Chapter VII: Book III: Gurnemanz (2)

Now Sir Antanor the Silent, who thro' silence a fool was
thought,
(His speech and the maiden's laughter on a self-same thread
were wrought)
For never a word would he utter till she laughed whom Kay
thus did smite, 680
As clear rang the maiden's laughter, aloud spake the silent
knight,
'Now here before God I tell thee, Kunnewaaré of fair Lalande
Thou hast wronged for that lad, and thy guerdon awaiteth thee
at his hand,
Nor so weak shall he be, nor so foolish, but he turneth thy
bliss to bale!'
'And thy speech thou hast found but to threaten for joy shall
it naught avail.' 685
His food would he make full bitter.--Kay smote him upon the
ear
With his fist till naught but a singing and a whispering
might he hear.
And Parzival saw the sorrow of the maiden and Antanor,
And his heart was hot for their shaming, and grief for their
sake he bore,
And he grasped his javelin tightly, but the throng pressed so
close around 690
That perforce the dart must he lower, lest some other aim it
found.

Thus alone from the court of King Arthur rode the son of
Gamuret,
And he came to the plain where the Red Knight his foeman
awaited yet;
And he bare unto him the tidings how in Nantes was there
never a knight
Whose heart yet yearned for jousting, or who lusted with him
to fight. 695
'But a gift King Arthur gave me--I spake as thou saidst
before,
That without thy will had it chanced thee the wine o'er the
queen to pour,
Thy discourtesy sorely vexed thee--They think not to fight
with thee.
Now give me the steed thou ridest, and thine harness give
thou to me,
They were given me in the palace, therein shall I be a
knight, 700
Wouldst withhold them, I will not greet thee--Yield thou what
is mine of right!'

Then the King of Cumberland answered, 'If Arthur hath given
to thee
Mine armour, my _life_ he gave thee, if that life thou canst
take from me,
So well doth he love his kinsmen! Hath he known thee before
to-day,
That so swiftly the service done him with such guerdon he
would repay?' 705

'I may win what I will I trow me, of a sooth had he given me
more;
Now leave thou thy claim on his kingdom--'Tis time I a
knight's shield bore
For _squire_ will I be no longer!' He laid on the rein his
hand
'Thou art Lähelein, so I think me, who hath taken from me my
land!'

Then the knight he turned his spear-shaft, and he struck with
so true a blow 710
That the lad and his sorry charger on the meadow he laid them
low,
And the hero was swift in his anger, and he smote with a will
so good
That there where the spear-shaft struck him there sprang
forth bright drops of blood.
Then Parzival sprang up swiftly and stood wrathful upon his
feet
And he grasped his javelin firmly--Where the helm and the
visor meet 715
And betwixt the twain is an opening, there the javelin
swiftly sped
And thro' eye and neck it struck him, and the knight on the
plain lay dead.
Fierce foe had he been to falsehood; women's sighs, true
hearts wounded sore,
Were the fruit of his death, and with tear-drops must many an
eye run o'er.
And they whom his love made joyful their gladness asunder
brake, 720
And their joy to the goal of sorrow o'er a rough road its way
must take.

Then Parzival in his folly turned the dead knight o'er and
o'er,
For fain would he loose his armour, yet was lacking the
needful lore.
He fingered both helm and corslet with his bare white hands
alone,
Yet the fastening he failed to loosen, nor with force might
they be undone 725
Tho' oft and again he tried them, who in wisdom was all
untaught.
Then the horses they neighed so loudly that the sound on the
breeze was brought
To Iwanet's ear, and he heard them, by the city moat he
stood,
(To Queen Guinevere was he kinsman, and he did to her service
good)
He heard the cry of the horses, but naught of the riders saw, 730
As his true heart would give him counsel, Parzival did he
seek once more.

And Ither lay dead; and his slayer by his folly was vexed
amain--
Then swiftly he sprang to aid him, and Parzival thanks must
gain
For the honour he here had won him o'er the hero of
Cumberland:
'God reward thee, but give me counsel for skill here doth
fail mine hand, 735
How best may I loose this armour which myself I were fain to
wear?'
'Such lore I right well may teach thee,' quoth Iwanet the
proud and fair,
So the armour was reft from the dead man, 'fore Nantes on the
grassy plain,
And they did it upon the living, o'er whose dealings did
folly reign.

