Book II. p. 44, are specially interesting as being almost the oldest

PARZIVAL

VOL. II

PARZIVAL

A KNIGHTLY EPIC

BY

WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH

TRANSLATED BY

JESSIE L. WESTON

VOL. II

ANASTATIC REPRINT OF THE EDITION LONDON 1894.

NEW YORK

G. E. STECHERT & CO.,

1912.

CONTENTS

PAGE

X. ORGELUSE 1

XI. ARNIVE 29

XII. EIDEGAST 47

XIII. KLINGSOR 71

XIV. GRAMOFLANZ 101

XV. FEIREFIS 133

XVI. LOHENGRIN 163

APPENDICES 189

NOTES 201

BOOK X

ORGELUSE

ARGUMENT

Book X. relates how Gawain, after various adventures, fell in with a

maiden and a wounded knight, how he succoured the knight and rode to

Logrois. How he met with Orgelusé and wooed her, and how she repaid

him with scorn. How the squire Malcréature mocked Sir Gawain, and how

the knight Urian stole his charger. How Lischois Giwellius fought with

Gawain and was conquered, and of the tribute due to the Master Boatman.

How Gawain came to Terre de Merveil, and was well entreated by the

Boatman and his daughter Bené.

BOOK X

ORGELUSE

Now tell we of strange adventures thro' which joy shall be

waxen low,

And yet pride shall grow the greater, of the twain doth this

story show.

Now the year of truce was ended, when the strife must needs

be fought

Which the Landgrave unto King Arthur at Plimizöl had brought.

At Schamfanzon he challenged Gawain to meet him at Barbigöl, 5

Yet still unavenged was Kingrisein at the hand of

Kingrimursel--

In sooth, Vergulacht, he rode there, and thither had come

Gawain,

And the whole world was 'ware of their kinship nor might

strife be betwixt the twain;

For the murder, Count Eckunât did it, and Gawain must they

guiltless hold,

At rest did they lay their quarrel and friends were those

heroes bold. 10

Then they parted for both would ride thence, Vergulacht and

the knight Gawain,

Tho' both for the Grail were seeking yet apart would they

ride, those twain.

And many a joust must they ride now, for he who the Grail

would see

Sword in hand must he draw anigh it, and swift must his

seeking be!

Now all that befell to Gawain, the lot of that blameless

knight 15

Since he rode forth from fair Schamfanzon, if he oft on his

way must fight,

Ye shall ask of those who there saw him, since naught may I

tell ye here,

Yet hearken, and heed the story and the venture that draweth

near.

One morning Gawain rode gaily o'er a grassy plain and green,

When a shield, in the sun fair shining, with lance-thrust

pierced thro' was seen, 20

And a charger stood beside it that bare women's riding-gear,

And the bridle and aye the housing were of costly stuff and

dear--

And the charger and shield beside it were bound to a linden

tree.

Then he thought, 'Who shall be this woman? for valiant I ween

is she,

Since she beareth a shield so knightly--If she thinketh with

me to fight, 25

How, then, may I best withstand her? Were it better to here

alight?

If too long she wrestle with me perchance I were overthrown,

If hatred or love I shall win here I will fight her on foot

alone;

Yea, e'en an she were Kamilla, who before Laurentium fought--

Did she live still to battle with me, as awhile she for

honour sought, 30

I would face her, nor fear her prowess, if here she my foe

would be,

Tho' ne'er with a maid have I foughten and the chance seemeth

ill to me!'

Battle-hewn was the shield and dinted, as Gawain right well

espied

The nearer he rode unto it, and pierced with a lance-thrust

wide.

Such token by joust is painted, little payment his skill

should know 35

Whose hand erst the shield had fashioned an he thought him to

paint it so!

By the trunk of the mighty linden sat a maid on the grass so

green,

And sore did she weep and bewail her, and joyless, I wot, her

mien.

Then around the tree rode Gawain, and lo! on her knee she

bore

A knight, and she wept above him, and grieved with a sorrow

sore. 40

Fair greeting Sir Gawain proffered, she thanked him and bowed

her low,

And hoarse was her voice thro' weeping and weakened thro'

force of woe.

Then down to the ground sprang Gawain, for the knight he was

like to choke,

Since the blood welled within his body, and unto the maid he

spoke,

And he asked if the knight were living, or should now in the

death-throe be? 45

And she spake, 'He dieth surely, yet but now alive was he,

God hath sent thee unto my succour, now help me with word and

deed,

Such wounds shalt thou oft have looked on, give counsel in

this my need!'

'Yea, gladly I'll aid thee, Lady, from death shall thy knight

be freed,

And healing I well might win him an there were but at hand a

reed. 50

Thou shalt see him, and hearken to him, nor his life shall be

waxen less,

The wound is not all too dangerous, but the blood on his

heart doth press.'

Then he stripped from a bough of the linden the bark, and did

wind it round,

(No fool he in art of healing,) and he set it unto the wound,

And he bade the maiden suck it till the blood should toward

her flow-- 55

And strength came again and hearing, and the voice of the

knight they know,

And he looked on Gawain, and he thanked him, and said he

should honoured be

In that from his woe he had freed him, and he asked of him,

whence came he?

Rode he hither in search of knighthood? 'From far Punturtois

I came

In search of such knightly venture as should win for me meed

of fame, 60

Yet sorely must I bewail me for the ill that I here have won,

Sir Knight, an thy senses fail not, 'twere better this way to

shun!'

'Such evil I little looked for--'Twas Lischois Giwellius

Who hath wounded me so sorely, and down from my charger

thrust:

Fair was the joust and knightly, and he pierced me thro'

shield and side, 65

On her steed this maiden helped me, and hither hath been my

guide!'

Then he prayed Gawain to abide there, but he spake, he the

place would see

Where such evil had chanced unto him, 'If Logrois thus near

shall be,

Perchance I shall yet o'ertake him, he shall answer to me, I

trow,

For the deed he hath done, and his reason for vengeance on

thee I'll know!' 70

But the wounded knight spake, 'Not so, for true are the words

I say,

And no child's play shall be this journey, great perils beset

the way.'

With the band from the maiden's tresses Gawain the wound did

bind,

And spake o'er it spells of healing, and he bade them their

comfort find

In God, since He cares for all men--With blood was their

pathway red, 75

And crimson the grass besprinkled as a stag had its

life-blood shed;

Thus he rode not astray, and in short space did Logrois

before him stand--

A fortress so fair and stately, its praise was in every land.

'Twas a stately Burg well builded, and it wound the hillside

round,

From afar as a mighty circlet the fortress the summit

crowned. 80

E'en to-day men this honour give it, its wall shall be

stormed in vain,

For it openeth its gates to no foeman, whose hatred soe'er it

gain!

And a garden lay green around it, 'twas planted with trees so

fair,

Olive, pomegranate, fig-tree, and the vine which its grapes

doth bear,

And gaily they grew and flourished--as Gawain rode that

garden bright 85

He saw there what wrought him sorrow, yet filled him with all

delight!

A streamlet gushed forth from the hillside, there he saw that

which grieved him naught,

A lady so fair to look on that gladly her face he sought.

The flower was she of all women, save Kondwiramur alone

No fairer form nor feature might ever on earth be known. 90

So sweet and so bright to look on, so courteous and royal of

mien,

Orgelusé, was she, of Logrois, and men say that in her was

seen

The charm that desire awakeneth, a balm for the eyes of care,

For no heart but was drawn toward her, and no mouth but would

speak her fair!

Gawain gave her courteous greeting, and he spake, 'If such

grace I gain 95

That thou willest I should alight here and awhile at thy side

remain,

If I see that my presence please thee, then sorrow be far

from me,

And joy in its stead dwell with me, no knight e'er might

gladder be!

May I die if the truth I speak not, no woman e'er pleased me

more--'

'It is well, yet methinks I knew that,' then the knight for a

space she saw; 100

And her sweet lips spake thus unto him, 'Now make of thy

praise an end,

For well might it work thee evil, and I care not that foe or

friend,

Whoever he be that cometh, his judgment on me shall speak,

For sure if all lips shall praise me my fame it but waxeth

weak!

If the wise praise me e'en as the foolish, the false as the

pure and true, 105

Then my fame shall be e'en as another's, for the many shall

drown the few.

But my praise do I hold, and but wisdom shall speak that

which she doth know--

Who thou mayst be, Sir Knight, I know not, but 'tis time thou

thy way shouldst go!'

'Yet o'er thee will I speak my verdict, if thou dwellest

anear my heart

Then thy dwelling is not _within_ it, for _without_ shalt

thou have thy part. 110

And say thou my love desirest, how hast thou rewarding won?

From the eyes swiftly shoot the glances, yet a sling, when

the work is done,

Smiteth gentler than looks which linger on that which doth

sorrow wreak,

Thy desire is but empty folly, thou shouldst other service

seek!

If thine hand for love's sake shall battle, if adventure hath

bidden thee 115

By knighthood win love's rewarding, yet thou winnest it not

from _me_.

Nor honour shall be thy portion, but shame shalt thou win

alone--

Now the truth have I spoken unto thee, 'twere best thou

shouldst get thee gone!'

Then he quoth, 'Truth thou speakest, Lady, since mine eyes

thus mine heart have brought

In danger, for _they_ beheld thee, and thy fetters around me

wrought. 120

But now, since I be thy captive, I prithee entreat me well,

Without thine own will hast thou done this, in silence I

owned thy spell:

Thou shalt loose me, or thou shalt bind me, for my will it

shall be as thine,

And gladly all woes I'ld suffer if so I might call thee

mine!'

Then she quoth, 'Yea! so take me with thee, if thou countest

upon thy gain, 125

And the love that shall be thy guerdon, thou shalt mourn it

in shame and pain.

I would know if a man thou shalt be who bravely for me would

fight--

And yet, if thou prize thine honour, thou wilt flee from this

strife, Sir Knight!

And should I yet further rede thee, and thou shouldst to my

word say yea,

Then seek thou elsewhere a lady--For, if thou my love dost

pray, 130

Then joy and fair love's rewarding fall never unto thy share,

But sorrow shall be thy portion if hence I with thee shall

fare!'

Then answered Gawain, 'Without service, who thinketh true

love to win?

An one did so, then here I tell thee, 'twere counted to him

for sin,

For true love ever asketh service, yea after as aye before!' 135

Then she quoth, 'Wilt thou do me service? shame waiteth for

thee in store,

Tho' thy life be a life of conflict--No coward as my knight

I'll own;

See thou yonder path, 'tis no highway, o'er the bridge doth

it wend adown

To the garden, take thou the pathway, for there shalt thou

find my steed--

Many folk shalt thou see and shalt hearken, but take thou of

their words no heed, 140

Nor stay for their dance or singing, for tambour, or harp, or

flute,

But go thou to my horse, and loose it, that I go not with

thee afoot!'

Gawain sprang from off his charger--Yet awhile he bethought

him well

Where his steed might abide his coming: by the waters that

rippling fell

Was no tree unto which to bind it, and he knew not if he this

dame 145

Might pray, would she hold his charger till once more with

her own he came.

Then she quoth, 'I see well what doth vex thee, thine horse

shalt thou leave with me,

I will guard it until thy coming tho' small good shall that

be to thee!'

Then Gawain took his horse's bridle, 'Now hold this for me, I

pray;'

'Now indeed art thou dull and foolish,' spake the lady,

'where _thou_ dost lay 150

Thine hand, thinkest thou _I'll_ hold it? such deed would

beseem me ill!'

Then the love-lorn knight spake gently, for fain would he do

her will,

'Further forward I never hold it!' Then she quoth, '_I_ will

hold it there,

And do thou my bidding swiftly, bring my steed and with thee

I'll fare;'

Then he thought this a joyful hearing, and straightway he

left her side, 155

And over the bridge so narrow to the garden gate he hied;

There saw he many a maiden, and knights so brave and young,

And within that goodly garden so gaily they danced and sung.

And Gawain he was clad so richly, with helmet and harness

fair,

That all must bewail his coming for naught but true folk

dwelt there. 160

They cared for that lovely garden, on the greensward they

stood or lay,

Or sat 'neath the tents whose shadow was cool 'gainst the

sunlight's ray.

Yet they ceased not to bemoan him, and to grieve for his

sorrow sore,

Yea, man alike and maiden, and in this wise their plaint they

bore,

'Alas! that our lady's cunning will to danger this knight

betray! 165

Alas! that he fain will follow, for she rideth an evil way.'

And many stepped fair towards him, and their arms around him

threw,

And bade him a friendly greeting--to an olive tree he drew,

For the steed was fast beneath it, so rich was its gear, I

ween,

That the cost of the goodly trappings full thousand marks had

been. 170

And an old knight he stood beside it, well-trimmed was his

beard and grey,

And upon a staff he leant him, and salt tears he wept alway.

And the tears, they were shed for Gawain, as he to the steed

drew near,

Yet his words of kindly greeting fell soft on the hero's ear.

Then he spake, 'Wilt thou hearken counsel? Lay not on this

steed thine hand, 175

And herein shalt thou show thy wisdom--tho' none here thy

will withstand,

Yet, indeed, it were best to leave it! Accurst be our lady

queen,

For of many a gallant hero, I wot, she the death hath been!'

Yet Gawain he would do her bidding--'Then, alas! for woe

draweth near,'

Spake the knight, and he loosed the halter, ''Twere best not

to linger here, 180

The steed shalt thou take, and shalt leave us, and may He Who

made salt the sea,

In the hour of thy need, and thy peril, thy strength and thy

counsel be:

And see thou that our lady's beauty, it bringeth thee not to

shame,

She is sour in the midst of sweetness, 'mid the sunlight a

shower of rain.'

'God grant it,' then quoth Sir Gawain, and straightway he

took his leave 185

Of the old knight and of his comrades and sorely the folk did

grieve.

And the horse went a narrow pathway, and it passed thro' the

garden gate,

And it crossed o'er the bridge, and he found her who there

did his coming wait,

The queen of his heart, and the ruler was she of that land so

fair,

Yet altho' his heart fled towards her yet grief thro' her

deed it bare. 190

Her hand 'neath her chin soft-rounded had loosened the

wimple's fold,

And flung it aback on her head-gear,--(if a woman ye thus

behold,

Know ye that for strife she longeth and mischief she hath in

mind)--

Would ye know how else she had robed her ye naught in my song

shall find,

For how might I tell her raiment and name ye her robes

aright, 195

When mine eyes, on her fair face gazing, saw naught but her

beauty bright?

