Parzival_ A Knightly Epic (vol. 1 of 2) von Eschenbach Wolfram 1959 downloads.pdf

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Parzival: A Knightly Epic
(vol. 1 of 2)
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will
have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using
this eBook.

Title: Parzival: A Knightly Epic (vol. 1 of 2)

Author: von Eschenbach Wolfram

Translator: Jessie L. Weston

Release date: November 6, 2014 [eBook #47297]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47297

Credits: Produced by Richard Tonsing, The Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PARZIVAL: A
KNIGHTLY EPIC (VOL. 1 OF 2) ***

PARZIVAL
VOL. I
BOOKS I.-IX.

PARZIVAL

A KNIGHTLY EPIC

BY

WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH

TRANSLATED BY

JESSIE L. WESTON

VOL. I

ANASTATIC REPRINT OF THE EDITION LONDON 1894.

NEW YORK
G. E. STECHERT & CO.,
1912.

TO THE MEMORY OF
RICHARD WAGNER
WHOSE GENIUS HAS GIVEN FRESH LIFE
TO THE CREATIONS OF MEDIÆVAL ROMANCE
THIS TRANSLATION IS
DEDICATED

CONTENTS
BOOK PAGE
INTRODUCTION ix
I. GAMURET 1
II. HERZELEIDE 33
III. GURNEMANZ 63
IV. KONDWIRAMUR 101
V. ANFORTAS 127
VI. ARTHUR 157
VII. OBILOT 193
VIII. ANTIKONIE 227
IX. TREVREZENT 249
APPENDICES 289
NOTES 299

INTRODUCTION
n presenting, for the first time, to English readers the greatest
work of Germany's greatest mediæval poet, a few words of
introduction, alike for poem and writer, may not be out of
place. The lapse of nearly seven hundred years, and the
changes which the centuries have worked, alike in language
and in thought, would have naturally operated to render any work
unfamiliar, still more so when that work was composed in a foreign tongue;
but, indeed, it is only within the present century that the original text of the
Parzival has been collated from the MSS. and made accessible, even in its
own land, to the general reader. But the interest which is now felt by many
in the Arthurian romances, quickened into life doubtless by the genius of
the late Poet Laureate, and the fact that the greatest composer of our time,
Richard Wagner, has selected this poem as the groundwork of that
wonderful drama, which a growing consensus of opinion has hailed as the
grandest artistic achievement of this century, seem to indicate that the time
has come when the work of Wolfram von Eschenbach may hope to receive,
from a wider public than that of his own day, the recognition which it so
well deserves.
Of the poet himself we know but little, save from the personal allusions
scattered throughout his works; the dates of his birth and death are alike
unrecorded, but the frequent notices of contemporary events to be found in
his poems enable us to fix with tolerable certainty the period of his literary
activity, and to judge approximately the outline of his life. Wolfram's
greatest work, the Parzival, was apparently written within the early years of
the thirteenth century; he makes constant allusions to events happening, and
to works produced, within the first decade of that period; and as his latest
work, the Willehalm, left unfinished, mentions as recent the death of the
Landgrave Herman of Thuringia, which occurred in 1216, the probability
seems to be that the Parzival was written within the first fifteen years of the
thirteenth century. Inasmuch, too, as this work bears no traces of immaturity
in thought or style, it is probable that the date of the poet's birth cannot be
placed much later than 1170.

The name, Wolfram von Eschenbach, points to Eschenbach in Bavaria as in
all probability the place of his birth, as it certainly was of his burial. So late
as the end of the seventeenth century his tomb, with inscription, was to be
seen in the Frauen-kirche of Ober-Eschenbach, and the fact that within a
short distance of the town are to be found localities mentioned in his poems,
such as Wildberg, Abenberg, Trühending, Wertheim, etc., seems to show
that there, too, the life of the poet-knight was spent.
By birth, as Wolfram himself tells us, he belonged to the knightly order
(Zum Schildesamt bin Ich geboren), though whether his family was noble
or not is a disputed point, in any case Wolfram was a poor man, as the
humorous allusions which he makes to his poverty abundantly testify. Yet
he does not seem to have led the life of a wandering singer, as did his
famous contemporary, Walther von der Vogelweide; if Wolfram journeyed,
as he probably did, it was rather in search of knightly adventures, he tells
us: 'Durchstreifen muss Der Lande viel, Wer Schildesamt verwalten will,'
and though fully conscious of his gift of song, yet he systematically exalts
his office of knight above that of poet. The period when Wolfram lived and
sang, we cannot say wrote, for by his own confession he could neither read
nor write ('I'ne kan decheinen buochstap,' he says in Parzival; and in
Willehalm, 'Waz an den buochen steht geschrieben, Des bin Ich kunstelos
geblieben'), and his poems must, therefore, have been orally dictated, was
one peculiarly fitted to develop his special genius. Under the rule of the
Hohenstaufen the institution of knighthood had reached its highest point of
glory, and had not yet lapsed into the extravagant absurdities and unrealities
which characterised its period of decadence; and the Arthurian romances
which first found shape in Northern France had just passed into Germany,
there to be gladly welcomed, and to receive at the hands of German poets
the impress of an ethical and philosophical interpretation foreign to their
original form.
It was in these romances that Wolfram, in common with other of his
contemporaries, found his chief inspiration; in the Parzival, his master-
work, he has told again the story of the Quest for, and winning of, the Grail;
told it in connection with the Perceval legend, through the medium of
which, it must be remembered, the spiritualising influence of the Grail myth
first came into contact with the brilliant chivalry and low morality of the
original Arthurian romances; and told it in a manner that is as truly

mediæval in form as it is modern in interpretation. The whole poem is
instinct with the true knightly spirit; it has been well called Das Hohelied
von Rittertum, the knightly song of songs, for Wolfram has seized not
merely the external but the very soul of knighthood, even as described in
our own day by another German poet; Wolfram's ideal knight, in his fidelity
to his plighted word, his noble charity towards his fellow-man, lord of the
Grail, with Its civilising, humanising influence, is a veritable 'true knight of
the Holy Ghost.' In a short introduction such as this it is impossible to
discuss with any fulness the fascinating problems connected with this poem,
one can do no more than indicate where the principal difficulties lie. These
may be briefly said to be chiefly connected with the source from which
Wolfram derived his poem, and with the interpretation of its ethical
meaning. That Wolfram drew from a French source we know from his own
statement, he quotes as his authority a certain 'Kiot the Provençal,' who, in
his turn, found his information in an Arabian MS. at Toledo. Unfortunately
no such poet, and no such poem, are known to us, while we do possess a
French version of the story, Li Conte del Graal, by Chrêtien de Troyes,
which, so far as the greater part of the poem (i.e. Books III. to XIII.) is
concerned, shows a remarkable agreement not only in sequence of
incidents, but even in verbal correspondence, with Wolfram's work.
Chrêtien, however, does not give either the first two or the last three books
as we find them in Wolfram. The account of Perceval's father, and of his
death, is by another hand than Chrêtien's, and does not agree with
Wolfram's account; and the poem, left unfinished by Chrêtien, has been
continued and concluded at great length by at least three other writers, who
have evidently drawn from differing sources; whereas Wolfram's conclusion
agrees closely with his introduction, and his whole poem forms the most
harmonious and complete version of the story we possess. Wolfram knew
Chrêtien's poem, but refers to it with contempt as being the wrong version
of the tale, whereas 'Kiot' had told the venture aright. The question then is,
where did Wolfram really find those portions of his poems which he could
not have drawn from Chrêtien? Is 'Kiot' a real, or a feigned, source?
Some German critics have opined that Wolfram really knew no other poem
than Chrêtien's, and that he boldly invented all that he did not find there,
feigning another source in order to conceal the fact. Others have maintained
that whether 'Kiot' be the name of the writer or not, Wolfram certainly had
before him a French poem other than Li Conte del Graal.

It certainly seems in the highest degree improbable that a German poet
should have introduced the Angevin element, lacking in Chrêtien;
Wolfram's presentment of the Grail, too, differs in toto from any we find
elsewhere, with him it is not the cup of the Last Supper, but a precious
stone endowed with magical qualities. It is true that Chrêtien does not say
what the Grail was, but simply that 'du fin or esmeree estoit, pieres
pressieuses avoit el graal de maintes manieres,' yet it seems scarcely likely
that Wolfram should have interpreted this as a precious stone, to say nothing
of sundry Oriental features peculiar to his description. But whence Wolfram
derived his idea of the Grail is a problem which it is to be feared will never
now be completely solved.
The discussion as to the ethical meaning Wolfram attached to the story
seems more hopeful of results, as here we do possess the requisite data, and
can study the poem for ourselves. The question between critics is whether
Wolfram intended to teach a purely religious lesson or not; whether the
poem is an allegory of life, and Parzival a symbol of the Soul of man,
hovering between Faith and Doubt, perplexed by the apparent injustice of
God's dealings with men, and finally fighting its way through the darkness
of despair to the clear light of renewed faith in God; or have we here a
glorification of the knightly ideal? a declaration of the poet-knight's belief
that in loyal acceptance of, and obedience to, the dictates of the knightly
order, salvation is to be won? Can the true knight, even though he lack faith
in God, yet by keeping intact his faith with man, by very loyalty and
steadfastness of purpose, win back the spiritual blessing forfeited by his
youthful folly? Is Parzival one of those at whose hands 'the Kingdom of
Heaven suffereth violence'? It may well be that both these interpretations
are, in a measure, true, that Wolfram found the germ of the religious idea
already existing in his French source, but that to the genius of the German
poet we owe that humanising of the ideal which has brought the Parzival
into harmony with the best aspirations of men in all ages. This, at least, may
be said with truth, that of all the romances of the Grail cycle, there is but
one which can be presented, in its entirety, to the world of to-day with the
conviction that its morality is as true, its human interest as real, its lesson as
much needed now as it was seven hundred years ago, and that romance is
the Parzival of Wolfram von Eschenbach.

Some words as to the form of the original poem, and the method followed
in translation, may be of interest to the reader. The original Parzival is a
poem of some 25,000 lines, written in an irregular metre, every two lines
rhyming, reim-paar. Among modern German translators considerable
difference of opinion as to the best method of rendering the original appears
to exist. Simrock has retained the original form, and adheres very closely to
the text; his version certainly gives the most accurate idea of Wolfram's
style; San Marte has allowed himself considerable freedom in versification,
and, unfortunately, also in translation; in fact, he too often gives a
paraphrase rather than a reproduction of the text. Dr. Bötticher's translation
omits the Gawain episodes, and, though close to the original, has discarded
rhyme. It must be admitted that Wolfram is by no means easy to translate,
his style is obscure and crabbed, and it is often difficult to interpret his
meanings with any certainty. The translator felt that the two points chiefly
to be aimed at in an English version were, that it should be faithful to the
original text, and easy to read. The metre selected was chosen for several
reasons, principally on account of the length of the poem, which seemed to
render desirable a more flowing measure than the short lines of the original;
and because by selecting this metre it was possible to retain the original
form of reim-paar. As a general rule one line of the English version
represents two of the German poem, but the difference of language has
occasionally demanded expansion in order to do full justice to the poet's
meaning. Throughout, the translator's aim has been to be as literal as
possible, and where the differing conventionalities of the thirteenth and
nineteenth centuries have made a change in the form of expression
necessary, the meaning of the poet has been reproduced, and in no instance
has a different idea been consciously suggested. That there must of
necessity be many faults and defects in the work the writer is fully
conscious, but in the absence of any previous English translation she can
only hope that the present may be accepted as a not altogether inadequate
rendering of a great original; if it should encourage others to study that
original for themselves, and learn to know Wolfram von Eschenbach, while
at the same time they learn better to understand Richard Wagner, she will
feel herself fully repaid.

The translator feels that it may be well to mention here the works which
have been principally relied on in preparing the English translation and the
writers to whom she is mostly indebted.
For the Text Bartsch's edition of the original Parzival, published in
Deutsche Classiker des Mittelalters, has been used throughout, in
connection with the modern German translation by Simrock.
In preparing the Notes use has been made of Dr. Bötticher's Introduction to
his translation of the Parzival, and the same writer's Das Hohelied von
Rittertum; San Marte's translation has also been occasionally referred to.
The Appendix on proper names has been mainly drawn up from Bartsch's
article on the subject in Germanistische Studien; and that on the Angevin
allusions from Miss Norgate's England under the Angevin Kings, though the
statements have been verified by reference to the original chronicles.
For all questions connected with the Perceval legend in its varying forms
the authority consulted has been Studies on the Legend of the Holy Grail,
by Mr. Alfred Nutt, to whom, personally, the translator is indebted for much
valuable advice and assistance in preparing this book for publication.

BOOK I
GAMURET
ARGUMENT

In the Introduction the poet tells of the evil of doubt and
unsteadfastness—against which he would warn both men
and women; he will tell them a tale which shall speak of
truth and steadfastness, and in which many strange marvels
shall befall.
Book I. tells how Gamuret of Anjou at the death of his
father, King Gandein, refused to become his brother's vassal,
and went forth to seek fame and love-guerdon for himself.
How he fought under the Baruch before Alexandria, and
came to Patelamunt. How Queen Belakané was accused of
having caused the death of her lover Eisenhart, and was
besieged by two armies, which Friedebrand, King of
Scotland, Eisenhart's uncle, had brought against her. How
Gamuret defeated her foemen, and married the Queen, and
became King of Assagog and Zassamank. How he grew
weary for lack of knightly deeds, and sailed away in secret
from Queen Belakané, and left her a letter telling of his
name and race. How Feirifis was born, and how Gamuret
came to Seville.

BOOK I
GAMURET
If unfaith in the heart find dwelling, then the soul it shall
reap but woe;
And shaming alike and honour are his who such doubt shall
show,

For it standeth in evil contrast with a true man's dauntless
might,
As one seeth the magpie's plumage, which at one while is
black and white.
And yet he may win to blessing; since I wot well that in his
heart, 5
Hell's darkness, and light of Heaven, alike have their lot and
part
But he who is false and unsteadfast, he is black as the
darkest night,
And the soul that hath never wavered stainless its hue and
white!

This my parable so fleeting too swift for the dull shall be,
Ere yet they may seize its meaning from before their face
'twill flee,10
As a hare that a sound hath startled: yea, metal behind the
glass,
And a blind man's dream yield visions that as swift from the
eye do pass,
For naught shall they have that endureth! And at one while
'tis bright and sad,
And know of a truth that its glory but for short space shall
make ye glad.
And what man shall think to grip me, where no hair for his
grasp shall grow,15
In the palm of mine hand? The mystery of a close clasp he
sure doth know!

If I cry aloud in such peril, it 'seemeth my wisdom well.
Shall I look for truth where it fleeteth? In the fire that the
stream doth quell,
Or the dew that the sun doth banish? Ne'er knew I a man so
wise,
But was fain to learn the wisdom my fable doth ill disguise,
20

And the teaching that springeth from it: for so shall he ne'er
delay
To fly and to chase as shall fit him, to shun and to seek
alway,
And to give fitting blame and honour. He who knoweth the
twain to tell,
In their changing ways, then wisdom has tutored that man
right well.
And he sits not o'er-long at leisure, nor his goal doth he
overreach,25
But in wisdom his ways discerning, he dealeth with all and
each.
But his comrade, of heart unfaithful, in hell-fire shall his
portion be,
Yea, a hailstorm that dims the glory of a knightly fame is he.
As a short tail it is, his honour, that but for two bites holds
good,
When the steer by the gad-fly driven doth roam thro' the
lonely wood.30

And tho' manifold be my counsel not to men alone I'ld
speak,
For fain would I show to women the goal that their heart
should seek.
And they who shall mark my counsel, they shall learn where
they may bestow
Their praise and their maiden honour; and the manner of
man shall know
Whom they freely may love and honour, and never may fear
to rue 35
Their maidenhood, and the true love they gave him of heart
so true.
In God's sight I pray all good women to keep them in
wisdom's way,
For true shame on all sides doth guard them: such bliss I for
them would pray.

But the false heart shall win false honour—How long doth
the thin ice last,
If the sun shineth hot as in August? So their praise shall be
soon o'erpast.40

Many women are praised for beauty; if at heart they shall be
untrue,
Then I praise them as I would praise it, the glass of a
sapphire hue
That in gold shall be set as a jewel! Tho' I hold it an evil
thing,
If a man take a costly ruby, with the virtue the stone doth
bring,
And set it in worthless setting: I would liken such costly
stone 45
To the heart of a faithful woman, who true womanhood doth
own.
I would look not upon her colour, nor the heart's roof all
men can see,
If the heart beateth true beneath it, true praise shall she win
from me!

Should I speak of both man and woman as I know, nor my
skill should fail,
O'er-long would it be my story. List ye now to my wonder-
tale: 50
And this venture it telleth tidings of love, and anon of woe,
Joy and sorrow it bringeth with it. 'Stead of one man if three
ye know,
And each one of the three hath wisdom and skill that
outweigh my skill,
Yet o'erstrange shall they find the labour, tho' they toil with a
right good-will
To tell ye this tale, which I think me to tell ye myself, alone,
55
And worn with their task and weary would they be ere the
work was done.

A tale I anew will tell ye, that speaks of a mighty love;
Of the womanhood of true women; how a man did his
manhood prove;
Of one that endured all hardness, whose heart never failed in
fight,
Steel he in the face of conflict: with victorious hand of might
60
Did he win him fair meed of honour; a brave man yet slowly
wise
Is he whom I hail my hero! The delight he of woman's eyes,
Yet of woman's heart the sorrow! 'Gainst all evil his face he
set;
Yet he whom I thus have chosen my song knoweth not as
yet,
For not yet is he born of whom men this wondrous tale shall
tell, 65
And many and great the marvels that unto this knight befell.

NOW they do to-day as of old time, where a foreign law
holds sway
(Yea, in part of our German kingdom, as ye oft shall have
heard men say),
Whoever might rule that country, 'twas the law, and none
thought it shame
('Tis the truth and no lie I tell ye) that the elder son might
claim70
The whole of his father's heirdom—And the younger sons
must grieve,
What was theirs in their father's lifetime, they perforce at his
death must leave.
Before, all was theirs in common, now it fell unto one alone.
So a wise man planned in his wisdom, that the eldest the
lands should own,
For youth it hath many a fair gift, but old age knoweth grief
and pain,75
And he who is poor in his old age an ill harvest alone doth
gain.

Kings, Counts, Dukes (and no lie I tell ye) the law holdeth
all as one,
And no man of them all may inherit, save only the eldest
son,
And methinks 'tis an evil custom—So the knight in his
youthful pride,
Gamuret, the gallant hero, lost his Burg, and his fair lands
wide, 80
Where his father had ruled with sceptre and crown as a
mighty king,
Till knighthood, and lust of battle, to his death did the
monarch bring.

And all men were sore for his sorrow, who truth and
unbroken faith
Bare ever throughout his lifetime, yea even unto his death.
Then the elder son he summoned the princes from out his
land, 85
And knightly they came, who rightly might claim from their
monarch's hand,
To hold, as of yore, their fiefdoms. So came they unto his
hall,
And the claim of each man he hearkened, and gave fiefs
unto each and all.

Now hear how they dealt—As their true heart it bade them,
both great and small,
They made to their king petition, with one voice from the
people all,90
That to Gamuret grace and favour he would show with true
brother's hand,
And honour himself in the doing. That he drive him not from
the land
But give him, within his kingdom, a fair Burg that all men
might see,
That he take from that Burg his title, and he held of all
tribute free!—

Nor the king was ill-pleased at their pleading, and he quoth,
'A small grace, I trow,95
Have ye asked, I would e'en be better than your prayer, as ye
straight shall know,
Why name ye not this my brother as Gamuret Angevin?
Since Anjou is my land, I think me the title we both may
win!'

Then further he spake, the monarch, 'My brother in sooth
may seek
Yet more from my hand of favour than my mouth may as
swiftly speak,100
With me shall he have his dwelling—I would that ye all
should see
How one mother alike hath borne us; his riches but small
shall be,
While I have enough; of free hand would I give him both
lands and gold,
That my bliss may be ne'er held forfeit by Him, Who can
aye withhold,
Or give, as He deemeth rightful!' Then the princes they
heard alway,105
How the king would deal well with his brother, and they
deemed it a joyful day!

And each one bowed him low before him. Nor Gamuret long
delayed,
But he spake as his heart would bid him, and friendly the
words he said:
'Now hearken, my lord and brother, if vassal I think to be
To thee, or to any other, then a fair lot awaiteth me. 110
But think thou upon mine honour, for faithful art thou and
wise,
And give counsel as shall beseem thee, and help as thou
shalt devise.
For naught have I now save mine armour, if within it I more
had done,

Then far lands should speak my praises, and remembrance
from men were won!'
Then further he spake, the hero: 'Full sixteen my squires
shall be,115
And six of them shall bear harness; four pages give thou to
me
Of noble birth and breeding, and nothing to them I'll spare
Of all that my hand may win them. Afar in the world I'ld
fare,
(Somewhat I ere now have journeyed,) if Good Fortune on
me shall smile,
I may win from fair women favour. If a woman I serve
awhile, 120
And to serve her she hold me worthy, and my heart speaketh
not amiss,
True knight shall I be and faithful! God show me the way of
bliss!
As comrades we rode together (but then o'er thy land did
reign
The King Gandein, our father), and sorrow and bitter pain
We bare for Love's sake! At one while I knew thee as thief
and knight,125
Thou couldst serve, and thou couldst dissemble, for the sake
of thy lady bright.
Ah! could I steal love as thou couldst, if my skill were but
like to thine,
That women should show me favour, then a blissful lot were
mine!'

'Alas! that I ever saw thee,' spake, sighing, the king so true,
'Who lightly, with words of mocking, my heart would in
pieces hew 130
And would fain that we part asunder! One father hath left us
both
A mighty store of riches, I would share with thee, nothing
loth.

Right dear from my heart I hold thee; red gold and jewels
bright,
Folk, weapons, horse, and raiment, take thou as shall seem
thee right,
That thou at thy will mayst journey, and thy free hand to all
be known.135
Elect do we deem thy manhood, didst thou Gylstram as
birthplace own,
Or thou camest here from Rankulat, yet still would that
place be thine,
Which thou boldest to-day in my favour; true brother art
thou of mine!'

'Sir King, thou of need must praise me, so great is thy
courtesy!
So, courteous, thine aid be given, if thou and my mother free
140
Will share with me now your riches, I mount upward, nor
fear to fall,
And my heart ever beateth higher—Yet I know not how I
should call
This life, which my left breast swelleth! Ah! whither
wouldst go mine heart?
I would fain know where thou shalt guide me—'Tis time that
we twain should part.'

And all did the monarch give him, yea, more than the knight
might crave,145
Five chargers, picked and chosen, the best in his land he
gave
High-couraged, swift to battle; and many a cup of gold,
And many a golden nugget, for naught would his hand
withhold.
Four chests for the road he gave him, with many a jewel rare
Were they filled. Then the squires he took him who should
for the treasure care,150

And well were they clad and mounted; and none might his
grief withhold
When the knight gat him unto his mother, who her son in her
arms did fold.

Spake the woman, as woman grieving: 'Wilt thou tarry with
me no more,
King Gandein's son? Woe is me! yet my womb this burden
bore
And the son of my husband art thou. Is the eye of God
waxed blind, 155
Or His ear grown deaf in the hearing, that my prayer doth no
credence find?
Is fresh sorrow to be my portion? I have buried my heart's
desire,
And the light of mine eyes; will He rob me, who have
suffered a grief so dire,
Who judgeth with righteous judgment? Then the tale it hath
told a lie,
That spake of His help so mighty, Who doth help unto me
deny!' 160

'God comfort thee,' quoth the hero, 'for the death of my
father dear,
For truly we both must mourn him—But I think from no lips
to hear
Such wailing for my departing! As valour shall show the
way,
I seek knighthood in distant countries—So it standeth with
me to-day.'

Quoth the queen, 'Since to high love's service thou turnest
both hand and heart,165
Sweet son, let it not displease thee to take of my wealth a
part
That may serve thee upon thy journey; let thy chamberlain
take from me

Four chests, each a pack-horse burden, and heavy their
weight shall be.
And within, uncut, there lieth rich silk of Orient rare,
No man as yet hath cut it, and many a samite fair. 170
Sweet son, I prithee tell me what time thou wilt come again,
That my joy may wax the greater, and I look for thee not in
vain!'

'Nay, that I know not, Lady, nor the land that shall see my
face,
But wherever I take my journey, thou hast shown unto me
such grace
As befitteth knightly honour: and the king he hath dealt with
me 175
In such wise that grateful service his rewarding shall ever
be.
And this trust have I, O Lady, that for this thou wilt love him
more
Henceforward, whate'er the future yet keepeth for me in
store.'
And as the venture telleth, to the hand of this dauntless
knight,
Thro' the favour he won from a woman, and the working of
true love's might,180
Came a token fair, and its value was full thousand marks, I
trow,
E'en to-day an a Jew were craving a pledge, he would deem
enow
Such jewel, and ne'er disdain it—'Twas sent by his lady true,
And fame did he win in her service, and her love and her
greeting knew,
Yet seldom his pain found easing—Then the hero he took
his leave 185
Of mother, brother, and brother's kingdom, and many I ween
must grieve
Since his eyes never more beheld them. And all who his
friends had been,

Ere he passed from the land of his fathers, tho' the grace
were but small, I ween,
He gave them of thanks full measure; he deemed they too
much had done,
And, courteous, little thought him, that of right he their love
had won!190
Straighter his heart than straightness; did one of his praises
speak
In a full and fitting measure, then doubt were not far to seek,
But ask ye of those his neighbours, or of men who in distant
lands
Had seen his deeds, then the marvel ye were swifter to
understand.

And Gamuret he trode ever where Temperance aye should
guide, 195
And naught else might rule his doings, nor he boasted him in
his pride
But bare great honour meekly; from loose ways he e'er had
flown;
And he thought him, the gallant hero, that none bare on earth
a crown,
Were they King, or Queen, or Kaiser, whom he deemed of
his service worth
Were they not the mightiest reckoned of all monarchs that be
on earth.200
This will in his heart he cherished—Then men spake, at
Bagdad did reign
A monarch so strong and powerful, that homage he well
might claim
From two-thirds or more of earth's kingdoms. The heathen
his name held great,
And they spake of him as the Baruch, and kings did on his
bidding wait,
And crownèd heads were his servants; and his office it lasts
to-day—205

See how Christian men baptizèd to Rome wend their pilgrim
way,
So there was the heathen custom. At Bagdad was their papal
right,
And the Baruch as 'seemed his office purged their sins with
his word of might.

From Pompey and Ipomidon, two brothers of Babylon,
Nineveh, the town of their fathers, the Baruch with force had
won, 210
And bravely 'gainst him they battled. Then came the young
Angevin,
And the Baruch he showed him favour, yea, he did to his
service win
Gamuret the gallant hero—And he deemed it were well he
bore
Other arms than Gandein his father had given to him of
yore.
Then the hero he well bethought him; on his charger's cloth
they laid215
An anchor of ermine fashioned, and the same at his will they
made
For shield alike and vesture—And green as the emerald rare
Was his riding-gear, and 'twas fashioned and wrought of
Achmardi fair,
('Tis a silken stuff,) and he bade them to make of it at his
will
Both blazoned coat and surcoat, (than velvet 'tis richer still;)
220
And he bade them to sew upon it the anchor of ermine
white,
And with golden threads inwoven was the badge of this
gallant knight.