Quoth Iwanet, 'These leather leggings fit not with the mailèd
gear, 740
As a _knight_ shalt thou now be clothèd,' and the lad deemed
it ill to hear;
Quoth Parzival, 'What my mother aforetime hath given me
That cometh not from my body, or for good or for ill it be!'
And much did Iwanet marvel, for clever was he i' troth,
Yet he followed perforce his bidding, nor waxed at his folly
wroth. 745
And he drew above the leggings the hosen of shining mail,
Nor the spurs with red gold in-wroughten should unto the
harness fail,
And of silk and gold the laces, nor leather might there be
found.
Ere he gave unto him the corslet he bound him with greaves
around,
And tho' o'er-long Parzival deemed it yet the time was
swiftly sped, 750
Ere in knightly armour shining he clad him from foot to head.
Then the lad would have ta'en his quiver, but Iwanet he spake
out free,
'Nay, no javelin will I give thee, unknightly such arms shall
be!'
Then he girt the sharp sword around him, and he showed how to
draw the blade,
And he bade him ne'er fly in battle, nor in conflict to be
dismayed. 755
Then nearer he led unto him the charger the dead knight rode,
And 'twas tall and strong, yet the saddle the youth with one
spring bestrode,
He recked not the weight of his armour, and of stirrups had
little need--
E'en to-day do men speak of his swiftness, and the fame of
his mighty deeds.

Nor o'er-much did Iwanet think it to teach him with fitting
skill 760
To hold his shield and to guard him, while he wrought to his
foeman ill;
And a spear in his hand he gave him--But Parzival turned
aside,
'Nay, nay, what good may that do me?' 'If a joust one with
thee would ride
Thou shalt on thy foeman break it, perchance drive it thro'
his shield,
If thou doest that oft, 'fore the maidens will they praise
thee for well-fought field.' 765

And this hath the venture told me,--Not in Maestricht, or
e'en Cologne
Might a painter so fair a picture as this lad and his steed
have shown.
Then straightway he spake to Iwanet, 'My friend and companion
dear,
The boon that I asked have I won me, of that art thou witness
here.
My service bear thou to the city, to Arthur the noble king, 770
And mourn unto him my shaming--This cup thou again shalt
bring,
And tell him a knight hath wronged me, since he smote that
maiden fair
Who looked, and who laughed upon me, and grief for her grief
I bear.
Nor hath it but lightly touched me, it hath pierced to my
inmost heart
This maid's woe all undeservèd--Now do thou in her shame have
part 775
Thro' the friendship that thou hast shown me! God keep thee
in peace alway,
And watch o'er us twain, for I think me no longer I here may
stay!'

And Ither the prince of Gaheviess on the plain had he
lifeless left,
E'en in death was he fair to look on who was thus of fair
life bereft.
If in joust by a spear-thrust pierced he thro' knighthood his
death must gain 780
Who had mourned for the grief and the marvel? By a javelin he
here was slain.
Then Iwanet he strewed above him a covering of blossoms
bright,
And he smote the shaft of the javelin in the ground by the
fallen knight,
And that lad so true and faithful, he pierced with the
crimson blade
A bough of wood, and in this wise a cross o'er the dead man
made. 785
Then he gat him again to the city, and the heavy tidings
told;
And from many a trembling woman, and from many a hero bold
Rose the wail of love and of sorrow; and the dead would they
fetch in state,
And the Host they bare before her, as the queen passed the
city gate.

Then o'er Cumberland's prince and hero, who by Parzival's
hand was slain, 790
Queen Guinevere spake in sorrow while her tear-drops they
flowed amain,
'Alas! alas! for broken in twain is King Arthur's might,
For he whom the good Round Table accounted its bravest knight
Here slain before Nantes he lieth! His heritage did he claim
Where men gave him death for his guerdon--For naught marred
his knightly fame; 795
Here long hath he dwelt among us in such wise that never an
ear
The tale of a deed unknightly, or wrong he had done, might
hear.
He held him afar from falsehood, to guile was he aye a foe;
The lock and the seal of knighthood all too soon must we bury
low.
His heart wise in courteous wisdom, and steadfast as seal and
sign, 800
Taught him ever the fairest counsel that a man's heart might
aye divine,
Whereby with true love and courage a man woman's love may woo
And show manhood's truth--Fruit-bearing it seedeth itself
anew
The plant of all woman's sorrow! From thy wounds grief shall
ever grow--
So red was thy hair that the blossoms that bloom here thy
corse below 805
Scarce redder may be with thy life-blood--All laughter hast
thou forbid
To fair women, and joy and gladness by thy death are for ever
hid.'