As Gawain drew near the lady, she hailed him with scornful

mien,

'Now welcome, thou goose! for of all men most foolish art

thou, I ween,

All too bent shalt thou be on my service, wert thou wise thou

wouldst let it be--'

Then he quoth, 'Yet shalt thou be gracious who now art so

wroth with me, 200

For so harshly thou dost chastise me thou in honour must make

it good,

And my hand shall be fain to serve thee till thou winnest a

milder mood;

Ask thou what of me thou willest--Shall I lift thee upon thy

steed?'

But she quoth, 'I will no such service, for methinks all too

great such meed

For a hand that is yet unproven--Ask thou for a lesser

grace!' 205

On the flowery sward she turned her, and she looked not on

Gawain's face,

But she laid her hand on the bridle, and she light to the

saddle sprung,

And she bade him to ride before her, and she spake with a

mocking tongue,

'Now indeed would it be great pity did I stray from so brave

a knight,

By God's grace will we keep together, so ride thou within my

sight!' 210

Now he who my rede would follow his peace shall he hold

awhile,

Lest he speak but the word of folly, till he know if she

wrought of guile,

For as yet the truth ye know not, nor the thing that was in

her heart.

And were it the time for vengeance, then I too might bear my

part,

And take from this lady payment for the wrong she hath done

Gawain; 215

Nor of that she shall do hereafter shall aught unavenged

remain.

But Orgelusé, that lovely lady, bare herself in no friendly

wise,

For she rode in the track of Gawain, and so wrathful, I ween,

her guise

That were I in the stead of Gawain little comfort my soul

might take

That she from my care would free me, and with fair love

atonement make. 220

Then they rode on an open moorland, and a herb did Sir Gawain

see

Whose root had the power of healing, and down to the ground

sprang he,

And dug up the root, and swiftly he sprang on his steed

again.

And the lady she looked upon him, and she spake in a mocking

vein,

'Now in sooth if this my companion can at one-while be leech

and knight, 225

For starvation he need not fear him if his salve-box he bear

aright!'

Quoth Gawain, ''Neath a mighty linden a wounded knight I saw,

Methinks, if again I find him, this herb shall the poison

draw

From his wounds, and new strength may give him!' She spake,

'Now I well were fain

To look on thy skill, for who knoweth what knowledge I thence

may gain!' 230

Now a squire he rode swift behind them, 'twas the lady's

messenger,

Fain was he to do her bidding--As the horse-hoofs they drew

anear

Gawain would await his coming, and his steed for a space he

held,

Yet he deemed him he saw a monster when first he the squire

beheld,

For Malcréature did they call him, and Kondrie was his sister

fair, 235

And e'en such a face as the sister, I ween, did the brother

bear.

From his mouth, as the tusks of a wild-boar, stood the teeth

out to left and right,

Unlike was his face to a man's face, and fearful in all men's

sight.

And the locks of his hair were shorter than those which from

Kondrie hung

Adown on her mule, stiff as bristles, and sharp, from his

head they sprung. 240

And beside the river Ganges, in the land of Tribalibot,

Dwell such folk, if awhile ye hearken ye shall learn how

befell their lot.

Now Adam, of all men father, from God did he learn such

skill,

All beasts, wild and tame, he knew them, and he namèd them at

his will.

And he knew the stars and their pathway, as they circle the

silent sky, 245

And the power of the seven planets, how they rule men from

heaven high,

And he knew of all roots the virtue, and the ill that was

theirs of yore--

When his children were grown to manhood, and daughters and

sons they bore,

From evil desires he warned them; and his daughters he oft

did rede

Of certain roots to beware them, that wrought ill with the

human seed, 250

And would change their face, and their aspect, and

dishonoured the race should be;

And he spake, 'Then shall we be other than erst God did

fashion me,

And therefore do ye, my children, give heed to the words I

say,

Nor be blind to your bliss, lest _your_ children they wander

too far astray.'

But the women, they did as women, in forbidden ways they

went, 255

And they wrought out the lust and the evil on which their

desire was bent,

And the shape of men was changèd, such rewarding their fault

must win,

And tho' firm stood the will of Adam yet sorely he mourned

their sin--

Now the fair Queen Sekundillé, her body, her crown, and land,

Feirefis had won as his guerdon by the power of his knightly

hand, 260

And there, in her far-off kingdom (no lie is the tale I tell)

Full many of this strange people since the days that are gone

do dwell,

And their faces are ill to look on, and the birth-marks are

strange they bear.

And once of the Grail men told her, and Anfortas' kingdom

fair,

That on earth was naught like to his riches, and a marvel she

thought his land-- 265

(And the waters within her kingdom bare jewels instead of

sand,

And many a golden mountain shall rear its crest on high.)

And the queen she thought, 'How may I win speech of his

majesty,

Who ruleth the Grail?' she bethought her, and rich presents

she sent the king,

Of jewels fair, and beside them, they should to his kingdom

bring 270

Of this folk, so strange to look on, the twain of whom now I

tell,

Kondrie and the squire, her brother--and in this wise the

chance befell

(Much treasure beside she sent him whose cost might of none

be told,)

That Anfortas, the gentle monarch, who was courteous as he

was bold,

For the love he bare Orgelusé sent this squire unto her

grace, 275

By the sin and the lust of women set apart from the human

race!

Now this son of the herbs and the planets loud mocked at the

gallant knight,

Who, courteous, would wait his coming; no charger he rode of

might,

But a mare so feint and feeble and halting in every limb,

And oft to the ground it stumbled 'neath its rider so harsh

and grim. 280

I wot well e'en Dame Jeschuté rode a better steed that day

When Parzival's hand avenged her, and her shaming was put

away!

The squire he looked well upon Gawain, and thus in his wrath

he spake,

'If thou be a _knight_, I think me, and my lady with thee

wilt take

Thou shalt sorely repent the journey--A fool thou in truth

must be, 285

And such peril shall be thy guerdon as winneth great praise

to thee,

If so be that thou canst withstand it--Yet, if but a

_servant_ thou,

Of buffets and blows, I think me, full soon wilt thou have

enow!'

Then out quoth Gawain, 'My knighthood such chastisement ne'er

might feel,

'Tis good but for worthless youngsters who shrink from the

touch of steel; 290

But _I_ hold me free of such insults, and e'en if it so shall

be

That thou and this lovely lady your mock'ry shall pour on me,

Then _one_ sure shall taste my vengeance, nor think thou that

I wax wroth

For ill tho' thou be to look on I hold thee but light in

troth!'

With that by the hair he gripped him, and he swung him from

off his horse, 295

The squire glared wrathful on him, and his bristles, so sharp

and coarse,

Took vengeance sore on Gawain, his hand did they cut and tear

Till the blood dripped crimson from it--then loud laughed the

lady fair,

'Now in sooth this is good to look on, to see ye twain in

wrath!'

So rode the twain, the squire's horse came halting upon their

path. 300

So came they unto the linden where the wounded knight they

found,

On his side the herb of healing the hand of Gawain bound;

Quoth the knight, 'Now, how went it with thee since first

thou didst find me here?

Thou leadest with thee a lady who plotteth thine ill, I fear!

'Tis thro' her I so sore am wounded; at the Perilous Ford, I

ween, 305

Did she force such a joust upon me as well-nigh my death had

been!

So, if thou thy life now lovest, I warn thee to let her be,

And turn thee aside, nor ride with her, but warning to take

by me--

And yet may my wounds be healèd, if rest for awhile I gain,

And, Sir Knight, thereto canst thou help me!' 'That will I,'

quoth knight Gawain. 310

Then the wounded knight spake further, 'A spital shall stand

near by,

And if I but now might reach it for awhile I in peace might

lie,

Thou seest my lady's palfrey, it can carry, methinks, the

twain

If she rideth afore, I behind her, so help me its back to

gain.'

From the bough of the mighty linden Sir Gawain he loosed the

steed, 315

And the bridle he took that the palfrey he might to the lady

lead--

'Away from me!' cried the sick man, 'thou treadest on me I

trow!'

Then he led it apart, and the lady she followed so soft and

slow,

For she knew what her lord did purpose; as the maid to her

horse he swung,

Up started the knight, and swiftly on the charger of Gawain

sprung! 320

And, methinks, an ill deed he did there--With his lady he

rode away,

And I ween that with sin was tainted the prize that he won

that day!

Then sore did Gawain bemoan him, but the lady laughed loud

and clear;

(And, were it a jest, he thought him such mirth were

unfitting here,)

As his charger was taken from him her sweet lips in this wise

spake, 325

'First wert thou a _knight_, then, in short space, I thee for

a _leech_ must take,

Now art thou become my _footman_! yet thou shouldst in no

wise despair,

Such skill sure should bring thee comfort! Wouldst thou

_still_ in my favours share?'

'Yea, Lady,' then quoth Sir Gawain, 'an I might thy favor

hold,

The whole earth hath nothing fairer were the tale of its

riches told; 330

And of crownèd heads, and uncrownèd, of all who may joyful

win

The highest meed of glory, did they bid me to share therein,

Yet still my heart would rede me to count all such gain as

naught

If thy love were but weighed against it, such bliss had thy

favour brought!

If thy love may not be my guerdon then a swift sad death I'll

die, 335

'Tis thine own this thing that thou scornest when thou

dealest thus mockingly.

Tho' a free man born thou shalt hold me thy vassal, if such

thy will,

Call me knight, or slave, or servant, the _name_ it shall

please me still!

Yet, I think me, thou doest not rightly--When my service thou

thus wilt shame

Thou drawest down sin upon thee, and thou shamest thine own

fair fame. 340

If my service doth bring me honour thou hast naught withal to

scorn,

And such words shall but ill beseem thee tho' they lightly by

me be borne!'

Then back rode the knight, sore wounded, and he quoth, 'Is it

thou, Gawain?

For that which erewhile I owed thee here dost thou full

payment gain,

Since thine hand in bitter conflict, me, thy foeman, did

prisoner make 345

And unto thine uncle Arthur thou didst me thy captive take,

And four weeks long must I dwell there, and four weeks long I

fed

With the dogs--I shall ne'er forget it till the days of my

life be sped!'

Then he quoth, 'Is it thou, O Urian? If now thou art wroth

with me,

Yet guiltless am I, the king's favour at that time I won for

thee, 350

For thy folly so far betrayed thee that men spake thee an

outcast knight,

And thy shield it was taken from thee, and forfeit thy name

and right;

Since thou ill didst entreat a maiden, and the peace of the

land didst break,

With a rope had the king repaid thee, but to him for thy life

I spake!'

'Howe'er that might be, here thou standest, and the proverb

thou well mayst know, 355

"Who saveth the life of another, that other shall have for

foe."

And I do as a wise man doeth--'Tis better a child should weep

Than a full-grown man, and bearded,--this charger mine hand

shall keep!'

Then he spurred him amain, and he rode thence, as fast as his

steed might fly,

And wroth was Gawain at his dealing, and he spake out right

angrily; 360

'Now it fell out in this wise, Lady, King Arthur his court

did hold

At Dianasdron, and with him rode many a Breton bold.

Then as messenger to his kingdom a maiden must take her way,

And this fool, for venture seeking, he crossed her path that

day,

And both to the land were strangers--He burnt with unholy

fire, 365

And fierce with the maid he wrestled till he bent her to his

desire.

As she cried for help we heard her--then the king "To arms"

did call,

In a wood the thing had chanced thus, thither rode we one and

all,

And I rode of all the foremost, and I saw the sinner's track,

And I made him perforce my captive, and to Arthur I brought

him back.' 370

'And the maiden she rode beside us, and sorely did she bemoan

That to _force_ she must yield the guerdon that to _service_

was due alone.

Of her maidenhood had he robbed her--Yet but lowly his fame

shall stand

Who vaunteth himself the victor o'er a woman's unarmèd hand--

And wrathful, I ween, was King Arthur, and he spake, 'Ye my

servants true, 375

Ye shall hold this deed for accursèd, and the day of its

doing rue.

Alas! for the woful dawning and the light that this thing

hath seen,

Alas! that I here am ruler, for the judgment is mine, I

ween!'

And he spake to the weeping maiden, 'Hast thou wisdom, thy

cause then plead.'

She spake fearless, e'en as he bade her, and the knights they

must list her rede. 380

'Then Prince Urian of Punturtois stood before the Breton

king,

And against his life and his honour, her plaint did the

maiden bring,

And she spake so that all might hear her, and with weeping

words did pray

The king, for the sake of women, her shaming to put away.

And she prayed by the honour of women, and by the Round

Table's fame, 385

And the right which as message-bearer she thought of all men

to claim,

If he sat there that day for judgment he should judge her

with judgment true,

And avenge her of this dishonour which her soul must for ever

rue.

And she prayed they would do her justice, those knights of

the Table Round,

Since in sooth she had lost a treasure which might never

again be found, 390

Her maidenhood fair and unstainèd! Then all men, with one

accord,

Spake him guilty, and for his judgment called loudly upon

their lord!'

'Then an advocate spake for the captive, (Small honour was

his I trow.)

And he spake as he might in his favour, yet it went with him

ill enow,

For of life and of honour forfeit did they judge him, the

headsman's sword 395

Should ne'er be his death, but a halter should they twine him

of hempen cord.

Then loud in his woe he prayed me, since he yielded him to

mine hand,

For mine honour should sure be stainèd if wrought were the

king's command.

Then I prayed of the weeping maiden, since she saw how that I

in fight

Had avenged upon him her shaming, to pardon the traitor

knight. 400

For sure 'twas the spell of her beauty that had wrought upon

him for sin,

And the love of her form so shapely--"For aye if a knight

doth win

Sore peril for love of a woman, she should aid him, and hear

his prayer,

So I prithee to cease thine anger, and have pity on his

despair."'

'Then the king and his men I prayed them, by what service I

e'er had done, 405

They should loose me from stain of dishonour which I by his

death had won,

And the knight should live, as I sware him.--Then the lady,

his gracious queen,

I prayed by the bond of kinship, since my friend she hath

ever been,

(From my childhood, King Arthur reared me and my love doth

toward them flow,)

That she of her kindness help me--as I asked, it was even so, 410

For she drew on one side the maiden, and she spake to her

soft and kind,

And it was thro' the queen, I wot me, that the knight did his

pardon find.

Thus free from his guilt they spake him, yet his sin must he

sorely rue,

For the life that was granted to him stern penance he needs

must do.

With the hounds of the chase and the house-dogs from one

trough he needs must eat 415

For the space of four weeks, thus the maiden found avenging

as it was meet!'

