
greet the twain, 460
Gawain and his guest the Red Knight, this did they of
courtesy,
And the twain to his fair pavilion they gat them right
speedily.
And the lady, fair Kunnewaaré, whose tent by Gawain's did
stand,
Rejoiced, and she joyful greeted the hero, whose strong right
hand
Had failed not to wreak stern vengeance for the ill that Kay
wrought that day; 465
Then her brother and fair Jeschuté she led by the hand
straightway,
And Parzival looked upon them as the three to his tent drew
near,
And his face, thro' the rust of his armour, it shone ever
fair and clear,
As roses dew-dipped had flown there: his harness aside he
laid,
And he stood before Kunnewaaré, and thus spake the gentle
maid: 470

'To God shalt thou first be welcome, as welcome thou art to
me,
Since thy manhood thou well hast proven, and the faith that I
had in thee!
Ere the day that my heart beheld thee, nor laughter nor
smiles I knew,
And Kay, who in that hour smote me, with stern hand my
gladness slew.
But now hast thou well avenged me! With a kiss I thy deed
would pay, 475
If I of thy kiss were worthy!' 'Nay, so had I thought to-day
To crave of thy lips my payment,' quoth Parzival, 'if thou
still
Wilt give me such gracious greeting, right gladly I'll do thy
will!'

Then she kissed him, and down they sate them, and the
princess a maiden sent
And bade her to bring rich raiment; so sped she unto the
tent; 480
And the garments they lay there ready, of rich silk of
Nineveh,
For her prisoner, King Klamidé, had she fashioned them
cunningly.
Then the maiden who bare the garments, full sorely must she
bewail
That the mantle was yet unfinished, since the silken cord did
fail.
Then the lady, Kunnewaaré, from her side drew a silken band 485
From the folds of her robe, in the mantle she wove it with
skilful hand.

Then courteous her leave he prayed him, the rust would he
wash away,
And fair shone his face, and youthful, and his lips they were
red that day.
And robed was the gallant hero, and so bright and so fair was
he,
That all men who there beheld him, they sware he for sure
must be 490
The flower and the crown of manhood, a knight without shame
or fear;
And they looked upon him, and they praised him and his colour
waxed bright and clear,
And right well did his garb become him; an emerald green and
rare,
The gift of fair Kunnewaaré, as clasp at his neck he bare;
And a girdle beside she gave him, all wrought in a cunning
row 495
With mystic beasts, bejewelled, that burnt with a fiery glow,
And its clasp was a red-fire ruby--How think ye the beardless
youth
Was seen when thus richly girded? Fair was he in very sooth,
For so the story runneth--the folk bare him right goodwill,
Men and women who looked upon him, they counted him worthy
still. 500

Forthwith, as the Mass was ended, came Arthur the noble king,
And the knights of his Table with him, a goodly following.
No man there whose lips spake falsehood. Yea, all heard the
word that day,
'With Gawain the Red Knight dwelleth!' the king thither took
his way.

Then the knight who so sore was beaten came swiftly, Sir
Antanor, 505
For, fain to behold the Waleis, his feet sped the king
before,
And he asked, 'Art thou he who avenged me, and the lady of
fair Lalande?
Now vanished shall be Kay's honour, for it falleth unto thine
hand,
And an end hast thou made of his threatening, and the days of
his strife are o'er,
For his arm it is weak, and his vengeance I fear for it never
more!' 510

And so fair was the knight and radiant, that all men beheld
his face
As an angel from heaven, that wingless, abideth on earth a
space.
And well did King Arthur greet him, and his knights were no
whit behind,
And all they who looked upon him, naught but love in their
hearts might find,
And their lips to their heart made answer, and all spake to
his praises, 'Yea,' 515
And no man gainsaid the other, so lovely his mien that day!

Then Arthur spake fair unto him, 'Thou hast wrought me both
joy and pain,
Yet ne'er from the hand of a hero such honour I thought to
gain
As the honour that thou hast brought me! yet no service I did
to thee,
An I did, then thy fame had repaid it, tho' no other thy
deeds should be 520
Than the deed thou hast done in the winning for Jeschuté her
husband's grace!
Nor Kay's guilt had been unavengèd, if ere this I had seen
thy face
Myself had, unasked, chastised him.' Then Arthur in this wise
spake,
'Since so far they had come, and their journey had they taken
but for his sake,
They all with one voice did pray him, to swear to them
brotherhood, 525
And be one of the gallant Table, a comrade both true and
good.'
And their prayer it seemed good unto him, and joyful at heart
was he,
And he sware them the oath that they asked for, and their
knight would he gladly be.