Thus Ither, beloved of all men, as a king in the grave was
laid,--
With his life must he pay for his armour who taught sighing
to many a maid,
Since Parzival in his folly for the harness his death had
sought, 810
Hereafter, when he won wisdom, he scarcely such deed had
wrought!

NOW this might ye mark in the charger, great labour it held
as naught,
Were it hot, were it cold, no journey the sweat on its coat
had brought;
It sped over stone or tree-trunk, and scarce was there need
to draw
The girth by one hole the tighter if the knight for two days
it bore. 815
So fully armed, in his folly yet further he rode that day
Than a wise man unarmed in two days if his steed he betimes
would stay.
And ever it onward galloped, and but seldom would walk or
trot,
How to check its speed by the bridle as yet Parzival knew
not.

Then he saw the roof of a castle rise fair in the evening
glow, 820
And the lad he thought in his folly that the towers from the
earth must grow
Since the one roof bare so many--And he thought Arthur sowed
such seed,
And he who could work such marvels were a holy man indeed!
Then he said, 'While at home I tarried ne'er looked I on
woodland field
That a crop so rich and so stately in growth might ever
yield; 825
I think me my mother's people their labour but little know,
For never too dry, I think me, is the soil where their seed
they sow!'--
Now Gurnemanz of Graharz of this mighty Burg was lord:
At his portal a spreading linden stood fair on the summer
sward,
Nor too long nor too wide was the meadow, and the horse and
the road they led 830
To where Parzival found him seated who of castle and land was
head.

Now weariness sore constrained him, nor his shield might he
rightly hold
But it backward and forward wavered as beseemed not a rider
bold.
And Prince Gurnemanz sat all lonely, and the boughs of the
linden tree
Gave shade as was meet to its master, the captain of
courtesy-- 835
And his life it fled from falsehood--Then e'en as should be
his right
He gave to the guest fair welcome, and with him stood nor
squire nor knight.

Then Parzival made him answer--In his folly he spake
straightway,
'My mother bade me seek counsel from an old man with locks of
grey;
For thy rede will I do thee service, for so did my mother
speak!' 840
'If here thou art come for counsel, and aid at my lips would
seek,
Thy favour thou still shalt leave me whatever my counsel be,
If thou will that thy prayer I hearken, and give rede as seem
best to me!'

Then the prince cast a yearling falcon from his hand and
aloft it flew,
And it winged its way to the castle, and its golden bells
rang true, 845
'Twas a messenger; and the pages came swiftly in garments
fair,
And he bade them to lead the guest in, and lodging as meet
prepare;
And the lad he spake in his folly, 'My mother she told me
true,
An thou follow an old man's counsel his rede shalt thou never
rue!

And the pages they led him straightway where stood many a
gallant knight, 850
And there in the castle courtyard from his steed did they bid
him light.
Spake the youth, and he showed his folly, 'Tis a King who
hath bidden me
Be a knight, and whate'er befall me on this charger my seat
shall be.
My mother she bade me greet ye!' And mother they thanked and
son,
(Both horse and man were wearied) then, the words of greeting
done, 855
Full many a time they urged him, but it cost them many a
thought
Ere the lad within the castle, and from off his steed they
brought.
Then they led him to a chamber, and they prayed the stranger
guest,
'Let us loose thine harness off thee, that thy wearied limbs
find rest.'