'For this cause is he wroth with me, Lady'--'Yet his judgment

it went astray,

If my love ne'er shall be thy guerdon, in such wise I'll his

deed repay

That ere he shall leave my kingdom he shall count it to him

for shame!

Since King Arthur avenged not the evil that was wrought on

that maid's fair fame 420

It falleth unto mine office, and judge am I o'er ye twain,

Tho' who ye may be I know not, yet I to this task am fain!

And well shall he be chastisèd for the wrong that he did the

maid,

Not for _thine_, for I ween such evil is better by blows

repaid.'

To the mare now Sir Gawain turned him, and lightly he caught

the rein, 425

And the squire he followed after, and the lady she spake

again,

And in Arabic spake she to him, and she gave him to know her

will--

Now hearken unto my story, how Sir Gawain he fared but ill:

Then Malcréature, he left them--and Gawain his horse beheld,

Too feeble it was for battle, the squire, as his way he held 430

Down the hill, from the peasant-owner had taken the sorry

steed,

And Gawain for his charger must have it, tho' but ill it

might serve his need.

In mocking and hatred spake she, 'Wilt still ride upon thy

way?'

Quoth Gawain, 'I will take my journey e'en in such wise as

thou shalt say.'

She quoth, 'Wilt abide my counsel? It shall reach thee I ween

too late!' 435

Quoth he, 'Yet for that will I serve thee, tho' o'er-long I

thy rede shall wait!'

Quoth she, 'Then a fool I think thee, for unless thou shalt

leave this mind,

Then sorrow instead of gladness and repentance for joy

thou'lt find!'

Then he quoth, of her love desirous, 'Yet thy servant I still

abide,

If joy be my lot or sorrow, be thy love and thy will my

guide. 440

Since thy love laid its spell upon me in thy bidding my law I

see,

And ahorse or afoot I'll follow, I care not where'er it be!'

So stood he beside the lady, and awhile he beheld the mare,

Who to joust with such steed had ridden his gold were

o'er-keen to spare!

For the stirrups of hemp were twisted, and ne'er had this

gallant knight 445

Such saddle, I ween, bestridden, it would serve him but ill

for fight.

For e'en as he looked upon it, he thought, 'If on _that_ I

ride,

The girths sure will break asunder, nor the saddle my weight

abide!'

And so weak was the steed and ill-shapen, had one dared on

its back to leap

Of a sooth would the back have broken--On foot he the road

must keep! 450

And in this guise he took his journey: the horse by the rein

he held,

And his spear and his shield he carried; and the lady his

grief beheld,

And she mocked him with ringing laughter, fain was she to

work him woe--

Then his shield on the mare he fastened, and she spake, 'In

such guise wouldst go,

And carry thy wares thro' my kingdom? A strange lot is mine,

I ween, 455

Since _footman_, and _leech_, and _merchant_ in turn hath my

comrade been!

Of the toll hadst thou best beware thee, or else, as thou

goest thy way,

It may chance they who take the toll here on thy merchandise

hands may lay!

And tho' sharp, I ween, was her mocking yet her words was he

fain to hear,

Nor rued he the bitter speeches that rang sweet to his

longing ear. 460

And as ever his eyes beheld her his sorrow it fled away,

For fair was she to his thinking as blossoms in month of May!

A delight of the eyes, and heart-sorrow, his gain and his

loss was she,

And languishing joy did she quicken--Her freeman and captive

he!

This hath many a master taught me, that Amor, and Cupid too, 465

And Venus, of both the mother, make all men their deeds to

rue;

For with darts and with fire they kindle desire in the

longing heart,

But such love seemeth me but evil that is lighted by torch or

dart.

And the true heart it loveth ever, be its guerdon or joy or

woe,

And in honour the love is rooted which alone shall abiding

know! 470

'Gainst me have thy darts, O Cupid! I ween ever missed their

mark,

Nor Amor with spear hath smote me, nor fell on my heart a

spark

From the torch of thy mother Venus--Tho' love 'neath your

rule shall be,

If love be my lot, not from _passion_ but from _faith_ shall

it bloom for me!

And if I with wit and wisdom 'gainst love's spells might a

hero aid, 475

Gawain had I gladly aided, nor asked that I be repaid.

And yet no shame need he think it if love's fetters him

captive hold,

And if he of love be vanquished, for her captives are aye the

bold.

And yet so strong was he ever, and so knightly, to face the

foe,

That 'tis pity so brave a hero by a _woman_ should be laid

low! 480

Now well let us gaze upon thee, thou power which true love

doth wield,

Such joy hast thou taken from us that barren and reft the

field,

And thou makest a road of sorrow across it, both long and

wide,

And if thy goal had been other than the high heart I would

not chide.

For folly methinks and lightness love all too old shall be, 485

Or shall we to childhood reckon the evil love worketh free?

For better are ways unseemly in youth, than if age forget

Its wisdom--much ill love worketh, unto which shall the blame

be set?

For the mind of youth ever wavers, and changeth as changing

winds,

And if love shall be thus unsteadfast, little praise may she

hope to find. 490

Nay, better shall be my counsel, for the _wise_ praise true

love alone;

Yea, and maiden and man shall join me, and all who love's

power have known.

When true love unto true love answereth, undarkened by

thought of guile,

And it vexeth them not that love turneth the key on their

heart awhile,

For they fear not nor think of wavering, then high as the

heaven above 495

O'er the earth, o'er the love that changeth, is such true and

steadfast love.

Yet, gladly as I would free him, to Frau Minne Gawain must

bow,

And his joy shall awhile be darkened--Small profit my words,

I trow,

And the wisdom I fain had taught him, for no man may love

withstand,

And love alone giveth wisdom, and nerveth with strength the

hand! 500

And to Gawain she gave this penance, afoot must he wend his

way

While his lady she rode beside him--To a woodland they came

alway,

And he led the steed to a tree-trunk, and the shield that

awhile it bare

He hung round his neck as befitting, and lightly bestrode the

mare,

And scarcely the steed might bear him--Then they came to a

builded land, 505

And a castle so fair and stately he saw there before him

stand,

And his heart and his eyes bare witness no fortress was like

this hall,

So knightly and fair the palace, and so countless its turrets

tall.

And many a maiden looked forth from its casements, he thought

to see

Four hundred and more, o'er all others, I ween, _four_ might

fairest be. 510

Then the lady and her companion they rode a well-trodden road

To a water whose waves ran swiftly, and ships sailed the

flood so broad.

By the landing there lay a meadow, where men jousts were wont

to ride,

And the towers of that stately castle rose fair on the

further side.

Then Gawain, that gallant hero, saw a knight who rode swift

and near, 515

As one who for combat lusted, and he spared not or shield or

spear.

Quoth the lady, fair Orgelusé, and haughty her tone and

proud,

'In what else thou mayst gainsay me in this be my truth

allowed,

For other I ne'er have told thee save that shame shall thy

portion be,

Now here, if thou canst, defend thee, since no better is left

to thee. 520

Methinks he who cometh hither shall fell thee beneath his

thrust--

If thy garments perchance be riven, and thou bitest, ashamed,

the dust,

Then those women above shall mourn thee, who look for some

deed of fame,

Seest thou how they gaze from the lattice? How, then, if they

see thy shame?'

Then the boatman across the water he came at the lady's will, 525

From the shore to the boat she stepped there, and Gawain it

but pleased him ill;

For, mocking, fair Orgelusé spake thus to the gallant knight,

'Thou com'st not with me, I leave thee on this shore as a

pledge for fight!'

Then sadly his voice rang after, 'Say, Lady, wilt leave me

so?

Shall I never again behold thee?' Then she spake, 'I would

have thee know 530

If victory be thy portion thou shalt look on my face again,

Yet but small is the chance I think me.' So sailed she from

knight Gawain.

Then up rode Lischois Giwellius, 'twere a lie if I said he

_flew_,

And yet little other did he for the earth scarce his

footprints knew.

And for this must I praise the charger, who the greensward

with such swift feet 535

Had trodden--Gawain bethought him how he best might his

foeman meet;

He thought, 'Should I here await him afoot, or this steed

bestride?

If his horse's speed he check not he surely o'er me will

ride,

And this fate must o'ertake his charger, to fall o'er my

fallen steed;

But, if he for combat lusteth, afoot on this flowery mead 540

Will I face him and give him battle, since battle he doth

desire,

Tho' never I win her favour who hath brought on me need so

dire.'

Fight they must, and they fought as heroes, he who came and

he who did wait,

For jousting he made him ready, and the lance-point Gawain

held straight,

And he rested it on the saddle, (for thus did he counsel

take,) 545

Then e'en as the joust was ridden the spears did in splinters

break,

And the knights, the one as the other, they fell in that

goodly fray,

For the better charger stumbled and by Gawain its rider lay.

Then the twain to their feet upspringing their swords from

the scabbard drew,

Since alike they were keen for combat, and their shields in

pieces flew, 550

For each hewed at the shield of the other till a hand's

breadth alone, I ween,

They held, for the pledge of conflict the shield it hath ever

been.

Flashed the sword-blades, fire sprang from the helmets, a

venture brave I trow

Was his who should here be victor, tho' stern conflict he

first must know.

Long space did they fight, those heroes, on the flowery

meadow wide, 555

And as smiths, who all day have laboured, as it weareth to

eventide

Grow faint with their toil and weary with the mighty blows

they smite,

So weary and faint were those heroes who here did for honour

fight.

But for this none methinks shall praise them, unwise do I

hold the twain,

No cause had they here for battle, 'twas fame that they

thought to gain; 560

And strangers unto each other, each other's life they sought,

And yet, had they made confession, each owed to the other

naught!

Now Gawain was a gallant wrestler, and his foe to the ground

would bring

If in spite of the sword he might grip him, and let but the

mighty ring

Of his arms his foeman circle, he forced him where'er he

would. 565

Now must he with force defend him, and he fought as a hero

good,

And his courage waxed ever higher, and the youth in his arms

he caught,

And he bare him to earth beneath him tho' e'en as a man he

fought.

And he quoth, 'Wilt thou live, thou hero, thou must yield

thee unto mine hand!'

Yet Lischois, he was all unready to follow so stern command; 570

For never his pledge had he given, and he deemed it a

wondrous thing

That the hand of a knight should o'erthrow him, and him in

such peril bring

That against his will he must yield him, who had ever the

victor been,

For in sooth full many a combat his foeman o'erthrown had

seen.

Full oft he from them had taken what he cared not to give

again, 575

Nay, rather his life would he forfeit; and he spake unto

knight Gawain,

And he said, 'Let what would befall him, his pledge to no man

he'd give;'

Nay, death would he rather suffer, since no longer he cared

to live!

Then sadly, he spake, the vanquished, 'Thou hero, is victory

thine?

So long as God bare me favour such honour was ever mine; 580

But now hath my fame an ending, and thy right hand hath laid

me low,

And if maiden and man must hearken to the tale of my

overthrow

Whose glory once rose to the heaven, then death shall my

portion be

Ere my kinsmen shall hear the story, and shall sorrow and

mourn for me!

Yet Gawain still prayed him yield him, but his will and his

mind were so 585

That he prayed God would rather take him, or slay him by this

his foe.

Thought Gawain, 'I am loth to kill him, if he swear but to do

my will

Unharmed he may go'--yet the young knight withheld him his

promise still.

Then, ere he his hand had given, the hero he bade him rise,

On the flowery mead they sat them: then Gawain he bethought

him wise, 590

(For his sorry steed it vexed him) the horse of his

vanquished foe

With spur and with rein would he test there, if 'twere good

for his need or no.

('Twas armed as beseemed a warhorse, and the covering was

fair to see,

Of velvet and silk was it fashioned, what trapping might

better be?)

Since the venture such prize had brought him, who should

hinder him in his need 595

If for his own use he took it? so he vaulted upon the steed:

And he joyed in the free, swift movement, and he cried, 'Now,

how shall this be?

Of a sooth it is thou, Gringuljet, that false Urian stole

from me.

_He_ knoweth best how he took it, and shameful I count his

deed.

Now, who thus for battle armed thee, since thou art of a

truth my steed? 600

Sure 'tis God who hath sent thee to me, and this fair gift

shall end my woe.'

Then he sprang to the ground, and he sought him the token he

well might know,

On its shoulder the Grail-Dove branded--In a joust did

Lähelein slay

Its rider, the knight of Prienlaskors, and the charger he

bare away.

Then Orilus was its master, and he gave it to knight Gawain 605

On Plimizöl's shore--greatly joyed he when the charger he won

again.

Blithe was he, and high of courage, who awhile was sad and

sore,

Yet love unto ruth constrained him, and the service so true

he bore

To the lady who yet would shame him, and his thoughts ever

toward her flew.

Then up sprang proud Lischois lightly, and his good sword he

gripped anew, 610

For it lay where Gawain had cast it when he wrested it from

his hand:

And the ladies look down on the heroes, as for combat once

more they stand.

The shields were so hacked and riven that the knights they

must cast them by,

And, shieldless, to strife betake them, and they bare them

right gallantly.

And a crowd of fair maidens o'er them from the palace window

saw 615

The strife that below was foughten: and fierce anger awoke

once more,

For too nobly born I wot me was each man that he might brook

That his fame should be lightly yielded, and maids on his

shaming look.

And helmet and sword were smitten, for shields 'gainst cold

death were they,

He who saw the heroes strive there had mourned for their toil

that day. 620

Lischois Giwellius bare him, that fair youth, as knight so

brave,

True courage, and deeds undaunted, the counsel his high heart

gave.

And many a swift blow dealt he, as quick on Gawain he sprung,

And lightly avoided from him, and his blade round his head he

swung.

But Gawain stood firm and undaunted, and he thought him,

'Now, let me hold 625

Thee once in mine arms, I'll repay thee thy dealings, thou

hero bold!'

And fiery sparks might ye look on, and the flash of the

glittering blade

Well wielded by hand of hero--Nor one in his station stayed,

For they pressed each one on the other, backward, forward, to

either side,

Yet this conflict so fierce, I wot me, did ne'er of revenge

betide, 630

And no hatred they bare to each other--Then the arms of

Gawain at last

He clasped round his gallant foeman, and the knight to the

ground he cast.

And I think, an I friendship sware here, I would shrink from

such fond embrace,

E'en tho' brotherhood it were sealing--Nor with ye would such

clasp find grace!

Then Gawain he bade him yield him, yet Lischois, who against

his will 635

Had striven when first he felled him, was all unready still.