Now hear ye, and speak the verdict, if on this day the Table
Round
Its right, and its due observance had here, as aforetime
found; 530
Since for many a day King Arthur in this wise had ruled his
court,
No knight should break bread before him, if there came of
fair venture naught.
But enough should have chanced this morning, and to Table
they well might go,
Though from Nantes might they never bear it, yet they here
would its semblance show.
Wide enow was the flowery meadow, nor hindered them tree or
tent, 535
As they did here their monarch's bidding--for this was his
heart's intent,
Fair honour to give the Red Knight, and his valour, as meet,
reward--
Then a silk in Acraton woven, they laid on the grassy sward,
'Twas brought from far lands of paynim, and 'twas shapen both
wide and round;
For ever this courteous custom mid these gallant knights was
found, 540
No high seat had they of honour, but all men were equal
there;
And thus had King Arthur willed it, both the knights and
their ladies fair
At the Table Round were welcome, yea, an they might honour
claim,
Knight, lady, or gentle maiden, at his court all should fare
the same!

And there, with her maiden following, came fair Guinevere the
queen, 545
And many a noble princess amid her train was seen,
And none but was fair to look on, and the ring it was spread
so wide
That within, without strife or crowding, each maid sat her
knight beside.
And Arthur, who ne'er knew falsehood, led the Waleis by the
hand,
And Kunnewaaré she walked beside him, the lady of fair
Lalande, 550
From sorrow the knight had freed her--Then, with kind and
friendly eyes,
Looked Arthur upon the hero, and he spake to him in this
wise:

'My queen will I bid to kiss thee, who art fair both of form
and face,
For ne'er, in this court, of lady I ween wouldst thou crave
this grace,
Since from Pelrapär thou hast ridden, and wert thou on
kissing bent 555
From lips of all lips the fairest, hast thou there thy full
heart's content!
Yet this one grace will I pray thee, if ever there dawn the
day
That I find 'neath thy roof abiding, this kiss I may then
repay!'
'In sooth, will I do thy bidding,' quoth the Waleis, 'both
there and here!'
Then unto the gallant hero stepped the Lady Guinevere, 560
And fair on the lips she kissed him, and she quoth, 'Here I
pardon thee
The ill thou aforetime didst me, and the sorrow thou gavest
me.
Thou didst leave me sorely grieving, when from hence thou
didst ride away.
By thy hand and thy dart my kinsman Prince Ither was slain
that day!'

And all tear-bedewed were the eyelids of the Lady Guinevere, 565
For Prince Ither's death wrought sorrow unto many a woman
dear.
Now must King Klamidé seat him, on the bank by Plimizöl,
And beside him sate Iofreit, who was son unto King Idöl;
And 'twixt Klamidé and Gawain must the Waleis have his
place--
And they know who tell the venture, none sate here of royal
grace, 570
None who woman's breast had suckled, whose fame stood so high
and fair,
For courage and youthful beauty did the Waleis, as jewels,
wear.
And they owned, who there looked upon him, that many a maiden
bright
Saw herself in a darker mirror than the lips of this fair
young knight.
And on cheek and on chin his colour might well as fetters be 575
For those who should need such fetters, whose fancy flitteth
free.
Here might there be naught of changing--(of women my rede I
trow
For some they are ever wavering, and ever new friendships
know!)
But his look ever constant held them, till I wot well that
thro' their eyes
His entry he gained triumphant, and made of their hearts his
prize! 580

Thus maiden and man beheld him, and his honour all men did
praise,
Till he found here the goal of sighing, and the end of his
joyous days.
For hither came one I must tell of, and faithful was she in
truth
Tho' discourteous her ways, and for sorrow, I ween, had she
little ruth!
And the folk for her message sorrowed--Now hear how the maid
must ride, 585
Her mule it was tall as a war-horse, and branded on either
side;
And its nostrils were slit as is custom in the far land of
Hungary,
Yet her harness and bridle were costly, with rich work
broidered cunningly.
Soft and slow paced her mule, yet the maiden was not as a
maid, I trow.
What sought she? She came as 'twas fated, and sorrow must
Arthur know. 590
And of wisdom forsooth this maiden might boast her a wondrous
store,
No tongue but she spake, French, Latin, and Paynim: in all
such lore
As men read in the highest heavens, Dialectics, Geometry,
In all was she courteous trainèd, and her name it was called
Kondrie.
'The sorceress' did men name her, nor her speech halted on
its way, 595
Too ready her tongue, since rejoicing she smote into grief
that day.

This maiden, so rich in wisdom, bare little of maiden grace,
No lover e'er praised her beauty, no tongue spake her fair of
face.
A tempest she, joy destroying, yet of bridal cloth from Ghent
Did she wear a mantle, bluer than azure the soft tints blent. 600
As a cap was it fairly fashioned, such as maidens in France
shall wear,
And beneath it, around her body, a silken robe she bare.
And a hat of the English peacock, with silk of orient lined,
And new was the hat, and the fastening, and it hung low the
maid behind.
And like to a bridge her message, that sorrow o'er joy had
crossed, 605
And shame enough did she bring them, till laughter in tears
was lost.