But scarce had they loosed his armour when lo! there came to
view 860
A garment e'en such as Fools wear, and leggings of calf-skin
new;
Then startled and shamed they turned them, and they whispered
each to all,
And with bated breath the tidings ran swift through the
castle hall,
And the host for shame was speechless--But a knight spake in
courtesy,
'Let that be as it may, one so noble mine eyes they might
never see, 865
And Good Fortune hath looked upon him by his mien so high and
fair--
Ah! he whom Love's light hath chosen, who bade him such garb
to wear?
And it grieveth me sore to find thus on the World's Joy such
poor attire.
Ah! well for the mother who bare him, she hath won her full
heart's desire!
And his helmet is decked so costly; ere his harness from him
we took 870
It became him well, and knightly and noble I ween his look,
And many a bruise and blood-stain the lad on his limbs doth
bear.'
Quoth the host, ''Tis perchance a woman who bade him such
garb to wear!'
'Nay, Sire, for so strange his bearing he would know not a
maid to pray
To take from him knightly homage,--Tho' his face is so fair
alway 875
It had fitted him well for Love's service.' Then the host
spake, ''Tis best we see
This lad, in whose strange attiring a marvel for sure shall
be!'

Then to Parzival they betook them, and they found that a
wound he bare
From a spear that was never shattered, and the host for his
hurts would care,
And so kindly I ween his tending that a father, whose
heartfelt love 880
To his children, found no denial, his faith might no better
prove.
And he washed his wounds and bound them, the prince, with his
own right hand,
Ere forth to the hall he led him where the evening meal
should stand.

And food the guest sore needed, and hungry was he alway,
From the house of the fisherman fasting had he ridden at
break of day, 885
And his wound and the heavy harness which he before Nantes
had won
Wrought him weariness sore and hunger ere ever the ride was
done.
For from Arthur the King of the Bretons the whole day he
needs must ride,
Nor his fast at the Court had broken, and now it was
eventide.
Then the host bade him eat at his table, and Parzival did his
will, 890
And the food it swiftly vanished, as if one would a manger
fill!
And Gurnemanz was well pleasèd, and ever the lad did pray
To eat as he would, and his hunger and weariness put away.

When 'twas time, and the meal was ended, 'Now weary art thou,
I ween,'
Quoth the host to his guest, 'If this morning betimes thou
a-foot hast been?' 895
'God knoweth my mother slumbered, so early she ne'er doth
wake.'
Then the host he laughed, and he led him where rest he right
well might take,
And he bade him disrobe, tho' unwilling, he needs must--An
ermine fair
They cast o'er his naked body,--fairer fruit never woman
bare!

By weariness taught to slumber, but seldom throughout the
night 900
On his other side did he turn him, he might well wait the
morning light.
Then the prince he bade his servants ere ever 'twas middle
day,
A bath, as was meet, make ready by the couch where the young
knight lay,
And roses they threw within it--And tho' he no call might
hear
The guest awoke from his slumbers, and he stepped in the
waters clear. 905
I know not who sent them hither, but maidens richly dressed,
Lovely and sweet to look on, all courteous sought the guest,
They washed his wounds and bound them with their hands so
soft and white,
(Nor should this o'er strange have seemed him who was reft of
wisdom's might)
And both ease he felt and gladness, nor his folly they made
him rue-- 910
Thus these fair and gentle maidens they tended the lad anew,
And they spake 'twixt themselves, and he hearkened, yet never
a word would say,
Yet too early he might not deem it, for they shone as a
second day,
And their beauty it vied with the morning, yet his fairness
outshone the twain,
For naught to the youth was lacking that favour and praise
might gain. 915
Then a linen cloth they proffered, but the lad he took it
ill,
An he robed himself before them, their presence should shame
him still.
Perforce must the maidens leave him, nor longer might linger
there
Tho' in sooth they would fain have questioned lest deeper the
wounds he bare.
(For such was the way of woman, and such is true woman's
will, 920
Tho' scatheless themselves yet the sorrow of a friend it doth
work them ill.)

Then he strode to the bed, and he found there fresh raiment
so fine and white,
With a girdle he bound it round him, 'twas of silk and of
gold so bright;
And hosen of scarlet woollen they drew on the fearless
knight,
In sooth they well became him who was comely in all men's
sight. 925
And of ruddy brown well fashioned, (nor lining they thought
to spare)
Were robe alike and mantle, and within was the ermine fair,
And without were they decked with sable, both black and grey
in hue;
Then the gallant youth the mantle around his shoulders threw,
With a belt so rich and costly he girt him found the waist, 930
And the fastening of the mantle with a golden clasp was
graced.