And he quoth, 'Wherefore thus delay thee, 'tis needless, take

thou my life,

For better to die than to yield me--Since I wot well that in

this strife

The fame that was mine aforetime hath vanished beneath thy

blow,

Of God must I be accursèd, since my glory such goal doth

know! 640

For the love of fair Orgelusé have I served her with knightly

hand,

And many a knight have I felled here, for none might my arm

withstand.

Now shalt thou be heir to my glory, for it falleth to thee of

right

If thou, who my fame hath ended, here endeth my life, Sir

Knight.'

But King Lot's son he thought in this wise, 'To this deed

have I little mind, 645

My name, it shall gain small honour if this man here his

death shall find,

If for no sin of his I slay him, who is true and valiant

knight--

'Twas _her_ love that spurred him 'gainst me, for whose

favour I too would fight;

'Tis her beauty that doth constrain me, 'tis she that doth

work me woe,

Then why not, for the sake of my lady, show mercy to this my

foe? 650

If perchance for mine own I win her, if mine own such bliss

may be,

Then _he_ cannot take her from me since stronger am I than

he!

And if o'er our strife she watcheth, then she must of a

surety own

That I, who for love would serve her, true service and good

have shown!'

Then out spake the gallant Gawain, 'I were loth thy life to

take, 655

But hence will I let thee, scatheless, for fair Orgelusé's

sake!'

Weary were they, small wonder, then the fallen knight arose,

And down on the grassy meadow apart sat those gallant foes.

Then the master boatman stepped forth from the water unto the

land,

And a grey and yearling falcon he carried upon his hand. 660

This right was his o'er the meadow, who jousted upon the

plain,

The charger of him who was vanquished he did as his tribute

gain.

From his hand, who was there the victor, should he take, as a

gift, the steed,

And bowing, thank him fairly, nor stint of his praise the

meed.

And such payment he oft had taken on the flowery meadow

green, 665

Nor otherwise had his living; save at whiles, when such

chance had been,

That a bird in his falcon's clutches had fluttered in grief

and pain.

Nor plough drave he thro' those furrows, for enough did he

deem his gain.

And son of a folk so knightly was he born to a knight's

estate,

And courteous, I ween, his bearing who there on Gawain did

wait. 670

So came he unto the hero, and with courteous word and fair

He prayed of his hand the tribute, and the steed that should

be his share.

Quoth Gawain, the gallant hero, 'No merchant methinks I be

To pay here or toll or tribute, from such tax do I hold me

free!'

Then he spake out, the master boatman, 'Sir Knight, since

full many a maid 675

Hath seen thee stand here the victor, by _thee_ be my tribute

paid.

My right o'er the plain must thou own here, in knightly joust

thine hand

Hath won for mine own this charger; nor thy fame shall the

lower stand,

For he, whom thine hand o'erthrew here, the world with his

praises rung,

And with truth, unto this day's dawning, have men of his

glory sung; 680

But now he of God is stricken, and his joy hath an ending

found,

But _thou_, in his stead, I think me, with honour and fame

art crowned!'

Quoth Gawain, 'He first o'erthrew me, and I but that deed

repaid.

If tribute for joust be due here, by _him_ be that tribute

paid!

Look well on this mare, he won it, thou canst take it if such

thy will. 685

The charger that standeth by me, as mine own will I claim it

still--

Tho' never a steed be thy portion, on _that_ steed I hence

will go,

Thou speakest of _right_, wouldst thou take it, then first I

would have thee know

(Yea, thou thyself wilt own it) 'tis unfitting I take my way

Afoot, and right sore 'twould grieve me if that charger were

thine alway! 690

For to-day in the early morning it was _mine_ without doubt

or fear,

And childish thou art if thou thinkest thus lightly to win it

here!

'Twas Duke Orilus, the Burgundian, who gave me the steed of

old,

Which Urian stole this morning, and the tale thou for truth

shalt hold.

And the foal of a mule shalt thou win thee ere thy prize be

this steed of mine-- 695

Yet a fair gift in sooth will I give thee, for the _steed_

shall the _knight_ be thine,

Thou accountest him honour-worthy--if he say thee or yea or

nay,

And if well or ill it doth please him I abide by my word

alway!'

Then joyful I ween was the boatman, and with smiling lips he

spake,

'Now methinks that a gift so costly it hath ne'er been my lot

to take, 700

And I deem myself all unworthy--Yet, Sir Knight, be he mine

indeed,

Then the guerdon is more than I asked for and o'er my deserts

my meed.

For his praises they rang so clearly that five hundred steeds

all told,

Swift-footed and strong for battle, too low for his price

I'ld hold!

If a rich man thou thus wilt make me, then this thing shalt

thou do for me, 705

To my boat shalt thou captive bring him, that I hold him as

pledge from thee.'

King Lot's son he spake in answer, 'Yea this will I do, and

more,

To thy boat first, and then from out it will I lead him

within thy door,

And there will I yield him captive'--'And there will I

welcome thee!'

Spake the boatman, and low he bowed him, and thanks spake he

fair and free. 710

And he quoth, 'Dear my lord and master, if it please thee to

be my guest,

And abide in my house till the morning, then softly I'll bid

thee rest.

Nor won boatman e'er higher honour, and blest be the eventide

That seeth a knight so gallant 'neath the shade of my

roof-tree bide.'

Then out quoth Gawain, 'That will I, for in truth I had

prayed this grace, 715

For weary am I with battle, and fain would I rest a space.

She who to this sorrow led me, her sweetness she maketh sour,

And heart's joy shall be dear to purchase, and sorrow doth

crown each hour,

And the guerdon for this her service unlike to herself shall

be--

Alas! I had found a treasure, yet but loss hath it brought to

me! 720

And one breast thro' that loss now sinketh that awhile

swelled so proud and high,

When joy was from God my portion, for a heart did beneath it

lie.

Now I think me that heart hath vanished, and where shall I

comfort seek?

Shall I helpless abide that Frau Minne her wrath upon me

shall wreak?

Yea, had she the heart of a woman she would give me my joy

again 725

Who maketh her sweetness bitter, and turneth my bliss to

pain!'

Then the boatman he heard how he wrestled with sorrow, by

love constrained,

And he quoth, 'So is here the custom, in the forest as on the

plain,

As far as Klingsor ruleth, be he coward or valiant knight,

"Sad to day, to-morrow joyful," So it goeth for peace or

fight. 730

Perchance the truth thou knowst not? This land is a

wonder-land,

And ever by day and by night-time if good luck shall not aid

thine hand

Little good may thy manhood do thee! See thou how the sun

sinks low,

I think me, Sir Knight, it were better that we should to my

vessel go!'

Then Lischois he was led by Gawain, and never a word he

spake, 735

And the boatman he followed after and the steed by its rein

did take.

So sailed they across the water, and they came to the further

coast,

And the boatman he prayed Sir Gawain, 'Be thou in mine house

the host.'

And so rich was the house and stately, that scarce in King

Arthur's land,

E'en in Nantes that noble city, did a fairer dwelling stand. 740

And he led Lischois thro' the doorway, and he gave him unto

the care

Of the host and his folk--Then the boatman spake thus to his

daughter fair,

'Fair times and a goodly lodging be the lot of this noble

knight

Who standeth here, go thou with him, for I deem me it shall

be right,

And tend him as best shall seem thee, nor stint thou in aught

thy care, 745

For great good hath he brought unto us, and 'tis meet he thy

grace should share!'

To his son's care he gave the charger---Then the maiden her

sire's behest

Fulfilled as right well became her, for she led the noble

guest

To a chamber fair, where the flooring was hid 'neath a carpet

green

Of rushes and fresh-plucked blossoms, as the way of the land

had been. 750

There the gentle maid unarmed him--quoth Gawain, 'God show

grace to thee,

For had not thy sire thus bade thee too great were thy care

for me!'

And she quoth, 'For my father's bidding I do not this deed,

Sir Knight,

But rather that this my service may find favour before thy

sight.'

Then a squire, the host's son, must bear there soft cushions,

a goodly store, 755

And along the wall he laid them, and over against the door.

And a carpet he spread before them that Gawain he might seat

him there;

And as one who knew well his office a cushion so rich he

bare,

With a covering of crimson sendal, that down on the couch he

laid;

And a seat like unto the other for the host he beside it

made. 760

Came another squire and he carried fresh linen the board to

spread,

(For thus gave the host commandment,) and he bare with the

linen bread.

And the hostess she followed after, and she looked well upon

Gawain,

And she gave him a heartfelt greeting, and she spake, 'Now

such grace we gain

From thine hand we are rich henceforward as we never have

been before, 765

Sir Knight, sure our good luck waketh since such fortune it

hither bore!'

Then when they had brought him water, and the host sat beside

his guest,

With courteous mien Sir Gawain this prayer to his host

addrest,

'Now I pray let this maid eat with me,' 'Sir Knight, ne'er

was she allowed

To sit with knights, or eat with them, lest she wax of their

grace too proud. 770

And yet so much do we owe thee, loth were I to say thee nay.

So, daughter, sit thou beside him, and as he shall speak

obey!'

Then she blushed for shame all rosy, yet she did as her

father bade,

And down on the couch by Gawain sat Bené the gracious maid.

(And two stalwart sons had the boatman beside that maiden

sweet) 775

Three game-birds, I ween, that even were slain by the falcon

fleet,

And all three did they bear unto Gawain, and a broth with

herbs beside,

And the maiden she courteous served him as she sat by the

hero's side;

For she carved for him dainty morsels, and laid them on bread

so white

With her slender hands, and gently she spake to the stranger

knight, 780

'Wilt thou send a bird to my mother? for else hath she none,

I ween.'

Then gladly he told the maiden his will e'en as hers had been

In this thing as in all other--to the hostess the bird they

bare,

And they honoured the hand of the hero, nor the boatman his

thanks would spare.

Purslain and lettuce brought they, in vinegar steeped, I ween 785

Had he sought here his strength to nourish little good might

such food have been;

And if one should o'er-long feed on it then the colour it

waxeth pale,

Such pallor as truth betrayeth, if the mouth to its speaking

fail.

And if with false red it be hidden, it fadeth, and bringeth

shame,

But she who is true and steadfast she winneth the higher

fame. 790

If one by goodwill were nourished, then Gawain, he right well

had fed,

To her child naught the mother grudgeth, and as free gave the

host his bread.

Then they bare away the tables, and the hostess she bade him

rest,

And bedding I ween in plenty they brought for the gallant

guest.

And one was of down, and the covering above it of velvet

green, 795

Yet the velvet was none of the richest tho' fair had its

fashion been.

And a cushion must serve for cover, beneath it should Gawain

lie;

Nor the silk had with gold been purchased, 'twas won in far

Araby.

Of silk, too, the cunning stitching, and the linen was fair,

and white

As snow that they laid above it, and a pillow they brought

the knight. 800

And a cloak of her own she lent him, for wrapping, that

maiden fair,

'Twas new, and of ermine fashioned, and such as a prince

might wear.

Then leave the host courteous prayed him ere he laid himself

down to sleep,

And men say that alone with Sir Gawain the maiden her watch

did keep,

And I think if he more had prayed her she never had said him

Nay-- 805

Then he slept, for he well might slumber, God keep him till

dawn of day!

BOOK XI

ARNIVE

ARGUMENT

Book XI. tells how Gawain would brave the venture of the Château

Marveil, and how the boatman and his daughter strove to withhold

him.

How Gawain came to the Castle, and of the Lit Merveil and its

perils.

How Gawain slew the lion, and ended the enchantments of the

castle, and

how he was healed of his wounds by the Queen Arnivé.

BOOK XI

ARNIVE

Weary he closed his eyelids, and he slept in a slumber deep

Till the light of the early morning must waken him from his

sleep.

And many a window saw he within that chamber wall,

And clear glass was before each window--Thro' a doorway the

light did fall,

'Twas open, without was an orchard, thither gat him the

gallant knight 5

For the air, and the song-birds' music, and to see what might

meet his sight

And but little space had he sat there, when the castle he saw

again

As at eventide he saw it when he fought on the grassy plain.

And he saw from the hall of the palace full many a maiden

gaze,

And many were fair to look on; and he thought, with a great

amaze, 10

That a wondrous watch they must keep there, since they

wearied not thro' the night,

And little might they have slumbered, for as yet scarce had

dawned the light.

Then he thought, 'For the sake of these ladies will I lay me

to sleep once more.'

Then again to his couch he gat him, and for covering he drew

him o'er

The mantle the maid had lent him--Did no man his slumber

break? 15

Nay, sorely the host had vexed him, if one should his guest

awake.

Then of true heart bethought the maiden, who soft by her

mother lay,

And she roused her from out her slumber, and she took to the

guest her way,

And again he slept so sweetly--Then she thought her, that

gentle maid,

That fain would she do him service, and she sat her beside

his bed, 20

Fair was she, and sweet to look on, and but seldom at

eventide,

Or in hour of the early dawning, such venture has sought my

side!

Short space ere Gawain awakened and beheld how she watched

him there,

And he looked and he laughed upon her, 'God reward thee, thou

maiden fair,

That thou breakest for me thy slumber, on thyself dost thou

vengeance take, 25

Since nor service nor joust so knightly have I ridden for thy

sweet sake!'

And she answered, that gracious maiden, 'On thy service no

claim have I,

But look thou with favour on me, and thy will do I willingly,

And all who are with my father, yea, mother alike and child,

Do hail thee their lord and master, for love of thy dealings

mild!' 30

Then he quoth, 'Is it long since thou camest? Had I of thy

coming known

Fain would I have asked a question, perchance thou the truth

hadst shown:

Yestreen and again this morning fair ladies have looked on me

From a mighty tower, of thy goodness now tell me who may they

be?'

But the maiden she shrunk in terror, and she cried, 'Ask me

not, Sir Knight, 35

Since ne'er may I give an answer--I prithee to hear aright,

If I knew, yet I might not tell thee, nor do thou my silence

chide,

But ask thou what else shall please thee and my lips naught

from thee shall hide,

But on this thing alone keep silence, and follow thou what I

say!'

But Gawain, he would ever ask her, and ever an answer pray, 40

What ladies were they who sat there, and looked from that

stately hall?

And the maiden she wept full sorely, and aloud in her grief

did call.