And his anchors they never tested or mainland or haven fair
And found in that place abiding—But the hero must further
bear

Thro' many a land, a brave guest, the load of this heraldry,
225
And behind the sign of this anchor but short space might his
resting be,
And nowhere he found abiding—The tale of the lands he
saw,
And the vessels in which he sailed him? If the truth unto ye I
swore,
On mine own oath must I swear it, and my knightly honour
true
In such wise as the venture told me; other witness I never
knew! 230

And men say that his manly courage held the prize in far
heathendom,
In Morocco's land, and in Persia, and elsewhere he high
honour won,
At Damascus and at Aleppo, and where knightly deeds
should be:
In Arabia and lands around it was he held of all conflict free,
For no man might dare withstand him, he won him such
crown of fame;235
And his heart for honour lusted, and all deeds were brought
to shame,
And became as naught before him, as all men bare witness
true
Who a joust with him had ridden, and Bagdad of his glory
knew.

And his heart never failed or faltered, but onward his course
he bare
To Zassamank's land and kingdom; there all men wept that
hero fair,240
Eisenhart, who in knightly service gave his life for a
woman's smile;
Belakané thereto constrained him, sweet maid she, and free
from guile.

(Since her love she never gave him, for love's sake did the
hero die,)
And his kinsmen would fain avenge him, and with force and
with subtlety
Their armies beset the maiden, but in sooth she could guard
her well245
Ere Gamuret came to her kingdom, and her wrath on her
foemen fell.
For the Prince Friedebrand of Scotland, and his host that
against her came
By ship, ere he left her kingdom had she wasted with fire
and flame.

Now hear what befell our hero; storm-driven he was that
day,
And scarce might he win to safety, and his boat in the haven
lay 250
Beneath the royal palace; and the folk they beheld him there,
And he looked around on the meadow, and he saw many
tents stand fair
Around the town, save the sea-coast, and two armies he
thought to see.
Then he bade them to tell the story, and whose that fair Burg
should be?
Since he knew it not, nor his shipmen—And an answer they
straightway gave,255
'Twas Patelamunt; then the townsfolk a boon from the knight
would crave,
And their speech it was soft and friendly—In the name of
their gods they'ld pray
He should help them, so great their peril that in danger of
death they lay.

When the young Angevin had hearkened to the tale of their
bitter pain,
He proffered to them his service for such payment as knight
may gain,260

(As it oft shall befit a hero)—They should say for what
goodly prize
He should dare the hate of their foemen? And they answered
him in this wise
With one mouth the hale and the wounded—Naught would
they from him withhold,
But lord should he be of their treasure, of their jewels alike
and gold,
A fair life should he lead among them!—But such payment
he little sought,265
For many a golden nugget from Araby had he brought.
And dark as night were the people who in Zassamank dwelt
alway—
And the time it seemed long unto him that he need in their
midst must stay—
But he bade them prepare a lodging, and methinks it became
them well
The best of their land to give him, since awhile he with them
would dwell.270
And the women they looked from the windows, and they
gazed on the noble knight,
And they looked on his squires, and his harness, how 'twas
fashioned for deeds of might.
Then they saw how the knight, free-handed, on his shield of
ermine bare
Full many a pelt of sable; the Queen's Marshal he read it
fair,
The badge, for a mighty anchor, and little he rued the sight,
275
If his eye spake the truth unto him ere this had he seen the
knight,
Or one who bare his semblance—At Alexandria it needs
must be,
When the Baruch besieged the city—and unequalled in strife
was he!

So rode the gallant hero, in stately guise and meet;

Ten pack-horses heavy-laden they led first adown the street,
280
And twenty squires behind them; and his people they went
before,
And lackeys, cooks, and cook-boys, at the head of the train
they saw.
And stately I ween his household, twelve pages of lineage
high
Rode next to the squires, well-mannered, and trained in all
courtesy,
And Saracens were among them; and behind them in order
fair 285
Came chargers eight, and a covering of sendal did each one
bear.
But the ninth it bore a saddle, and the shield ye have known
ere now
Was borne by a squire beside it, and joyful his mien, I trow.
And trumpeters rode behind it, for in sooth they must needs
be there,
And a drummer he smote his tambour, and swung it aloft in
air. 290
And as naught had the hero deemed it, this pomp, if there
failed to ride
Men who on the flute were skilful, and three fiddlers were at
their side,
And they hasted not nor hurried; and behind them the hero
came,
And his shipman he rode beside him, a wise man of goodly
fame.

And much folk was within the city, and Moors were both
man and maid.295
Then the hero he looked around him, and, lo! many a shield
displayed,
Battle-hewn and with spear-thrust piercèd they hung on each
wall and door.

And wailing and woe was their portion; for the knight at
each window saw
Many men lie sorely wounded, who to breathe the air were
fain,
And e'en tho' a leech might tend them no help might they
think to gain300
Who were hurt too sore for healing—In the field had they
faced the foe,
And such shall be their rewarding who in conflict no flight
will know—
Many horses were led towards him, sword-hewn and with
lance thrust through;
And on each side stood dusky maidens, and black as the
night their hue.

Then his host gave him kindly greeting—and of joy did he
reap his meed—305
A rich man was he and mighty, and many a knightly deed
With thrust and blow had his hand wrought when his post at
the gate he found;
And many a knight was with him, and bandaged their heads
and bound,
And their hands in slings were holden; yet tho' sorely
wounded still
They did many deeds of knighthood, nor were lacking in
strength and skill.310

Then the Burg-grave of the city, with fair words did he pray
his guest
To deal with him and his household in such wise as should
seem him best.
And the host, he led the hero to his wife, and courteously
Did Gamuret kiss the lady, small joy in the kiss had he!
Then they sat them down to the table, and e'en as the feast
was o'er,315
The Marshal he gat him swiftly to the queen, and the tidings
bore,

And craved from her goodly payment, as to messenger shall
be due.
And he spake, 'It shall end in gladness, the grief that
erewhile we knew,
We have welcomed here, O Lady, a knight of such gallant
mien,
We must thank the gods who have sent him, for our need
they have surely seen.'320

'Now tell me upon thine honour who this gallant knight may
be?'
'Lady, a dauntless hero, and the Baruch's man is he,
An Angevin he, of high lineage; Ah me! little did he spare
Himself, when his foemen seeking he forth to the field
would fare.
How wisely, with skill and cunning, he avoided the
threatening blow,325
And turned him again to the onslaught! Much sorrow he
wrought his foe—
Ere this have I seen him battle, when the princes of Babylon
Their city of Alexandria had fain from the Baruch won,
And with force from its walls would drive him, and many a
man lay dead
In the overthrow of their army, for their venture was but ill-
sped.330
And such deeds did he do, this hero, that no counsel was
theirs but flight:
And there did I hear his praises, for all spake of this gallant
knight
As one who, without denial, had won him, in many a land,
The crown of true knightly honour, by the strength of his
own right hand.

'Now fain would I speak with the hero, see thou to the time
and way;335
E'en now might he ride to the castle, for peace shall be kept
to-day.

Were it better that I should seek him? He is other than we in
face,
Pray Heaven it not displease him, but our need with the
knight find grace!
I would that I first might know this, ere the rede from my
folk I hear
That I show to this stranger honour—If it pleaseth him to
draw near,340
Say, how shall I best receive him? Shall the knight be so
nobly born
That my kiss be not lost, if I kiss him?' 'Nay, hold me of life
forsworn
If he be not of kings the kinsman! Lady, this word I'll bear
To thy princes, that they shall clothe them in raiment both fit
and fair,
And stand before thee, in due order, ere yet to thy court we
ride, 345
And the same shalt thou say to thy ladies—In the city he
doth abide;
I will ride below, and will bring him to thy palace, a worthy
guest,
For no fair or knightly virtue shall be lacking that noble
breast.'

But little space they delayed them, for the Marshal, with
ready skill,
Strove that all in such wise be ordered as should pleasure his
lady's will.350
But soon did they bear to the hero rich garments, he did
them on,
And this hath the venture told me that their cost should be
hardly won;
And thereon lay the anchors, heavy, and wrought of Arabian
gold,
For so had he willed. Then the hero, who fair payment for
love had told

A charger bestrode that 'fore Babylon a knight rode, for
jousting fain,355
From the saddle did Gamuret smite him, and I wot it hath
wrought him pain.

If his host thought to ride beside him? He and his gallant
knights?
Yea, in sooth they would do so, gladly—So wended they up
the height,
And dismounted before the palace; and many a knight stood
there,
And each, as was fit, had clothed him in raiment both rich
and fair.360
And his pages they ran before him, and each twain they
went hand in hand,
And in marvellous fair arraying he saw many ladies stand.
And the queen, her eyes brought her sorrow as she looked
on the Angevin,
So lovely was he to look on that he needs must an entrance
win
Thro' the gates of her heart, if 'twere anguish or joy that
within he bore,365
Tho' her womanhood 'gainst all comers had held them fast
closed before.

Then a space did she step towards him, and a kiss from her
guest she prayed;
And, herself, by the hand she took him and they sat them,
both man and maid
In a window wide, that looked forth from the palace upon
the foe,
And a covering of wadded samite was spread o'er the couch
below. 370
Is there aught that than day is lighter? Then it likeneth not
the queen!
Yet else was she fair to look on, as a woman should be, I
ween,

But unlike to the dew-dipped roses was her colour, yea,
black as night.
And her crown was a costly ruby, and thro' it ye saw aright
Her raven head. Then as hostess she spake to her guest this
word, 375
That greatly she joyed at his coming, 'Sir, Knight, I such tale
have heard
Of thy knightly strength and prowess—Of thy courtesy, hear
me fair,
For fain would I tell of my sorrow, and the woe that my
heart doth bear!'

'My help shall not fail thee, Lady! What hath grieved, or
doth grieve thee now,
I think me aside to turn it, to thy service my hand I vow! 380
I am naught but one man only—Who hath wronged or now
wrongeth thee
My shield will I hold against him—Little wroth shall thy
foeman be!'

Then a prince he spake out courteous, 'The foe would we
little spare,
Did our host not lack a captain, since Friedebrand hence
must fare.
He defendeth afar his kingdom—A king, one Hernant by
name 385
(Whom he slew for the sake of Herlindè) his kinsmen
against him came,
And evil enow have they wrought him, nor yet from their
strife forbear—
Yet he left here full many a hero, and among them, Duke
Heuteger
With his gallant deeds of knighthood, and his army, hath
pressed us sore,
They have skill and strength for the conflict. And many a
soldier more390

With Gaschier of Normandy came here, and a hero wise is
he.
Many knights hath he brought to this country (and wrathful
guests they be):
Kailet of Hoscurast. All these hath he brought upon our fair
land
With his comrades four, and his soldiers, the Scottish king
Friedebrand!
And there, to the West, by the sea-coast doth Eisenhart's
army lie,395
And their eyes shall be fain for weeping; nor in secret, nor
openly
Hath one seen them, and failed to marvel at their grief and
their sorrow sore,
Since their lord hath been slain in battle with the heart's rain
their eyes run o'er.'

Then the guest courteous spake to his hostess, 'I would, an it
seem thee right,
Thou shouldst say why thy foeman threaten, why they seek
thee with war-like might!400
Thou hast here many gallant heroes, it grieveth me sore to
see
Thy land thus with hate o'erladen, for woe must it bring to
thee.'

'Wouldst thou know? Then, Sir Knight, I will tell thee—A
knight did me service true,
And the fruit of all manly virtue his life as its decking knew,
And gallant and wise was the hero, and his faith as a goodly
tree 405
Was fast-rooted, and none so courteous but were shamed by
his courtesy.
And modest was he as a woman, tho' dauntless and strong, I
trow,
And a knight e'en as he free-handed ere his day never land
might know.

(But they that shall come hereafter, other folk shall their
doings see.)
A fool was he in false dealing, and a Moor, as myself shall
be; 410
And his father's name was Tánkaneis, a king of a kingly
heart,
And his son, he who was my lover, men knew him as
Eisenhart.
That for love's sake I took his service, as a woman I did not
well,
It hath brought me but lasting sorrow since no joy to his
portion fell,
They deem I to death betrayed him! Yet such treason were
far from me,415
Tho' his folk bring such charge against me; and dear to my
heart was he,
Far dearer than they e'er held him. Nor witnesses here shall
fail
To speak to the truth of my saying, if it please them to tell
the tale.
His gods and mine, they know it, the truth—I must sorrow
deep
Since my womanly shame hath brought him a guerdon I
needs must weep!420

'Thus he won in my maiden service much honour by
knighthood fair,
I thought thus to prove my lover; his deeds did his worth
declare.
For my sake he put off his harness (that which like to a hall
doth stand
Is a lofty tent, the Scotch folk they brought it into this land),
Then e'en tho' he bare no armour his body he little spared,
425
For he held his life as worthless, many ventures unarmed he
dared.

As the matter so stood between us, a prince who my man
should be,
Prothizilas did men call him, a bold knight, from all
cowardice free,
Rode forth in search of venture, and evil for him that day
For there, in Assagog's forest, his death in waiting lay. 430
In a knightly joust he met it, and there too he found his end
The gallant knight who faced him—'Twas Prince Eisenhart
my friend.
For both of the twain were piercèd with a spear thro' heart
and shield,
And I, alas! poor woman, must weep for that fatal field.
And ever their death doth grieve me, and sorrow from love
shall grow,435
And never henceforth as my husband a man do I think to
know.'

Then e'en tho' she was a heathen Gamuret he bethought him
well,
That a heart more true and tender ne'er in woman's breast
might dwell.
Her purity was her baptism, and as water that washed her
o'er
Was the rain that streamed from her eyelids o'er her breast,
and the robe she wore;440
All her joy did she find in sorrow, and grief o'er her life did
reign—
Then the queen she looked on the hero, and in this wise she
spake again:

'With his army the king of Scotland hath sought me across
the sea,
For the knight was son to his uncle; yet no ill can he do to
me,
If here the truth be spoken, that is worse than the grief I
knew 445
For Eisenhart's death!' and sorely she sighed that lady true;

And many a glance thro' her tear-drops on Gamuret shyly
fell,
And her eyes to her heart gave counsel, and his beauty it
pleased her well,
(And she knew how to judge a fair face, since fair heathen
she oft had seen,)
And the root of true love and longing it sprang up the twain
between.450
She looked upon him, and his glances, they answering
sought her own—
Then she bade them to fill the wine-cup, had she dared, it
were left undone,
And she grieved she might not delay it, since to many a hero
brave
Who spake with the maids this wine-cup the signal of
parting gave.
Yet her body was e'en as his body, and his look did such
courage give455
To the maid, that she thought henceforward in the life of the
knight to live.

Then he stood upright, and he spake thus, 'Lady, I weary
thee,
Too long methinks do I sit here, I were lacking in courtesy!
As befitting true knight and servant I mourn for thy woe so
great,
Lady, do thou command me, I will on thy bidding wait. 460
Wherever thou wilt, there I wend me. I will serve thee in all
I may!'
And the lady she quoth in answer, 'I believe thee, Sir Knight,
alway!'

Then his kindly host the Burg-grave, of his labour would
nothing spare
Lest the hours of his stay be heavy; and he asked if he forth
would fare,

And ride round the walls of the city? 'The battle-field shalt
thou see,465
And how we would guard our portals!' then Gamuret
courteously
Made answer, he fain would see it, the field where they late
had fought,
And the place where brave deeds of knighthood had by
gallant hands been wrought.

And noble knights rode with him adown from the palace
hall,
Some were wise, some were young and foolish,—So rode
they around the wall470
To sixteen gates, and they told him not one of them might
they close
Since Eisenhart's death called for vengeance—'So wrathful
shall be our foes
Our conflict it resteth never, but we fight both by night and
day,
Nor our portals since then we fasten, but open they stand
alway.
At eight of our gates they beset us, true Eisenhart's gallant
knights,475
And evil shall they have wrought us; spurred by anger each
man doth fight,
The princes of lofty lineage, the king of Assagog's ban!'
And there floated before each portal a banner, so pale and
wan,
With a piercèd knight upon it. When Eisenhart lost his life
His folk chose to them this symbol, as badge in the coming
strife. 480
'But against these arms have we others, wherewith we their
grief would still,
And thus shalt thou know our banner; 'twas wrought at our
lady's will,
Two fingers in oath she stretcheth, that never such grief she
knew

As Eisenhart's death hath brought her (true sorrow for heart
so true),
And so doth it stand the semblance of our queen, on a samite
white 485
Belakané in sable fashioned,—Since against us they came in
might,
(To avenge him for whom she sorrows) so she looks from
our portals high.
And proud Friedebrand's mighty army doth to eight of our
gates stand nigh,
Baptized men, from o'er the waters. A prince doth each
portal hold,
And forth from the gate he sallies, with his banners and
warriors bold.'490

'From the host of Gaschier the Norman, a count have we
captive ta'en,
And heavy methinks the ransom we may hope from that
knight to gain;
He is sister's son to Kailet, and the harm he to us hath done
His nephew I ween shall pay for! Yet such prize have we
seldom won.
Here have we no grassy meadow, but sand, thirty gallops
wide 495
Betwixt the tents and the trenches; here many a joust we
ride.

And further his host would tell him, 'One knight, he doth
never fail
To ride forth, a fair joust seeking. (If his service shall nought
avail
With her who hath sent him hither, what boots it how well
he fight?)
Proud Heuteger is the hero, of him may I speak with right
500
For since our besiegers threaten there dawneth never a day

But before the gates 'neath the castle, that knight doth his
charger stay.
And oft from that dauntless hero many tokens we needs
must bear,
That he smote through our shields at his spear-point, and
costly their worth and rare
When the squire from the shield doth break them. Many
knights 'fore his joust must fall;505
He would that all men may behold him, and our women they
praise him all.
And he who is praised of women, one knoweth that he doth
hold
The prize in his hand, and his heart's joy in full measure
shall aye be told!'

But now would the sun, grown weary, its wandering rays
recall;
'Twas time that the ride was ended—Then he sought with his
host the hall,510
And the evening meal was ready; and I needs of that feast
must tell,
'Twas laid in a fitting order, and knightly 'twas served, and
well.
And the queen with mien so stately she unto his table came,
(Here stood the fish, there the heron) and she counted it not
for shame
To ride adown from her palace, that herself she might be
aware 515
If they cared for the guest as 'twas fitting, and with her rode
her maidens fair.
Low she knelt (and but ill it pleased him) and cut as it
seemed her best
For the knight a fitting portion; she was glad in her goodly
guest.
And she filled for him the wine-cup, and care for his needs
would take,

And well did he mark, the hero, her mien, and the words she
spake. 520
And his fiddlers sat at the table, and over against the knight
Was his chaplain: with shy looks shamefast, he spake to the
lady bright:

'I looked not to find such welcome as, Lady, thou gavest me,
Too much must I deem the honour! If rede I might give to
thee,
Then to-day I had claimed naught from thee save was due to
my worth alone,525
Nor adown the hill hadst thou ridden, nor such service to me
hadst shown.
And, Lady, if I may venture to make unto thee request,
Let me live but as best befits me, thou dost honour o'ermuch
thy guest!'

Yet her kindly care she stayed not; for she stept to his page's
seat
And with gentle words and friendly she prayed them to
freely eat, 530
This she did her guest to honour: and the noble lads, I trow,
Bare goodwill to the royal lady. Nor the queen methinks was
slow
To pass where the host was seated and his lady, the Burg-
gravine,
And she raised the golden goblet, and she spake as should fit
a queen:
'Now unto your care I give him, our guest, and I rede ye both
535
Since the honour is yours, to hearken, and do my will
nothing loth!'
And she bade them farewell, and she turned her, and passed
to her guest once more,
Whose heart for her sake was heavy; and such sorrow for
him she bore,

And her heart and her eyes they answered, and they spake to
her sorrow yea!
And courteous she spake, the lady, 'Sir Knight, thou the
word shalt say,540
And whate'er be thy will, I will do it, for I hold thee a
worthy guest.
Now give me, I pray, dismissal; if here thou in peace shalt
rest,
Of that shall we all be joyful.' Her torch-holders were of
gold,
And four tapers they bare before her, so she rode to her
fortress-hold.

Nor long at the board they lingered—The hero was sad, and
gay, 545
He was glad for the honour done him, yet a sorrow upon him
lay,
And that was strong Love's compelling, that a proud heart
and courage high
Can bend to her will, and gladness shall oft at her bidding
fly.

Then the hostess she passed to her chamber, yea, e'en as the
meal was o'er;
And a couch did they spread for the hero, and love to the
labour bore.550
And the host to his guest spake kindly, 'Now here shall thy
sleep be sweet,
Thou shalt rest thro' the night that cometh, to thy need shall
such rest be meet.'
Then he spake to his men, and he bade them they should
hence from the hall away,
And the noble youths his pages, their couches around his lay
Each one with the head toward his master, for so was the
custom good;555
And tapers so tall and flaming alight round the chamber
stood.

Yet ill did it please the hero that so long were the hours of
night,
For the Moorish queen so dusky, had vanquished his heart of
might.
And he turned as a willow wand bendeth, till his joints they
were heard to crack,
The strife and the love that he craved for he deemed he o'er-
long did lack.560
And his heart-beats they echoed loudly, as it swelled high
for knighthood fain,
And he stretched himself as an archer who bendeth a bow
amain.
And so eager his lust for battle that sleepless the hero lay
Till he saw the grey light of morning, though as yet it should
scarce be day.
And his chaplain for Mass was ready, and to God and the
knight they sing,565
For so did he give commandment. Then he bade them his
harness bring,

And he rode where a joust should wait him, and that self-
same hour would ride
A horse that could charge the foeman, and turn swiftly to
either side,
And answer to bit and bridle if its rider would backward
draw.
And the watchers, both man and woman, his helm in the
gateway saw, 570
And the anchor shone fair upon it; and no man ere this might
see
So wondrous fair a hero, for like to a god was he!

And strong spears they bare for his using—How then was he
decked, the knight?
With iron was his charger covered, as should serve for a
shield in fight,

And above lay another covering, nor heavy methinks it
weighed, 575
'Twas a samite green; and his surcoat and blazoned coat
were made
Of Achmardi, green to look on, and in Araby fashioned fair,
And no lie I tell, but the shield-thongs that the weight of the
shield should bear
Were of silk and gold untarnished, and jewel-bedecked their
pride,
And the boss of the shield was covered with red gold, in the
furnace tried.580
He served but for love's rewarding; sharp conflict he held it
light;
And the queen she looked from her window, with many a
lady bright.
And see, there Heuteger held him, who the prize ne'er had
failed to gain;
When he saw the knight draw nearer, in swift gallop across
the plain,
He thought, 'Now whence came this Frenchman? Who hither
this knight hath sent?585
If a Moor I had thought this hero, my wit were to madness
bent!'

No whit they delayed the onslaught, from gallop to swifter
flight
Each man spurred amain his charger; and as fitting a valiant
knight
Nor one would evade the other, but would meet him in
jousting fair,
From brave Heuteger's spear the splinters flew high thro' the
summer air,590
But his foeman so well withstood him that he thrust him
from off his steed
Adown on the grass; but seldom might he win for his joust
such meed!

And his foe in his course rode o'er him, and trode him unto
the ground,
Yet he sprang up again, and valiant, fresh lust for the strife
he found,
But Gamuret's lance had pierced him thro' the arm, and he
bade him yield,595
And he knew he had found his master, and he spake from the
foughten field,
'Now who shall have o'erthrown me?' and the victor he
swiftly spake,
'Gamuret Angevin do men call me!' then he quoth, 'Thou my
pledge canst take!'

Then his pledge the knight took, and straightway he sent him
within the wall,
And much praise did he win from the women who looked
from the castle hall.600
And swiftly there came towards him, Gaschier of Normandy,
A proud and wealthy hero and mighty in strife was he.
And Gamuret made him ready, for a second joust he'ld ride,
And strong and new was his spear-shaft, and the iron was
both sharp and wide,
And the strangers they faced each other—But unequal their
lot, I trow,605
For Gaschier and his gallant charger full swiftly were they
laid low,
And the knight with his arms and harness he fell in the
shock of strife;
If he thought it for good or for evil, by his pledge must he
win his life.

Then Gamuret quoth, the hero, 'Thou hast pledged unto me
thine hand,
Yet the weapon it well hath wielded! Ride thou to the
Scottish band,610
And bid them to cease from troubling; if they to thy will are
fain,

Thou canst follow me to the city.' Then the knight hied him
o'er the plain.
If he prayed them, or gave commandment, they did at the
last his will,
And the Scottish host they rested, and from conflict they
held them still.

Then Kailet spurred swift towards him, but Gamuret turned
his rein,615
His cousin he was, and near kinsman, why then bring him
grief and pain?
And the Spaniard cried loudly on him; on his helm he an
ostrich bare,
And so far as I know to tell ye the knight he was decked so
fair
With silken raiment goodly, and long were his robes and
wide,
And the plain rang clear with the chiming of sweet bells as
he o'er it hied.620
The flower he of manly beauty, and his fairness it held the
field,
Save for two who should come hereafter, and his fame unto
theirs must yield;
But Parzival and brave Beaucorps, King Lot's son, they are
not here,
Not yet were they born, but hereafter for their beauty men
held them dear!

Then Gaschier he grasped his bridle. 'Now checked will it be
thy race,625
So I tell thee upon mine honour, if the Angevin thou shalt
face
Who there my pledge hath taken. Sir Knight, thou shalt list
my prayer
And hearken unto my counsel; in Gamuret's hand I sware
From strife aside to turn thee: stay thy steed then for my
sake,

For mighty is he in conflict!' Then aloud King Kailet spake,
630
'Is he Gamuret my cousin, and son unto King Gandein?
Then I care not with him to battle, no foe shall he be of
mine!
Take thine hand from off my bridle'—'Nay, further thou shalt
not fare
Till mine eyes have first beheld thee, with thine head of the
helmet bare,
For mine with blows is deafened!' Then his helmet the
prince unbound.635
And yet, tho' with him he fought not, Gamuret other foemen
found.

And the day had grown to high morning—And the folk who
the joust might see
Were glad at heart, and they gat them to their bulwarks right
speedily,
For he was as a net before them, and none might escape his
hold.
And he chose him another charger, so the tale unto me was
told, 640
And it flew, and the earth it spurnèd, and its work could
aright fulfil,
Bold when the knight would battle, yet its speed could he
check at will.
And what would he do the rider? His valour I praise alway,
For he rode where the Moorish army to the west by the sea-
coast lay.

Thence a prince, Rassalig men called him, forgat not each
coming morn645
(He was Assagog's richest hero, to riches and honour born
Since he came of a royal lineage) to take from the camp his
way
He would fain joust before the city—But his strength it was
quelled that day

By Anjou's dauntless hero; and a dusky maid made moan
(Since 'twas she who sent him hither) that her knight should
be thus o'erthrown.650
For a squire brought, without his bidding, to his master,
brave Gamuret,
A spear, with light reed-shaft fashioned, and its point 'gainst
the Moor he set,
And with it he smote the paynim from his steed down upon
the sand,
Nor longer he bade him lie there than as surety he pledged
his hand.
So the strife it had found its ending, and the hero had won
him fame;655
Then Gamuret saw eight banners toward the city that
onward came,
And he bade the conquered hero the force with his word to
stay,
And follow him to the city. And that word must he needs
obey.