And his mouth was red and glowing--Then his host he drew
anigh,
And many a proud knight followed, to greet him courteously,
And e'en as 'twas done the heroes they spake with a great
amaze
'Ne'er saw they a man so goodly!'--And all would the mother
praise 935
Who such son to the world had given--And in truth and in
courtesy
They spake, 'Whatsoe'er he asketh for his service fulfilled
shall be,
And favour and love await him if his worth win its meed
alway,'
And of those who hereafter saw him none were there who said
them nay.

By his hand the host then took him, and forth from his
chamber led, 940
And the prince fain would hear the story how the night hours
with him had sped,
'Were it otherwise, I think me that living I scarce might
wake,
'Twas well that my mother bade me thus shelter with thee to
take
Ere yet from her I had ridden--May God requite ye both,
For mercy Sir Knight, and kindness, hast thou shown to me
nothing loth.' 945
So went our hero witless where to God and the host they'd
sing,
And the prince by the Mass would teach him that which health
to the soul shall bring.
He would rede him well of the Offering--How to sign himself
with the Cross,
And thus work on the Devil vengeance, who seeketh for aye our
loss!

Then again to the hall of the castle and the morning meal
they came, 950
And the host set his guest beside him, and he ate without
fear or shame.
Then out spake the prince so courteous, 'An it seemeth not
ill to thee,
Fain am I to know thy dwelling, and from whence thou art come
to me?'
Then frankly he told the story how his mother's side he fled,
Of the ring and the clasp so golden, and the winning the
harness red. 955
And the prince he knew the Red Knight, and his fate it
pleased him ill,
And the name of his guest he asked not but 'The Red Knight'
he called him still.

Then e'en as the meal was over, were they tamed the ways so
wild,
For the host to his guest he quoth thus 'Thou speakest as
doth a child,
Why hold not thy peace of thy mother, and otherwise turn thy
speech? 960
An thou follow henceforth my counsel far wiser the ways I'll
teach!'

'And thus I begin, do thou hearken--From true shame shalt
thou never flee,
A shameless man, bethink thee, what place in the world hath
he?
As a bird that moulteth ever so his honour doth fall away,
And hereafter he hath his portion in the fires of Hell for
aye.' 965

'So noble methinks thy bearing, a folk's Lord thou well mayst
be;
If high be thy birth, and yet higher the lot that awaiteth
thee,
Then see that thy heart hath pity for the poor and needy man
And fight thou against his sorrow with free gifts as best
thou can,
For a true knight must aye be humble--A brave man who need
doth know 970
Full often with shame he battles, and sore is that strife I
trow,
For him shall thy help be ready--(Who lighteneth his
brother's need
From Heaven he winneth favour as rewarding for righteous
deed.)
For in sooth his case is harder than theirs who as beggars
stand
'Neath the window, and succour seeking, for bread shall
stretch forth the hand.' 975
'Thou shalt learn in a fitting measure both rich and poor to
be,
Who spendeth as lord at all times no lordly soul hath he--
Yet who heapeth o'er-much his treasure he winneth methinks
but shame,
But give thou unto each their honour, so best shalt thou
guard thy fame.'

'I saw well as thou earnest hither that thou hadst of my
counsel need-- 980
Yield not unto ways discourteous but give to thy bearing
heed,
_Nor be thou so swift to question_--Yet I would not that thou
withhold
An answer good and fitting to the speech one with thee would
hold.
Thou canst hear and see, I wot well full five shalt thy
senses be,
An thou use them aright, then wisdom it draweth anear to
thee.' 985

'In thy wrath remember mercy, and slay not a conquered foe,
He who to thine arms shall yield him take his pledge and let
him go;
Unless he such ill have wrought thee as sorrow of heart doth
give,
An my counsel thou fain wouldst follow, then in sooth shalt
thou let him live.'

'Full oft shalt thou bear thy harness--When thy knightly task
is sped 990
Thy hands and face thou shalt cleanse them from the rust and
the iron red,
For such is in truth thy duty, so thy face shall be fair and
bright,
And when maiden's eyes behold thee they shall deem thee a
goodly sight.'