'Twas yet in the early dawning, and her father he sought her

side,

Nor I deem me had he been wrathful if here did such chance

betide

That Gawain with the maid had striven, and had forced her

unto his will, 45

And the maiden, so fair and gentle, in such wise did she hold

her still,

For beside the couch was she seated--Then her father he

mildly spake,

'Now weep not so sore, my daughter, for if one a jest doth

make

Whereof thou at first art wrathful, yet I ween ere the time

be long,

Shall thy sorrow be changed to gladness, and thy wailing to

joyful song!' 50

Quoth Gawain, 'Nay, mine host, naught hath chanced here save

that which thine eye may see;

This maiden I fain would question, but naught would she tell

to me,

For she thinketh, 'tis my undoing, and silence hath she

implored:

But now if it shall not vex thee let my service here find

reward,

And tell me, mine host, if it please thee, how it stands with

those ladies there, 55

For I know not the place or the country where I looked on

such maidens fair,

So many there are, and their raiment showeth clear to my

wondering sight!'

Then the host wrung his hands for sorrow, and he spake, 'Ask

me not, Sir Knight,

In the name of God, ask no question--For wherever thy foot

shall speed,

Or whatever thine eyes shall light on, no need shall be like

their need!' 60

'Then soothly I'll mourn for their sorrow,' quoth Gawain,

'but mine host now say

Why vex thee so sore for my question? Thine answer why thus

delay?'

'Sir Knight, for thy manhood mourn I, if thou wilt not thy

question spare

Then strife sure shall be thy portion, and sorrow thine heart

shall bear.

And thy sorrow of joy shall rob us, myself and my children

three, 65

Who were born for thy gallant service true service to yield

to thee.'

Quoth Gawain, 'Yet for this thou shalt tell me, or if thou

still say me, Nay,

And I learn not from thee the story yet the truth will I know

alway!'

Then the host he spake out truly, 'Sir Knight, I must sorely

rue,

The question thou here dost ask me--Thou goest to strife

anew, 70

Arm thee well, and a shield I'll lend thee--In "Terre

Merveil" thou art,

And the "Lit Merveil" shall be here--And ne'er hath a

knightly heart

Withstood all the many dangers that in Château Merveil shall

be!

Turn aside, ere thy death o'ertake thee, for life should be

dear to thee!

For wherever thine hand shall have striven, or what ventures

soe'er it found 75

As child's play have been thy perils to those which beset

this ground!'

Quoth Gawain, 'Yet 'twould sorely vex me, if I, but to save

me pain,

Rode hence, doing naught, and those ladies had looked for

mine aid in vain.

Long since have I heard of this castle, and since it so near

doth stand

No man from the task shall bring me; to the venture I set my

hand!' 80

Then the host he did sore bemoan him, and he spake to his

guest so true,

'Now as naught is all other peril, what perils around thee

drew,

To the peril of this adventure, to its awe, and its anguish

dire,

And naught but the truth am I speaking, for no man ever spake

me liar!

But that gallant knight, Sir Gawain, for naught would he turn

aside, 85

But he quoth, 'Now mine host give counsel how the strife I

may best abide,

If thy words be the words of wisdom, and God give me the

strength thereto,

Thy will and thy rede I'll follow, and knightly the deeds

I'll do!

Sir Host, of a sooth it were ill done, did I fail here a blow

to strike,

And coward should I be accounted of foeman and friend alike.' 90

Then first did the host bemoan him, such sorrow he ne'er

might know,

And he quoth to his guest, 'If it may be that Heaven such

grace shall show

That death be not here thy portion, then this land unto thee

shall fall.

And the stake is full many a maiden fast bound in a magic

thrall,

No man ere this day hath freed them--And with them many noble

knights 95

Shall lie as yet imprisoned; and if thou with hand of might

Shall loose them, thou winnest glory, and God showeth grace

to thee,

And joyful, o'er light and beauty, king and ruler thou sure

shalt be!

And maidens from many a country shall honour thee as their

king.

Nor think, if thou now dost ride hence, such deed shame on

thee should bring, 100

Since on this field Lischois Giwellius hath yielded him to

thine hand,

And left unto thee his honour; who erstwhile in every land

Hath done gallant deeds of knighthood, of right may I praise

his name,

No knight showed a higher courage, or won him a fairer fame.

And in no heart the root of virtue it showeth such fair

increase 105

In blossom and flower of God's planting, save in Ither of

Gaheviess!'

'And he who at Nantes slew Prince Ither my ship bare but

yesterday,

Five steeds hath he given unto me, (God keep him in peace

alway,)

Princes and kings once rode them, but now they afar must

fare,

And tidings of him who o'erthrew them must they carry to

Pelrapär. 110

For thus have they sworn the victor--His shield telleth many

a tale

Of jousting so fair and knightly--He rode hence to seek the

Grail!'

Quoth Gawain, 'Say, whence came he hither? Mine host, since

he rode so near,

Knew he naught of the wondrous venture? Or did he the marvel

hear?'

'Sir Knight, ne'er a word hath he heard here, I guarded me

all too well, 115

Lest unseemly my deed be reckoned if unasked I the tale

should tell.

And hadst thou thyself not asked me thou never from me hadst

known

The venture that here awaits thee, wrought of terror and pain

alone.

If thou wilt not forego this peril, and thy life shall the

forfeit pay,

Then never a greater sorrow have we known than we know

to-day. 120

But if thou shalt here be victor, and over this land shalt

reign,

Then my poverty hath an ending, and my loss shall be turned

to gain;

Such trust in thy free hand have I, I shall joy without

sorrow know

If thy glory here winneth glory, and thy body be not laid

low!'

'Now arm thee for deadly warfare!'--unarmed was as yet

Gawain, 125

'Now I prithee bring here my harness!' and the host to his

will was fain.

And from head to foot she armed him, the maiden fair and

tall,

And her father he sought the charger--Now a shield hung upon

the wall,

And the wood it was tough and well hardened, (else Gawain

ne'er this tale might tell,)

And the shield and the horse were brought him--and the host

he bethought him well; 130

And, as once more he stood before him, he spake, 'List thou

well, Sir Knight,

I will tell thee how thou shalt bear thee, and guard thee thy

life in fight:'

'My shield shalt thou carry with thee! Of war shall it bear

no trace

For but seldom I strive in battle, nor I count it me as

disgrace.

When thou comest, Sir Knight, to the castle, do this, it

shall serve thy steed: 135

At the doorway a merchant sitteth, buy of him that which thou

shalt need,

Then give him thy steed, he will hold it, nor care thou what

thou shalt buy,

As a pledge will he hold thy charger, and will give it thee

joyfully

If unhurt from the Burg thou comest!' Quoth Gawain, 'Say,

shall I not ride?'

'Nay, nay, for sore peril neareth, and the maidens their

faces hide!' 140

'Thou shalt find that fair palace lonely, deserted by great

and small,

And no token of living creature shalt thou see in that

stately hall.

And may God's grace watch o'er thy footsteps, and His

blessing go with thine hand

When thou comest into the chamber where the "Lit Merveil"

shall stand.

And the couch, and the rollers beneath it, in Morocco they

first were made 145

For the Ruler of all the Faithful; and were it in the balance

weighed

'Gainst all treasures of crown and kingdom it still would

outweigh them all.

And I wot, there shall ill o'ertake thee, and God knoweth

what shall befall,

But I pray that the end be joyful! Yet hearken, Sir Knight,

to me,

This sword and this shield that thou holdest, in thine hand

must they ever be, 150

For surely when thou shalt think thee that the peril hath

done its worst,

Then _first_ mayst thou look for conflict, and _then_ shall

the storm-cloudburst!'

Then mournful I ween was the maiden, as Gawain to the saddle

sprung,

And all they who stood around her they wept and their hands

they wrung,

Then he quoth to his host, 'God grant me that hereafter I may

repay 115

The care and the kindly counsel I have won from thy lips

to-day.'

Then leave did he pray of the maiden, and her sorrow was sore

to see,

He rode hence, and they whom he left here they mourned for

him bitterly.

And now, if ye fain would hearken what unto Gawain befell,

The tale of his wondrous venture right gladly to ye I'll

tell. 160

And in this wise I heard the story--As he came to the castle

gate,

A merchant with merchandise costly without did his coming

wait.

And so rich were his wares, and precious, that in sooth I

were glad at heart

If I, in so great a treasure, my portion might bear and part.

Then, Sir Gawain, he sprang from his charger, for ne'er had

he seen before 165

Outspread in the open market such goods as were here in

store.

And the booth was of velvet fashioned, four-square, and both

wide and high,

And that which lay there for purchase no monarch might

lightly buy.

The Baruch of Bagdad scarcely had paid that which lay

therein;

Nor the Patriarch of Rankulat might think him such prize to

win. 170

Yea, and great as shall be the treasure that was found but

awhile ago

In the land of the Greeks yet their Emperor such riches might

hardly know!

And e'en if these twain had helped him the price he had

failed to pay

That a man must count for the treasure that here before

Gawain lay.

Then the knight greeted well the merchant as he looked on the

wondrous store 175

Of marvels that lay before him, but he stayed not to turn it

o'er,

But bade him show clasp and girdle; then he quoth to the hero

bold,

'For many a year have I sat here, yet no man doth my wares

behold;

None but ladies have looked upon them! yet if manhood shall

nerve thine hand

Of all here shalt thou be the master; they were brought from

a distant land, 180

If here thou shalt be the victor, (for in sooth hast thou

come for fight,)

And the venture shall well betide thee, I will deal with thee

well, Sir Knight!

For all that my booth containeth is thine if thou win the

day!

So trust thou in God and His mercy, and take to the Burg thy

way.

Plippalinòt in sooth hath sent thee, and thy coming well

praised shall be 185

Of many a gracious maiden if thy prowess shall set her free!'

'Now wouldst thou withstand this venture leave here for

awhile thy steed,

If thou trust it unto my keeping, I will give to the charge

good heed.'

Quoth Gawain, 'Yea, I'll gladly do so, if unseemly be not the

task,

Too greatly I fear thy riches such grace from thine hand to

ask, 190

For ne'er since I rode upon it such keeper my steed hath

known'--

Out quoth the merchant freely, 'Sir Knight, all shall be

thine own,

Myself, and the wares I guard here, (nor further of them I'll

speak,)

They are his, who in safety faceth the danger thou here dost

seek!'

And so bold was I ween the hero that on foot did he go

straightway, 195

Undaunted, to face the peril untold that before him lay.

And, as I before have told ye, the Burg it stood high and

wide,

And its bulwarks so stoutly builded did guard it on either

side.

If for thirty years they stormed it, not a berry or leaf

would yield,

However the foe might threaten; in the midst was a grassy

field, 200

(Yet the Lechfeld I ween is longer,) many turrets they

towered on high,

And the story it tells that Gawain, as the palace he did

espy,

Saw the roof shine all many-coloured, as peacock's plumes its

glow,

And so bright it was that its glory was dimmed nor by rain

nor snow.

And within was it richly furnished, and decked to delight the

eye, 205

And the pillars were richly carven, and the windows were

arched on high,

And many a fair couch costly had they set there against the

wall,

Nor touched they the one to the other, and rich covers lay

over all.

And but now had the maidens sat there, but each one had taken

thought,

And no one of them all remained there, and of welcome Gawain

found naught. 210

Yet their joy came again with his coming, and the day of

their bliss was he,

And 'twere well they had looked upon him, none fairer their

eyes might see.

Yet none there might dare behold him, tho' to serve them he

aye was fain,

And yet in this thing were they guiltless--Thro' the palace

strode knight Gawain,

And he looked on this side and the other, and he sought well

the chamber o'er, 215

If to left or to right I know not, but he saw there an open

door,

And wherever that door might lead him the hero was fain to

go,

If high fame he might gain for his seeking, or die there a

death of woe!

So stepped he within the chamber, and behold! the shining

floor,

As glass it lay smooth beneath him, and the Lit-Merveil he

saw, 220

The wonder-couch; and beneath it four rollers as crystal

clear,

And fashioned of fire-red rubies: as the swift wind afar and

near

Did it speed o'er the shining pavement, no floor might fairer

be,

Chrysolite, sardius, jasper, inwrought there the eye might

see.

For so had Klingsor willed it, and the thought it was his

alone, 225

From far-off lands his magic had brought to the Burg each

stone.

So smooth 'neath his feet the pavement, scarce might be his

footing hold,

Then fain would he seek the venture, but, so is the marvel

told,

As ever he stood before it the couch from its station fled,

And swift as the winds of heaven o'er the glittering floor it

sped. 230

(And Gawain he found all too heavy the shield that his hand

gripped fast,

And yet did his host give counsel it should ne'er on one side

be cast.)

Thought Gawain, 'Now, how may I reach thee, since still thou

dost fly from me?

Methinks thou shalt have a lesson, it may be I may spring to

thee!'

Then still stood the couch before him, and straight from the

ground he leapt 235

And stood firm in the midst of the marvel, and again o'er the

floor it swept,

And hither and thither turning in the four walls its goal it

found,

And blow upon blow fell swiftly, till the Burg echoed back

the sound.

And many a charge did he ride there, with crash, as of

thunder-cloud,

Or as trumpeters blow together when their blasts thro' the

hall ring loud, 240

And the one vieth with the other, and each for a fair prize

blows.

Less loud should have been their tumult than the tumult that

there arose!

And waken and watch must Sir Gawain, altho' on a bed he lay.

How best might the hero guard him? The noise he was fain to

stay,

And his head with his shield he covered--There he lay, and

would wait His will 245

Who hath help in His power, and helpeth all those who entreat

Him still,

And shutteth His ear to no man who in sorrow for aid doth

pray.

And the man who is wise and steadfast, as dawneth his

sorrow's day,

Doth call on the hand of the Highest, that shall ne'er be too

short to reach,

And the aid that shall meet their lacking He sendeth to all

and each. 250

And so was it now with Gawain--Thro' Whose grace he had

gotten fame,

He called on His power and His mercy to shelter him here from

shame.

Then stilled for a space the clamour--The couch stood within

the hall,

And an equal space had they measured from its station to

either wall.

Yet now waxed his peril greater, for five hundred missiles,

swung 255

With craft from hands yet hidden, were against Sir Gawain

flung.

And they fell on the couch as he lay there; but the shield it

was hard and new,

And it sheltered him well, and I think me of the blows did he

feel but few.

And the stones were as river pebbles, so heavy, and hard, and

round,

And in many a place on the surface of the shield might their

trace be found. 260

At length was the stone-shower ended, and never before he

knew

Such sharp and such heavy missiles as those which toward him

flew.

For now full five hundred cross-bows were bended, their bolts

they sped,

And each one was aimed at the hero as he lay on the

Wonder-Bed.