Nor Gaschier delayed his coming; and unto the Burg-grave
told
How his guest sought for further conflict nor his wrath
might the host withhold.660
If he swallowed not iron as an ostrich, nor his wrath did on
stones assuage
'Twas but that he might not find them! Then he gnashed his
teeth for rage,
And he growled as a mighty lion, and the hair of his head he
tare,
And he quoth, 'So the years of my lifetime a harvest of folly
bear,
The gods they had sent to my keeping a valiant and worthy
friend, 665
If with strife he shall be o'erladen, then mine honour hath
found an end;

Sword and shield they shall little profit—Yea, shame he
would on me cast
Who should bring this to my remembrance!' Then swift from
his place he passed,
And he gat him into the portal, and a squire towards him
drew,
And he bare a shield that was painted with a knight by a
spear pierced thro',670
In Eisenhart's land was it fashioned; and a helmet his hand
must hold,
And a sword that Rassalig carried in battle, that heathen
bold,
But now was he parted from it whose fame was in every
place;
Were he slain unbaptized I think me, God had shown to this
hero grace!

And e'en as the Burg-grave saw it, ne'er of yore was his joy
so great,675
For the coat-of-arms he knew it—So he rode thro' the city
gate,
And without, his guest had halted, young hero he, not yet
old,
As one of a joust desirous, and his bridle the Burg-grave
bold,
Lahfilirost was his name, he grasped it, and he led him
within the wall;
And I wot well no other foeman that day 'neath his spear
must fall.680

Quoth Lahfilirost the Burg-grave, 'Sir Knight, thou shalt tell
to me
If thine hand Rassalig hath vanquished?' 'Then our land from
all strife is free;
For he of the Moors is chieftain, the men of true Eisenhart
Who have brought unto us such sorrow—But now shall our
woe depart,

'Twas a wrathful god who bade him thus seek us with all his
host, 685
But his weapons to naught are smitten, and to folly is turned
his boast!'
Then he led him in (ill it pleased him) and there met then the
royal maid,
And she loosened the bands of his vizor, and her hand on his
bridle laid,
To her care must the Burg-grave yield it: nor his squires to
their task were slack,
For they turned them about, and swiftly they rode on their
master's track.690
So men saw the queen so gracious lead her guest thro' the
city street
Who here should be hailed the victor—Then she lighted her
on her feet,
'Ah me! but thy squires are faithful! Fear ye lest your lord be
lost?
Without ye shall he be cared for; take his steed, here am I his
host!'

And above found he many a maiden: then her hands of
dusky hue 695
The queen set unto his harness, and disarmed the knight so
true.
And the bed-covering was of sable, and the couch it was
spread so fair,
And in secret a hidden honour they did for the knight
prepare,
For no one was there to witness—The maidens they might
not stay,
And the door was fast closed behind them, and Frau Minne
might have her way.700
So the queen in the arms of her true love found guerdon of
sweet delight,
Tho' unlike were the twain in their colour, Moorish princess
and Christian knight!

Then the townsfolk brought many an offering to the gods
who had seen their woe.
That which Rassalig needs must promise ere he from the
field might go
That he did, in all truth and honour, yet heavy was he at
heart, 705
And afresh sprang the fount of his sorrow for his prince
gallant Eisenhart.
And the Burg-grave he heard of his coming; then loud rang
the trumpet call,
And no man of Zassamank's princes but came to the palace
hall.
They gave Gamuret thanks for the honour he had won in the
field that day,
Four-and-twenty had fallen before him, and their chargers he
bore away,710
And three chieftains had he made captive. And there rode in
the princes' train
Many gallant knights, in the courtyard of the palace did they
draw rein.
And the hero had slept and eaten, and clad him in raiment
fair,
Chief host was he, for his body fit garments would they
prepare.
And she who afore was a maiden but now was a wife would
take 715
Her lord by the hand, forth she led him, and unto her princes
spake:
'My body and this my kingdom are vassals unto this knight,
If so be that his foemen fearing, resist not his hand of might!'

Then Gamuret spake, and his bidding was courteous, for
hero meet,
Sir Rassalig, go thou nearer, with a kiss thou my wife shalt
greet;720
And Sir Gaschier, thou shalt do likewise.' Then the Scotch
knight proud Heuteger

He bade on the lips to kiss her (and the wounds won in joust
he bare).

Then he bade them all be seated, and standing, he wisely
spake:
'I were fain to behold my kinsman, if he who did captive
take
The knight shall have naught against it—As kinsman it
seemeth me 725
That I find here no other counsel save straightway to set him
free!'
Then the queen she smiled, and bade them go swiftly and
seek the knight,
And then thro' the throng he pressed him, that count so fair
and bright,
Yet bare he the wounds of knighthood, and bravely and well
had fought;
With the host of Gaschier the Norman the land of the Moors
he sought.730
He was courteous; his sire a Frenchman he was Kailet's
sister's son,
Killirjacac his name; in the service of fair women fair meed
he won,

And the fairest of men they deemed him. When Gamuret
saw his face
(For like were they each to the other, as men of a kindred
race)
He bade his queen to kiss him and embrace him as kinsman
true, 735
And he spake, 'Now come thou and greet me!' and the knight
to his arms he drew,
And he kissed him, and each was joyful that the other he
here might meet:
And Gamuret quoth unto him, 'Alas! cousin fair and sweet,
What doth thy young strength in this conflict? Say, if woman
hath sent thee here?'

'Nay, never a woman sent me, with my cousin I came,
Gaschier, 740
He knoweth why he hath brought me—A thousand men
have I,
And I do to him loyal service—To Rouen in Normandy
I came, where his force was gathered, and many a youthful
knight
I brought from Champagne in mine army; 'neath his banner
we fain would fight.
Now evil hath turned against him what of cunning is hers
and skill,745
Thou wilt honour thyself if thou free him for my sake, and
cure his ill!'
'Thyself shalt fulfil thy counsel! Go thou, take with thee
Gaschier,
I would fain see my kinsman Kailet, do thou bring him unto
me here!'
So they wrought out the host's desiring, and brought him at
his behest,
And in loving wise and kindly did Gamuret greet his guest;
750
And ofttimes the queen embraced him, and kissed him with
kisses sweet:
And nothing it wronged her honour in such wise the prince
to greet,
He was cousin unto her husband, by birth was himself a
king.
Then smiling his host spake to him, 'God knows, 'twere an
evil thing,
Had I taken from thee Toledo, and thy goodly land of Spain
755
For Gascony's king, who wrathful doth plague thee with
strife amain;
'Twere faithless of me, Sir Kailet, since mine aunt's son thou
sure shalt be;
The bravest of knights shall be with thee; say, who forced
this strife on thee?'

Then out spake the proud young hero, 'My cousin Schiltung
bade
(Since his daughter Friedebrand wedded) that I lend to the
king mine aid.760
For the sake of his wife hath he won him, yea even from me
alone
Six thousand chosen heroes, who valour and skill have
shown.
And other men did I bring him, but a part they shall hence
have sailed,
For the Scottish folk came they hither, brave bands who in
strife ne'er failed.
And there came to his aid from Greenland, strong heroes
who bravely fought,765
Two mighty kings, and a torrent of knighthood with them
they brought,
And many a goodly vessel: and they pleased me, those men
of might—
And here for his sake came Morhold, who hath cunning and
skill in fight.'

'But now have they turned them homewards, and that which
the queen shall say
Even that will I do with mine army, her servant am I alway!
770
Thou shalt thank me not for this service, from kinsman 'twas
due, I ween.
Now thine are these gallant heroes, if like mine they
baptized had been
And were even as they in colour, then never a monarch
crowned
But if they should fight against him, of conflict his fill had
found!
But I marvel what here hath brought thee? Say, how didst
thou reach this strand?'775
'Yestreen I came, and this morning I am lord o'er this goodly
land!

The queen by the hand she took me, and with love I myself
would shield,
For so did my wit give counsel—' 'Yea, so hast thou won the
field,
Those sweet weapons two hosts have vanquished!' 'Thou
wouldst say, since I fled from thee,
So loudly on me thou calledst, say, what wouldst thou force
from me?780
Let us speak of the thing in friendship!' 'Thine anchor I
failed to know,
But seldom mine aunt's brave husband Gandein, did such
token show!'
'But I, I knew well thine ostrich with the snake's head upon
thy breast,
Aloft stood thy bird so stately, nor hid it within a nest!'

'And I saw in thy mien and bearing that that pledge would
have 'seemed thee ill785
Which two heroes afore had given, tho' first had they fought
their fill.'
'E'en such fate as theirs were my portion—But this thing I
needs must say,
Tho' little I like a devil, were he victor as thou this day
For love of his gallant doings the women had deemed him
sweet,
Yea, as sugar were fain to eat him!' 'Now thou praisest me
more than meet!'790
'Nay, of flattery know I little, thou shalt see that I hold thee
dear
In other wise!' Then the hero bade Rassalig draw anear.

And courteous he spake, King Kailet, 'My kinsman with
valiant hand
Hath made of thee here his captive?' 'Yea, Sire, so the thing
doth stand,
And I hold him for such a hero that Assagog's kingdom fair
795

Should fail not to yield him homage, since the crown he may
never wear,
Our prince Eisenhart! In her service was he slain who shall
now be wife
To thy kinsman, as knight so faithful he gave for her love his
life.
With my kiss have I sealed forgiveness, yet my lord and my
friend I lost!
If thy cousin by knightly dealing will repay of his death the
cost 800
I will fold my hands as his vassal: and wealth shall be his
and fame,
All that Eisenhart from Tánkaneis as his heritage thought to
claim.
Embalmed here the hero lieth, and I gaze on his wounds
each day
Since this spear thro' his true heart piercing, my lord and my
king did slay!'

Then he drew it forth from his bosom by a silken cord so
fine, 805
And the heroes saw the spear-blade 'neath his robe on his
bare chest shine.
And he quoth, 'It is now high morning, if my lord Sir
Killirjacac
My token will bear to my princes, with him will the knights
ride back.'
And a finger-ring he sent them: dark as hell were those
heroes all
And they rode who were there of princes, thro' the town to
the castle hall.810
As his vassals he gave with their banners to Assagog's lords
their land,
And each one rejoiced in the fiefdom he won from his ruler's
hand,
But the better part was his portion, Gamuret's, as their lord
and king.

And these were the first—as they passed hence their homage
they fain would bring
The princes of Zassamank's kingdom, and they came in their
order due,815
And each as their queen had bade them, they took from his
hand anew
Their land, and the fruit it should bear them, as to each man
was fit and right,
And poverty fled from his presence. Now he who was slain
in fight
And in life was a prince by lineage, Prothizilas, he had left
A Dukedom fair, and this country which was thus of its lord
bereft 820
He gave unto him who much honour had won by his strong
right hand,
The Burg-grave, in combat dauntless—With its banners he
took the land.

Then Assagog's noble princes took the Scotch Duke, proud
Heuteger,
And Gaschier, the Norman hero, to their lord did they lead
them there,
And he spake them free for their asking, and they thanked
brave Gamuret.825
Then Heuteger of Scotland with prayers did these knights
beset,
'Now give to our lord the armour, as prize for his deeds so
brave,
That Eisenhart's life took from us, when to Friedebrand he
gave
That which was of our land the glory—Forfeit of joy the
knight,
And dead on his bier he lieth, since no love might his love
requite—'830
And earth knoweth naught so goodly, the helm it was strong
and hard,
Yea even of diamond fashioned, in battle a goodly guard.

Then Heuteger sware unto them, if the land of his lord he
saw
He would pray of his hand the armour, and send it to them
once more.

And this did he swear them freely—Then leave would the
princes pray835
Who stood in the royal presence, and they wend from the
hall their way.
And tho' sorely the land was wasted, yet Gamuret scattered
free
Such royal gifts and goodly as if laden with gold each tree.
And costly I ween the presents that vassal and friend must
share
From the open hand of the hero; and the queen deemed it
right and fair.840

Full many a bitter conflict had been fought ere the bridal
feast,
But peace had the foeman sealèd, and the land was from
strife released;
(Nor this song I myself have woven, but so was it told to
me)
And Eisenhart did they bury with honours right royally.
To his grave did his kinsmen bear him, and the gold that his
lands might bring845
In a whole year long, did they spend there, of their free will
they did this thing.
And Gamuret bade his kinsfolk his riches and lands to hold
And use as they would; tho' they craved not such boon from
the hero bold.

At dawn from before the fortress the foe would their camp
withdraw,
And those who were there departed; many litters with them
they bore.850

And the field was left unsheltered, save for one tent so great
and fair,
And the king he bade his servants that tent to his vessel bear.
And he said to his folk that to Assagog would he take it, and
yet I wot
He did with that speech deceive them, for Assagog saw him
not.

Now that proud and gallant hero, his heart gave him little
rest 855
Since he found there no deeds of knighthood, and gladness
forsook his breast;
Yet his dusky wife was dearer than e'en his own life might
be,
Ne'er knew he a truer lady whose heart was from falsehood
free,
She forgat not what 'seemed a woman, and with her as
comrades good
Went purity untarnished, and the ways of true womanhood.
860

He was born in Seville's fair city whom the knight would
hereafter pray,
When he grew of his sojourn weary, to sail with him far
away;
For many a mile had he led him, and he brought him unto
this place,
And a Christian was he, the steersman, nor like to a Moor in
face.
And wisely he spake, 'Thou shalt hide it from them who a
dark skin bear,865
Too swift is my barque for pursuing, from hence shall we
quickly fare!'

Then his gold it was borne to the vessel. Now of parting I
needs must tell,
By night did he go, the hero, and his purpose he hid it well;

But when from his wife he sailèd, in her womb did she bear
his child:
And fair blew the wind, and the breezes bare him hence o'er
the waters wild.870

And the lady she found a letter, and 'twas writ by her
husband's hand;
And in French (for she well could read it) did the words of
the writing stand:
'Here one love to another speaketh—As a thief have I stolen
away
That mine eyes might not see thy sorrow—But this thing I
needs must say,
Wert thou, e'en as I, a Christian I ever should weep for thee,
875
For e'en now I must sorely mourn thee. If it chance that our
child shall be
In face like unto one other, then his is a dowry fair,
Of Anjou was he born, and Frau Minne for his lady he did
declare.
Yet was he in strife a hailstorm, ill neighbour unto his foe;
That his grandsire hath been King Gandein, this I will that
my son shall know.880
Dead he lay thro' his deeds of knighthood; and his father the
same death won,
Addanz was his name, and unsplintered his shield hath been
seen of none;
And by birth he hath been a Breton, and two brothers' sons
were they,
He and the brave Pendragon, and their sires' names I here
will say;
For Lassalies he hath been the elder, and Brickus was his
brother's name,885
And Mazadan was their father whom a fay for her love did
claim.
Terre-de-la-schoie did they call her, to Fay-Morgan she led
the king,

For he was her true heart's fetters; and my race from those
twain did spring.
And fair shall they be, and valiant, and as crownèd kings
they reign—
If lady, thou'lt be baptizèd thou mayst win me to thee again!'
890

Yet had she no thought of anger, but she spake, 'Ah! too
soon 'tis o'er,
Of a sooth would I do his bidding, would it bring him to me
once more.
In whose charge hath my courteous hero left the fruit of his
love so true?
Alas! for the sweet communion that we twain for a short
space knew!
Shall the strength of my bitter sorrow rule body and soul
alway? 895
And she quoth, 'Now his God to honour, his will would I
fain obey,
And gladly I'ld be baptizèd, and live as should please my
love!'
And sorrow with her heart struggled, and e'en as the turtle
dove
Her joy sought the withered branches, for the same mind
was hers, I ween,
When the mate of the turtle dieth, she forsaketh the branches
green.900

Then the queen at the time appointed bare a son, who was
dark and light,
For in him had God wrought a wonder, at one while was he
black and white.
And a thousand times she kissed him where white as his
sire's his skin.
And she named the babe of her sorrows Feirefis Angevin.
And he was a woodland-waster, many spears did he shatter
fair, 905

And shields did he pierce—as a magpie the hue of his face
and hair.
Now a year and more was ended since Gamuret won such
fame
At Zassamank, and his right hand the victor's prize might
claim,
And yet o'er the seas he drifted, for the winds vexed the hero
bold.
Then a silken sail red gleaming he saw, and the barque did
hold 910
The men whom the King of Scotland, Friedebrand, sent
upon their way
At the bidding of Queen Belakané: from her would they
pardon pray
That ever he came against her, tho' in sooth he had lost the
more.
And with them the diamond helmet, the corslet and sword
they bore,
And hosen e'en such as the harness, and a marvel it needs
must be 915
That the barque was thus borne towards him, as the venture
hath told to me!
And they gave him the goodly armour, and an oath unto
them he swore
That his mouth it should speak their message, an he came to
the queen once more.
And they parted; and one hath told me that the sea bare him
onward bound
Till he came to a goodly haven, and in Seville his goal he
found. 920
And with gold did he pay his steersman right well for his
guidance true,
And they parted, those twain, and sorrow the heart of that
steersman knew!

BOOK II
HERZELEIDE
ARGUMENT

This Book tells how Gamuret sought for King Kailet, and found him before
Kanvoleis. How the Queen of the Waleis ordered a Tourney to be holden,
and of the heroes there assembled. How Gamuret did valiant deeds, and was
adjudged the victor; and how two queens laid claim to his love. Of the
wedding of Gamuret and Queen Herzeleide and their love to each other.
How Gamuret went to the aid of the Baruch, and was treacherously slain
before Alexandria. How the news was brought to the land of the Waleis; of
the sorrow of Herzeleide; and of the birth of Parzival.

BOOK II
HERZELEIDE
Now there in the Spanish country he thought him the king to
greet,
His kinsman and cousin Kailet, and he followed with
footsteps fleet
To Toledo, but thence had he ridden unto deeds of
knighthood fair,
Where many a spear should be splintered, and men thought
not their shields to spare.
Then he thought him to make him ready (so the venture doth
tell I ween)5
With many a blazoned spear-shaft, and many a sendal green;
For each spear it bare a pennon, with the anchor in ermine
white,
And well was it wrought, the symbol, and costly in all men's
sight.

And long and broad were the pennons, and e'en to the hand
hung low
When men on the spear-blade bound them, a span-breadth
the point below.10
And a hundred spears were ready for that true and gallant
knight,
And his cousin's folk they bare them, and with him went
forth to fight;
And honour and loyal service they showed him as fit and
fair,
Nor I think had their lord been wrathful that his kinsman
their love should share.

I know not how long he sought him, till shelter at length he
found 15
In the Waleis land: 'fore Kanvoleis were pitched on the open
ground
Many tents so fair and knightly; (I speak not from fancy
light
But sooth are the words I tell ye if the tale ye would hear
aright)
Then he bade his folk to halt there, and he sent on before his
face
The chief of his squires, and he bade him to seek them a
resting-place.20
He would fain do his master's bidding, and swift to the town
he sped,
And many a pack-horse laden his comrades behind him led.
And never a house he saw there but its roof was a shield I
trow,
And the walls were hung and circled with spears in a goodly
row,
For the queen of the Waleis country had ordered at
Kanvoleis 25
That a Tourney fair be holden, and they ordered it in such
wise

That a coward had little liked it—for whoever would seek
such strife
At his will doth it chance but seldom! She was maiden, not
yet a wife,
And herself and two lands she offered to him who the prize
should hold;
And many to earth had fallen in whose ear had this tale been
told, 30
And he who such fall must suffer he held that his chance
was o'er.
And many a dauntless hero showed knighthood those walls
before,
And many a horse rushed onward as the knight spurred to
onslaught fierce,
And the sword-blades rang clear on each other, and spears
did the shield rims pierce.

A bridge from the plain was builded that crossed o'er the
river's flow,35
And 'twas closed by a tower-portal; nor the squire at his task
was slow,
But he opened the gates, unwearied, when one would an
entrance win.
And above it there stood the palace, and the queen sat the
hall within,
And she gazed from the high hall window with many a
maiden fair,
And they looked on the squires beneath them to see what
had brought them there.40
'Twixt themselves had they taken counsel, and a tent did
they rear on high
For the winning of love ungranted a king wrought it in days
gone by,
('Twas in service of Queen Belakané). The squires laboured
with might and main
Till the burden of thirty pack-steeds they raised on the
grassy plain,

A pavilion rich to look on, and the meadow it was so wide
45
That the silken ropes that held it might stretch forth on either
side.
And Gamuret, their master, ate without in the open air—
And then for his courtly entrance with skill would the knight
prepare,
Nor longer might be delaying—His squires take the spears
straightway,
And they bind them fast together, and five in each band they
lay, 50
And the sixth in their hand they carry, with its pennon and
anchor white;
So proudly into the city came riding this gallant knight.

Then the queen she heard the tidings that a noble guest was
come
From a far-off land and distant, and in sooth was he known
to none.
'And courteous his folk in bearing; both heathen and French
I trow, 55
And Angevin, some among them if their speech I aright may
know;
And their courage is high, and their raiment both rich and
well shaped shall be.
But now was I with his people, and they seem me from
falsehood free,
And they say, 'Who hath lust for riches, if he to our lord
shall seek
He will free him from fear of scarceness!' The while I with
them did speak,60
I asked them to tell of their master, and they thought not to
hide the thing,
But spake of a true heart freely, 'Of Zassamank is he king.'

'Twas a page who brought the tidings—'Ah me! that pavilion
fair!

Wouldst thou pledge thy crown and thy kingdom not half of
its cost were there!'
'Thou needst not to praise so highly, my mouth ne'er shall
say thee nay,65
A rich man shall be its owner, no lack doth he know alway.'
And in this wise she spake, the lady, the fair and gracious
queen,
'Why cometh he not to the castle? For fain I his face had
seen.'

This she bade her page to ask him—Then the hero was fain
to make
Brave entry into the city, and the sleepers must needs awake.
70
Many shields he saw fair shining—The blast of the trumpets
clear
Rang loud and long before him, and two drummers ye needs
must hear
As they tossed and smote their tambours, and the walls
echoed back the sound,
With the notes of the flutes 'twas mingled as the train
through the city wound,
'Twas a march that they played so gaily—Nor forget we how
he must ride75
Their master and lord, he followed with the fiddlers his rein
beside.

Then he threw his leg o'er his charger, that hero so bold and
fair,
And boots did he wear of leather, or else had his limbs been
bare.
And his mouth it was e'en as a ruby, and red, as a fire doth
burn,
And full, not too thin; fair his body wherever the eye might
turn; 80
And fair was his hair and curling, and wherever one saw the
skin

I ween 'twas as costly cover as ever a head might win.
And of samite green was his mantle, and the sable shone
dark thereon
Tho' white was his vest, and the gazers they came in a
goodly throng.
And many must ask the question, 'Who was he, the beardless
knight 85
Who rode with such pomp of riches?' Then the tale it was
spread aright,
For they spake it as truth who knew it—So they drew to the
bridge anear
The folk of the town, and his people; and so bright was the
radiance clear
That shone from the queen that it thrilled him thro' his strong
limbs, that goodly knight,
And he braced himself as a falcon that plumeth its wings for
flight,90
And the lodging he deemed it goodly; so thought he that
hero wise;
And his hostess with joy beheld him, the lady of fair Waleis!

Then the king of Spain he heard it, how there stood on the
open plain
The tent that at Rassalig's bidding Gamuret as his prize did
gain
At Patelamunt, and the tidings a knight to his lord would
bring— 95
Then he sped as a deer, joy's vassal I ween was the gallant
king!
And thus spake the knight, 'Thy kinsman, and the son of
thine aunt I saw,
And with pomp and in state as aforetime, so to-day doth he
hither draw;
There are floating a hundred pennons full fair by his
knightly shield,
And around his high pavilion they stand on the grassy field,
100

And green as the grass the pennons, and the hero bold doth
bear
Three anchors of snow-white ermine on every sendal fair.'

'Hath he come here arrayed for battle? Ah! then shall men
see straightway
How he spurreth him swift to the onslaught, how he striveth
in knightly fray!
Long time hath the proud King Hardeiss his anger against
me shown, 105
Here in joust shall Gamuret fell him, and good fortune shall
be mine own!'

Then straightway he sent a message to Gaschier, the Norman
knight,
Where he lay with many a vassal; and Killirjacac the fair
and bright,
For here had they come at his bidding—The twain at King
Kailet's side
Towards the fair pavilion with a goodly following hied. 110
And Zassamank's king was joyful, for he held them dear at
heart:
And the time over-long had seemed them since they must
from each other part,
This they spake of a true heart truly—And the king he was
fain to know
What knights should be here for the Tourney, who valour
and skill should show.
Then spake unto him his kinsmen, 'From distant lands they
came, 115
The knights whom love's power hath brought here, many
heroes of dauntless fame.'

'Here Uther Pendragon fighteth, and with him his Breton
host;
One grief as a thorn doth vex him, his wife hath the hero
lost,

The queen who was Arthur's mother; a clerk who all magic
knew
With him hath she fled, and Arthur doth after the twain
pursue; 120
'Tis now the third year since he lost them, his son alike and
wife—
And here is his daughter's husband, a hero well skilled in
strife,
King Lot is his name, of Norway—swift seeketh he
knighthood's prize,
But slow are his feet to falsehood, the knight so bold and
wise.
And here is his young son Gawain; as yet he too weak shall
be 125
For any deed of knighthood—but now was the boy with me,
And he spake, were he not too feeble a spear-shaft as yet to
break
He were fain to do deeds of knighthood, in the Tourney his
part would take!
His lust for strife waketh early! Here Patrigalt's king hath
brought
Of spears a goodly forest; yet their valour shall be as naught
130
When weighed against the gallant doings of the men of
Portugal,
Yea, bold we in truth may call them, and shields do they
pierce right well.
And here are the men of Provence, with many a blazoned
shield;
And here the Waleis, to their onslaught the foemen perforce
must yield,
And they ride at their will thro' the combat, for men of the
land are they.135
Many fight here for love's rewarding whose title I may not
say,
But all whom I here have named thee now lie, and the truth I
tell,

At great cost here within the city, for so the queen deemed it
well.'

'And without on the plain they hold them who deem their
prize lightly won,
Proud Arragon's haughty monarch, and the brave king of
Askalon. 140
Eidegast, he is there from Logrois, and the King
Brandelidelein
(The monarch is he of Punturtois), there too is bold
Lähelein.
And Morhold is there of Ireland, many pledges that knight
hath ta'en;
And many a haughty German doth camp on that battle plain.
To this country the Duke of Brabant hath come thro' the
King Hardeiss;145
The king of Gascony gave him his sister the fair Aleiss,
(Yet his service ere that won payment) wrath against me
those princes drew:
Now I trust thee to think of our kinship—For love's sake do
me service true!'
Quoth the king of Zassamank, 'Cousin, no thanks would I
have from thee
Whate'er I may do for thine honour, my will e'en as thine
shall be.150
Doth thine ostrich yet stand un-nested? Thou shalt carry its
serpent's head
'Gainst thy foeman's demi-gryphon, my anchor shall swift be
sped,
And find in his onslaught landing; himself shall a haven
seek
Behind his steed on the gravel! If our wrath we be fain to
wreak,
And ride one against the other, I fell him, or he felleth me—
155
On my knightly faith as a kinsman this word do I swear to
thee!'