In a thick plait above her headgear had she flung her tresses
back,
And adown on the mule were they hanging, so long, and so
coarse, and black,
Nor softer to touch than the bristles, which swine on their
backs shall show.
And her nose as a dog's was shapen, and from out her mouth
did grow 610
Two tusks as had 'seemed a wild boar, a hand's-breadth long
were they;
And above her eyes the eyebrows as thick as plaits they lay.
And I speak but the truth, as I needs must, tho' my words
lack in courtesy
Since I speak of a maid, yet, for such cause, none other
reproacheth me.

And ears as a bear had Kondrie, and never the eye might trace 615
A shy glance of love, or of longing, I ween in that wondrous
face.
And a scourge did she bear, and the handle was a ruby, of
silk the cord;
And the hands of this winsome maiden like a lion's were
sharply clawed,
And the skin as an ape's was dusky, and the nails they were
not too light,
And I ween, for her maiden favours, but seldom would heroes
fight! 620

So rode she unto the circle, and her coming did sorrow bring,
And fair joy did she put in peril--Then turned she unto the
king,
(And Kunnewaaré sat beside him, his table-mate was she,
And fair Guinevere, his consort, a queen bare her company.)
Thus in royal state King Arthur as monarch sat that day-- 625
To the Breton king rode Kondrie, and in French did she speak
alway;
And tho' I in another language than hers shall the venture
tell,
Yet I rede ye to wit that the telling it pleaseth me none too
well!

'Thou son of high Pendragon, thyself, and thy Breton host,
By thy deed hast thou shamed--From all lands the noblest that
they might boast 630
Once sat here a gallant circle, but poisoned is now their
fame,
And thy Table Round dishonoured by traitor, and brought to
shame.
King Arthur, o'er all thy fellows, thy praises of old stood
high,
But it sinketh now, thy glory, and thy fame, that did swiftly
fly,
Henceforward goeth halting; thine honour doth seek the ground 635
Since it showeth stain of falsehood--The fame of thy Table
Round
It suffered for the friendship ye with Parzival did swear,
Tho' I wot well the outward token of a spotless knight he
bear.
"The Red Knight" ye here do call him, the name of one who lay
Dead before Nantes, yet I tell thee unlike in their life are
they! 640
For no mouth hath read of a hero whose fame knew nor fault
nor flaw,
As his!' From the king she turned her, and did rein by the
Waleis draw,

And she quoth, 'Now sore shalt thou rue it, since I, for thy
sake deny
My greeting unto King Arthur, and the knights of his company.
May thy fair face be dishonoured, and thy manhood I look on
here. 645
Of forgiveness and joy were I merchant, in sooth shouldst
thou buy them dear!
And I deem thou art but a monster, and myself shall far
fairer be!
Speak, Sir Parzival, as I bid thee, and this riddle read thou
to me,
When thou sawest the fisher sit there, joyless, of comfort
reft,
Why didst thou not loose his sighing? Why was he in bondage
left?' 650

'For he showed thee of his sorrow--Oh! thou false and
faithless guest,
For hadst thou had pity on him, his anguish had gotten rest.
I would that thy mouth might perish, yea, the tongue thy
mouth within,
For e'en as the heart the tongue is, in thine _heart_ is the
root of sin.
To Hell shalt thou be predestined, by the Ruler of Heaven
high, 655
And this be on earth thy portion, that true men thy face
shall fly.
And ban hast thou won for blessing, and for bliss shalt thou
find but bale,
For too late dost thou strive for honour, and thy striving
shall naught avail.
And so feeble shall wax thy manhood, and thy fame it shall be
so weak,
That never shall soul's physician the promise of healing
speak. 660
An one to the oath should drive me, on thine head were I fain
to swear,
That never a darker treason was wrought by a man so fair.
Thou hook in fair feathers hidden, bright serpent with
poisoned fang,
Who ne'er of the sword was worthy, which thine host at thy
side did hang!
The goal of thy sins, this thy silence, of Hell's horde art
thou now the sport, 665
And dishonour upon thy body, Sir Parzival, hast thou wrought.
Saw'st thou not how they bare before thee the Grail, and the
bleeding spear,
And sharp silver? Thy joy's destruction, and thy shelter from
grief were here!'

'Yea, hadst thou but asked at Monsalväsch; afar, in a heathen
land,
Rich o'er all earthly riches, doth the town of Tabronit
stand; 670
Yet the riches thy speech had won thee had been greater far,
I ween--
And with gallant strife of knighthood the hand of that
country's queen
Feirefis Angevin hath won him: no fear doth his manhood
stain;
One father, I ween, hath borne ye, yet unlike shall ye be, ye
twain.
And thy brother is strange to look on, for both white and
black his face, 675
And at Zassamank he reigneth o'er the folk of his mother's
race.'