(And he who hath faced such peril in sooth he of darts may

tell:) 265

Yet their wrath was soon spent, and silence for awhile on the

chamber fell.

And he who would seek for comfort he ne'er on such couch

should lie!

Little solace or rest may he find there, but peace from his

face shall fly!

And youth would wax grey and agèd, if such comfort should be

its share

As fell to the lot of Gawain, when he lay on that couch so

fair. 270

Yet nor weariness nor terror had weakened or hand or heart,

Tho' the stones and the bolts of the cross-bow had done on

his limbs their part,

And spite of both shield and corslet, sore bruisèd and cut

was he:

And he thought that, this peril ended, the venture should

ended be--

But yet with his hand must he battle, and the prize of the

victor win, 275

For a doorway e'en now flew open, and one trode the hall

within;

And the man was a mighty peasant, and fearful of face, and

grim,

And the hide of the grey sea-otter was his covering on head

and limb,

And his hosen were wide, and he carried a club in his strong

right hand,

And 'twas thicker I ween than a pitcher that round-bellied

doth firmly stand. 280

So came he unto Sir Gawain, (and his coming it pleased him

ill,)

Yet he thought, 'He doth bear no harness, mine arms shall

withstand him still,'

Upright on the couch he sat him, as nor terror nor pain he

knew,

And the peasant, as he would flee him, a space from the bed

withdrew,

And he cried in a voice so wrathful, 'From _me_ hast thou

naught to fear, 285

Yet such peril I'll loose upon thee that thy life must thou

buy full dear;

The devil himself doth aid thee, else wert thou not still in

life,

Bethink thee, for death cometh swiftly, and the ending of all

thy strife,

No more can the devil shield thee, that I tell thee ere hence

I pass!'

Then he gat him once more thro' the doorway, and Gawain

gripped his sword-hilt fast, 290

And the shafts did he smite asunder of the arrows that thro'

his shield

Had passed, and had pierced his armour, nor yet to his hand

would yield.

Then a roar, as of mighty thunder, on the ear of Gawain did

fall,

As when twenty drums were sounding to dance in the castle

hall.

Then the hero, so firm and dauntless, whose courage ne'er

felt the smart 295

Of the wounds that cowardice pierceth, thought thus in his

steadfast heart:

'What evil shall now befall me? Must I yet more sorrow know?

For sorrow enow have I seen here, yet here will I face my

foe!'

He looked toward the peasant's doorway, and a mighty lion

sprang thro',

And its size was e'en that of a warhorse, and straight on

Gawain it flew. 300

But Gawain he was loth to fly here, and his shield he held

fast before,

As best for defence should serve him, and he sprang down upon

the floor.

And the lion was hunger-ravening, yet little should find for

food,

Tho' raging it sprang on the hero, who bravely its rush

withstood.

The shield it had near torn from him, with the first grip its

talons fierce 305

It drave thro' the wood, such hardness but seldom a beast may

pierce.

Yet Gawain did right well defend him, his sword-blade aloft

he swung,

And on three feet the beast must hold him, while the fourth

from the shield yet hung.

And the blood gushed forth on the pavement, and Gawain he

firmer stood,

And the fight raged hither and thither, as the lion, on the

hero good, 310

Sprang ever with snorting nostrils, and gleaming fangs and

white--

And if on such food they had reared it, that its meat was a

gallant knight,

_I_ had cared not to sit beside it! Nor such custom pleased

Gawain well,

Who for life or for death must fight it--and the strife ever

fiercer fell.

So sorely the beast was wounded, the chamber with blood ran

o'er; 315

Fierce sprang the lion upon Gawain, and would bear him unto

the floor,

But Gawain a sword-thrust dealt him, thro' the heart the

swift blade sped

Till his hand smote full on the breast-bone, and the lion at

his feet fell dead.

And now all the deadly peril and the conflict was over-past--

In the same hour Gawain bethought him, 'Where now shall my

lot be cast? 320

Since to sit in this blood I like not, and I must of the

couch beware,

For it runneth a race so frantic 'twere foolish to sit me

there!'

But yet was his head so deafened with the blows that upon him

fell,

And many his wounds, and the life-blood did forth from its

fountains well,

And his strength waxed faint, and it left him, and he fell on

the chamber floor; 325

His head lay on the lion's body, and the shield might he hold

no more.

And if wisdom and power were his portion, of the twain was he

reft I ween,

And tho' fair was the Burg, yet within it full rough had his

handling been.

His senses forsook him wholly--no such pillow I ween was his

As that which on Mount Ribbelé Gymele gave to Kahenis; 330

Both fair and wise was the maiden--and his honour he slept

away--

But here honour ran swift-footed to Gawain as he prostrate

lay.

For in sooth ye shall well have hearkened, and shall know how

such chance befell,

That thus lay the hero lifeless, from the first have ye heard

it well.

Then in secret one looked upon him, and the chamber with

blood was red, 335

And the lion alike and the hero they lay as the twain were

dead.

'Twas a fair and gracious maiden who saw thro' a loop-hole

high,

And her face it grew wan, and the colour from her lips and

her cheek must fly.

And youth was so heavy-hearted that old age sore must mourn

her tale.

Yet Arnivé was wise, and her wisdom did here o'er the woe

prevail, 340

And still for this deed must I praise her, she drew near to

aid Gawain,

And from peril of death she freed him who freedom for her

would gain.

Then herself she was fain to behold him, and they gazed thro'

the window small,

And naught might they tell, those women, of what waited them

in the hall.

Was it news of a joyful future? Or of woe that should last

for aye? 345

And the queen's heart it sore misgave her that the hero had

died that day,

(And the thought brought her grief and sorrow,) since he

sought him no better bed,

But silent he lay, and rested on the corse of the lion his

head.

And she spake, 'From my heart I mourn thee, if thy manhood so

true and brave

Hath won thee no better guerdon, and thy life thou hast

failed to save. 350

If death here hath been thy portion for our sake, who shall

strangers be,

And thy truth to such fate hath brought thee, then for ever

I'll mourn for thee.

And thy virtue I'll praise, tho' the counting of thy years I

may never know!'

And she spake to the weeping women, as they looked on the

knight laid low,

'Ye maids who shall be baptizèd, and by water have won a

place 355

In God's kingdom, pray ye unto Him, that He show to this hero

grace!'

Then she sent below two maidens, and she bade them to seek

Gawain,

And softly draw nigh unto him, nor pass from his side again

Till they brought her full assurance how it went with the

gallant knight,

If perchance he should yet be living, or had found his death

in fight. 360

So she gave to the twain commandment--Did they weep those

maidens fair?

Yea, both must weep full sorely for the grief that was here

their share,

When they found the hero lying, for his wounds they ran with

blood

Till the shield in blood was swimming--then they bent o'er

the hero good,

And with gentle hand the helmet one loosened from off his

head, 365

And she saw a light foam gathered upon his lips so red,

And she waited a space and hearkened, if perchance she might

hear his breath,

For but now had she thought him living, yet she deemed it

might well be death.

And his over-dress was of sable, and the mystic beasts it

bore,

Such as Ilinot the Breton as his badge with great honour

wore. 370

(And courage and fame were his portion from his youth till

his dying day.)

From the coat with her ready fingers the sable she tore away,

And she held it before his nostrils, for thus might she

better know

If yet he should live, since his breathing would stir the

hair to and fro.

And the breath was yet there, and straightway she bade her

companion bring 375

Fair water, the gentle maiden did swift on her errand spring.

Then the maid placed her ring so golden betwixt his teeth

closed fast,

And deft was her hand in the doing, and between his lips she

passed,

Drop by drop, e'en as he might take it, the water, and little

space

Ere he lifted once more his eyelids, and he looked on the

maiden's face. 380

And he thanked them, those two sweet children, and offered

them service meet--

Alas! that ye here should find me, unseemly laid at your

feet!

If ye will on this chance keep silence, for good will I count

the deed,

And courtesy shall ye honour if ye give to my words good

heed!'

Quoth the maid, 'Thou hast lain, and thou liest, as one who

the prize doth hold, 385

In sooth thou art here the victor and in joy shall thy life

wax old,

To-day is thy day of triumph! But comfort us now I pray,

Is it so with thy wounds that, naught fearing, we may joy in

thy joy to-day?'

Then he quoth, 'Would ye see me living, then help shall ye

bring to me.'

And he prayed of those gracious maidens that a leech to his

wounds should see, 390

Or one who was skilled in healing, 'But if yet I must face

the strife,

Go ye hence, give me here my helmet, and gladly I'll guard my

life!'

But they spake, 'Nay, the strife is over, Sir Knight, send us

not away,

Yet one shall go, and the guerdon of messenger win

straightway.

To the four queens shall she betake her, and shall say that

thou livest still, 395

And a chamber shall they prepare thee, and leechcraft with

right goodwill,

And with salves shall thy wounds be tended, and so mild shall

their working be

That thy pain shall be swiftly lessened, and healing be

brought to thee!'

Then one of the maids sprang swiftly, and she ran with no

halting tread,

With the news that the knight was living straightway to the

court she sped. 400

'In sooth shall he be so living, if ever it be God's will,

Rich in joy may we be henceforward and glad without fear of

ill,

For naught but good help he needeth,' 'Dieu Merci!' then

quoth they all.

Then the old queen wise her maidens did straightway around

her call,

And she bade them a bed prepare him, and a carpet she spread

before, 405

And a fire on the hearth burnt brightly, and precious the

salves they bore.

And the queen with wisdom mixed them for the healing of cut

or bruise.

In that hour from among her women four maids did Arnivé

choose,

And she bade them disarm the hero, and his harness bear soft

away,

And with wisdom should they deal with him lest he feel

himself shamed alway. 410

'A silk shall ye bear about ye, in its shadow the knight

disarm,

If yet he can walk he may do so, if else, bear him in your

arms

To where I by the bed await him, for his couch will I rightly

care,

If the strife in such wise hath fallen that no deadly wound

he bear,

Then I think me I soon may heal him, but if wounded he be to

death 415

Then cloven our joy--with the hero are we slain tho' we yet

draw breath!'

And all this was done as she bade them, disarmed was the

knight Gawain,

Then they led him where help they gave him who well knew to

ease his pain.

And of wounds did they find full fifty, or perchance they

were even more,

But the darts had not pierced too deeply since ever his

shield he bore. 420

Then the queen in her wisdom took her warm wine, and a sendal

blue,

And Dictam, the herb of healing, and she wiped with her hand

so true

The blood from his wounds, and she closed them, and the flow

of the life-blood stayed.

And wherever his helm was indented the stones on his head had

made

Sore bruises, yet they must vanish 'fore the salves and their

healing power, 425

And the master-skill of Arnivé who tended him in that hour!

And she quoth, 'Ease I well may give thee, whiles Kondrie

doth come to me,

And all help that may be in leechcraft of her friendship she

telleth free.

Since Anfortas so sore doth suffer, and they seek aid from

far and near,

This salve shall from death have kept him, from Monsalväsch

'twas brought me here.' 430

When Gawain heard she spake of Monsalväsch, then in sooth was

he glad at heart,

For he deemed it was near--Then this hero, who ne'er had in

falsehood part,

Spake thus to the queen, 'Now, Lady, my senses that far were

fled,

Hast thou won back again, and mine anguish I ween hast thou

minishèd,

What of strength shall be mine, or of wisdom, I owe to thine

hand alone, 435

Thy servant am I!' But the queen spake, 'Sir Knight, thou

such faith hast shown

That we all must rejoice in thy welfare, and strive for it

faithfully.

But follow my rede, nor speak much, a root will I give to

thee

That shall win thee refreshing slumber, thou shalt care not

for drink or meat

Till the night, then such food I'll bring thee thou shalt

need not ere morn to eat.' 440

Then a root 'twixt his lips she laid there, and straightway

he fell asleep,

And throughout the day he slumbered, and in coverings they

happed him deep.

Rich in honour and poor in shaming, soft and warm, there in

peace he lay,

Yet he sneezed, and at whiles he shivered, for the salve

wrought on him alway.

And a company of fair women passed within and without the

door, 445

And fair was the light of their faces, and stately the mien

they bore.

And she bade them, the Queen Arnivé, that silence they all

should keep,

None should call, and no maiden answer, so long as the knight

should sleep.

And she bade them fast close the palace, nor burger, nor

squire, nor knight,

Should hear what had there befallen till the dawn of the

morning light. 450

But new sorrow drew nigh to the women--The knight slept till

even grey,

Then Arnivé the queen in her wisdom drew the root from his

lips away.

And straightway he woke, and he thirsted, and they brought

him of drink and meat,

And he raised himself and, rejoicing, as they brought him so

would he eat:

And many a maid stood before him, such fair service he ne'er

had known, 455

So courteous their mien and bearing--then he looked at them

one by one

And he gazed at each and the other, yet still his desire was

set

On the lady Orgelusé, for ne'er saw he woman yet,

In all the days of his lifetime, who so near to his heart did

lie;

Tho' many his prayer had hearkened, and _some_ did their love

deny! 460

Then out spake the gallant hero to Arnivé, his leech so wise,

'Lady, 'twill ill beseem me, nor deal I in courteous guise,

If these ladies stand here before me, I would they might

seated be,

Or if such be thy will it were better shouldst thou bid them

to eat with me!'

'Nay, Sir Knight, none I ween may sit here save I, the queen,

alone, 465

And shamed would they surely hold them were such service not

gladly done,

For our joy shalt thou be; yet I think me that if this be thy

will indeed,

Whate'er shall be thy commandment, we will give to thy words

good heed.'

But nobly born were those ladies, and their courtesy did they

show,

For all with one voice they prayed him he would e'en let the

thing be so, 470

And while he should eat they would stand there; so waited

they on the guest

And passed hence when the meal was ended and Gawain was laid

to rest.

BOOK XII

EIDEGAST

ARGUMENT

In Book XII. the poet recounts the valiant deeds done by Gawain's

kinsmen for love's sake, and how they were as naught to the

perils

dared by Gawain.

Of the watch-tower in the castle, and the magic pillar, and how

Gawain

beheld the coming of Orgelusé and her knight.

How Gawain fought with and overcame the Turkowit, and how he was

urged by Orgelusé's mockery to the venture of the Perilous Ford.

How he plucked a bough from a tree guarded by King Gramoflanz,

and

was challenged by that monarch to single combat. Of the

repentance

of Orgelusé, and her reconciliation with Gawain, and how both

were

welcomed by the dwellers in Château Merveil. How Gawain secretly

sent a

squire to the court of King Arthur bidding him, his knights and

ladies,

to Ioflanz to witness the combat between Gawain and Gramoflanz.