Then Kailet he sought his lodging, and his heart it was gay
and light.
Then arose on the plain a war-cry, 'fore the face of two
gallant knights,
They were Schyolarz of Poitou, and Gurnemanz of Graharz,
On the plain did they meet together; ere the eventide might
pass 160
The knights in their troops they rode forth, here by six and
there by three,
And they did gallant deeds of knighthood—nor otherwise
might it be.

And now it was fully noontide, and the knight in his tent
abode;
Then the king of Zassamank heard this, that o'er all the field
they rode,
'O'er the length and the breadth they gallop, and in knightly
order fight.'165
And thither he rode, the hero, with many a banner bright;
But he rode not in search of conflict, at his leisure he
thought to see
What was done by one side and the other of fair deeds of
chivalry.
On the plain did they spread his carpet, where the knights in
strife would close,
And the shriek of the wounded horses o'er all the tumult
rose. 170
The squires stood round in a circle mid the clash of the
ringing steel,
And the heroes for fair fame battled, and the swords sang for
woe or weal.
There was sound as of splintered spear-shafts, but none need
to question, Where?
And his walls were of meeting foemen, by knightly hands
builded fair.

And so near was I ween the jousting that the maids from the
hall above175
Might look on the toil of the heroes—But sorrow the queen
did move
Since the king of Zassamank did naught, nor mingled him in
the fight,
And she quoth, 'Ah! why came he hither? I had deemed him
a gallant knight!'
(Now the King of France, whose fair wife brought Gamuret
sorrow sore
When he fought for her sake, lay lifeless, and the queen
sought the wide world o'er180
To know if from heathen countries he had come to his land
again.
'Twas love's power to the search that drove her, for love did
her heart constrain.)

And many brave deeds were done there of many a poor man
bold,
Who yet for the highest strove not, which the queen for their
prize had told,
Herself and her two fair kingdoms,—they thought not such
prize to gain,185
But they battled for other booty, tho' their hearts were for
payment fain.

Now clad was Gamuret's body in the harness whereby his
wife
Might bring to her mind forgiveness, and the ending of bitter
strife.
The Scotch King Friedebrand sent it, as a gift, to repay the
woe
That with conflict he heaped upon her, nor shall earth of its
fellow know.190
Then he looked well upon the diamond—'twas a helmet,
thereon they bound

An anchor, and jewels so precious were within its setting
found;
Nor small were the stones, but costly, and the weight it was
none too light
Of that helmet, and yet he bare it, and decked was the guest
for fight

And what was his shield's adorning? of gold of Araby fair,
195
And the boss it was rich and costly, and heavy the weight he
bare.
And the red gold shone so brightly that mirrored the face
therein,
And an anchor beneath of sable—I were fain to myself to
win
That wherewith the knight was girded, full many a mark its
worth.
And wide was the coat emblazoned, and it reached e'en unto
the earth,200
And I ween that few in battle such raiment shall think to
wear.
And if I have skill to praise it, or its value aright declare,
It shone e'en as when there burneth thro' the night-time a
living flame,
And never a tint was faded, and its shimmer as lightning
came,
A feeble eye had feared it! And with gold was it all
inwrought, 205
That in Kaukasus' distant mountains from out of the rock
was brought
By gryphon claws, for they guarded, and shall guard it unto
this day.
And from Araby came the people who stole it by craft away,
—
Elsewhere shall be none so precious,—and they bare it to
Araby

Where they weave Achmardi and Pfellel, and no vesture like
that shall be!210
His shield, round his neck he hung it—There stood a charger
proud,
Well-nigh to the hoof was it armed—and the squires cried
the war-cry loud,
And he sprang on his steed as he found it; and many a spear
of might
Did he break with strong hand in the Tourney, and where
men did the closest fight
There he brake a way thro' the mêlée, and came forth on the
further side,215
And ever behind the Ostrich the Anchor did close abide.

Gamuret smote from off his charger Poytewin of
Prienlaskors
And many another hero, their pledge must they yield
perforce.
But what knight bare the cross he rejoiced him in the hero's
valiant deeds,
And much did he win by his valour, since he gave him the
captured steeds.220

Now four banners, with self-same bearing, were led 'gainst
that gallant knight,
(And bold riders they rode beneath them, and their lord was
a man of might,)
And on each was the tail of a gryphon; and that hinder part I
trow
Was e'en as a hailstorm smiting, so rode they in goodly row.
And Gascony's king before them the fore part of that
gryphon bare 225
On his shield; he was skilled in battle, and his body was
armed full fair
As women alone might arm him; and he rode forth his
knights before

Where he saw on a helm the Ostrich, but the Anchor towards
him bore,
And he thrust him from off his charger, the brave king of
Zassamank,
And made of him there his captive. Here close thronged the
knightly ranks,230
And the furrows were trodden level, and their locks must the
sword-blade know,
And many a wood was wasted, and many a knight laid low
—
And they who thus fell, 'twas told me, they turned their
chargers round
And hied to the back of the Tourney, where none but the
cowards were found.

And so near was I ween the combat that the women might
see aright 235
Who there won the prize of valour; Rivalein that love-lorn
knight
With his spear hewed afresh a token, of Loheneis was he
king,
And the crash of the splintered spear-shaft did aye with his
onslaught ring.
Of a knight did Morhold rob them, for he drew him from off
his steed
And lifted him up before him (unseemly methinks such
deed) 340
And Killirjacac they called him,—and ere this King Lac had
ta'en
Such payment from him as in falling a knight from the earth
may gain—
So his deeds had been fair and knightly; then this valiant
man he thought
He would take him with never a sword-thrust, and the knight
in his arms he caught.
Then the hand of the valiant Kailet it smote from the saddle-
bow 245

The Duke of Brabant, Prince Lambekein, and the hero was
laid alow.
And what think ye they did, his soldiers? Their swords into
shields they turned,
And with them did they guard their monarch—And ever for
strife they yearned.

Then the King of Arragon smote him Uther Pendragon old,
From his charger adown on the meadow fell the king of the
Bretons bold,250
And the flowers stood fair around him—Ah! I courteous am
I, I trow,
Since the Breton before Kanvoleis I lay on such couch alow,
Where never the foot of a peasant hath trodden unto this day,
Nay, perchance they may never tread there—'tis the truth
and no lie I say—
No more might he keep his saddle as he sat on his steed of
yore, 255
But his peril his friends forgat not, they fought fiercely the
hero o'er.

And many a course was ridden; and the king of Punturtois
Fell prone in his horse's hoof-tracks on the field before
Kanvoleis,
And low did he lie behind it—'Twas Gamuret dealt the blow
—
'Ride on, on thy course, thou hero, and tread thy foemen
low!' 260
Strife giveth whereon to trample! Then Kailet, his kinsman
true,
Made the Punturtois his captive, tho' he scarce pierced the
mêlée thro'.
Brandelidelein was prisoner, and his folk they had lost their
king,
In his stead another monarch to their host did they captive
bring.

And hither and thither sped they, the heroes, in armour good,
265
And by blows and by trampling kneaded, of alum I ween
their food;
And dark on their skin the swellings, and many a gallant
knight
Might speak, as he knew, of bruises he had won him in hard-
fought fight.

Now as simple truth I say it, little rest was their portion here,
By love were they forced to conflict, many shields with their
blazon clear,270
And many a goodly helmet whose covering the dust should
be.
And the meadow with flowers was sprinkled, and green turf
ye there might see,
And there fell on it many a hero, who of honour had won
such meed—
More modest were my desiring! 'Twould content me to sit
my steed.

Then the king of Zassamank rode forth a space from the
knightly fray275
Where a rested steed did wait him, and the diamond he
loosed alway,
With no thought of pride in the doing, but the breezes blew
fresh and cool,
And the squires unbound his vizor, and his lips shone so red
and full.

I have named unto ye a lady—Her chaplain did hither ride,
And with him three noble pages, and strong squires were
there beside;280
And pack-horses twain they led there, and the will of their
queen they'ld do,
She was Lady of France, Anflisé—Her chaplain was wise
and true,

And straightway he knew the hero, and in French should his
greeting be,
'Soit le bien venu, mon beau sire' to my lady as e'en to me,
As queen of France she reigneth whom the lance of thy love
doth smite,285
And he gave to his hand a letter, and therein read the gallant
knight
A greeting fair, and a token it held of a finger-ring—
As pledge of the truth of his mission the chaplain the same
must bring
His lady of old received it from the hand of the Angevin—
Then he bowed as he saw the letter. Would ye hear what was
writ therein?290

'Here biddeth thee love and greeting a heart that hath ne'er
been free
From grief since it knew thy service—Thy love is both lock
and key
To my heart, and my heart's rejoicing! For thy love am I like
to die,
If thy love afar abideth, then all love from my heart shall fly.
Come thou, and take from my true hand crown, sceptre, and
kingdom fair,295
It falleth to me as heirdom, and thy love well may claim a
share.
As payment for this thy service rich presents I send to thee,
Four pack-horses' chests well laden—I would thou my
knight shouldst be
In this the land of the Waleis, 'fore the city of Kanvoleis.
I care not if the queen shall see it, small harm may therefrom
arise,300
For fairer am I, and richer, and I think me shall better know
To take the love that is proffered, and love in return bestow.
Wilt thou live in true love as shall 'seem thee? Then here do
I bid thee take
My crown as thy love's rewarding—This I pray for my true
love's sake.'

And no more did he find in the letter—Then his squires once
more they drew305
O'er his head the under-helmet; from Gamuret sorrow flew,
And he bound on the helm of diamond, 'twas harder than
blade might pierce,
For he thought again to prove him, and ride forth to conflict
fierce.
And the messengers did he bid them to lead to the tent for
rest:
And he cleared a space around him wherever the conflict
pressed. 310

This was vanquished, and that one victor—Did a knight o'er-
long delay
To win to him fame in battle, his chance might he find to-
day.
Here twain would joust together; in troops would these
others ride;
And the customs of friendly combat for a space did they lay
aside,
And sworn brotherhood nothing counted 'fore the strength of
fierce anger's might,315
And the crooked was seldom straightened; nor spake they of
knightly right,
What they captured they kept, uncaring if another's hate they
won,
And from many lands had they ridden who with brave hands
brave deeds had done,

And their hurts but little grieved them. Here Gamuret heard
her prayer,
And e'en as Anflisé bade him, as her knight to the field
would fare;320
'Twas a letter had brought the tidings—Ah! he giveth his
courage rein,
Is it love or the lust of battle that driveth him on amain?

Great love and strong faith they quicken his strength into life
anew.
Now see where his shield he beareth, King Lot, that hero
true,
His foemen to flight had forced him save for Gamuret's
strong right hand,325
His charger in gallant onslaught brake its way thro' the
threatening band,
And Arragon's king was smitten from his horse with a spear
of reed,
'Schaffilor was his name, and the spear-point which thrust
him from off his steed
Bare never a waving pennon, from paynim lands 'twas
brought,'
And the knight made the king his captive, tho' his folk they
had bravely fought.330
And the inner force drave the outer far back on the grassy
plain.
'Twas a good vesper-play, yea, a Tourney; many spears did
they smite in twain—

Then Lähelein 'gain wax wrathful, 'Shall our honour be reft
away?
'Tis the fault of him of the Anchor! Now one of us twain to-
day
Shall lay in short space the other on a couch that he liketh
ill, 335
For here are they well-nigh victors!' Then they cleared them
a space at will,
And no child's play it was that combat—In such wise with
their hands they wrought
That a woodland was well-nigh wasted; and alike from their
squires they sought
'New spears! New spears! Bring them hither!' Yet Lähelein
he must know
Sorrow and shame, for his foeman thrust him down from his
horse alow,340

And he smote him the length of the spear-iron in a shaft of
reed made fast,
And one read of itself his surety, for the knight to the earth
was cast.
(Yet better I like to read them, sweet pears on the ground
that lie
As thick as the knights lay round him! for his was the
victory!)

And the cry arose from many who had fallen in joust before,
345
'Fly! Fly! For the Anchor cometh!' Then a knight towards
him bore,
(A prince of the Angevin country) and grief was his comrade
true,
For he bare a shield inverted, and sorrow it taught anew
To the King, for the badge he knew it—Ah! why did he turn
aside?
If ye will, I the truth will tell ye, 'twas given in royal pride
350
By Galoes the son of Gandein, Gamuret's brother true,
Ere Love this guerdon gave him that the hero in joust she
slew.

Then he loosed from his head the helmet: nor thro' grass, nor
thro' dust and sand
Did he make him a way to the conflict, but he yielded to
grief's command;
And his thoughts within him battled, that he sought not ere
this to hear355
From Kailet, his friend and kinsman, how it fared with his
brother dear
That he came not here to the Tourney—Alas! tho' he knew it
not,
He had fallen before Monthorie—Sore sorrow was there his
lot,

For to anguish did love constrain him, the love of a noble
queen;
For his loss had she grieved so sorely that death had her
portion been.360

And tho' sorely Gamuret sorrowed, yet had he in half a day
So many spear-shafts broken, were it Tourney indeed this
fray
Then had he a woodland wasted. Did I think me to count
each spear
One hundred in fight had he shattered, each blazoned with
colours clear—
But the heralds, they won his pennons, in sooth were they
theirs of right—365
Then toward the fair pavilion he turned him, the gallant
knight.
And the Waleis squire rode after; and his was the coat so
fair,
All pierced and hewn with sword-thrust, which he did to his
lady bear;
And yet with gold was it precious, and it shone with a fiery
glow,
And right well might ye see its richness. Then joy did the
queen's heart know,370
And she spake, 'A fair woman sent thee, with this knight, to
this distant land!
Now, courteous, I must bethink me lest these heroes
ashamed shall stand
Who have risked their fate in this venture—goodwill unto all
I bear,
For all do I count my kinsmen, since Adam's flesh we share,
Yet Gamuret's hand, I think me, the highest prize hath won.'
375
But by wrath constrained they battled till the shadows of
night drew on,
And the inner host the outer by force to their tents had
brought,

Save for Askalon's king and Morhold thro' the camp they
their way had fought.

Some were winners, and some were losers, and many sore
shame had earned,
While others won praise and honour. Then the foe from each
other turned,380
Here no man might see—He who holdeth the stakes, if no
light he show,
Who would cast the dice in the darkness? To such sport were
the weary slow!

Men well might forget the darkness where Gamuret did
abide,
'Twas as day—That in sooth it was not, but light shone on
every side
From many small tapers clustered. There, laid on the olive
wood, 385
Was many a costly cushion, and by each couch a carpet
good.
Then the queen, she rode to the doorway with many a maid
of rank,
For fain would they see, those ladies, the brave king of
Zassamank.

Many wearied knights thronged after—The cloth had they
borne away
Ere she came to the fair pavilion; then the host he uprose
straightway,390
And the monarchs four his captives (and many a prince was
there),
And she welcomed him with due honour, and she saw him,
and deemed him fair.
Then glad spake the queen of the Waleis, 'Thou art host
where we twain do stand,
And I, even so I think me, am hostess o'er all this land,

If thou deem it well I should kiss thee, such kiss seemeth
good to me!'395
'Thy kiss shall be mine if these heroes, e'en as I, shall be
kissed by thee,
But if princes and kings must forego it, 'twere unfit I such
boon should crave!'
'Yea, e'en as thou wilt, so be it, tho' ne'er saw I these heroes
brave!'
Then she kissed, e'en as Gamuret prayed her, these princes
of noble line,
And he prayed her to sit, and beside her sat the King
Brandelidelein!400

Then lightly they strewed, o'er the carpet, green rushes yet
wet with dew,
And he sat him down upon them whose presence brought
joy anew
To the gracious queen of the Waleis; and love did her soul
constrain,
And as Gamuret sat before her his hand did she clasp again,
And she drew him once more towards her, and she set him
her seat beside.405
No wife was she, but a maiden, from whose hand did such
grace betide.
Would ye know the name they called her? Herzeleide the
queen was she,
(And her cousin was hight Rischoydè, King Kailet should
her husband be,
And he was Gamuret's cousin), and so radiant the queen, and
bright,
That e'en though they quenched the tapers, in her presence
'twould still be light!410
(Were it not that a mighty sorrow his joy which aloft would
fly
Had beaten to earth, I think me he had wooed her right
readily.)

And courteous they spake to each other: then cup-bearers
drew anigh,
And from Assagog the vessels, and their cost might no man
deny;
And noble pages bare them, many costly bowls and fair, 415
Of precious jewels wroughten, and wide, none too small,
they were,
And none of them all were golden—'twas the tribute of that
fair land,
Which Eisenhart oft had proffered, when love's need nerved
his knightly hand.
And the drink unto each they proffered in many a coloured
stone,
And of emerald some, and of sardius, and of ruby some
wrought alone.420

Then there drew near to his pavilion two knights who their
word must swear,
(To the outer host were they captive and from thence to the
town would fare.)
And one of them was King Kailet; and he looked upon
Gamuret,
And he saw him sit heavy-hearted, and he spake, 'Dost thou
sorrow yet
For all men they own thy valour; Herzeleide and kingdoms
twain 425
Hast thou won, and all tongues have said it, to thy praises all
men are fain,
Be they Britons or men of Ireland—Who speaketh with
foreign tongue,
If France be their land, or Brabant, with one voice they thy
praise have sung,
That none here both skill and wisdom in strife like to thine
have shown.
True letter it is I read thee! No slumber thy strength hath
known, 430

When these knights thou hast put in peril who surety ne'er
sware of old,
Brandelidelein the monarch, and Lähelein, hero bold;
And Hardeiss and King Schaffilor; yea, and Rassalig the
Moor,
Whom thine hand before Patelamunt o'erthrew and he surety
swore,
Such lesson thou there didst teach him—Yea, this doth thy
fame desire435
That with every coming conflict it broader shall wax and
higher.'

'The queen sure will deem thou ravest, if in this wise thou
praisest me,
Yet I think not that thou shalt sell me, since the buyer the
flaw shall see;
Thy mouth is o'er-full of praises! Say, how hast thou come
again?'
'The worthy folk of Punturtois, this knight from fair
Champagne 440
And myself have loosed, and Morhold who this nephew hath
stolen of mine
Will set him free, if on thy part thou wilt free
Brandelidelein;
Otherwise are we captive to them, both I and my sister's son,
But such grace thou wilt surely show us—Here such vesper-
play was run
That it cometh not to a Tourney this while before Kanvoleis,
445
And in sooth do I know how it standeth! Here sit they before
mine eyes,
The strength of the outer army—now speak, tell me when
and how
They could hold the field against us? Much fame hast thou
won, I trow!'

Then the queen she spake to the hero from a true heart full
tenderly,
'Whate'er be my claim upon thee, I pray thee to let it be. 450
I were fain of thy service worthy—If here I my right shall
claim,
And thine honour thereby be tarnished, I will leave thee nor
mar thy fame!'

Then he sprang to his feet, the chaplain of Anflisé the wise
and fair,
And he quoth, 'Nay, my queen doth claim him, at her will to
this land I fare.
For his love hath she sent me hither, for his love she afar
doth pine,455
And her love layeth claim upon him and hers shall he be, not
thine.
O'er all women I ween doth she love him: here as
messengers hath she sent
Three princes, lads free from falsehood; and the one is hight
Lazident
Of noble birth from Greenland, and in Kärlingen doth he
dwell,
And his own hath he made the language; and the second his
name I'll tell,460
Liodarz he, a count his father, and Schyolarz was he hight.
And who was the third? Will ye hearken, his kinship I'll tell
aright:
Belleflur she hath been his mother, Pansamur was his
father's name,
Liahturteltart they called him, of the race of the fays he
came.
Then they ran all three before him, and they spake, 'Wouldst
thy fortune prove?465
(The queen of France doth proffer the chance of a worthy
love.)
Thou shalt play the game, and never a pledge shall be asked
from thee,

Nor thy joy be to sorrow forfeit, as it waxeth still fair and
free!'

Then e'en while they spake their errand Kailet he had ta'en
his seat
'Neath a fold of the royal mantle, and she spake to him low
and sweet,470
'Now say, hath worse harm befallen? Methinks I the wounds
have seen?'
In that same hour his wounds and bruises she sought out, the
gracious queen,
With her white hands so small and shapely, which their
wisdom from God must win,
And sore was he cut and wounded on nose and on cheek and
chin.
He had won for his wife the cousin of the queen who such
honour fair475
Would show him, herself would she tend him, and her hands
for his hurts should care.

Then e'en as courtesy bade her she spake unto Gamuret,
'The fair queen of France, it seemeth, her heart upon thee
hath set;
Now honour in me all women, and give what I here may
claim,
Go not till men judge betwixt us, else thou leavest me here
to shame.'480
This he sware unto her, the hero, and leave she from him
would crave,
And she passed thence, and then King Kailet, that monarch
so true and brave,
He lifted her to her saddle; and he turned him about once
more
And came into the pavilion, where his kinsman and friends
he saw.

Then spake he unto King Hardeiss, 'Aleiss thy sister fair 485

She proffered her love, I took it—Now wedded is she
elsewhere,
And a better than I is her husband! No longer thus wrathful
frown,
Prince Lambekein, he hath won her—tho' in sooth she shall
wear no crown,
Yet honour enough is her portion—Brabant and Hennegau
Do her service, and many a brave knight doth unto her
bidding bow. 490
If thy mind it shall turn to greet me let thy favour be mine
once more,
And take thou again my service of a true heart as aye of
yore.'

Then the king of Gascony answered as befitted a hero brave,
'Yea, soft is thy speech, yet if greeting I give thee as thou
dost crave,
Who hath offered to me such insult, men will deem fear
such grace hath won,495
For captive am I to thy cousin!' 'Yet ill shall he deal with
none,
Gamuret, he shall grant thy freedom, that boon my first
prayer shall be:
No man shall thereto constrain thee, yet my service the day
shall see
When thou as thy friend shalt claim me. For the shame, 'tis
enow I wot,
For whate'er thou mayst do against me, thy sister, she
slayeth me not!'500

Then all at his words laughed loudly. But their mirth it was
soon o'erpast
For his true heart the host constrainèd, and desire held him
once more fast,
And a sharp goad I ween is sorrow—Then the heroes they
saw right well

How he wrestled anew with sorrow and his joy in the
conflict fell;
And his cousin he waxed right wrathful, and he spake, 'Now
thou doest ill.'505
'Nay, nay, for I needs must sorrow, and naught may my
yearning still
For the queen I have left behind me, afar on a heathen shore,
Pure wife and true is that lady, and my heart she hath
wounded sore.'

'And her purity doth constrain me to mourn for her love so
sweet,
Vassals and lands she gave me; yet joy for a true knight meet
510
Belakané of that hath robbed me! yet shame for a wavering
mind
I think me is right and manly—With such fetters her love did
bind
That she held me afar from Tourney, nor in search of strife I
went;
Then I thought me that deeds of knighthood should free me
from ill-content,
And here have I somewhat striven—Now many a fool would
say 515
That I, for her colour, fled her, to my eyes was she light as
day!
For her womanhood true I sorrow; o'er all others her worth
stood high
As the boss from the shield outstandeth. And another grief
have I,
And here make I my moan unto ye, my brother's arms I saw,
But the shield on which they were blazoned, with point up-
turned they bore.'520
(Ah! woe for the words that are spoken, and the tidings of
grief they bring!)
His eyes they o'erflowed with water, that gallant Spanish
king,

'Alas! O queen for thy madness, thro' thy love is Galoes
slain,
Whom every faithful woman from her heart shall mourn
amain
If she would that her dealing win her true honour in true
man's thought.525
Ah! queen of Auvergne I think me, tho' small grief it to thee
hath brought,
Yet thro' thee have I lost my kinsman, tho' his ending was fit
and fair,
For a knightly joust hath slain him who thy token in strife
would bear!
And these princes here, his comrades, their heartfelt grief
they show,
As in funeral train their shield's-breadth do they turn to the
earth below,530
For thus hath great sorrow taught them—In this guise do
they knightly deeds,
Heavy-hearted that he, my cousin, serveth no more for true
love's meed!'

He hath won him another heart-grief as his brother's death is
told,
And he spake aloud in his sorrow, 'Now mine anchor hath
found its hold
And its haven in bitter rueing,' and the badge did he lay
aside, 535
And his grief taught him bitter anguish, and aloud the hero
cried,
'Galoes of Anjou! henceforward shall never a man deny
That on earth ne'er was born thine equal for manhood and
courtesy,
And the fruit of a free hand knightly from thine heart did it
bloom amain.
Ah! woe is me for thy goodness!' then to Kailet he spake
again, 540
'How goeth it with Schoettè, my mother, of joy bereft?'

'So that God hath had pity on her! When Gandein this life
had left,
And dead was Galoes thy brother, and thou wert not by her
side,
And she saw thee no more, then death brake her heart, and
she too hath died!'

Then out quoth the Gascon Hardeiss, 'Turn thy will to a
manly mien,545
Thou shalt mourn but in fitting measure if true manhood
thine own hath been!'
But too great was the load of his sorrow, and the tears as a
flood must flow
From his eyes—Then all things he ordered that the knights a
fair rest might know,
And he went where he saw his chamber, of samite the little
tent,
And in grief and sore lamentation the hours of the night he
spent. 550

When there dawned another morning the knights together
came,
The inner host and the outer, all who thought there to win
them fame;
Were they young or old, were they cowardly or brave, they
fought not that day.
And the light grew to middle morning: yet so worn were
they with the fray,
And the horses so spent with spurring, that the knights in
battle tried 555
Were yet by weariness vanquished—Then the queen herself
would ride,
And the valiant men from the open would she bring to the
town again,
And the best of the knights within there she bade ride to the
Leo-plain;

And straightway they did her bidding, and they rode in their
knightly ranks,
And they came ere the Mass was ended to the sad king of
Zassamank. 560

Then the benediction spoken, Herzeleide the queen she
came,
And e'en as the folk upheld her, so she laid to the knight her
claim:
Then he spake, 'A wife have I Lady, and than life shall she
be more dear,
Yea, and e'en if I were without her thou another tale shouldst
hear
That afar should drive me from thee, if men here shall list
my right!' 565
But the queen she looked upon him, and she spake to the
gallant knight:

'Thou shalt leave thy Moorish lady for my love; stronger far
shall be
The blessing that baptism giveth! From heathendom set thee
free,
And wed me in Christian marriage, since my heart for thy
love doth yearn.
Or say shall the French queen's message to my shame and
my sorrow turn? 570
Sweet words did they speak her people, and thou heardest
them to the end!'
'Yea, she is in truth my lady. When I back to Anjou must
wend,
Then fair counsels and courteous customs with me from her
land I brought;
Yea, even to-day doth she help me whom from childhood to
man she taught.
She hath fled all that mars a woman—We were children
then, she and I, 575

Yet gladly we saw each other in the days that are long gone
by!
The noble queen Anflisé, in true womanhood hath she share,
From her lands a goodly income she gave me, that lady fair,
(In those days was I still a poor man), yet I took it right
willingly,
As a poor man thou still shalt count me, and Lady, shalt pity
me, 580
He is dead, my gallant brother—Of thy courtesy press me
not,
Turn thy love where thou findest gladness, for sorrow is aye
my lot!'