'Be manly and of good courage, so shalt thou deserve thy
fame;
Hold women in love and honour, it shall be to thine own good
name; 995
And be ever steadfast-minded as befitteth good man and true,
An with lies thou wouldst fain deceive them much harm can thy
dealings do.
If true love be repaid with falsehood then swift shalt the
judgment be,
And a speedy end to all honour and renown shall it bring to
thee.
As beneath the stealthy footsteps of the thief the dry stick
breaks, 1000
And the slumbering watcher, startled, to his danger swiftly
wakes
So false ways and dealings crooked in their wake bring but
strife and woe;
Prove this by true love, for true women have skill 'gainst
the hidden foe,
And their wiles can outweigh his cunning--An thou winnest
from women hate,
Then for ever art thou dishonoured, and shame on thy life
shall wait.' 1005

'So take thou to heart my counsel--And more would I tell to
thee;
Husband and wife united as one shall they ever be,
As the sun that this morning shineth, and this morn that we
call to-day,
So the twain may be sundered never but _one_ shall be held
alway.
As twin blossoms from one root springing e'en so shall they
bloom and grow; 1010
With wisdom receive my counsel that its truth thou hereafter
know.'

Then he thanked his host for his teaching, nor spake of his
mother more,
But as true man and son so loving in his heart her memory
bore.

Then the prince spake as did him honour, 'Yet more will I
teach to thee,
Thou shalt learn knightly skill and bearing--In such wise
didst thou come to me, 1015
Full many a wall have I looked on that the shields might
better deck
Than that shield erewhile became thee, as it hung there
around thy neck.
None too late shall be the morning, we'll hence to the open
field,
And fitting skill I'll teach thee that thine arms thou mayst
rightly wield.
So bring to my guest his charger, and mine shalt thou hither
lead, 1020
And each knight shall make him ready, and mount, e'en as I,
his steed.
And pages shall thither follow, and each one shall bear a
spear,
And the shaft shall be strong and untested, and blazoned with
colours clear.'

So the prince and his guest together they rode to the grassy
plain,
And many a feat so skilful was shown by that knightly train. 1025
And the lad he learned how to check him his charger in
seeming flight
With touch of spur, and turn him once more 'gainst the
foeman's might;
His spear to sink as needed, and before him hold his shield
As he rode a joust; 'Thus shalt thou thine arms in future
wield!'

Thus of lack of skill he cured him better than by the bough 1030
That smiteth unruly children and breaketh their skin I trow.
Then he bade swift knights come hither, and a joust with the
stranger ride,
And himself to the ring he led him, and against the foe would
guide;
And the lad in his first joust carried his spear through the
foeman's shield,
And tho' strong was the knight yet he smote him from his
steed on the open field. 1035

And they marvelled much who beheld it--Then another to joust
rode near,
And Parzival took unto him a fresh and unbroken spear,
And his youth had strength and courage--The beardless lad and
fair
Was spurred by his inborn manhood, and to Gamuret's skill was
heir--
Then he urged his charger onward full swiftly against the
foe, 1040
And his spear rang true on the four nails, and struck nor too
high nor low,
Nor the host's knight might keep his saddle, but prone on the
sward he fell,
Of the spear-shaft full many a splinter the force of the blow
might tell.
Thus five of the knights were smitten ere the host to the
Burg would ride,
And the victory was his, and hereafter fierce strife might he
well abide. 1045

Then they who his deeds had witnessed, the wise men, they
needs must say
That great was the skill and valour he had shown in the joust
that day,
'Our lord may be free of sorrow, and his youth it may bloom
anew
If he give him to wife his daughter, our lady so fair and
true.
If we see him wax in wisdom then the sorrow shall be
o'erpast-- 1050
The death of his sons a shadow o'erlong o'er his life hath
cast,
But now to his door hath ridden one who maketh amends for
all,
And gladness no more shall fly him, but it seeketh his palace
hall!'