BOOK XII

EIDEGAST

Now he who his rest had broken, if rest he perchance might

win,

Methinks they who hear the story had counted it him for sin.

For, e'en as the venture telleth, sore toil had the hero

known,

And in sooth did he face such peril that his fame thro' all

lands hath flown.

Lancelot on the sword-bridge battled, and Meljakanz must sue

for grace, 5

Yet as naught was I ween his danger to the woe that Gawain

must face.

And that which is told of Garel, the valiant and knightly

king,

Who o'erthrew the lion 'fore the palace and made Nantes with

his daring ring--

And he sought the knife too, Garel, but he paid for his deed

full dear

In the pillar of marble--greater was the venture ye read of

here! 10

For the darts that were shot against Gawain, as his manly

courage bade,

For a mule were too great a burden if they all on its back

were laid!

The Perilous Ford hath its dangers; and Erec must sorrow

know,

When for Schoie-de-la-kurt he battled, and Mabonagrein would

fain lay low,

Yet ne'er had he faced such peril as fell here to knight

Gawain. 15

Nor Iwein, the gallant hero, who water would pour amain,

Nor feared of the stone the venture--Were these perils all

knit in one,

He who knoweth to measure danger saith Gawain greater deeds

had done!

What peril is this I tell of? If ye will, I the woe will

name,

Or too early perchance the telling? Swift-foot Orgelusé came, 20

And straight to the heart of the hero hath she taken her

silent way,

That heart that hath ne'er known trembling, that courage hath

ruled alway.

And how came it so stately lady might hide in so small a

space?

For narrow I ween was the pathway that led to her

resting-place.

And all sorrow he knew aforetime was as nought to this bitter

woe, 25

And a low wall it was that hid her when his heart did her

presence know

In whose service he never faltered, but was watchful as he

was true.

Nor find ye here food for laughter, that one who ne'er terror

knew,

A hero so brave in battle, should yield to a woman's hand.

Alas! woe is me for the marvel that no man may understand! 30

And Frau Minne she waxeth wrathful 'gainst him who the prize

hath won,

Yet dauntless and brave hath she found him, and shall find

him, till life be done.

Who harm on a wounded foeman shall work doth his honour

stain,

Yet in strength 'gainst his will did Love bind him, and it

turnèd to him for gain.

Frau Minne, wouldst have men praise thee? Then this will I

say to thee, 35

This strife shall be not to thine honour, since sore wounded

Gawain shall be.

And ever throughout his life-days has he lived as thou didst

command,

And he followed in this his father, and the men of his

mother's land.

For they yielded thee loyal service since the days Mazadan

was king,

Who Terre-de-la-Schoie from Fay-Morgan in thy service did

gallant bring. 40

And this do men tell of his children, no man from his fealty

fell.

And Ither of Gaheviess bare it, thy badge, and he served thee

well;

And never in woman's presence did one speak of the hero's

name

But their hearts yearned in love towards him, and they spake

it, nor thought it shame,

How then when they looked upon him? Then the tale first was

told aright! 45

Frau Minne, a faithful servant didst thou lose in that

gallant knight!

Slay Gawain if thou wilt, as his cousin Ilinot by thine hand

was slain,

Since thy power with the bitter torment of desire did the

knight constrain,

Till he strove for the love of his lady all the days of his

fair young life,

Florie of Kanedig was she, and he served her in many a

strife. 50

And he fled from the land of his fathers in the days of his

youth's unrest,

And was reared by this queen, and Britain ne'er saw him but

as a guest.

And the burden of Love weighed on him, and from Florie's land

he fled,

Till the day that in true love's service, as I told ye, men

found him dead.

And often the kin of Gawain thro' love have known sorrow

sore, 55

And of those by Frau Minne wounded could I name to ye many

more.

And why did the snow and the blood-drops move Parzival's

faithful heart?

'Twas his _wife_ wrought the spell, I think me! Yea, others

have known thine art,

Galoes and Gamuret hast thou vanquished, and in sooth hast

thou laid them low,

And the twain for their true love's guerdon must the death of

a hero know. 60

And Itonjé, Gawain's fair sister, must love Gramoflanz the

king,

And grieve for her love; and sorrow, Frau Minne, thou once

didst bring

On fair Surdamur and her lover: since thou sufferest not

Gawain's kin

To seek them another service, so on him wouldst thou honour

win!

Be mighty towards the mighty but here let Gawain go free, 65

His wounds they so sorely pain him, and the hale should thy

foemen be!

But many have sung of love's working who never so knew love's

power,

For myself, I would hold me silent--But true lovers shall

mourn this hour

What chanced unto him of Norway, for the venture he faced

right well,

And now, without help or warning, love's tempest upon him

fell! 70

Quoth the hero, 'Alas, for restless my resting-place shall

be,

One couch did so sorely wound me, and the other hath brought

to me

Sore torment of love and longing! Orgelusé must favour show

Unto me her true knight and servant, or small joy shall my

life-days know!'

As unresting he turned, and he stretched him, the bands from

his wounds were torn, 75

So restless he lay and wakeful awaited the coming morn.

And at last the day shone on him, and many a battlefield

And sword-strife more rest had brought him than the rest

which his couch might yield.

Would one liken his woe unto Gawain's, and be e'en such a

lover true,

Of his love-wounds let him be healèd, and then smitten by

darts anew, 80

And methinks he shall find that the sorrow and torment shall

vex him more

Than all the sum of the sorrow he hath borne for love's sake

before!

Nor love's torments alone vexed Gawain--Ever clearer it grew,

the light,

Till dark seemed the lofty tapers that erstwhile had shone so

bright.

Then up sprang from his couch the hero, and as blood, and as

iron, red 85

With wounds, and with rust, was his linen, yet beside him he

saw outspread

Hosen and shirt of woollen, and the change pleased our hero

well,

And robes lined with fur of the marten, and a garment that

o'er them fell,

(In Arras its stuff was woven, and from Arras 'twas hither

sent,)

And boots had they lain beside it, none too narrow for his

content. 90

In these garments anew he clothed him, and forth from the

chamber went

Gawain, and hither and thither his steps thro' the palace

bent,

Till he found the hall of his venture, no riches he e'er had

known

To liken unto the glories within this fair castle shown.

And there at one side of the palace a narrow dome he found, 95

And it rose high above the building, and a staircase within

it wound,

And above stood a shining pillar; nor of wood was it shapen

fair,

But so large and so strong that the coffin of Kamilla it well

might bear.

And Klingsor, the wise, he brought it from the kingdom of

Feirefis,

And his cunning and skill had fashioned both the hall and the

stair I wis! 100

No tent might so round be fashioned; did the Master Geometras

will

To raise such a work he had failèd, for unknown to his hand

the skill.

'Twas magic alone that wrought it--The venture it bids us

know

Of diamond, amethyst, topaz, carbuncle with red-fire glow,

Of chrysolite, emerald, ruby, and sardius, the windows tall, 105

That each one like to the other encircled this wondrous hall.

And rich as the window columns, and carven, the roof

o'erhead,

And herein was a greater marvel than all marvels ye yet have

read;

For, the vault below, no pillar was like to that column fair

That stood in the midst of the circle, and wondrous the power

it bare, 110

For so the venture telleth--Gawain fain would gaze around,

And alone did he climb the watch-tower, and precious the

jewels he found.

And he saw there a greater wonder, and the sight never vexed

his eye,

For he thought him upon the column all the lands of the earth

did lie.

And he saw the countries circle, and the mighty mountains'

crest 115

Meet, e'en as two hosts in battle, as one vision the other

pressed.

And folk did he see in the pillar, and on horse or afoot they

went,

They ran, and they stood: in a window he sat him on seeing

bent.

Came the agèd Queen Arnivé, with Sangivé her child, and there

Were two maidens, the gentle daughters that Sangivé erewhile

did bear. 120

And the four queens they came unto Gawain, and he saw them

and sprang upright;

And thus quoth the Queen Arnivé, 'Methinks thou shouldst

sleep, Sir Knight,

For though rest may no longer please thee, thou art wounded

too sore, I trow,

That thou further toil and labour shouldst yet for a season

know!'

Quoth the knight, 'Lady mine and my mistress, since thy

wisdom hath brought to me 125

My wit, and my strength, all my lifetime thy servant I fain

would be!'

Quoth the queen, 'If I so may read them, the words thou didst

speak but now,

And thou ownest me as thy mistress, then Sir Knight, to my

bidding bow,

And kiss at my will these ladies, as thou mayest, without

thought of shame,

Since nor mother nor maid before thee but a kingly birth may

claim!' 130

Then glad was Gawain at her bidding, and he kissed those

ladies three,

And Sangivé was first, then Itonjé, and the third was the

fair Kondrie.

And the five sat them down together, and Gawain saw those

maidens twain,

Their face and their form so gracious, and he looked, and he

looked again;

Yet one woman so worked upon him, for yet in his heart she

lay, 135

That their beauty by Orgelusé's he deemed but a cloudy day.

For he held with the Lady of Logrois none other might well

compare,

And his heart and his thoughts were captive to this lady so

sweet and fair.

Now 'twas done, and Gawain had been greeted with a kiss by

those ladies three,

And so fair were they all that I wot well their beauty would

fatal be 140

To a heart that was yet unwounded--Then he spake to the elder

queen,

And he prayed her to tell of the pillar, and the marvels he

there had seen.

Quoth Arnivé, 'By day and by night-time that pillar, I ween,

doth throw

Its light for six miles around it, so long as its power I

know.

And all that within that circuit doth chance on its face we

see, 145

In water, or on the meadow, and true shall the vision be.

The bird and the beast we see here, the guest and the woodman

true,

He who to this land is a stranger, or its ways of aforetime

knew.

Yea, all may we find within it, and it shineth for six miles

round;

And so fast and so firm it standeth none moveth it from the

ground, 150

And no hammer shall ever harm it, and no smith hath, I ween,

the skill.

'Twas stolen from Queen Sekundillé, I think me, against her

will!'

Now Gawain he saw at this moment on the column a goodly pair,

A knight with a lady riding, and he thought him the maid was

fair,

And clearly and well he saw them--and armed were both steed

and knight, 155

And his helmet was plumed and jewelled, and it gleamed in the

morning light.

And they rode at a hasty gallop thro' the defile out on the

plain:

Tho' I wot well he little knew it, yet they rode but to seek

Gawain!

And they came by the self-same pathway that Lischois he rode

afore,

The proud knight whom Gawain had vanquished, and in joust

from his charger bore. 160

And the lady she held the bridle of the knight who to joust

would ride,

And the sight to Gawain brought sorrow, and swiftly he turned

aside,

And behold! 'twas no lying vision, for without on the grassy

plain

By the river rode Orgelusé, and a knight at her side drew

rein.

E'en as hellebore within the nostril pierceth sharp, and a

man doth sneeze, 165

Thro' his eye to his heart came the Duchess, and she robbed

him of joy and ease!

Alas! I wot well 'gainst Frau Minne all helpless shall be

Gawain--

Then he looked on the knight who rode there, and he spake to

the queen again,

'Lady, a knight I see there, who rideth with well-aimed

spear,

Nor will cease from the goal he seeketh--Well! I ween he may

find it here, 170

Since he craveth some deed of knighthood I am ready with him

to fight,

But say, who shall be the maiden?' she quoth, ''Tis the lady

bright

Who is Duchess and queen of Logrois,--Now 'gainst whom doth

she bear ill-will?

For the Turkowit rideth with her, and unconquered shall he be

still.

With his spear such fame hath he won him, as were riches for

kingdoms three, 175

And against a hand so valiant 'twere best not to venture

thee;

For strife is it all too early, and thou shalt be hurt too

sore,

And e'en wert thou whole I should rede thee to strive with

him nevermore!'

Quoth Gawain, 'If indeed I be lord here then he who so near

shall seek

Deeds of knighthood, shall shame mine honour if vengeance I

fail to wreak. 180

Since he lusteth for strife, O Lady, thou shalt give me mine

armour here!'

Then the ladies, the four, bewailed them with many a bitter

tear:

And they quoth, 'Wilt thou deck thy glory? wilt thou greater

honour know?

Strive not now, shouldst thou fall before him then greater

shall wax our woe.

But e'en if thou be the victor, if thou girdest thine harness

on 185

Thou must die who so sore art wounded, and with thee are we

all undone!'

Gawain, he was sorely anguished, and the cause have ye heard

aright,

For he counted himself dishonoured by the coming of such a

knight

And his wounds, they must sorely pain him, yet love's torment

it vexed him more,

And the grief of these four fair ladies, and the love they

towards him bore. 190

Then he bade them to cease from weeping, and harness and

sword he craved,

And his charger; and those fair women they led forth the hero

brave.

And he bade them go forth before him, and adown the steps

they wind

To the hall where the other maidens so sweet and so fair they

find.

Then Gawain for his perilous journey was armed 'neath the

light of eyes 195

Tear-dimmed, and they secret held it, and none knew save the

merchant wise.

And they bade him the steed make ready, and the hero he

slowly stept

To the place where his charger waited--nor light on its back

he leapt,

But scarcely his shield might he carry, for in sooth was he

wounded sore.

And thro' centre and rim was it piercèd, and traces of battle

bore! 200

Then again he bestrode his charger, and he turned from the

Burg away,

And he rode to his host so faithful; and never he said him

Nay,

But all that he asked he gave him, a spear both strong and

new,

(Many such had, I ween, been his tribute from that plain

where they jousted true,)

Then Gawain bade him ship him over, in a ferry they sought

the shore, 205

And the Turkowit, who high courage and the thought of sure

victory bore;

For so well against shame was he armèd that ill-deeds from

before him fled,

And his fame was so high accounted, that they made of the

sward their bed

Who would ride a joust against him--From their charger they

needs must fall,

And of those who had faced his valour, his spear had

o'erthrown them all. 210

And this was the rule of the hero, that by spear-thrust, and

no sword-blade,

Would he win to him fame in battle, or his honour be

prostrate laid.

And to him who should face his onslaught, and o'erthrow him,

the self-same day

Would he yield, nor defend him further, but would give him

his pledge straightway.

And thus heard Gawain the story from him who the pledge did

hold, 215

For his pledge Plippalinòt took there, when the tale of the

joust was told.

Did one fall while the other sat still, with goodwill of the

heroes twain

Did he take that which one must forfeit, and the other

methinks should gain,

Of the charger I speak, hence he led it, for he deemed they

enough had fought.