'Nay, let me not longer sorrow; how wilt thou deny my
claim?'
'Thy question I'll gladly answer, here a Tourney thou didst
proclaim,
That Tourney hath not been holden, as many shall witness
bear' 585
'For the vesper-play hath marred it! The knights who had
foughten there
So well have they tamed their ardour that the Tourney hath
come to naught,'
'I did but defend thy city with others that bravely fought;
Thou shouldst force me not to withstand thee, here have
others done more than I,
Mine the greeting that all may claim here, other right would
I still deny!'590

Then, so hath the venture told me, they chose them, both
man and maid,
A judge o'er the claim of the lady, and their cause they
before him laid,
And it drew near to middle morning, and thus did the verdict
run,
'What knight hath bound on his helmet, and hath hither for
conflict come,

And hath fought, and the prize hath holden, then that knight
he shall wed the queen.'595
And unto the judgment spoken the knights gave consent I
ween.
Spake the queen, 'Mine thou art, and I'll yield thee fair
service thy love to gain,
And will give thee of joy such portion that thy life shall be
free of pain!'

And yet bare he grief and sorrow—Now the April sun was
o'er,
And had left behind a token in the garment the meadow
bore, 600
With short green grass was it covered, so that coward hearts
waxed bold,
And won afresh high courage; and the trees did their buds
unfold
In the soft sweet air of the May-tide, and he came of the
fairy race
That aye loveth, or sweet love seeketh, and his friend she
would show him grace.

Then he looked on Queen Herzeleide, and he spake to her
courteously,605
'If in joy we would live, O Lady, then my warder thou shalt
not be,
When loosed from the bonds of sorrow, for knighthood my
heart is fain;
If thou holdest me back from Tourney I may practise such
wiles again
As of old when I fled from the lady whom I won with mine
own right hand;
When from strife she would fain have kept me I fled from
her folk and land!'610
Then she spake, 'Set what bonds thou willest, by thy word
will I still abide.'

'Many spears would I break asunder, and each month would
to Tourney ride,
Thou shalt murmur not O Lady when such knightly joust I'ld
run!'
This she sware, so the tale was told me, and the maid and
her lands he won.
The three pages of Queen Anflisé and her chaplain were
nigh at hand,615
As the judgment was sealed and spoken they must hearken
and understand,
And he spake to the knight in secret, 'To my lady this tale
was told
How at Patelamunt thy valour did the guerdon of victory
hold,
And that there two kingdoms served thee—And she too hath
lands I trow,
And she thinketh herself to give thee, and riches and gold
enow!'620

'As knighthood of old she taught me so must I hold fast
alway
By the strength of the knightly order, and the rule of the
shield obey.
Thro' her my shield have I won me, else perchance I had
worn it not,
Here doth knightly verdict bind me, be sorrow or joy my lot.
Go ye homeward, and bear my service, her knight will I ever
be, 625
And for her is my deepest sorrow tho' all crowns were
awaiting me!'
Then he proffered to them of his riches, but his gifts did they
cast aside.
Yet was she not shamed their lady, tho' homeward they
needs must ride!
And they craved not leave, but they rode thence, as in anger
ye oft shall find,

And the princes' sons, her pages, well-nigh did they weep
them blind.630

They who bare their shields inverted their friends spake to
them this word,
'The queen, fair Herzeleide, hath the Angevin for her lord.'
'Say, who from Anjou hath fought here? Our lord is, alas,
elsewhere;
He seeketh him fame 'gainst the heathen, and grief for his
sake we bear!'
'He who shall be here the victor, who hath smitten full many
a knight,635
He who smote and pierced so fiercely, he who bare on his
helm of light
An anchor rare and costly, that knight is the knight we mean,
And King Kailet he spake his title, Gamuret Angevin—I
ween
Good fortune doth here befall him!' Then swift to their
steeds they sprung,
And their raiment was wet with the tear-drops that grief
from their eye-lids wrung,640
When they came where their lord was seated they gave him
a welcome fair,
And he in his turn would greet them, and sorrow and joy
were there.

Then he kissed his knights so faithful, and spake, 'Ye no
more shall make
Such measureless moan for my brother, his place I with ye
will take.
Turn your shields again as befits them, and as men who
would joyful fare;645
My anchor hath struck its haven; my father's arms I'll bear,
For the anchor it is a symbol that befitteth a wandering
knight,
He who willeth may take and wear it. I must rule my life
aright

As now shall become my station: I am rich now, when shall
I be
The lord of this folk? For my sorrow it worketh but ill to me.
650
Queen Herzeleide, help me that thou and I may pray
The kings that are here and princes for my service awhile to
stay,
Till thou unto me hast yielded that which love from true love
may crave!'
Thus both of them made petition, and the heroes their
promise gave.

Then each one went to his chamber, and the queen to her
knight spake low,655
'Now yield thyself to my tending, and a hidden way I'll
show!'
For his guests did they care as fitting tho' the host was no
longer there,
The folk they were all together, but the knight he alone must
fare
Save for two of his pages only—Then the queen and her
maidens bright
They led him where gladness waited, and his sorrow was put
to flight,660
And regret was o'erthrown and vanquished—And his heart it
waxed high and brave
As is ever the lot of lovers! and her maidenhood she gave
The queen, fair Herzeleide: nor their lips did they think to
spare,
But close did they cling in kisses; grief was conquered by
joy so fair!

Then courteous deeds were begun there; for free were his
captives set,665
And the Kings Hardeiss and Kailet were made friends by
Gamuret.

And such marriage feast was holden that he who had
proudly thought
Hereafter to hold such another much riches thereto had
brought.
For this did Gamuret purpose, his wealth he would little
spare,
But Arabian gold did he scatter mid the poor knights; and
jewels rare670
Did he give to the kings and princes who were there with the
host I ween;
And glad were the wandering players, for rich gifts had their
portion been.

Let them ride whom he there had feasted, from the Angevin
leave they prayed.
Then the panther the badge of his father on his shield they in
sable laid;
And a small white silken garment, a shift that the queen did
wear, 675
That had touched her naked body who now was his wife so
fair,
This should be his corslet's cover. And of foemen it saw
eighteen
Pierced thro' and hewn with sword-blade ere he parted from
her his queen,
And aye as her love came homeward on her body that shift
she drew:
And many a shield had he shattered; and their love it waxed
strong and true.680

And honour enow was his portion ere his manly courage
bore
The knight o'er the seas to conflict, for his journey I sorrow
sore.
For there came unto him true tidings, how the Baruch, his
lord of old,
Was beset by mighty foemen, by Babylon's princes bold:

And the one he was called Ipomidon, and Pompey his
brother's name 685
(For so hath the venture told me), a proud man of warlike
fame.
('Twas not he whom Julius Cæsar had driven from Rome of
yore).
His uncle was Nebuchadnezzar, who in books found the
lying lore
That he himself should a god be, (o'er this would our folk
make sport)
And of noble race these brothers, nor of strength nor of gold
spared aught.690
From Ninus they came who was ruler ere ever Bagdad might
be,
Nineveh did he found—Now an insult and a shame vexed
them bitterly,
The Baruch as vassals claimed them—So the combat was
won and lost,
And bravely the heroes battled, and on each side they paid
the cost.
Thus Gamuret sailed the water, and aid to the Baruch
brought, 695
And gladly he bade him welcome; tho' I weep that that land
he sought!

How it chanced there, how went the conflict, gain or loss,
how the thing might be
Naught of that knew Queen Herzeleide; and bright as the
sun was she,
And her form it was fair to look on, and both riches had she
and youth,
And more than too much her gladness! I think me in very
truth 700
She had sped past the goal of all wishes—And on wisdom
her heart was set,
And she won from the whole world favour; her fair deeds
with fair guerdon met,

And all men praised Herzeleide, the queen, as both fair and
true,
And the queen of three kingdoms was she, of Waleis and fair
Anjou,
Of these twain was she aye the ruler; and beside them in far
Norgals705
Did she bear the crown and sceptre, in the city of Kingrivals.
And so dear did she hold her husband, if never a maid might
win
So gallant a man, what recked she? She counted it not for
sin.

As for half a year he was absent she looked for his coming
sure,
For but in the thought of that meeting might the life of the
queen endure.710
Then brake the sword of her gladness thro' the midst of the
hilt in twain,
Ah me! and alas! for her mourning, that goodness should
bear such pain
And faith ever waken sorrow! Yea, so doth it run alway
With the life of men, and to-morrow must they mourn who
rejoice to-day!

So it chanced that the queen one noontide in a restless
slumber lay,715
'Twas as if with a start she wakened and by lightning was
borne away,
And towards the clouds it bare her, and they smote her with
mighty force,
The fiery bolts of Heaven, as they sped on their downward
course,
And sparks sprang from her floating tresses mid the fire of
the circling spheres,
And the thunder crashed loud around her, and the rain-drops
were burning tears.720

For a little space was she conscious, then a grip on her right
hand fell,
And, lo! it was changed, the vision, and wondrous things
befell;
For then did she nurse a dragon, that forth from her body
sprung,
And its dragon life to nourish awhile at her breast it hung,
Then it fled from her sight so swiftly she might look on it
never more:725
And her heart it brake for the anguish, and the terror and
grief she bore.

And never methinks a woman in slumber such woe hath
seen,
But now had she been so joyful, alas! all was changed I
ween,
And sorrow should be her portion, and her ill it waxed long
and wide,
And the shadow of coming sorrow did still on her heart
abide. 730

Then she did what afore she could not, for the terror that on
her lay,
She stretched her limbs in her slumber, and moaned in her
grief alway,
And she cried aloud on her people; and many a maid sat by
And they sprang to her side at her summons, and wakened
her speedily.

Then Tampaneis he came riding, of her husband's squires the
chief, 735
And many a page was with him, and joy's goal was
o'erpassed in grief,
And they cried, 'He was dead, their master!' And her senses
forsook the queen,
And she fell aback in her anguish—And the knights spake,
'How hath this been?

Hath our lord been slain in his harness, who ever was armed
so well?'
And tho' sorely the squire must sorrow, to the heroes the tale
he'ld tell:740
'No long life should he have, my master! His helm he put off
awhile,
The heat thereto constrained him—'twas accursed heathen
guile
That stole him from us, our hero—A knight took a he-goats
blood,
And from a long glass he poured it on the helmet of
diamond good,
And softer than sponge grew the diamond. May He Whom
as Lamb they show745
With the Cross in His hold, have mercy on the deeds that are
wrought below!'

'Then when one host met the other: Ah! that was indeed a
fight,
And the knights who were with the Baruch they fought all as
men of might,
And there in the field by Bagdad full many a shield was
pierced,
As they flew each one on the other, and they mingled in
charges fierce,750
And banner was mixed with banner, many fell who had
bravely fought,
And my lord's hand it did such wonders that his foemen
became as nought,
But Ipomidon he came riding, and with death would reward
the knight,
And he smote him down, and I think me many thousands
they saw that sight.'

'For my master, free from falsehood, rode against
Alexandria's king,755

But, alas! for the guile of the heathen, this joust but his death
should bring,
For the spear cut sheer thro' the helmet, and it pierced thro'
my master's brain
(In his head did they find the splinters), yet the hero still
held the rein,
And dying he rode from the combat, o'er a wide plain his
way he'ld take,
And his chaplain he knelt above him, and in few words his
shrift he spake.760
And he sent here the shift and the spear-blade that hath
robbed us of our friend,
He died free from sin—us his servants he did to the queen
commend!'

'At Bagdad was the hero buried, and the Baruch the cost
would pay,
With gold is it fair to look on, and rich is the tomb alway;
And many a costly jewel doth gleam where he lies at rest,
765
And embalmed was the fair young body (sad was many a
faithful breast);
And the grave-stone it is a ruby, and thro' it he shineth clear,
And they granted us as with martyrs, the cross o'er his tomb
to rear,—
For as Christ by His death hath freed us, and to comfort that
soul so brave,
And for shelter we raised the symbol—And the Baruch the
cost he gave.770
For the cross was of emerald wroughten: heathen counsel we
asked it not,
For they know not the Cross, nor the blessing that Christ's
death won for us I wot!
And the heathen they pray unto him as if he were a god in
truth,
Nor they do it the Cross to honour, nor hath Baptism taught
them ruth

(Tho' it looseneth us from Hell's fetters when the uttermost
day shall dawn),775
But his knightly faith and honour, who leaveth us here
forlorn,
Have wrought him a place in Heaven where he shineth with
Heaven's light,
And true penitence and confession—for falsehood e'er fled
that knight.'

'And there in his diamond helmet an epitaph did they grave,
And fast to the cross they fixed it o'er the tomb of that hero
brave,780
And thus do they run the letters: '(Through this helmet a
joust hath slain)
This hero who bare all manhood, and Gamuret was his
name,
As king did he rule o'er three kingdoms, in each land the
Crown he wore
Whom mighty princes followed—Anjou's land this hero bore,
And he lost his life for the Baruch at the city of Bagdad
fair.785
And so high did it soar, his honour, that no knight may with
him compare,
Howe'er ye may test their dealings. Nor is he of woman
born,
(I mean of the knightly order) to whose hand he his strength
had sworn.
But help and true manly counsel to his friends did he
steadfast give;
And thro' women much grief he suffered, for he would in
their favour live. 790
Baptized was he as a Christian tho' Saracens mourn him yet,
(This is truth and no lie)—All his lifetime since his years
were on wisdom set
His strength strove for fame and honour, till he fell in his
knightly pride,

Wish him bliss who here lieth buried! 'Twas by treason's
hand he died!'

So spake the squire, and the Waleis who heard it must weep
full sore,795
Cause hast they enow for sorrow! A living child she bore
Who of men was left unaided, Herzeleide the gracious
queen,
With death the mother battled: her maidens were crazed I
ween,
Since they thought not to help their lady, for within her
womb she bare
Him who should be flower of all knighthood, if death did
not claim him there.800
Then there came a wise man ancient to weep with his lady's
grief,
And he saw how with death she struggled, and he brought to
her swift relief;
For he forced her teeth asunder, and betwixt her lips they
pour
Water, and at their tending her senses they came once more.
Then she spake, and aloud she mourned him, 'My heart's
dearest, Ah! where is he?805
For in sooth my heart's deepest gladness was in Gamuret's
chivalry,
Yet his valour of this hath robbed me—Now his mother am I
and wife,
Tho' far younger was I, for within me do I carry his flesh
and life;
The love that we bore to each other hath been of such flower
the root,
And if God shall in truth be faithful, He withholdeth not
here the fruit.810
Already too sore my sorrow for my husband so proud and
brave,
What ill death hath wrought upon me! Her love never
woman gave,

But his heart it rejoiced in her gladness, and sad for her grief
was he,
Thus his true heart it gave him counsel who was aye from all
falsehood free.'

Now hearken yet more the story how the noble queen must
mourn, 815
Within her arms would she hold him, her child who was yet
unborn,
And she spake, 'Now God send me safely the child of my
hero fair,
For this is my heart's petition; God keep me from dark
despair,
'Twere Gamuret's second slaying if I thought myself to slay
While I bear of his love the token who was faithful to me
alway!' 820

Then careless of who might see her, the robe from her neck
she tore,
And her fair white breasts she tended with the wisdom of
mother-lore,
To her rosy lips she pressed them, 'Ah, thou food that shall
feed my son,
He hath sent thee before his coming who life from my life
hath won!'

And the queen it nothing vexed her that above her heart it
lay 825
The milk that her child should nourish, and softly she spake
alway,
'Twas true love that brought thee hither, if I yet unbaptized
should be
From thee had I won my baptism, and the tears which shall
flow so free,
And openly and in secret will I mourn for my husband dear!'
Then the shift with his life-blood crimsoned she bade them
to bring anear,830

(Thus clad in the Baruch's army had Gamuret lost his life,
For he chose him a gallant ending in the turmoil and stress
of strife),
And then for the spear she prayed them wherewith was her
husband slain,
From Nineveh's Prince Ipomidon such guerdon he needs
must gain.
And tho' tattered and hewn to pieces yet the queen fain the
shift would wear,835
As aforetime had been her custom when her lord did from
Tourney fare,
But her maidens who stood around her they took it from out
her hand,
And they carried them to the Minster, the highest from out
her land,
And the spear and the blood they buried as men bury a hero
dead,
And sorrow and bitter mourning thro' Gamuret's kingdom
spread. 840

And when fourteen days were ended a babe lay the queen
beside,
'Twas a son, and so great and goodly that the mother had
well-nigh died.

Now 'tis cast the die of the venture, and here doth my tale
begin,
For now is he born who henceforward this song for his own
shall win.
And now have ye heard the story of his father, his love and
grief, 845
Of his gallant life, and the treason that ended its span so
brief;
And ye know whence he came, the hero of this tale, and how
for long
He was hidden from deeds of knighthood, till his youth it
waxed bold and strong.

When the queen found sight and hearing she was fain on her
child to look,
And her maidens they bare him to her and the babe in her
arms she took;850
And she saw his limbs soft rounded, and she knew she had
born a son,
And her maidens with her were joyful that the earth had a
man-child won.
(As he bare of a man the body, so manly was he of heart,
As a smith did he wield the sword-blade till fire from the
helm would start)
And no joy did she know, the mother, save ever her babe to
kiss, 855
And with soft words she spake to him ever, 'Bon fils, Cher
fils, Beau fils.'

And e'en as herself she bare him, so herself she his nurse
would be,
At his mother's breast was he nourished who was ever from
falsehood free.
And she thought she had won her husband by her prayers to
her arms again,
She all folly forsook, and meekness and truth in her heart
did reign.860

And musing spake Herzeleide, 'The queen of Heaven high
Gave her breast to the dear Lord Jesu Who a bitter death
would die
As Man on the cross for man's sake, for thus did His love
begin:
Who thinketh light of His anger his soul's peace shall hardly
win,
Tho' he else were brave man and worthy—and this tale do I
know for true!'865
Then the queen of the land she bathed her in heart sorrow's
bitter dew,

And her eyes on the babe rained tear-drops as soft in her
arms it lay,
For hers was the way of women, where a true heart holdeth
sway;
She could laugh and weep together, her heart joyed for her
baby's birth,
Yet the ford of her bitter sorrow had drowned in short space
her mirth.870

BOOK III
GURNEMANZ
ARGUMENT

In the Introduction the poet speaks of the honour in which he holds all true
women, though he be wroth with one who has wronged him. Yet, though
women shall count him their friend, he would fain that they should honour
him for his knightly deeds, rather than for this his song.
In Book III. he tells of the sorrow and the faith of Queen Herzeleide; of
Parzival's childhood; of his meeting with the knights; of his faring forth to
seek knighthood from King Arthur; and of the death of Herzeleide. How
Parzival met with Jeschuté, and robbed her of her token, and of the wrath of
her husband Orilus. Of the sorrow of Siguné, and how Parzival learnt his
name and his lineage. How Parzival met with the Red Knight and bare his
challenge to the court of King Arthur, and how he craved a boon of the
king. Of the shaming of Kunnewaaré; and of the death of the Red Knight.
How Parzival came to Gurnemanz of Graharz and was cured by him of his
folly and taught all knightly wisdom, and how he rode forth from the land
of Graharz.

BOOK III
GURNEMANZ
Is there ever a singer among you, who singeth a sweeter
song
Of the favour and love of women, I hold not he does me
wrong!
Full fain am I still to hearken to aught that may give them
joy,
But to one alone among women my homage I still deny.
Nay, ever the fire of my anger doth kindle and flame anew, 5

And the sorrow her treason wrought me, it grieveth me still I
trow!
I, whom men have named the singer, I, Wolfram of
Eschenbach,
The words that against a woman I spake, I may ne'er take
back.
Nay, I hold fast my wrath for ever, and clasp it closer still,
As I think how in soul and body alike hath she wrought me
ill! 10
How can I do aught but hate her, till death setteth seal on
life?
Yet it grieveth me sore that others should mingle in this our
strife;

It grieveth me sore that maidens should say, as they name
my name,
'Forsooth he hath shamed all women, let it be unto him for
shame!'
Nay, then, an they reckon for evil the words that in grief I
spake, 15
I will speak them no more for ever, though my heart should
in silence break!
But let them beware in their anger, these warlike maidens
fair,
How they stir from his eyrie the eagle, rouse the lion from
his lair!
Full well I know how to defend me, full well know I what
beseems
The maid of a knight's devotion, the maid of the poet's
dreams! 20
Let a maiden be steadfast-hearted, pure and true in word and
deed,
And her champion true she'll find me, comes there ever an
hour of need.

I hold his renown waxeth slowly, and halteth upon the road,

Who, for wrong at the hand of one woman, shall slander all
womanhood:
But if any will look upon me, and hearken to what I sing, 25
Of a sooth I will not deceive them, though my tale over-
strange may ring.
Born was I unto the bearing of knightly shield and spear,
And though sweet be the song of the singer, I hold it not all
too dear:
I had rather my love should love me for my deeds of high
renown,
Than because in the hall of the Wartburg they should crown
me with music's crown!30
With the shield and the spear of knighthood will I seek for a
knight's reward,
Nor charm, with the harp of the singer, what I failèd to win
with the sword!

Nor in praise of fair women only runs this tale that I have to
tell,
Full many strange deeds it holdeth, and marvels that once
befell
Ere the course of this wondrous venture be tracèd unto its
end; 35
Yet he who heareth shall reckon, if he fain would account
me friend,
That this is no book he readeth, for no maker of books am I!
But a singer of strange adventures, and of knightly prowess
high:
Stripped bare will I be of all honour, naked and reft of fame,
Ere I trust my renown unto letters, and give to a book my
name! 40

It vexes me, soul and body, that so many should bear the
name
And speak with the tongue of women, who reck not of
woman's fame;

That those who have known no falsehood, and those who are
swift to fall,
Should carry one name in common, be counted as sisters all!
A truth that has faltered never, a faith that has aye withstood,
45
Is the only glory of woman, the crown of her womanhood!

Many will say, 'What good thing can come out of poverty?'
She who for love endures it, she 'scapeth Hell thereby,
And, in the kingdom of Heaven, receiveth a hundredfold
For all she has borne for love's sake, new joys for her
sorrows old!50
Not one have I known in my lifetime, I count it a bitter truth,
Neither a man nor a maiden, who the joy and the pride of
youth,
And all earth's riches and honour, will leave as a worthless
thing
If weighed with the glory of Heaven, and the service of
Heaven's King!
But Queen Herzeleide only, she left her fair estate, 55
In her youth of all joy bereavèd, with sorrow afar to mate.
So holy was she and gentle, so faithful and pure of mind,
That no tongue spake a word against her, and no eye a fault
could find.
Sunlight or shadow, what recked she? the day was to her as
night,
For her heart was the home of sorrow, and dead was the
world's delight.60
And in sorrow and grief she wandered, till she came to
Soltanè's strand,
A woodland wild and lonely afar from her native land:
Fair flowers might bloom and blossom without, on the sunlit
plain,
And be woven in rosy chaplets, but for her they would
bloom in vain!
And there, mid the woodland shadows, she hid with
Gamuret's son, 65

For she willed that her life's last treasure be revealed unto
none:
So she called her folk around her, (who toiled in the upland
field
With oxen and plough, that the furrows their daily bread
might yield,)
And she charged them all, by the service which she as their
queen might claim,
That they hide from the boy his birthright and the fame of
his father's name.70
'For the knightly deeds ye vaunt of, and the glory and pride
of war,
Have wrought me but heart's affliction, and trouble and
anguish sore,
So, lest I yet more should suffer, I pray you, my servants
dear,
That ye speak no word of knighthood, lest my son perchance
should hear!'

Then full sore were her people grievèd, for they held it an
evil thing,75
And a training that ill beseemèd the son of a mighty king.
But his mother kept him hidden in the woodland valleys
wild,
Nor thought in her love and sorrow how she wronged the
kingly child:
No knightly weapon she gave him, save such as in childish
play
He wrought himself from the bushes that grew on his lonely
way, 80
A bow and arrows he made him, and with these, in
thoughtless glee,
He shot at the birds as they carolled o'erhead in the leafy
tree.

But when the feathered songster of the woods at his feet lay
dead,

In wonder and dumb amazement he bowed down his golden
head,
And in childish wrath and sorrow tore the locks of his sunny
hair; 85
(For I wot well of all earth's children was never a child so
fair
As this boy, who afar in the desert from the haunts of
mankind did dwell,
Who bathed in the mountain streamlet, and roamed o'er the
rock-strewn fell!)
Then he thought him well how the music, which his hand
had for ever stilled,
Had thrilled his soul with its sweetness, and his heart was
with sorrow filled,90
And the ready tears of childhood flowed forth from their
fountains free
As he ran to his mother weeping, and bowed him beside her
knee.
'What aileth thee child?' quoth the mother, 'but now wast
thou gay and glad'—
But, childlike, he gave no answer, scarce wist he what made
him sad!

But Queen Herzeleide watched him through the sunny
summer days, 95
Till beneath a tree she saw him stand silent, with upturned
gaze,
And a look of joyful rapture in the radiant childish eyes,
As he listed the bird, that, soaring, sang clear thro' the
cloudless skies;
And the mother's heart was troubled, and her wrath waxed to
fever heat,
She would brook in his love no rival—not even God's
singers sweet!100
So she sent forth in haste her servants, with many a cunning
snare

To capture the singers whose music made joyful the
woodlands fair.
Then, alas! for the birds, who struggled in the cruel snare in
vain,
Yet some few burst their bonds, and joyful, brake forth into
song again!

Then the boy spake,'Now sweet my mother, why trouble the
birds so sore?105
Forsooth they can ne'er have harmed thee, ah, leave them in
peace once more!'
And his mother kissed him gently, 'Perchance I have
wrought a wrong,
Of a truth, the dear God who made them, He gave unto them
their song,
And I would not that one of his creatures should sorrow
because of me.'
But the boy looked up in wonder, 'God, Mother? Who may
God be?' 110
'My son, He is light beyond all light, brighter than summer's
day,
And He bare a Man's Face, that we men might look on His
Face alway!
Art thou ever in need of succour? call on Him in thine hour
of ill,
And be sure He will fail thee never, but will hear thee, and
help thee still.
Yet one there is dwelleth in darkness, and I wot men may
fear him well,115
For his home is the house of falsehood, and his kingdom the
realm of Hell!
Turn thy mind away from him ever, nor waver betwixt the
twain,
For he who doubteth, his labour shall ever be wrought in
vain.'

Thus his mother read him the riddle, the myst'ry of day and
night,
The dread and the doom of darkness, and the glory and
grace of light!120
Then javelin in hand he hastened thro' the forest pathways
wild,
And the deer sprang up from their thickets, and fled from the
dauntless child;
But clear-eyed and eager-footed he hastened upon their
track,
And full oft with a hornèd trophy, at even he hied him back.
Little cared he for rain or sunshine, summer's storm or
winter's snow,125
And daily in strength and beauty all men might behold him
grow;
Till at length no beast so mighty thro' the forest wild did
roam,
If it fell 'neath his shaft, unaided, on his shoulder he bore it
home!

It chanced thro' a woodland thicket one morn as he took his
way,
And brake from o'erhanging bushes full many a leafy spray,
130
That a pathway steep and winding rose sharply his track
anear,
And the distant beat of horse-hoofs fell strange on his
wondering ear.
Then the boy grasped his javelin firmly and thought what
the sound might be;
'Perchance 'tis the devil cometh! Well, I care not if it be he!
Methinks I can still withstand him, be he never so fierce and
grim,135
Of a truth my lady mother she is o'er-much afraid of him!