Then homeward they turned at even when the board for the
feast was spread,
And the prince bade his daughter hither (for so I the tale
have read) 1055
As he saw the maid draw near him the host to Liassé spake,
'To this knight shalt thou do all honour, and a kiss from his
lips shalt take,
With Good Fortune for guide he fareth! And of _thee_ would I
pray this thing,
If token perchance she beareth, thou wilt leave to the maid
her ring--
Yet none hath she, nor clasp--Who should give her what that
forest princess wore? 1060
For _she_ won from the hand of her husband what thine hand
from her raiment tore,
From _Liassé_ canst thou take little'--Then the lad he must
blush for shame,
On her lips did kiss the maiden, and her mouth it was red as
flame.
And Liassé was fair to look on, and gentle of heart and pure,
And a hero might well have loved her with a love that should
aye endure. 1065

Full long and low was the table, nor many might sit thereat,
At its head was the prince so kindly, and his guest by his
side he set
Betwixt him and his daughter, and the maiden with snow-white
hand
Must carve, as he willed, for the Red Knight, so her father
would give command,
And courteous, she did his bidding, and none did the twain
prevent 1070
As shy glances rosy-blushing, they each to the other sent!

The feast over, the maiden left them, but she bade not the
guest 'Farewell,'
For twice seven days in honour Parzival with his host did
dwell.
But within his heart lay a sorrow, 'twas no other I ween than
this,
He would he enough had striven to be worthy of wedded bliss, 1075
And he thought him a goal so worthy must lead to a guerdon
high
Both in this life and e'en in the other--And these words they
shall be no lie.

One morning for leave he prayed him, from Graharz he fain
would ride,
And his host, sore loth to lose him, awhile rode his steed
beside.
Fresh sprang of grief the fountain as the prince spake, 'I
lose once more 1080
A son, Death of _three_ hath robbed me, thy loss now shall
make them _four_.
And threefold it was, my sorrow--Who my heart would in pieces
smite
Fourfold and from hence would bear them, in the pain should I
find delight.
_One_ for thee, since thou ridest from me, and _three_ for my
three sons slain--
Bravely they fell in battle, such guerdon doth knighthood
gain!' 1085

'And its end is of sorrow woven--One death all my joy doth
lame,
The death of my son so gallant, Schenteflur did they call his
name;
When Kondwiramur her kingdom and herself would withhold with
strife
From Klamidé the king, and Kingron, in her aid did he lose
his life,
And my heart with the thrust of sorrow, as a hedge is it
piercèd thro'. 1090
Now all too soon dost thou leave me since no comfort from
thee I drew,
Ah! would Death were here my portion since Liassé, that
maiden bright,
And the land I had deemed so goodly find no favour in this
thy sight!'

'My other son, Count Laskoit, by Idêr son of Noit was slain
Anent a hawk--Little gladness from his death I methinks might
gain-- 1095
Gurzgrei did they call my third son, to whom Mahaut gave her
heart,
As his wife did he win the maiden from her brother proud
Ekunât.
'Gainst Brandigan on a venture for Schoie-de-la-kurt he'ld
ride,
And the Prince Mabonagrein smote him, and there by his hand
he died.
And Mahaut she lost her beauty, and his mother, my wife, lay
dead, 2000
For thro' sorrow and bitter yearning the days of her life
were sped.'

Then the guest saw his host's deep sorrow as he told unto him
his woe,
And he quoth, 'Little wisdom have I, yet if ever the day I
know
When I win knightly fame and honour, so that maiden I well
may woo,
Thou shalt give unto me Liassé, thy daughter so fair and
true. 2005
Thou hast told me of o'er-much sorrow; if thy grief I may
lift from thee
From the load of so sore a burden I gladly will set thee
free!'

Then leave from the prince so kindly the young knight that
morn would pray,
And from all his gallant vassals; and he rode from their land
away;
And the prince, in the game of sorrow, tho' heavy before his
throw, 2010
Had lost yet more, for from threefold to fourfold his grief
must grow.

BOOK IV

KONDWIRAMUR

ARGUMENT

BOOK IV. tells how Parzival came to Pelrapär, and found it besieged by sea and land, and the folk wasted by famine. How Queen Kondwiramur besought his aid; how he overthrew Kingron, and sent him to the court of King Arthur. How Parzival wedded the Queen; and of the wrath of King Klamidé when he heard the tidings. How the Burgers defended Pelrapär against their foemen; how Klamidé challenged Parzival to single combat, and was overthrown; and how he came to the court of King Arthur at Dianasdron. Of the love of Parzival and Kondwiramur; and how the hero parted from his wife, and went in search of knightly venture.