As he stood there for combat ready, behold, in the morning
light,

Three knights rode into the clearing, in glittering armour
bright;
From head to foot were they armèd, each one on his gallant
steed,
And the lad as he saw their glory thought each one a god
indeed! 140
No longer he stood defiant, but knelt low upon his knee,
And cried, 'God, Who helpest all men, I pray Thee have
thought for me!'

Then wroth was the foremost rider as the lad barred his
further way,
And he spake out, 'This stupid Waleis will hinder our work
to-day!'
(Now here would I give to the Waleis the fame we Bavarians
hold; 145
They are duller than e'en our people, yet manly in strife and
bold.
And in sooth were one born in both countries such marvel of
strength and skill
Would he hide in himself that I think me their fame he might
well fulfil!)

Then there rode swift with hanging bridle, in costly harness
dight,
With plumed and jewelled helmet another gallant knight;
150
Swiftly he came as thirsting to challenge in mortal fight
The foe who sped far before him, who had done him a sore
despite;
For two knights from out his kingdom a maiden had borne
away,
And he held it a deed most shameful and one he must needs
repay;
For the maiden's sorrow grieved him, and fain would he ease
her pain:155

(And the three knights who rode before him were part of his
warlike train.)
He rode a Spanish war-horse, and his shield had fierce
conflict seen,
And Karnachkarnanz did they call him (he was Ulterleg's
count I ween).
Then he cried to his knights, 'Why loiter? who barreth our
onward way?'
And straight on the lad did he ride there, who deemed him a
god alway,160
For ne'er had he seen such glory; his harness shone fair with
dew,
And on either foot the stirrups with golden bells rang true.
And their length was e'en as fitting, and with bells did each
strong arm ring,
As he stirred himself, or his sword-blade in battle aloft
would swing.
And the hero was swift in seeking the guerdon of knightly
prize, 165
So he rode here, the prince, and had decked him in a fair and
wondrous wise.

Then spake this flower of all knighthood, 'Say, boy, did they
pass thy way?
Two knights who have shamed their knighthood, nay,
robbers I ween are they,
For they bear a maiden with them, and she rideth against her
will!'
Yet the boy, tho' he spake with a man's tongue, as a god must
account him still;170
For he thought how Queen Herzeleide had told him that God
was Light
And dwelleth in Light for ever; and so to his dazzled sight
This knight, in his shining armour in the glow of the
summer's day,
Was the God of his mother's lesson, and he knelt him again
to pray.

But the prince he spake full gently, 'Fain am I to do God's
will, 175
And yet for no God I hold me, but a sinful mortal still.
Nay, wert thou more clear of vision, thou wouldst see, an
thou sawest aright,
No Lord of the host of Heaven, but only a humble knight!'

'Knight?' quoth the boy in answer, 'Nay! I wot not what that
may be,
Is thy strength not of God, but of knighthood, then I would
such were given to me!'180
'Then wend thy way to King Arthur, an thou camest unto his
court,
A noble knight he would make thee, ashamed and afeared
for naught,
For sure, now I look upon thee, thou com'st of a noble
strain.'
Then his knights they turned their bridles, and gazed at the
boy again.
Full well might they look and wonder, at the work that God's
Hand had wrought,185
For they say, who tell this story, that never could human
thought
Have dreamed of aught so goodly, since ever the world
began,
For of all men beloved by women, was there never so fair a
man!
Loud they laughed as the boy spake further, 'Good knight,
what may these be?
These rings that so close around thee, above and below I
see.' 190
Then he handled, with curious finger, the armour the knight
did bear,
His coat of mail close-linkèd as behovèd a knight to wear;
And he spake as he looked on the harness, 'My mother's
maidens string

On their chains, and around their fingers, full many a
shining ring,
But they cling not so close to each other as these rings that
here I see,195
I cannot force them asunder, what good are they then to
thee?'

Then the prince drew forth from its scabbard his shining
blade so keen,
'Now see, he who fights against me, must withstand my
sword I ween,
And lest he, on his part, should slay me, it is fit that with
mail and shield,
I ward me against his spear-thrusts, and the blows that his
arm may wield.'200
Swiftly the lad made answer, 'Little good would it do the
deer
An their coats were e'en such as thine is, they would fall still
beneath my spear.'

Full wroth were the knights and scornful that their lord thus
long had talked
With this lad with the face of an angel, and the speech as of
one distraught;
Then the prince he spake full gently, 'God keep thee in His
good grace,205
I would that my shield's bright mirror might show me as fair
a face!
Nay, an the Giver of all gifts but gave thee wit enow
To match with a mien so goodly, full rich wert thou then I
trow!
May He keep all sorrow from thee, and thy life be a
summer's day—'
And with that he turned his bridle, and wended once more
his way. 210
Then adown the woodland pathway they rode, till they came
full soon

Where the carles of Queen Herzeleide toiled hard thro' the
sultry noon:
The fields must they plough and harrow, if a harvest they
hoped to reap,
So they goaded the patient oxen to their toil on the hillside
steep.

Then the prince he gave them 'Good-morrow,' and asked if
there passed that way215
A maiden in need and sorrow? and they dared not to say him
nay;
But they answered him e'en as he prayed them, and they
spake 'Yea, at early morn
Two knights and a maiden passed here, and the maiden, she
wept forlorn,
And the knights as they rode beside her, spurred ever her
flying steed.'
Then the prince knew his foe, Meljakanz, and his wrath
waxed hot indeed,220
On his tracks he followed swiftly, and they who this venture
tell,
Say he won back in fight the maiden ere the shadows of
evening fell.

But sore were the queen's folk troubled that the heroes had
chanced that way,
And they spake, 'God forbid that our queen's son fall in with
these knights to-day!
An he chances to light upon them in the pride of their
warlike gear,225
It will anger full sore our mistress if by hap she the tale
should hear:
And ill-luck will it bring upon us that, ere ever the dawn of
day,
With us while his mother slumbered, to the woods he stole
away!'

Little recked the boy of their trouble as he chased the flying
deer,
And shouted in youthful gladness, as they fell before his
spear 230
Then homeward he sped to his mother, but ere he his tale
might tell
She was smitten with deadly terror, and low at his feet she
fell.

Then soon as Queen Herzeleide found hearing and speech
once more
Her boy was she fain to question tho' her heart it misgave
her sore;
'Who spake to thee, son, of knighthood? What knowest thou
of such-like rede?'235
'I met in the woods, sweet mother, four men I deemed gods
indeed,
So light were they all and shining, God Himself ne'er could
brighter be,
And of knighthood they spake and King Arthur, who might
well make a knight of me!'
Then her sorrow of old-time wakened, and the queen in her
heart she sought
For some cunning wile of woman, that her boy from his will
be brought.240

When the simple lad and gallant would crave from her hand
a steed,
Tho' heavy her heart, she bethought her in naught to gainsay
his need,
'Yet not as he asks will I give him, no mother's gifts be mine,
But ever the worst and the meanest that my skill may aye
divine.'
And she thought her, Queen Herzeleide, 'Many folk thro' the
world shall fare245
Who love mocking—On his fair body my son shall a Fool's
dress wear,

Then sure when the mockers see him, and to scoff at his
garb are fain,
An he at their hands be smitten, then he cometh to me
again!'
Alas! for a woman's cunning, and the cruelty of mother's
love,
She chose from her stores a sackcloth, the coarsest that
might be wove,250
And a garment of this she made him that should reach e'en
unto his knee;
For his sunny hair such covering as on fools men are wont to
see;
And instead of hose she bound him on his limbs so strong
and fair
Leggings of undressed calf-skin—And all wept who beheld
him there.

Then his mother with forethought bade him to tarry till
morning light,255
'Nor from hence would I have thee journey till my rede thou
hast heard aright—
'Keep thou ever from paths untrodden and ford not the
darkling stream,
Where the waters flow clear and limpid, there safe is the
ford I ween.
And be ever fair and courteous, greet all men who pass thy
way.
If a wise man old and grey-headed would teach thee, as well
he may,260
All courteous ways and fitting, as his word so shall be thy
deed,
Nor wax wroth if by whiles he chide thee, but give to my
words good heed.
And one thing, my son, would I tell thee, canst thou win from
a maid her ring
And her greeting fair, thou shalt take them, and sorrow hath
lost her sting!

If a kiss from her lips she will give thee, and thine arms shall
the maid enfold,265
Be she pure and true thou art blessèd, and thy strength shall
wax high and bold!'

'And hearken my son, a proud knight, Lähelein, do men call
his name,
From thy princes two lands hath wrested, else from them
couldst thou tribute claim.
And Waleis they are and Norgals—and one of thy princes
brave,
Turkentals, hath he slain, and thy people he hath smitten and
doth enslave.'270
'For such wrong will I vengeance, mother, if vengeance be
here God's will,
Be he never so strong with my javelin I think me to wound
him still.'

Then e'en at the daylight's dawning the boy would no longer
stay,
For the thought of King Arthur's glory yet heavy upon him
lay.
Then Queen Herzeleide kissed him, and she sped swift his
steed behind,275
And the sorrow of sorrows smote her when her boy she no
more might find.
(Hence he rode and what heart rejoiceth?) Then the queen
from all falsehood free,
Fell low on the earth, and grief tare her till death must her
portion be!
Yet I wot that her death so faithful it hath saved her from
pains of Hell,
And to be of such son the mother, it repayeth all anguish
well! 280
Thus she, the root of all goodness whence humility's flower
might blow,

Herself on a pilgrimage wended that a goodly goal should
know.
Woe worth us! that none of their children should live still, to
hand us down
In these days when we look on falsehood their honour and
fair renown.
And therefore shall faithful women wish well to this lad so
bold, 285
Who rideth fair ventures seeking, whose journey ye now
behold!

Then the gallant lad rode onward on his way toward
Briziljan's wood,
And he came to a rippling streamlet, and a cock well might
wade that flood!
And flowers in the grass were blooming, yet so darkling ran
the wave
That the lad he thought not to ford it; but as wit the counsel
gave,290
So he followed its course thro' the daylight, and he passed as
he could the night,
Till he saw once more the morning, and he came to a fair
ford bright.
On the further side was a meadow, and a tent decked the
grass so green,
And tall was the tent wide-spreading, and riches thereon
were seen;
'Twas of samite of threefold colours, on the seams lay fair
ribbons wide,295
And a leathern covering hung there, 'gainst the rain-cloud to
guard its pride.

('Twas Duke Orilus of Lalande, whose wife he beneath it
found—
She lay there in peaceful slumber with riches happed fair
around,
A Duchess she was, well worthy the love of a gallant knight,

And the venture it tells that Jeschuté was the name of that
lady bright)300

Softly the princess slumbered,—yet weapons of love she
bore;
A mouth so red and glowing, that a knight's heart had
wounded sore,
And e'en as she slept they parted asunder, her lips so bright,
That the fire of love had kindled, (fit venture for gallant
knight)
And even as ivory snow-white, and little, and close the row
305
Of the teeth that gleamed white betwixt them—methinks
that a man were slow
To use himself to such kisses from a mouth that all men
might praise—
I wot that so fair a guerdon but seldom hath crowned my
days!

A covering of richest sable over foot and knee was thrown,
(For the heat she aside hath cast it, whom her lord had thus
left alone)310
And her form it was fairly fashioned, and wrought by a
skilful hand,
Since 'twas God Himself in His wisdom who so fair a work
had planned.
And long was her arm and rounded: on her snow-white hand
a ring
Gleamed golden, and when he saw it the lad to her side did
spring;
For had not his mother told him such jewels were the
guerdon fair 315
That a knight well might crave? and he thought him he fain
would such token bear!

Then the lady awoke in terror as his clasp on her white arm
fell,

And gazed in startled wonder and wrath as beseemed her
well;
'Who is it, who thus would shame me? Nay, sir, thou art all
too free!
Go, choose thee some fairer maiden, my favours are not for
thee!' 320

In vain might she weep and bewail her; he asked not her yea,
or nay,
But took from her lips unwilling the kiss she would fain
gainsay;
And the ring of gold from her finger with ungentle hand
he'ld take,
And the clasp that her shift had fastened from the garment
he roughly brake:
In vain were her tears and struggles, she was but a woman
still, 325
And his strength was to hers as an army, perforce must she
do his will.
Then the lad spake aloud, he hungered, from his hand was
the lady free,
And she quoth, 'Of a truth 'twere better thou shouldst not
make meal of me!
If thou wert but a little wiser thou wouldst choose thee some
other meat,
There stand bread and wine, and two game-birds, of them
mayst thou freely eat,330
Methinks when my maiden brought them, 'twas scarcely of
thee she thought!'
Then he asked not where sat the hostess, but he ate e'en as
hunger taught,
And he drank his fill; and the lady she deemed all too long
his stay,
For she thought him bereft of his senses, and she wished he
were well away,
And for fear and shame the sweat-drops stood thickly upon
her brow—335

And she spake, 'Thou my ring shalt give me, and the clasp
thou didst take but now,
And get thee away, if he cometh, my husband, then shalt
thou bear
The weight of his wrath, and I think me thou wouldst then
wish thyself elsewhere!'

Quoth the noble youth, 'What care I how fierce thy lord's
wrath may be?
If my presence doth shame thine honour, then from hence
will I swiftly flee.'340
And he stepped to the bedside boldly, and kissed her as there
she lay,
Tho' little it pleased the Duchess, and without leave he rode
away;
And he spake a word of parting as he vaulted upon his steed,
'God have thee in His safe keeping, so my mother she gave
me rede.'

Then the lad he was glad of his booty, and thus did he ride a
while—345
Methinks there was little lacking that from hence he had
gone a mile,
Ere he came of whom I would tell you: on the dew he the
tracks might see
Of one who had sought his lady—The tent-ropes displaced
should be
Where the lad thro' the grass had ridden; then the gallant
Duke and proud
Found his lady within in sorrow, and Orilus spake aloud,
350
'Alas! for the service done thee—for smitten and put to
shame
Is the crown of my knightly honour, since another thy love
can claim!'
Then little, alas! might it profit that with streaming eyes she
swore

No lover had she save her husband,—he would hearken her
tale no more.

Then she spake in her fear and anguish, 'Twas a fool, he who
came to me,355
And yet tho' a fool, of all men I wot he may fairest be!
My ring and my clasp gold-gleaming, he took them against
my will!'
'Nay, I doubt not so well he pleased thee, thou didst grant
him more favours still,'
'Now, God forbid! for his fool's garb and his javelin were
e'en too near,
It shameth us both, my husband, such words from thy lips to
hear! 360
Are queens wont to love thus lowly, that thou speakest such
words of me?
Thou wrongest our royal breeding, when thou deemest such
things may be!'

Then the Duke spake, 'This shame, O lady! alone hast thou
won from me,
Thou dost call thyself Queen no longer; tho' thy title shall
Duchess be
Little good hath that bargain brought me—So bold shall my
manhood be,365
That thy brother, King Lac's son Erec, for that cause beareth
hate to thee:
He is wise, and right well he knoweth that my fame so high
shall stand
That nothing shall stain mine honour, save at Prurein when
his right hand
In knightly joust once felled me, but that have I paid right
well,
In a joust at Karnant I smote him, and behind his steed he
fell, 370
And his pledge did he yield unto me,—thro' his shield I thy
token bare,

I thought not, my wife Jeschuté, with another thy love to
share!'
'Thou mayst also well assure thee that the son of King
Gandein,
Proud Galoes, once lay lifeless before this arm of mine;
And thou thyself wast witness when the Knight Plihopleheri
375
Rode swift in a joust against me, nor his strife it hath passed
me by,
My spear from the saddle thrust him that his charger he sat
no more;
Yea, great was the fame that I won me by my prowess in
days of yore,
Many knights have I borne from their chargers,—yet it
profiteth not I ween,
Nor outweigheth the bitter shaming that thro' thee hath my
portion been!'380

And with reason good do they hate me, those knights of the
Table Round,
Since eight of their bravest champions have I borne unto the
ground,
And many fair maidens saw it, when at Kanedig fierce we
fought
For the hawk; there was I the victor, and my hand fame to
thee hath brought
And that didst thou see with King Arthur—At his court doth
she dwell to-day,385
My sister, sweet Kunnewaaré, and grave is her mien alway,
For her lips may not move to laughter till the day that her
eyes shall light
On him who of all shall be reckoned the fairest and bravest
knight.
Would he come unto me, that hero! Ah! then should a strife
be seen
As to-day in the early morning already my lot hath been.
390

I have fought, and a prince hath suffered, for joust he toward
me sped,
But my spear-point so sorely smote him that he lay there
before me, dead!'

'Well I know that in righteous anger for a lesser sin than
thine
Full many had slain the sinner, but I would not such deed
were mine!
For the service of knightly honour that to thee I had offered
fair,395
Henceforth shalt thou know but lacking; nor thy need do I
think to spare—
No more with thy white arms circled in love and in peace I'll
lie,
Those golden days of love's glory have faded and passed us
by,
But pale be thy mouth so rosy, and tear-dimmed thy shining
eyes,
For joy shall be put far from thee, and thy heart's songs be
turned to sighs!'400

Then sadly she looked upon him, that princess so fair and
true,
'May it be for the honour of knighthood what seemeth thee
best to do,
Wise art thou indeed and loyal, and I in thy power may be,
And I know well that heavy sorrow and pain thou canst
bring on me:
To the ordeal, I prithee, put me, and do this for all women's
sake,405
Thereafter, an I be guilty, for my sin do thou vengeance
take!
If another's hand shall slay me, (for thee were such deed un-
meet)
Then gladly I'll die—Dost thou scorn me? then welcome is
death, and sweet!'

Then he broke out in bitter anger, 'If thy pride be still so
great,
It is meet I should meekness teach thee, tho' the lesson be all
too late—410
No more shall we be companions, together no more we'll
eat;
Be our marriage couch forgotten and the hours of
communion sweet.
This garment in which I found thee thy only robe shall be,
And instead of jewelled bridle hempen twist will I give to
thee;
Thy steed be the guest of hunger, and thy saddle once
decked so fair415
Shall be robbed of its goodly trappings!' and with hasty hand
he tare
The samite adown, and he brake it, the saddle she rode
erewhile,
(Nor her gentle ways and seemly might his angry wrath
beguile)
With a hempen cord he bound it—Too soon had she won his
hate!
As he did this he spake, 'Now Lady, 'tis best we no longer
wait, 420
Could I reach him who shared thy favours, then fulfilled
were my heart's desire,
The venture I'ld face, though as dragon he were breathing
forth flames and fire!'
Then with weeping instead of laughter she passed from out
the tent
That lady so rich in sorrow, and sadly her way she went;
Yet more than she mourned her shaming she wept her lord's
grief, I ween,425
His sorrow so sorely moved her, e'en death would have
lighter been.
Now of true heart shall ye bemoan her who thus did sore
anguish know,

And tho' hatred I won from all women, still I'ld mourn for
Jeschuté's woe!

So rode they upon the traces of the lad who before them
fled,
And, dauntless, he little thought him how a foeman behind
him sped,430
But whoever his eyes might light on, as his pathway they
drew anear,
He gave to him kindly greeting, 'Thus bade me my mother
dear!'

Thus rode he, our lad so foolish, adown a mountain side,
When a woman's voice before him from amid the rocks loud
cried;
'Twas a cry of heartfelt sorrow, for her joy was in ruins laid
— 435
Then swift rode the lad towards her,—Now hear what she
did, this maid:
She tore, the maid Siguné, her plaits of long brown hair
From out her head thro' sorrow; and the lad he beheld her
there,
And he saw Schionatulander, the prince, on her knee lie
dead,
And the maiden she wailed above him, and her joy had for
ever fled.440

('If sad be their mien or joyful, my mother she bade me still
Greet all men, whoe'er might meet me) God keep thee from
greater ill,
For in sooth a sorry treasure have I found on thy knee to-
day!
Who hath wounded this knight?' (For an answer the lad he
would press alway)
'Did one with a javelin slay him? For Lady, he sure is dead;
445

Wilt thou tell me naught? Who hath slain him? If he none
too far hath fled
Methinks I might overtake him, for gladly with him I'ld
fight!'
Then the lad he laid hold on his quiver wherein lay the
javelins bright,
And still in his hand tight claspèd, the tokens twain he bore
Which he in his thoughtless folly erewhile from Jeschuté
tore. 450
Had he known the courtly customs with his father's life in-
bound,
His shield were better smitten when the duchess alone he
found
Who thro' him must suffer sorrow—for more than a whole
year long,
Her husband withheld his favour, tho' in sooth did he do her
wrong.

Now list to this maid Siguné who her grief would bemoan as
meet, 455
She spake to the lad, 'Thou art courteous, all hail! to thy
youth so sweet,
And thy face so fair; yea blessèd thy lot shall hereafter be!
No javelin pierced this hero, but slain in a joust was he—
From truth wast thou born who truly for another's woe can
grieve!'
Then his name she was fain to hearken, ere the lad her side
might leave,460
And she spake, God with skill had wrought him—But his
answer was naught but this,
'At home all who know me call me 'Bon fils, Cher fils, Beau
fils!'

Ere ever the word was spoken, the maiden she knew his
name—
Now hearken aright his title, that hereafter ye own his fame

Who is hero of this my venture, who now standeth the maid
beside— 465
And her red lips they spake unfaltering, 'Thou art Parzival,'
she cried,
And thy name it shall mean 'to pierce thro',' for thy mother's
faithful heart
With furrow of grief was riven when she from her lord must
part:
And I speak not that those shouldst vaunt thee; thy mother
my aunt shall be,
And in truth, with no guile of falsehood, thy race will I tell
to thee!'470

'An Angevin was thy father, thy mother of fair Waleis,
And I know for a truth thy birthplace was the city of
Kanvoleis;
And thou art the King of Norgals, and there in the citadel
As king shalt thou bear the sceptre and crown as beseems
thee well.
For thy sake was he slain, this hero, who thy kingdom for
thee would guard,475
His truth it hath faltered never, tho' in death did he find
reward.
Two brothers have wrought thee evil, two kingdoms from
thee have reft,
And Orilus this thy kinsman in a joust hath lifeless left.
And me too hath he left in sorrow—He served me nor
thought it shame,
This prince of thy land, where my childhood did thy
mother's tending claim.480
Now fair and sweet my cousin wouldst thou hear how he
met his end?
'Twas the fair wove leash of a brachet that brought sorrow
unto my friend—
He hath served us twain, in our service hath he won him but
death alone,

And I, I have won but sorrow, and henceforth for his death
make moan,
For scant of wit was I surely, that I gave not my love afore—
485
So God hath my gladness shattered, and the dead I love
evermore!'

Then he spake, 'I must mourn, O cousin, thy grief, and my
bitter wrong,
Of a truth till I may avenge them the time seemeth over-
long!'
Then straight would he ride to battle, but the way did she
falsely show,
For she feared were he slain then henceforward yet sorer
should wax her woe.490
But a road he found that led him straightway to the Breton's
land,
And smooth and wide was that highway—An there met him
on either hand
Afoot or ahorse a merchant or knight, he would greet them
still,
For so was his mother's counsel; and she spake with no
thought of ill.

But great weariness o'ertook him, as darkened the eventide,
495
And a house that was none too stately the youth in his folly
spied.
'Twas a churl he who sat within it, discourteous by birth and
low,
(A fisherman he, little kindness might one at his hand e'er
know)
Then the lad drew rein for he hungered, and craved of him
drink and meat.
But the host quoth, 'Nay, not a half-loaf shalt thou have at
mine hand to eat500

In thirty years; he who waiteth, in the gifts of mine hand to
share,
O'er-long shall delay his journey—For none but myself I
care,
Thereafter perchance for my children—Thou comest not
here to-day,
Hadst thou money or pledge 'twere other, then thine host
would I be straightway!'505

Then Jeschuté's clasp all golden the lad he would bid him
take,
And soon as the peasant saw it, with smiling mouth he
spake,
'Wilt thou stay here, sweet lad? then due honour be thy
portion from all within—'
'Wilt thou feed me to-night and to-morrow wilt help me the
way to win
To King Arthur (for well I love him) then thyself mayst keep
the gold!'510
'Yea, that will I do,' quoth the peasant, 'for ne'er might mine
eyes behold
A face and form so comely—I will thee, as a marvel, bring
To the court, and the good Round Table, and the face of the
noble king!'

So the lad thro' the night abode there, and ere ever the dawn
of day
He roused himself full eager to get on his onward way, 515
And the fisher, he made him ready, and before the lad he ran,
And the boy he rode behind him, and swift were both steed
and man.

(Herr Hartmann von Aue, and thy lady, the queenly
Guinevere,
And thy gallant lord, King Arthur, a guest do I bring ye here;
No tool is he for your mocking, nay, never a harp or lute,
520

Ye shall choose ye some other plaything, such as courtesy
well doth suit;
Else will I thy lady Enid, and her mother Karnafite
Pass under the mill, and their honour with bitter scorn I'll
smite—
Tho' I tune my song to mocking, and thy lips with mockery
seal,
Yet here will I guard my hero lest thy scorn he perchance
should feel!)525

When the lad with his guide so humble to the city walls
drew near,
And Nantes might be well discernèd in the morning light so
clear,
'God keep thee, boy,' said the fisher, 'thou seest where thou
must ride.'
Quoth the lad yet scant in knowledge, 'Yet nearer must thou
be guide!'
'Nay, nay, so proud as these court-folk, such folly be far
from me,530
An' a peasant came nigh unto them, his welcome would
sorry be!'

So alone the lad rode onward o'er a plain that was none too
wide,
And the flowers stood fair around him and blossomed on
every side,
No Kurwenal was his teacher and of courtesy knew he
naught—
They know it not, the untravelled, till the world hath wisdom
taught—535
Of hempen twist his bridle, and feeble and faint his steed,
And oft it fell, as stumbling it went o'er the flowery mead.
And nowhere upon his saddle fair leather and new was seen;
And of samite fair and ermine full great his lack had been.
No mantle clasp he needed, nor knightly garb he wore, 540
Of blazoned coat or surcoat; his javelin alone he bore.

He whose deeds were praised of all men, his father so brave
and wise,
Was robed in far other fashion on the carpet 'fore Kanvoleis!

He who ne'er felt the sweat of terror, to him did a knight
draw near;
Then he greeted him, 'May God keep thee! thus bade me my
mother dear.'545
'God reward thee, lad, and thy mother,' swift answer the
knight would bring,
(Uther Pendragon reared him, he was cousin unto the king,
And unto the land of Bretagne did the self-same knight lay
claim)
He was Ither of Gaheviess, 'The Red Knight' they called his
name.

All dazzling red was his armour, the eye from its glow
gleamed red;550
Red was his horse swift-footed, and the plumes that should
deck its head,
Of samite red its covering; redder than flame his shield;
Fair-fashioned and red his surcoat; and the spear that his
hand would wield
Was red, yea, the shaft and the iron; and red at the knight's
desire
Was his sword, yet the blade's fair keenness was not dimmed
by the raging fire.555
And the King of Cumberland, stately, in his mailèd hand did
hold
A goblet, with skill engraven, and wrought of the good red
gold—
From the Table Round had he reft it—All red was his
shining hair
Yet white was his skin, and kindly his speech to the lad and
fair.

'Now hail to thy fair young body, that in sooth a true woman
bare, 560
Yea, blessèd is she thy mother! Ne'er saw I a face so fair,
And the light of thine eyes, I think me, is kindled by love
alone,
And Love shall in thee be victor, as by thee Love is
overthrown!
And in thee is the joy of woman, whose bliss finds in thee its
goal,
And for thee shall the load of sorrow weigh heavy upon the
soul— 565
Now do me this grace I pray thee, an thou wend thee unto
the town
Bear greeting from me to King Arthur, and his heroes of
high renown,
And say that no fleeting vision am I who now speak with
thee,
But here I abide, and await him who thinketh to joust with
me!'

'And never a man will wonder: to the Table Round I came
570
And there, in the heroes' presence to my kingdom would I
lay claim,
And with hasty hand I raised it, this cup, and the wine out-
poured
The robes of the queen besprinkled, as she sat there beside
her lord.
This I did as the custom olden of one who would claim his
right
For better I thought the wine-cup, than the straw-wisp all
alight, 575
For its smoke perchance had soiled me, thus I chose it not'
spake the king,
'Nor for robbery rode I hither, my crown doth forbid such
thing—

Say thou to the queen that the wine-drops, they fell on her
'gainst my will
Where those heroes sit, nor remember, nor their knighthood
as meet fulfil.
Whether kings they shall be or princes o'er-long doth he
thirst their king!580
This cup, why delay to fetch it? Their fame it hath taken
wing!'

Then the lad spake, 'I'll bear thy message, yea, e'en as thou
biddest me.'
And then unto Nantes fair city he gat him right speedily,
And many a youth they followed to the court of the palace
fair,
And 'twas filled with a motley gathering, and they thronged
him and pressed him there.585
Then Iwanet sprang from out them, and this youth from
falsehood free
He gave him a kindly greeting, and he proffered him
company.
And the lad he quoth, 'God keep thee, (so my mother she
bade me speak
Ere yet from home I wended) King Arthur I fain would seek
But here see I full many an Arthur! Who of all these shall
make me knight?'590
Then Iwanet laughed loud 'I will show thee, not yet hast
thou seen the right!'

To the Table Round he led him where sat the heroes all
And as best he could for the tumult cried the lad thro' the
lofty hall,
'God keep ye all ye heroes! I greet ye both queen and king,
For thus did my mother bid me fair greeting to ye to bring.
595
And all who have won by their valour at the Table Round a
seat
Ye gallant knights and heroes, ye too did she bid me greet!

But in one thing my skill doth fail me, who is host here I
may not know;
To him do I bear a message from a knight who all red doth
glow,
He waiteth without the portal (methinks he is fain to fight)
600
That he spilt o'er the queen the wine-cup that sorely doth
grieve the knight—
Ah! if I his gear so goodly from the king's hand as gift might
take,
In sooth were I rich in gladness—so knightly and fair its
make!'

Thus spake the youth gay and careless, and the courtiers
they thronged around
And hither and thither pressed him till scarce might he stand
his ground:605
And well did they look upon him, for each for himself might
see
That never in man or maiden might the fruit of love fairer
be.
And in truth it was no ill working that in Parzival God had
wrought,
In whom never a sight of terror had wakened of fear a
thought.

Thus they brought him before King Arthur, he whom God
for a wonder chose,610
And no man might bear him hatred—Then the queen from
her seat arose
And she gazed for a space upon him ere she passed from out
the hall
Where the wine from the golden goblet perforce on her
robes must fall.
Then Arthur he looked upon him—To the simple youth he
spake,
'Now lad to thy kindly greeting a kindly answer take, 615

For this would I do thee service, yea with body alike and
land;
This I speak of a true heart truly, so my will doth toward
thee stand!'

'Would to God that were true! Now I think me it well-nigh a
year shall be
That I fain would be knight, lacking knighthood all else
seemeth ill to me!
Now make thou no more delaying, be knighthood my lot
straightway.' 620
Quoth the king, 'I were fain to do so if worth fail me not
alway,
So noble art thou to look on; and goodly gifts and rare
Would I give thee; to do thee service I'll naught of my
treasure spare.
Yea, loath had I been to refuse thee, wait but for to-morrow's
light,
And I myself will dower thee with all that befits a knight.'
625

The lad like a bird new cagèd, he shook himself to and fro,
And he quoth, 'For naught do I ask thee! But that knight who
as fire doth glow
If thou givest me not his armour no gift will I take from
thee,
My mother will not withhold it—For a queen shall she
surely be.'

Then Arthur he quoth, 'That armour so gallant a knight doth
wear 630
That to give thee a gift so goodly methinks I may hardly
dare.
And guiltless I live in sorrow since his homage I must
forego,
Ither he is of Gaheviess; thro' my joy hath he wrought me
woe.'

'Now my King sure it were ungracious to say to his pleading
nay,
Thou shalt give him what he desireth, nor think it too great,'
quoth Kay,635
'Let him forth to the plain; bid him bring thee the cup if it be
thy will!
Here hast thou the whip, there the top is, let the child have of
sport his fill.
The women, forsooth, will praise him, and it seemeth good
to me
He should learn to take blows an he gives them, many such
will his portion be.
For the life of the twain what care I? Each of us needs must
have his day,640
If thy dogs for the spoil shall hunger, thou must e'en give thy
dogs their way.'
'I were loath to refuse his pleading, yet I feared lest he here
be slain,
And to knighthood I fain had helped him.' Thus Arthur he
spake again.

Thus the lad won the gift he craved for, which many
perforce must rue,
And young and old they followed, as forth from the hall he
flew. 645
By the hand would Iwanet lead him, 'fore a bower that was
none too high,
And backward and forward turning the lad gazed with eager
eye.
And the bower was so low that within it the lad he both
heard and saw,
And therefrom did he win a sorrow that vexed him with
torment sore.

The queen from her bower window to look on the sight was
fain, 650

And her knights and maidens round her they gazed and they
gazed again.
And the maiden Kunnewaaré she sat there, the fair and
proud,
And never, that man might wot of, had she laughed or low or
loud.
For never she vowed, an she died first, would she laugh ere
her eyes might see
That knight, who of knights the bravest or was, or
henceforth should be.655
As the lad rode beneath the window she brake into laughter
sweet,
And her back was sore from the guerdon—reward for a
maid unmeet!
For Kay the Seneschal seized her, the maiden of fair
Lalande,
By her waving hair, and the tresses he wound fast around his
hand,
Without a band he bound her—Tho' never an oath she sware
660
His staff he laid unknightly on her maiden shoulders fair,
And ere ever the sound of the smiting on the ear had died
away
Thro' white skin and royal raiment had he wounded the maid
that day.

And thus did he speak in his folly, 'Now hast thou thine own
fair fame
Cast aside, and I wot thou hast done it to thine own mending
shame!665
Now see, e'en in flight have I caught it, and I bring it to thee
once more
In such wise thou mayst well remember, and be e'en in the
memory sore:
For I wot well unto King Arthur, to his court and his palace
hall

Many gallant men have ridden, yet hast thou despised them
all,
And ne'er hast thou smiled upon them—And now doth thy
laughter ring670
For one knowing naught of knighthood! Unseemly I deem
this thing!'

Now whate'er might be done in anger I wot well no king's
decree
Had bid him thus smite the maiden; and her friends mourned
her bitterly.
(Might she bear knightly shield and armour it had helped not
this sore disgrace,
Discourteous the blows were smitten.) She came of a royal
race, 675
Had her gallant brothers seen it, Lähelein and Orilus
Far fewer blows had fallen; she ne'er had been smitten thus.

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 around690
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 blow710
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 meet715
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 undone725
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 gain780
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 below805
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 led830
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 took870
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 love880
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 know970
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 sped990
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
prevent1070
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 more1080
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.

BOOK IV
KONDWIRAMUR
Thus Parzival parted from them, and courteous he now
might bear
His knightly garb, and he knew them, the customs of
knighthood fair.
But alas! he full sore was troubled with many a bitter pain,
And the world was too close, and too narrow the width of
the spreading plain,
And the greensward he thought was faded, and his harness
had paled to white;5
So the heart the eye constraineth and dimmeth awhile the
sight.

For since he had waxed less simple somewhat of his father's
lore,

The desire of the man for the maiden, in his wakening heart
he bore;
And he thought but of fair Liassé, that maiden so true and
sweet,
How never her love she proffered, yet with honour the guest
would greet.10
And wherever his horse might turn it he took in his grief no
heed,
And if slowly it paced or swiftly he thought not to guide its
speed.

Nor many a field well-fencèd nor wayside cross he found;
Nor chariot-wheel nor horse-hoof had furrowed with tracks
the ground;
Untrodden the woodland pathway, nor wide was I ween the
way, 15
And he knew not the hills and the valleys—Full oft shall ye
hear men say,
'Who rideth astray, in his wandering the lost axe may often
find.'
They lay here unnumbered round him, if for axe ye have
trees in mind.
Yet tho' far was the road he journeyed yet he went in no wise
astray,
And thus from the land of Graharz he rode through the
livelong day, 20
Till he came to the kingdom of Brobarz thro' mountains wild
and high—
When the shadows of evening lengthened, and red flushed
the western sky,
Then he came to a mountain torrent, and the voice of the
raging flood
Rang clear as its waves rushed foaming round the crags that
amid them stood.
So he rode adown by the waters till he came to the city fair
25

Which a king had bequeathed to his daughter; 'twas the city
of Pelrapär,
And I wot that tho' fair the maiden who bare of that land the
crown,
Great grief and small gladness had they who dwelt in that
noble town!

Like an arrow that swiftly speedeth from the bow by a
strong arm bent,
The waters onward rushing on their downward pathway
went; 30
And a bridge hung high above them with woven work so
fair,
And the stream it flowed swift to the ocean—Well-guarded
was Pelrapär,
As children in swings delight them, and swing themselves to
and fro,
So swung the bridge, yet ropeless, youthful gladness it
scarce might know!

And on either side were standing, with helmets for battle
bound, 35
Of knights e'en more than thirty, and they bade him to turn
him round,
And with lifted swords, tho' feeble, the strife would they
gladly wait,
They thought 'twas the King Klamidé whom they oft had
seen of late,
So royally rode the hero to the bridge o'er the field so wide
—
As thus to the youth they shouted, and with one voice his
arms defied,40
Tho' he spurred his steed full sharply it shrank from the
bridge in fright,
But ne'er knew he a thought of terror—To the ground sprang
the gallant knight.

And he led his horse by the bridle where the bridge hung
high in air,
Too faint were a coward's courage so bitter a strife to dare!
And well must he watch his footsteps for he feared lest his
steed should fall—45
From the other side of the water the knights had ceased their
call,
And with shield and sword-blade gleaming within the town
they passed,
For they feared lest an army followed, and they closed their
portals fast.

So Parzival crossed the river, and he rode o'er a grassy plain
Where many in search of knighthood must death for their
guerdon gain;50
And he came to the palace portal, and stately the Burg and
high,
And there hung there a ring of iron, and he gripped it right
manfully.
But none to his call made answer, save only a maiden bright
Who looked forth from out her window, and was 'ware of
the gallant knight.
Spake the maiden so fair and courteous, 'An thou comest, Sir
Knight, as foe,55
Little need have we of thine hatred, for heavy enough our
woe,
A wrathful host doth threaten already by sea and land!'
Then he quoth, 'Nay, gentle lady, at thy portals a man doth
stand
Who will, if he can, do thee service! For thy service my
hand is fain,
And never reward save thy greeting as payment I think to
gain.' 60
Then the maiden she went in her wisdom to the queen and
an entrance prayed
For the knight, and in sooth his coming it brought to their
sorrow aid.

So Parzival came to the city; down the roadway on either
hand
The folk who would fain defend them in close groups he
saw them stand,
Soldiers on foot, and slingers, and they who the dart could
throw, 65
He saw as he came towards them, in many a goodly row.
And many a squire so valiant, the bravest from out the land,
Long, sharp, and strong were the lances they bare in each
strong right hand.
There too, so the story telleth, was many a merchant grave,
And the javelin and axe were their weapons, so their lady
commandment gave.70

And their skins, they were loose for hunger—Then the
Marshal of the queen
Made his way thro' their ranks to the castle, and heavy his
task I ween.
And well was that castle guarded, with towers o'er the
chambers high;
And barbican, keep, and oriel in such numbers they met his
eye
That buildings so strong and so many in his lifetime he
never saw, 75
And on horse or afoot from all sides the knights to his
welcome draw.
'Twas a sorry host, for as ashes some were grey, some were
pale as clay,
(My lord the Count of Wertheim sure had starved on such
scanty pay!)

Thro' want full sore they hungered, nor cheese, nor bread,
nor meat
Had they, and their teeth were idle since naught might they
find to eat.80
And their palate knew naught of the flavour of the wine-cup,
or red or white,

And their doublet hung loosely on them, and wasted each
limb of might,
And their skin like wrinkled leather on each rib hung gaunt
and grim,
For hunger their flesh had wasted and driven from every
limb.
Thro' want must they sorely suffer, little grease in their fuel
ran—85
(A hero to this had forced them, the proud King of
Brandigan,
Thus they paid for Klamidé's wooing)—The mead might
they seldom spill,
For small was their store, I think me, the vessel or cup to fill.
In Trühending oft shall ye hearken the hiss of the frying
cake,
In such music, methinks, but seldom the folk might their
pleasure take!90

(And if for such want I'ld mock them, then in truth must I
share their shame,
For there where I oft dismount me, where men do me
'Master' name,
At home in mine house, with trouble e'en the mice shall their
portion steal,
Nor oft for their food be joyful! Nor need they the bread
conceal,
Unhidden, I scarce may find it—Yea, oft doth it happen so,
95
And I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, ofttimes such pleasure and
ease may know.)

But enough of my lamentation, once more ye the tale shall
hear
How the city was full of sorrow, and for gladness they paid
full dear.
How these heroes, so rich in courage, must in need and in
scarceness live,

For so did the manhood bid them, to their need shall ye pity
give—100
For their life stood in pledge, might He free it in Whose
Hand all power shall be!—
Yet more of their grief would I tell ye that ye mourn for
them bitterly,
With shame their guest did they welcome, for they deemed
him so rich and great
That he craved not thro' need their shelter; he knew naught
of their poor estate.

On the grass did they spread a carpet, where a linden was
walled around,105
And trained to a welcome shadow—'Neath its boughs they
his arms unbound,
And the vassals they took his harness; but other than theirs
his face
When he in the streamlet washed it, and cleansed it from red
rust trace;
Nay, the sunlight's rays were shamèd 'neath the glow of his
beauty bright,
And a worthy guest they thought him as they gazed on the
gallant knight.110
Then a mantle rich they brought him e'en like to the robe he
bare,
And new was the smell of the sable wherewith it was
garnished fair.

Then they spake, 'Wilt thou look upon her, the queen, our
lady true?'
And the knight made answer straightway, that thing would
he gladly do.
To the palace they came, and the stairway steep and high to
the portal led,115
And the light of a fair face met him when his footsteps so far
were sped.

Of his eyes should she be the sweetness—There shone from
that lady bright
A radiant glow and dazzling, ere she welcomed the stranger
knight.
Now Kiot of Katelangen and Manfilot, Dukes the twain,
Led hither their brother's daughter who as queen o'er this
land did reign:120
(For the love of God their harness, shield, and sword, had
they put away
These princes true and stalwart, fair of face tho' their hair
was grey.)
Midway adown the staircase all courteous the maid they led,
And she kissed the gallant hero, and the lips of the twain
were red;
And she gave him her hand, and she led him, Sir Parzival, to
the hall,125
And they sat them adown together in the midst of the
courtiers all.

And feeble and faint the maidens, and the knights who stood
there around,
And vassal alike and hostess, small joy in their life they
found.
Yet Kondwiramur, her beauty did high o'er all others stand,
Were it Enid, or fair Jeschuté or Kunnewaaré of far Lalande,
130
Whoe'er men had deemed the fairest when they women's
beauty weighed,
Their fame to the earth was smitten by the glance of this
royal maid.
Yea, even the twain Isoldé, tho' men praise them evermore,
They must yield the crown of beauty to the lady
Kondwiramur.
(And her name in our tongue betokens her shapely form and
fair) 135
And well had they done, the mothers, who had borne such a
goodly pair

As these twain who sat here together, naught did they who
stood around
But gaze on the one and the other—Many friends had our
hero found.

And the thoughts of the knight will I tell ye, 'There Liassé,
Liassé here,—
God will free me from care since I see here Liassé that
maiden dear140
The child of a gallant father!'—Yet her fairness was naught I
wot,
'Gainst her beauty who sat beside him, in whom God no
wish forgot.
(The maiden was queen of the country) Yea, e'en as by
morning dew
Refreshed, the rose from its calyx forth buddeth in beauty
new,
And is white and red together—And grief to her guest it
wrought, 145
To whose courtesy naught was lacking since Gurnemanz'
side he sought,
And his words had from folly freed him; and had bidden him
questions spare
Save only where they were needful—So he sat by that lady
fair,
And never a word his lips spake, tho' he sat close the maid
beside—
Yet to those who know more of woman such silence doth oft
betide. 150

Then the queen to herself said softly, 'This man disdaineth
me,
He deemeth my fairness faded. Nay, perchance it yet may be
That in this thing he doeth wisely, his hostess in sooth am I,
And he is my guest, the first speech should be mine
assuredly!
Gently he looks upon me tho' never a word we speak, 155

And courteous hath been his bearing, 'twere well I the
silence break;
Too long have I yet delayed me since here side by side we
sit.'
To her guest did she turn, the maiden, and she spake as it
seemed her fit:

'Sir Knight, it were well as hostess that the first words came
from me,
Since I wot well my kiss as hostess a greeting hath won
from thee, 160
And thou offeredst me thy service, so my maiden hath borne
me word,
Our guests scarce are wont to do so, tho' the tidings I fain
had heard.
Now tell me, my guest, I prithee, since the tale I am fain to
know,
From whence art thou come to my kingdom, and whither
thou yet wouldst go?'
'Lady, at early morning I rode from my host away, 165
A brave knight is he and faithful, yet he sorroweth sore to-
day,
And Prince Gurnemanz do men call him, in Graharz he
holds command,
From thence I to-day have ridden, thence came I unto this
land!'

Then the noble maiden answered, 'Sir Knight, had another
told
This tale, methinks that scarcely for truth I the words might
hold,170
That thou in one day hadst ridden a journey that scarce in
twain
My swiftest squire could compass, tho' his charger he
spurred amain!
Thy host was my mother's brother; his daughter's youthful
glow,

It hath paled before the sorrow which she, e'en as I, must
know.
For many sad days and mournful, with sad eyes we've wept
our fill 175
I, and the maid Liassé—Wouldst thou show to thy host
goodwill?
Then thou shalt with us, man and woman, this night-tide our
sorrow share,
Thou shalt serve him thereby; and I'll tell thee the want we
perforce must bear.'

Then out spake her uncle Kiot, 'Lady, I send to thee
Twelve loaves of bread, and of shoulders and hams do I give
thee three,180
And eight cheeses too are with them, and two casks of wine
I trow,
And my brother, he too shall aid thee, of such aid hast thou
need enow!'
And Manfilot spake, 'Yea, Lady, I send thee the self-same
fare.'
And the maiden she sat in gladness, and of thanks she no
word would spare.
Then leave they craved from their lady, and forth would the
old men ride185
To their hunting-house that was nigh there—But the cell
where they would abide,
Was in Alpine wilds so lonely, there unarmed did they dwell
afar,
And never a foeman vexed them with tumult or strife of war.

And the messenger sped full swiftly, and the fainting folk
were fed,
No Burger within the city but was lacking for other bread,
190
And many were dead of hunger ere food for their need was
found.

Then the queen she bade them share it to the feeble folk
around,
With the cheese, the flesh, and the red wine, as Parzival
counsel gave,
Scarce a morsel was left, yet they shared it, the queen and
her guest so brave.

And swiftly the store had vanished, tho' to many who yet
might live,195
Nor were slain by cruel hunger this succour fresh life might
give.
Then they bade them a couch make ready for the guest, and
'twas soft his bed,
(Had the Burgers been hawks for the hunting methinks they
were not o'er-fed
As their scanty board bare witness) yea, the folk there, one
and all,
Bare the marks of bitter hunger, save the gallant Parzival.
200

Then leave he prayed of his hostess, he would lay him down
to rest.
Do ye think that for tapers straw-wisps must light so brave a
guest?
Nay, better were they I think me; he betook him, the hero
fair,
To a bed so rich and stately a king well might slumber there,
Nor of poverty bare it token, and a carpet before it lay. 205
Then he prayed the knights to go hence, nor longer there
delay,
And noble lads un-shod him, and straightway he fell asleep,
Till the cry of heart-sorrow woke him, and tears that bright
eyes should weep.

This chanced e'en as I will tell ye; no woman's law she
brake,

For pure was she aye, the maiden of whom this venture
spake. 210
Long stress of war constrained her, and the death of her
champion true,
So heavy her heart with sorrow that sleep from her eyelids
flew,
So she went, this royal lady, (but never such love to claim
As urgeth a gentle maiden to crave of a wife the name)
But she sought help and friendly counsel, tho' clad in a
warlike gear,215
A silken shift, (strife she wakeneth who doth thus to a man
draw near.)
And the maiden she wrapped around her a mantle of samite
long,
And she went as her steps were guided by sorrow and bitter
wrong.

Her maidens and waiting women who lay there around her
bed
She left them slumbering softly, and with noiseless footsteps
sped 220
To a chamber, there, e'en as she bade them, Parzival all
lonely lay,
And around his couch the tapers burnt bright as the light of
day.
To his bed she turned her footsteps, and she knelt low his
couch before,
But no thought of love unlawful the heart of either bore.
Of joy bereft was the maiden, his help she was fain to claim,
225
If awhile they lay there together it brought unto neither
shame.

So bitter the maiden's sorrow that there fell full many a tear
On Parzival, and her weeping thro' his slumbers the knight
might hear,
And waking, he looked upon her, and sorrow and joy he felt,

And he rose up, the youthful hero, as the maiden before him
knelt, 230
And he spake to the queen, 'Say, Lady, wilt thou now make a
mock of me?
To God only, and never to mortal methinks shouldst thou
bow the knee.
But rise thou and sit beside me, or grant me I pray this grace,
Lay thyself down where I was lying, I will seek me some
other place!'
But she spake, 'Thyself wilt thou honour, and show honour
alike to me,235
And by never a touch wilt shame me, I will e'en lay me
down by thee.'
Then the knight he spake by his knighthood he would e'en
do as he should say,
So down on the bed beside him in peace the maiden lay.

Tho' well sped were the hours of the night-time no cock did
they hear to crow,
Empty and bare the perches, for the famine had left them so.
240
Then the maiden, grieving sorely, prayed him courteous her
plaint to hear,
''Twill rob thee of sleep an I tell thee, and work to thee ill I
fear.
My foeman the King Klamidé, and Kingron his seneschal,
My castles and lands have wasted, yea, all but this citadel.
My father, King Tampentäre, by his death me, poor orphan,
left 245
In peril and need so deadly, of all hope am I well-nigh reft.
Kinsmen and princes many, and vassals, both rich and poor,
Yea, a mighty army served me, but they serve me now no
more.
One half, nay, far more I think me, in defence of my land are
slain,
Alas! whence shall I, poor maiden, or gladness or succour
gain? 250

In such sore strait do I find me, I am ready myself to kill
Ere my maidenhood and this body I yield to Klamidé's will.
His wife he is fain to make me, yet his was the hand that
slew
My Knight Schenteflur, the hero, whose heart was both
brave and true,
And the flower was he of all manhood, falsehood he ne'er
might know,255
Who was brother unto Liassé, and she too shall share my
woe.'

But e'en as she named Liassé then sorrow awoke anew
In his heart who would fain do service, and his spirit, so
high and true,
Sank, as sinketh a hill to the valley, at the thought of that
maiden dear;
Yet he spake to the queen, 'Say, Lady, how best may I serve
thee here?'260
'Sir Knight an thou couldst but rid me of Kingron the
seneschal;
In knightly joust of my warriors full many before him fell.
With the morning again he cometh, and he thinketh that free
from harm
His lord soon shall lie, my husband, in the clasp of my
circling arm.
My Burg hast thou seen, and thou knowest how lofty its
towers and high,265
Yet down to the moat below them will I fling myself
joyfully,
Ere of maidenhood King Klamidé shall rob me against my
will,
If no better may be, then by dying, his boasting I yet may
still!'

Then he quoth, 'Lady, French or Breton, of what country
soe'er he be,

From Kingron my hand shall shield thee, with what power
may be given to me.'270
The night was spent, with the dawning the queen she arose
again,
Lowly she bent before him, nor from thanks would her lips
restrain.
Then she passed from the chamber softly, and no man might
be aware,
Tho' wise were he else, of her errand, save only the knight
so fair.

Nor Parzival longer slumbered, for the sun was swift to rise,
275
And it pierced thro' the clouds of morning, and smote on his
wakened eyes;
And he heard the sweet bells chiming, as the folk church and
minster sought,
For Klamidé their joy had banished, and their land in sore
peril brought.

Then up rose the young knight also; the chaplain was in his
place
And he sang to God and his lady; and the guest saw the
maiden's face,280
And he gazed till the Mass was ended, and the benediction
o'er.
Then he bade them to bring his harness, and soon was he
armed once more,
A good knight and strong they deemed him, in gallant
armour fair.
Then on came Klamidé's army with banners borne high in
air.
And Kingron, he came full swiftly, he sped far before the
force, 285
And, so hath the story told me, of Iserterre's land his horse.
And there waited before the portal the son of King Gamuret,

And the prayers and the hopes of the townsfolk on the
youthful knight were set.

Nor with sword he ere this had striven—From afar did he
aim his stroke,
And so swift his joust, in the meeting the gear of both
chargers broke,290
And their girths were burst asunder, and each steed to its
knees was brought,
And the heroes who yet bestrode them of their swords must
they needs take thought;
In their scabbards did they find them—And already did
Kingron bear
Wounds in arm and breast, and I wot me that loss was his
portion there.
For this joust brought him loss of the glory that methinks
had been his alway295
Till he met with this knight, and their meeting, of his pride
was the dying day.
And valiant did men account him, six knights had he
prostrate laid
Who rode in one field against him, yet here was he well
repaid
By Parzival's right hand valiant, and Kingron the seneschal
Thought strange was indeed his peril, for stones surely on
him fell300
Cast forth from a mighty engine—Other arms wrought his
overthrow,
For a sword clave clean thro' his helmet, and Parzival laid
him low,
And he knelt with one knee upon him, and he bade him
forthwith to give
What he ne'er to a foe had given, his pledge, an he fain
would live.
But he thought not to be his captor who had vanquished him
here in field,305

But he bade him ride hence to Graharz and his pledge to its
lord to yield.

'Nay, Sir Knight, thou hadst better slay me, 'twas I who slew
his son,
'Twas my hand of life that robbed him, Schenteflur—Thou
from God hast won
Great honour, yea, men shall praise thee for the strength that
thou here hast shown,
Of a sooth art thou here the victor, and Good Fortune shall
be thine own.'310
Quoth Parzival, 'Yet another is the choice I will give to thee,
Yield thou to the queen whom thy master in his wrath
wronged so grievously!'
'Nay! Then were I lost of a surety, for I wot with their
sword-blades keen
My body they'ld hew in pieces, small as dust in the sun is
seen!
Such sorrow of heart, I think me, and grief thro' my hand
they win,315
Full many a gallant hero who dwelleth those walls within.'

'Then hence from this plain shalt thou journey to the
kingdom of Brittany,
And bear to a gentle maiden thy pledge and thy fealty.
For she for my sake hath suffered a sorrow she ne'er had
borne,
Had not Kay been of knightly customs, and of courtesy fair
forsworn.320
Say to her how with me it fareth, that I come not in joy again
Till my spear, thro' his shield sharp-piercing, hath wiped out
her honour's stain.
To King Arthur and to his lady, and the knights of the Table
Round
Bear my greeting, and say in their presence shall I never
again be found

Till the day I from shame have freed me; from the shame
which I too must share325
With the maiden who smiled upon me, and great grief for
that greeting bare.
Say to her I am aye her servant, to serve her with service
fain!'
So Kingron must swear unto him ere they parted, those
heroes twain.

Thus he came afoot to the city, for thither had fled his steed,
The Burgers' help in battle, from their anguish the folk he
freed. 330
But the outer host was troubled that Kingron, their chosen
knight,
In this wise had been dishonoured, and broken his dauntless
might.
Then they led Parzival in triumph to their queen so fair and
young,
And the maiden was fain to greet him, and her white arms
around him clung,
And in close embrace she held him as she spake, 'The wide
earth doth hold335
No man I will have for my husband save him whom these
arms enfold!'
And as here they disarmed the hero her part would the
maiden bear
With ready hand and skilful, nor her service she thought to
spare.

But tho' heavy had been his labour, yet scanty, I ween, the
board.
And the Burgers they came before him, and they sware him
with one accord340
They would have him for lord and master; and the queen in
her turn she spake,
And she said that this knight so valiant for her love and her
lord she'ld take

Who had won him a fame so mighty o'er Kingron the
seneschal—
But now from the castle bulwarks two sails might be seen by
all,
A strong wind to the haven brought them, and their lading
must needs make glad345
The folk, they bare naught but victuals,—God's guidance
they surely had!

Then they rushed adown from the ramparts, and swift to the
ships they fled,
The hungry crowd, for the booty, as leaves by the wind are
sped.
With flesh they were not o'erweighted, so wasted and thin
were they,
Nor they strutted with well-filled belly, but bending they
went their way.350
The queen's marshal he sware the shipmen, by the doom of
the hempen cord,
Safe conduct for life and lading, none should touch that
which lay aboard.
Then he bade them to lead these merchants straightway into
the town,
And Parzival for their lading the double he paid them down,
And gladly the merchants took it, for princely they deemed
such pay;355
And the Burgers these welcome viands to their fires did they
bear straightway.

Now fain would I there take service, no man of them all
drank beer,
Wine and food had they there in plenty—Then he did as you
now shall hear,
Parzival, the gallant hero, for first in portions small,
With his own right hand he shared out the viands among
them all, 360
Yea, even unto the nobles; so long had they lacked for bread,

He feared it had wrought them evil if perchance they were
over-fed.
But to each one he gave his portion, and his counsel they
deemed it right,
And more should they win ere nightfall from the hand of this
gallant knight.

To their marriage couch they bade them, 'twas the will both
of king and queen—365
Yet throughout the night so courteous he bare him, in truth I
ween,
He little had pleased those ladies who now, in these latter
days,
In passion's heat forget all that should win for a woman
praise;
Tho' modest they seem to strangers, yet their heart gives
their mien the lie,
And their tenderness worketh sorrow to their friend, tho' in
secrecy.370
But the steadfast knight and faithful guards himself at every
hour,
And well knoweth to spare a woman an she chanceth within
his power.
For he thinketh, and thinketh truly, 'For many a lonely year
For her favours I served this lady; now, behold, the day is
here
When her will is to reward me, and here we twain do lie—
375
Had I touched with bare hand her vesture I were blest to
eternity!
An I vantage take of her slumbers to myself untrue I seem,
Methinks we were both dishonoured did I waken her from
her dream,
For a woman's sleep is holy, and all men shall own its sway.'
Thus the Waleis, who ne'er had feared him, lay still till the
dawn of day.380

Thus he whom men called the Red Knight, a maiden he left
the queen,
Yet surely she deemed in the morning his wife she o'er night
had been,
And for love of her lord her tresses she bound with the
morning light
As matrons are wont to bind them. And he won him, the
gallant knight,
Castles and lands around them from the hand of his maiden
bride, 385
But her heart was ere this his guerdon, and in peace did the
twain abide.

Thus glad in their love they held them two days till the third
night fell,
And often he thought might he take her to himself it would
please him well.
Then he thought of his mother's counsel, and how
Gurnemanz spake of yore,
That man and wife should as one be, and the doubt vexed his
soul no more,390
And his wife did he take unto him—Love's custom ever old,
Yet ever new to lovers, to these twain brought joy untold.

'Twas well, not evil, with them—Now hear how the king,
their foe,
As he rode in his might to battle, must tidings of evil know.
'Twas a squire who fain had told them, all crimson his spurs
with blood;395
'Before Pelrapär on the meadow have they foughten those
heroes good,
'Twas a bitter strife and knightly; thy seneschal fell that day,
Kingron, who led thine army, to King Arthur must take his
way.
As he in departing bade them lies the army upon the plain.
Pelrapär shalt thou find well guarded 'gainst thyself and
thine armies twain,400

There within is a gallant hero, and naught doth he crave but
strife;
In the camp of thy hired soldiers is many a rumour rife,
They say from the good Round Table cometh Ither of
Cumberland
To the help of the queen, and knightly and valiant methinks
his hand!
'Twas his arms that rode forth for jousting, and no man his
deeds shall blame,405
In such wise hath he borne his armour as winneth him meed
of fame.'

Quoth the king to the squire, 'My lady, the queen, she
desireth me,
And she and her land so goodly I trow shall my portion be.
And Kingron the seneschal told me, and surely the truth he
spake,
That famine doth plague the city, and peace they ere long
must make,410
And the queen she her love shall proffer'—His wrath must
the squire abide.
Then the king and his host passed onward, and a knight did
toward them ride,
And he spared not his horse but spurred it, and told them the
self-same tale,
And the king deemed the loss o'er-heavy, and courage and
joy must fail.

Then a prince spake from out the army, 'Tho' Kingron hath
valour shown,415
Yet never he fought for our manhood, he fought for himself
alone.
Now let him to death be stricken—Why then should they be
cast down,
Two hosts, this one, and the army that lieth before the town?'
Then he bade his lord take courage, 'Once more will we try
our fate,

Let them look to their arms, the conflict shall be for their
strength too great,420
We will make an end of their gladness! Bid thy vassals and
kinsmen hear,
With banners twain before them to the town shall they draw
anear;
Down the hill will we ride upon them, but afoot must we
storm the gate,
For so shall we work them evil, and victory shall on us wait.'
Galogandres, the Duke of Gippones, it was who this counsel
gave, 425
And sorrow he brought on the Burgers—but slain was this
hero brave,
And slain, too, the brave Count Narant, a prince from
Uckerland's shore,
And many another hero whom dead from the field they bore.

Now hear ye another story, how the Burgers would guard
their wall.
Strong stakes of wood sharp-pointed they made fast in tree-
trunks tall;430
(Sore pain thus was wrought the besiegers) and the trunks
were made fast that day
To a rope that by wheel was guided, so they guarded their
walls alway.
And all this had they done and tested ere Klamidé would
storm the gate
To avenge the fall of Kingron—There had come to their land
of late
Greek fire, for the ships had brought it that of food brought a
goodly store,435
And it burnt of the foe the weapons, and the engines of
deadly war;
And battering-ram or tortoise in vain 'gainst the walls were
wheeled,
No weapon had they for onslaught but was forced to the
flame to yield!

Now Kingron the seneschal journeyed till he came on to
Breton ground,
In his hunting-house in Briziljan King Arthur at last he
found, 440
And Karminöl did they call it—As 'fore Pelrapär he fought,
So at Parzival's word his surety to the maid of Lalande he
brought,
And glad was fair Kunnewaaré that, faithful, he mourned her
shame
Whom men there knew as the Red Knight, and this knight at
his bidding came.

And soon were the wondrous tidings amid the courtiers
spread, 445
And he stood there before King Arthur, a gallant knight ill-
sped.
Then he spake unto him and his vassals in such wise as he
needs must speak,
And Kay was with terror smitten, and crimson it grew, his
cheek,
And he spake, 'Is it thou, O Kingron? Ah! many a Breton
knight,
Thou seneschal of Klamidé, thy hand hath o'erthrown in
fight! 450
If thy captor ne'er look upon me with favour, thine office
high
Shall turn to thy good; we are rulers of the caldron, both
thou and I,
Of thy wisdom and skill do thou aid me, to win me the
favour fair
Of this maiden Kunnewaaré, and sweet cates for her board
prepare!'

Nor they asked from him other ransom—Now leave we that
tale and hear455
What had passed since we left the story—So the host to the
town drew near,

To Pelrapär came the King Klamidé, and a bitter strife arose.
The inner host strove with the outer, and in sooth were they
gallant foes,
Fresh strength had they won and courage, and bravely they
held the field;
And Parzival, lord of the country, in the vanguard he bare
his shield.460
And he swung aloft his weapon, thro' the helm clave the
blade so keen,
And the knights he o'erthrew before him found a bitter death
I ween,
For there, where the corslet opened, the Burgers they pierced
them thro',
In such wise would they take their vengeance—this wrought
grief to the hero true,
And Parzival, he forbade them, and they ceased at their
lord's command,465
But of living knights full twenty were captive unto their
hand.

Yet Parzival well had marked it how the king and his bravest
knights
Sought not fame before the portals, but far out in the plain
would fight;
Then forth by a path untrodden the hero a circuit made,
And swiftly he charged where the monarch his banner aloft
displayed.470
And, see! there a mighty slaughter the guard of the king
befell,
And the shields they were hewn in pieces, the Burgers they
fought so well.
And Parzival's shield had vanished 'fore the blows and the
sword-blades keen;
And tho' little his skill rejoiced them, yet all who the strife
had seen,
They spoke but to praise his valour—Galogandres the
standard bare,475

(Well he knew how to wake their courage!) but dead lay the
hero there.
And Klamidé himself stood in peril, and great stress on his
army lay;
Then he bade them withdraw, for the valour of the Burgers
had won the day.

But Parzival, gallant hero, bade them treat their captives
well
Till the dawn of the third day's morning, and fear on his
foemen fell.480
Then the young host, proud and joyful, bade the knights on
their oath go free—
'Good friends, when the word I send ye, then wend your way
back to me!'
Their swords and their goodly harness as prisoners they
needs must yield;
Unarmed did they fare from the city to the host on the outer
field.

'For sooth,' spake their comrades mocking, 'from wine must
ye needs be red,485
Poor souls, since within the city ye have hungered for lack
of bread!'
'Nay! nay! ye may spare your pity,' so spake they, the heroes
good,
'If ye lie here a whole year longer, within is such store of
food,
That by them might ye well be nourished! And the queen
hath the fairest knight
For her husband, that e'er won knighthood, or carried a
shield in fight,490
He may well be of lofty lineage, for he lacketh no knightly
skill!'
And the king needs must hear the tidings, and in sooth did
they please him ill,

And heralds he sent to the city, and he bade them this
challenge bear
To him whom the queen had wedded, 'If this knight the strife
shall dare,
And the queen doth hold him worthy herself, and her lands
so wide, 495
To defend in single combat, then in peace may our hosts
abide!'

And Parzival he was joyful at the message the heralds bare,
And his heart was fain for the combat; and out spake the
hero fair,
'Now I pledge me upon mine honour that no man within this
wall
Shall lift his hand for my peril, alone will I stand or fall!'500
So betwixt the moat and the meadow a truce did they swear
that day,
And those smiths of battle armed them as meet for the
coming fray.

On a gallant war-horse armèd sat the King of Brandigan,
'Twas hight Guverjorz—This charger with many a gallant
man,
And many a goodly present, from Gringorz his nephew, king
505
Of Ipotente did Count Narant from the north o'er the deep
seas bring.
And therewith were a thousand footmen, well armed save no
shield had they;
(If the tale speaketh true to the third year the king had made
good their pay.)
And Gringorz sent him knights five hundred, each one with
his helm on head,
And skilled were they all in battle; with Klamidé they hither
sped.510
And thus had the mighty army, alike both by sea and land,

Encircled the town of Pelrapär, and great need must its folk
withstand!

Forth rode Parzival from the city to the field that should aye
declare
If 'twas God's will his wife to leave him, the child of King
Tampentäre.
Proudly he rode, yet he spurred not his steed to its swiftest
flight,515
And 'twas armed for need, and its covering was a samite of
red so bright,
And the iron lay beneath it—And the hero himself shone fair
In his harness red, red his corslet, and the shield that he
proudly bare.
And Klamidé began the conflict—A short spear of wood
unwrought,
With that would he fell his foeman, and the joust from afar
he sought;520
And Guverjorz sprang forth swiftly, and the joust it was
ridden well
By those heroes young and beardless, nor one from his
saddle fell,
And never a horse or a rider had foughten a better fight;
And the steam rose in clouds from the chargers on which sat
each gallant knight,

And so fierce was the fight that the horses, out-wearied with
conflict sore,525
Stumbled and fell together, in sooth could they do no more.
And joyful they smote, the heroes, till fire from the helm
must spring,
Small time had they there for leisure, but zeal to their task
must bring;
And the shields were hewn in pieces, and the splinters were
tossed on high,
As shuttlecocks gaily smitten to the winds of heaven fly. 530

Yet Gamuret's son was unwearied, and never a limb did
ache,
Tho' Klamidé deemed that the foemen from the city the
truce would break.
Then he bade his fellow-foeman to look to his honour well,
And stay the hand of the slingers, for the blows heavy on
him fell
As of stones shot forth from an engine—But Parzival made
reply, 535
'Nay, safe art thou from the slingers, my word is thy surety,
Thou hast peace from mine hand, and I swear thee that never
a sling shall break
Head, or breast, or thigh, thou art safe here, were it but for
mine honour's sake!'

All too soon was Klamidé wearied and spent with the deadly
fight,
Who was victor, and who was vanquished, ere long might be
seen aright,540
And they looked on the King Klamidé, on the grass was he
laid alow,
And Parzival's right hand gripped him till forth streamed the
crimson flow
Of blood from the ears and nostrils, and the green turf was
dyed with red;
And his foeman unbound the helmet and visor, and bared his
head,
The vanquished would face the death-blow, and the victor
spake, 'Here I free545
My wife for aye from thy wooing! Learn thou what Death
may be!'

'Nay! nay! thou gallant hero, thirty-fold doth thy glory grow
Thro' the valour thine hand hath shown here, since in strife
thou hast laid me low.
What higher fame dost thou look for? Kondwiramur sure
shall say

That Good Fortune hath smiled upon thee, whilst I am
Misfortune's prey;550
Thy land hast thou now delivered—As when one a leaking
boat
Doth free from the load of water, that it light o'er the waves
may float,
So lightened am I of honour! Manly honour and joy I trow
Are waxen thin and faded, what profit to slay me now?
From children and children's children mine heritage shall be
shame,555
To do more here methinks were needless—For joy thou hast
won and fame,
And a living death is my portion, since for ever from her I
part,
Who fast in love's magic fetters hath held me both mind and
heart,
Little good it forsooth hath brought me, ah! most wretched
henceforth am I,
And this land and its lovely lady for aye in thy power shall
lie!' 560

Now he who was here the victor on Gurnemanz' counsel
thought,
How mercy should well beseem him who with manhood had
valiant fought,
And he thought him the rede to follow; and thus to the king
he spake,
'I free thee not, to the father of Liassé submission make!'
'Nay, Sir Knight, I have wrought him evil, 'twas thro' me that
his son was slain,565
An ill-fate wouldst thou bring upon me! The hand of thy
queen to gain,
With Schenteflur I battled, and in sooth had I died that day,
Save that Kingron came to my succour, and his hand did the
hero slay.
For Gurnemanz of Graharz had sent him to Brobarz' land

At the head of a gallant army; 'twas a fair and knightly band,
570
Nine hundred knights who fought well, and rode upon mail-
clad steeds,
And fifteen hundred footmen all armed for valiant deeds,
For naught but shields should fail them—Too great their
might I thought,
But the seed of such goodly harvest once more their country
sought.
Yet now hath my loss been greater! Of my heroes but few
are left, 575
What more would thine hand take from me, who of gladness
am now bereft?'

'An easier way I'll show thee, to Brittany shalt thou ride,
Kingron has gone before thee, there King Arthur he doth
abide,
To him shalt thou bear my greeting, and bid him to mourn
alway
The shame I bare as my portion when I rode from his court
away. 580
A maiden who smiled upon me for my sake was smitten sore
—
Of all that in life e'er grieved me naught ever hath grieved
me more!
And that maid shalt thou tell of my sorrow; and thy pledge
to her hand shalt yield,
And do even as she shall bid thee—Or die here on this
foughten field!'

'So, if here I must choose betwixt them, not long shall my
choice delay,'585
Spake the King of Brandigan swiftly, 'From hence will I ride
straightway!'
But his oath did he swear ere he parted whom pride had in
peril brought.
Then Parzival, the hero, for his wearied charger sought,

And his foot touched nor horse nor stirrup as he light to the
saddle sprung,
And his steed the hewn shields' splinters around him in
circles flung.590

And the Burgers I ween were joyful—but their foemen were
sad and sore,
For flesh and bone were wearied, and sorrow of heart they
bore.
And they brought King Klamidé wounded to those who
might give him aid,
And the dead on the bier they bare them, and to rest in the
grave they laid.
From many a guest unwelcome the land at last was freed,
595
And the gallant King Klamidé to Löver he rode with speed.

Now it fell at this time King Arthur and the knights of the
Table Round,
And many another hero, at Dianasdron were found.
And in sooth no lie I tell ye when I say that this plain so
good
Bare of tent-poles a greater number than the trees in
Spessart's wood.600
For 'twas ever the wont of King Arthur the high feast of
Pentecost
To keep with his knights and vassals, and of maidens a
goodly host.
There were many a noble banner, and many a warlike shield
With coat of arms emblazoned, and fair tents stood adown
the field;
'Twould be thought of the world a marvel, who should make
all the travelling gear605
For such wondrous host of ladies as those that were gathered
here!
And I think me that never a maiden but had counted it to her
shame

If no knight mid the knights around her she might as her
lover claim!
Came I myself to such gathering, an such youthful knights
were there,
I were loth if my wife beside me thro' such tumult were fain
to fare—610
(Nay, when folk thus come together far liefer were I away)
May be one might speak unto her, and some such words
would say—
'With love of her was he smitten, and ne'er might he healing
know
Save that she herself should heal him. Yea, an but her will
were so,
Her knight would he be for ever, to serve her his whole life
long' 615
I were swift, with my wife beside me, to flee from such
foolish throng!

Yet enough of myself have I spoken—Now hear how King
Arthur's tent
Might be known apart from the others; before it on gladness
bent
He feasted, the king, with his vassals whose hearts never
falsehood knew,
And with many a stately maiden, whose thoughts aye to
jousting flew,620
As if with darts they sported, and their friend 'gainst the foe
would aim,
And if ill befell their hero with sweet words to his aid they
came.

Then the youthful King Klamidé in the ring would he bridle
draw;
His steel-clad limbs and charger the wife of King Arthur
saw,
His helmet and good shield cloven her maidens they saw
right well—625

So he came to the court, (who had sent him small need have
I here to tell.)
So sprang he adown from his charger, and they thronged him
on either hand
Ere he came where she sat whom he sought for, Kunnewaaré
of fair Lalande.

And he spake, 'Art thou she, O Lady, to whom I owe service
fair?
(Yet need doth in part constrain me) from the Red Knight I
greeting bear,630
He willeth to take upon him the shame that thy lot hath
been;
He prays that King Arthur mourn it—Thou wast smitten for
him I ween,
Here, Lady, my pledge I bring thee, so my victor hath bidden
me,
Else my body to death were forfeit—I will do here as
pleaseth thee!'

Then the maiden Kunnewaaré by his hand led the gallant
knight 635
Where Queen Guinevere was seated, she ate with her
maidens bright;
And Kay uprose from the table as the tidings he needs must
hear,
They brought gladness to Kunnewaaré, but to Kay had they
wrought but fear.

And he quoth, 'What he speaketh, Lady, who thus unto thee
hath sped
He speaketh perforce, yet I think me he greatly hath been
misled! 640
I thought but to teach thee better, yet for this cause thou
hatest me!
Now bid thou this knight disarm him, for his standing o'er-
long shall be.'

Then she bade him put off his helmet and visor, the maiden
true,
And e'en as the bands were loosened Klamidé the king they
knew,
And Kingron he looked upon him, and he saw his lord again,
645
And he wrung his hands in his anguish till as dry twigs they
cracked amain.

Then the seneschal of Klamidé, from the table he sprung
straightway,
And he asked of his lord the tidings; and joyless was he that
day,
For he spake, 'I am born to sorrow; I have lost such a gallant
host,
No man that was born of woman, I think me shall more have
lost. 650
And the load of such bitter sorrow lieth heavy upon my
breast,
And joy is to me a stranger, and gladness a fleeting guest!
And grey am I grown for the anguish she hath wrought me,
Kondwiramur,—
Yea, the sorrow of Pontius Pilate, and false Judas who
evermore
Must grieve for his faithless dealings, who did Christ unto
death betray,655
What of punishment God layeth on them that woe would I
bear alway—
If so be that the Lady of Brobarz were my wife of goodwill
and free,
And mine arms held her fast, I had recked not what hereafter
should chance to me.
But, alas! for her love is withholden from the ruler of
Iserterre,
And my land and my folk henceforward for her sake shall
sorrow bear.660

Mine uncle's son, Mabonagrein, for her love long hath
suffered pain;
And by knightly hand constrainèd in thy court I, O king,
draw rein!
And well dost thou know in my kingdom much harm have I
done to thee,
Forget that, true knight and faithful, from thy hate do thou
set me free
Since here I abide, a captive—And this maiden my life shall
shield,665
Since I stand in her sight, her servant, and my pledge to her
hand would yield!'
Then of knightly heart King Arthur forgave him as he would
pray,
And with faithful words, and kindly, showed favour to him
that day.

Far and wide did they tell the tidings how the King of
Brandigan
Rode hither, and man and maiden in thronging crowds they
ran. 670
Then the king he would crave a comrade, and he spake out
with joyless mien,
'Commend me unto Sir Gawain, if thou deemest me worth,
O Queen!
Well I know that he would desire it, and if he thy word obey,
Then he honoureth thee, and the Red Knight shall win praise
at his hand to-day.'
Then King Arthur he bade his nephew deal well with the
captive king,675
(Tho' I wot well, without his bidding, Sir Gawain had done
this thing.)
And the conquered knight, in whose dealings no falsehood
had part or share,
From the vassals and gallant heroes won a welcome both fit
and fair.

Then Kingron he spake in sorrow, 'Alas! that I needs must
see
The day when in Breton dwellings my king shall a captive
be! 680
For richer wert thou than Arthur, and of vassals a greater
host
Hath served thee, nor strength was lacking, and of youth
canst thou make thy boast.
Shall men count it to Arthur's honour that Kay in his wrath
did smite
A princess whose heart hath shown her the wisdom to
choose aright,
And smile upon one whom henceforward all men may with
truth proclaim685
Elect to the highest honour and crown of true knightly fame?
The tree of their fame these Bretons may deem to have
waxen high;
Dead lay Cumberland's king, but I wot well be by no deed of
theirs must die!
Nor the fame shall be theirs that, my master, thou didst yield
to that self-same knight,
Or that I myself have been vanquished in fair and open fight;
690
And the sparks sprang bright from our helmets, and our
swords clave the whistling air
As for life and death we battled, and men looked on our
combat fair.'

Then all at the good Round Table, both rich and poor alike,
With one voice spake that Kay did evil when a maiden he
thought to strike.
But now will we leave their story, and fare back unto
Pelrapär 695
Where Parzival reigned as monarch; the waste lands were
builded fair,
And joy was their lot and singing, (and red gold and jewels
bright

King Tampentäre left in the city where awhile he had
reigned in might)
Then rich gifts he gave till men loved him for his knightly
hand and free;
New shields and costly banners the pride of his land should
be, 700
And many a joust and Tourney did he and his heroes ride.
And e'en on the distant borders in gallant deeds he vied,
That hero young and dauntless, and no foeman might e'er
deny
That on battle-field or in Tourney his hand won the victory.

And now of the queen would I tell ye—What lot might ye
hold so fair705
As hers, that gentle lady? In earth's joys had she fullest
share.
Her love it might bud and blossom, nor weakness nor
wavering show,
For the worth of her lord and husband her heart scarce might
fail to know.
And each found their life in the other, and each was the
other's love.
If, as saith the tale, they were parted, what grief must each
true heart move!710
And I mourn for that gentle lady, her body, her folk, her
land,
(So he won of her love the guerdon) had he freed with his
strong right hand.

Thus courteous he spake one morning (and the knights stood
their lord beside),
'Lady, an it so please thee, give me leave that I hence may
ride
And see how my mother fareth, if weal be her lot, or woe,
715
For naught of all that befalls her methinks I for long may
know.

For a short space would I go thither; and if ventures my skill
approve
Therewith would I do thee service, and be worthy my lady's
love.'
Thus he spake, and the story telleth she thought not to say
him 'Nay,'
For she deemed it well; from his vassals all lonely he took
his way.720

BOOK V
ANFORTAS
ARGUMENT

Book V. tells of the wonderful adventure of the Grail Castle; how Parzival
met with the Fisher King, and became his guest; and of the great feast in the
hall of Monsalväsch. How Parzival saw the bleeding spear, and all the
marvels of the Grail, and how be asked no question. How he in the morning
found the palace deserted, and was mocked by the squire as he rode away.
Of Parzival meeting with Siguné, and how she reproached him for his
silence. Of Orilus and Jeschuté; of the fight between the heroes; and of
Parzival's oath. How Orilus and his wife were made friends again, and of
their welcome at the court of King Arthur.

BOOK V
ANFORTAS

Now he who would hear what befell him who thus for
ventures sought,
Shall hearken many a marvel ere the tale to an end be
wrought
Let the son of Gamuret ride forth, and all ye good folk and
true
Wish him well, for bitter sorrow this hero hereafter knew,
Tho' honour and joy should crown him—And sorely his
heart did grieve5
That the wife he loved so dearly he now for a space must
leave.
For the mouth never read of woman, and never hath tale
been told
Of a fairer wife and truer, and his heart did she captive hold,
And his spirit so high was troubled by thoughts of his wife
and queen—
Had courage not been his birthright he had lost it ere this, I
ween!10

O'er rock and marshy moorland, with loosened reins the
steed
Dashed free, the rider thought not to guide or check its
speed.
Of a truth the venture telleth, so far did he ride that day
E'en a bird had been outwearied, and its flight were fain to
stay.
An the tale hath not betrayed me, no further the knight did
fare 15
When Ither he slew, or from Graharz rode swift unto
Pelrapär.

Now hear ye what chanced unto him; he came at the close of
day
To a water fair, and upon it many boats at anchor lay,
And the fishers were lords of the water; to the shore did they
lie so near