Who was victor, and who the vanquished, from the Burg were

the tidings brought, 220

For the women, they looked on the jousting, and many a

conflict saw.

Then he bade Gawain seat him firmly, and the charger he led

to shore,

And his shield and his spear he gave him--and the Turkowit

swiftly came

As one who his joust can measure, nor too high nor too low

his aim.

And Gawain turned his horse against him--of Monsalväsch,

Gringuljet, 225

And it answered unto the bridle, and his spear 'gainst the

foe he set.

Now forward!--the joust be ridden--Here rideth King Lot's

fair son,

Undaunted his heart--Now know ye where the helm hath its

fastening won?

For there did his foeman strike him; but Gawain sought

another aim,

And swift thro' the helmet's visor with sure hand the

spear-point came, 230

And plain to the sight of all men was the fate of the joust

that day,

On his spear short and strong the helmet from his head Gawain

bare away,

And onward it rode, the helmet! But the knight on the grass

lay low,

Who was blossom and flower of all manhood till he met with

such mighty foe.

But now he in joust was vanquished, and the jewels from his

helm were seen 235

To vie with the dew on the herbage and the flowers on the

meadow green.

And Gawain, he rode back unto him, and his pledge did he take

that day,

And the boatman he claimed the charger, who was there should

say him Nay?

Thou art joyful, and yet hast small reason,' spake the lady

of Gawain's love,

(As of old were her words of mocking,) 'Since wherever thy

shield doth move 240

The lion's paw doth follow--And thou thinkest fresh fame to

gain

Since the ladies have looked on thy jousting---Well thou

mayst in thy bliss remain,

Since the Lit Merveil hath dealt gently and but little harm

hath wrought!

And yet is thy shield all splintered as if thou hadst bravely

fought--

Thou art doubtless too sorely wounded to yearn for a further

fray? 245

And such ill to the 'Goose' be reckoned, that I called thee

but yesterday.

So eager wert thou to vaunt thee, as a sieve hast thou

piercèd thro'

Thy shield, one would deem it riddled with the darts that

toward thee flew.

But _to-day_ mayst thou well shun danger--If thy finger shall

wounded be

Ride hence to the maids of the castle, for well will they

care for thee! 250

Far other strife were _his_ portion, to whom I a task would

give,

Did thine heart yet yearn for my favour, and thou wouldst in

my service live!'

Quoth Gawain to the Duchess, 'Lady, tho' deep were my wounds

I trow

They ere this have found help and healing--If such help I

from thee might know

That thou, gracious, wouldst own my service, no peril would

be so great, 255

But I, for thy love and rewarding, the issue would gladly

wait!'

Quoth she, 'Then shalt thou ride with me new honour perchance

to gain!'

Then rich in all joy and contentment was that valiant knight

Gawain--

And the Turkowit went with the boatman, and he bade him the

tidings bear

To the Burg, and there pray the maidens to have of the knight

good care. 260

And his spear it was yet unsplintered, tho' both horses they

spurred amain

To joust, his right hand yet held it, and he bare it from off

the plain.

And many a maiden saw him, and wept as he rode away.

Quoth Arnivé, 'Our joy and comfort hath chosen to him to-day

A joy for the eyes and a sorrow for the heart, yea, both

flower and thorn, 265

Alas! that he rides with the Duchess, since he leaveth us

here forlorn.

To the Perilous Ford he rideth, and his wounds sure shall

work him ill!'

(Maids four hundred must weep for his going, yet new tasks

would he fain fulfil.)

But yet tho' his wounds they pained him, his sorrow had taken

flight

When he looked upon Orgelusé, so fair was her mien and

bright. 270

Then she quoth, 'Thou shalt win me a garland of fresh leaves

from off a tree,

And I for the gift will praise thee--If thou doest this deed

for me

Thou shalt find in my love rewarding!' Then he quoth,

'Wheresoe'er it stand,

The tree that shall bring such blessing as reward unto this

mine hand,

If I not in vain bemoan me, but win hearing for this my

grief, 275

Then thy garland, tho' death it bring me, shall lack not a

single leaf!'

And tho' many a blossom bloomed there yet their colour it was

as naught

To the colour of Orgelusé, and Gawain on her beauty thought

Till it seemed him his grief of aforetime and his anguish had

fled away--

And thus with her guest did she journey a space from the Burg

that day, 280

And the road it was straight and easy, and it led thro' a

forest fair,

And Tamris I ween and Prisein were the names that the trees

did bear,

And the lord of the wood was Klingsor--Then Gawain the hero

spake,

'Say, where shall that garland blossom which the spell of my

grief shalt break?'

(In sooth he had best o'erthrown her, as oft shall have

chanced I trow 285

To many a lovely lady.) Then she quoth, 'Thou shalt see the

bough

Whose plucking shall win thee honour!' O'er the field ran a

deep ravine,

And so near did they ride to the chasm that the tree from

afar was seen.

Then she quoth, 'Now, Sir Knight, one guardeth that tree who

my joy hath slain,

If thou bring me a bough from off it, no hero such prize

shall gain 290

As from me shall be thy rewarding! And here must I hold my

way,

Nor further may I ride with thee; but make thou no more

delay,

God have thee in His safe keeping! Thine horse must thou

straightway bring

To the gulf, and with sure hand urge it o'er the Perilous

Ford to spring.'

So still on the plain she held her, and on rode the gallant

knight, 295

And he hearkened the rush of water that had riven a path with

might

Thro' the plain--it was deep as a valley, and no man its

waves might ford;

Then Gawain spurred his steed towards it, and he sprung o'er

the flood so broad,

And yet but the charger's fore-feet might light on the

further side,

And they fell in the foaming torrent; and the lady in anguish

cried, 300

For swift and wide was the water; yet Gawain he had strength

enow,

Tho' heavy the weight of his armour, for he saw where there

grew a bough

That hung o'er the foaming torrent, and he grasped it, for

life was dear,

And he gained on the bank a footing, and he drew from the

waves his spear.

Up and down the stream swam the charger, and Gawain to its

aid would go, 305

Yet so swift was the rush of the water he followed with pain

its flow,

For heavy I ween his harness, and his wounds they were deep

and sore:

Then he stretched out his spear as a whirlpool bare the

charger towards the shore--

For the rain and the rush of the waters had broken a passage

wide,

And the bank at the place was shelving, and the steed swept

towards the side-- 310

And he caught with the spear its bridle, and drew it towards

the land

Till the hero at last might reach it and lay on the rein his

hand.

And Gawain, the gallant hero, drew his horse out upon the

plain,

And the steed shook itself in safety, nor the torrent as

prize might gain

The shield--Then he girt his charger, and the shield on his

arm he took: 315

And if one weepeth not for his sorrow methinks I the lack may

brook,

Tho' in sooth was he in sore peril--For love he the venture

dared,

For the fair face of Orgelusé, his hand to the bough he

bared.

And I wot, 'twas a gallant journey, and the tree it was

guarded well,

He was _one_, were he _twain_, for that garland his life must

the payment tell. 320

King Gramoflanz, he would guard it, yet Gawain he would pluck

the bough.

The water, men called it Sabbins, and the tribute was harsh

enow

That Gawain would fetch when both charger and knight did the

wild waves breast.

Tho' the lady was fair, _I_ had wooed not! To shun her

methinks were best.

When Gawain erst the bough had broken and its leaves in his

helm did wave, 325

Uprode a knight towards him, and his bearing was free and

brave.

Nor too few were his years nor too many; and in this he his

pride had shown,

What evil so e'er befell him he fought not with _one_ alone,

_Two_ or more must they be, his foemen! So high beat his

gallant heart,

That whate'er _one_ might do to harm him unscathed might he

thence depart. 330

To Gawain this son of King Irôt a fair 'good-morrow' gave,

'Twas King Gramoflanz--'To the garland that doth there in

thine helmet wave

I yield not my claim!' thus quoth he, 'Sir Knight, were ye

_two_ I trow,

Who here for high honour seeking had reft from my tree a

bough,

I had greeted ye not, but had fought ye, but since thou alone

shalt be, 335

Thou canst ride hence, for strife unequal I deem it a shame

to me!'

And Gawain, too, was loth to fight him, for no armour the

king did wear,

And naught but a yearling falcon he did on his white hand

bear.

(And the sister of Gawain gave it, Itonjé the maid was

hight.)

His headgear in Sinzester fashioned was of peacock's plumage

bright, 340

And green as grass was the mantle of velvet that wrapped him

round,

And with ermine lined, and on each side it swept even unto

the ground.

None too tall yet strong was the charger on which the king

did ride,

From Denmark by land they brought it, or it came o'er the

waters wide.

And the monarch he rode unarmèd, nor even a sword would bear. 345

Quoth King Gramoflanz, 'Thou hast foughten, if thy shield may

the truth declare,

For but little unharmed remaineth, and it seemeth sure to me

That the "Lit Merveil" was thy portion, and this venture hath

fallen to thee!'

'Now hast thou withstood the peril that myself I were fain to

dare,

Had not Klingsor been ever friendly, and warfare with her my

share 350

Who in Love's strife is ever victor, since her beauty doth

win the day;

And she beareth fierce wrath against me, and in sooth hath

she cause alway!

Eidegast have I slain, her husband, and with him I slew

heroes four;

Orgelusé herself, as my captive, I thence to my kingdom bore,

And my crown and my land would I give her, yet what service

my hand might yield, 355

Of all would she naught, but with hatred her heart 'gainst my

pleading steeled.

And a whole year long I held her, and a whole year long I

prayed,

Yet never she hearkened to me, and ever my love gainsaid.

And thus from my heart I bemoan me, since I know that her

love to thee

She hath promised, since here I meet thee, and death wouldst

thou bring to me. 360

If with _her_ thou hadst hither ridden, perchance had I here

been slain,

Or perchance ye had died together--such guerdon thy love

might gain!'

'And my heart other service seeketh, and mine aid lieth in

thine hand,

Since here thou hast been the victor thou art lord o'er this

wonder-land;

And if thou wilt show me kindness help me now a fair maid to

win 365

For whose sake my heart knoweth sorrow, to King Lot is she

near of kin,

And no maiden of all earth's maidens hath wrought me such

grief and pain!

Her token I bear--I prithee, if thou seest that maid again

Swear thou to her faithful service--I think me she means me

fair,

And for her sake I fight, for her favour I many a peril dare; 370

For since with true words Orgelusé her love hath denied to

me,

Wherever for fame I battled, whate'er might my portion be,

Of joy or of grief, _she_ hath caused it, Itonjé, for whom I

fight,

Yet alas! I have ne'er beheld her! Now do me this grace, Sir

Knight,

If aid thou art fain to give me, then take thou this golden

ring, 375

And unto my lovely lady, I prithee, the token bring.

Thou art free from strife, I fight not till thou bring with

thee two or more.

What honour were mine if I slew thee? I ever such strife

forbore!'

'Yet in sooth I can well defend me, as a man should,' quoth

knight Gawain,

'Thou thinkest small fame will it bring thee if I here at

thine hand be slain, 380

But what honour shall _I_ have won me by breaking this bough,

I pray?

For none will account it glory if I slay thee unarmed to-day!

But yet will I do thy message--Give me here the finger-ring,

And thy sorrow of heart, and thy service, I will to thy lady

bring.'

Then the king he thanked him freely--But Gawain he quoth in

this wise, 385

'Now tell me, Sir Knight, who may he be who doth conflict

with me despise?'

'An thou count it me not for dishonour,' quoth the king,

'here my name be told,

King Irôt he was my father, who was slain by King Lot of old.

And King Gramoflanz do men call me, and my heart doth such

valour know

That never, for evil done me, will I fight with but one for

foe, 390

Saving one man alone, hight Gawain, of _him_ have I heard

such fame

That to fight with him I am ready, and vengeance from him I

claim.

For his father he dealt with treason, in fair greeting my

father slew,

Good cause have I here for mine anger and the words that I

speak are true.

Now dead is King Lot, and Gawain, his fame o'er all knights

stands high 395

Of the Table Round, and I yearn still till the day of our

strife draw nigh.'

Then out quoth King Lot's son dauntless, 'Wouldst pleasure

thy lady still,

If indeed she shall be thy lady, and dost speak of her father

ill?

And reckonest to him false treason, and her brother art fain

to slay!

Then indeed must she be false maiden if she mourn not thy

deeds alway! 400

If true daughter she were, and sister, for the twain would

she surely speak,

And forbid thee, methinks, thine hatred on kinsmen so near to

wreak.

If so be that thy true love's father hath broken his troth,

yet thou

Shouldst, as kinsman, avenge the evil that men spake of the

dead, I trow!

His _son_ will not fear to do so, and little methinks he'll

care 405

If small aid in his need he findeth from the love of his

sister fair.

He, himself, will be pledge for his father, and his sin be

upon _my_ head,

For Sir King, I who speak am Gawain, and thou warrest not

with the dead!

But I, from such shame to free him, what honour be mine or

fame,

In strife will I give to the scourging ere thou slander my

father's name!' 410

Quoth the king, 'Art thou he whom I hated with a hatred as

yet unstilled?

For alike with both joy and sorrow thy valour my soul hath

filled.

And _one_ thing in thee doth please me, that at last I may

fight with thee,

And I rede thee to wit that great honour in this hast thou

won from me,

Since I vowed but to fight with thee only--And our fame shall

wax great alway, 415

If many a lovely lady we bring to behold the fray.

For I can bring fifteen hundred, and thou art of a fair host

king

At Château Merveil; and on thy side thine uncle can others

bring

From the land that he rules, King Arthur, and Löver its name

shall be,

And the city is Bems by the Korka, as well shall be known to

thee. 420

There lieth he now with his vassals, and hither can make his

way,

In eight days, with great joy; so I bid thee to meet me the

sixteenth day,

When I come, for my wrong's avenging, to Ioflanz upon the

plain,

And the pay for this garland's plucking I there from thine

hand shall gain!'

Then King Gramoflanz prayed of Gawain to ride unto Rosche

Sabbin, 425

'For nearer methinks than the city no way o'er the flood

thou'lt win!'

But out quoth the gallant Gawain, 'I will back e'en as erst I

came,

But in all else thy will I'll follow.' Then they sware them

by their fair fame

That with many a knight and lady at Ioflanz they'ld meet for

strife

On the chosen day, and alone there would battle for death or

life. 430

And on this wise Gawain he parted for awhile from the noble

knight,

And joyful he turned his bridle, and the bough decked his

helm so bright.

And he checked not his steed, but spurred it to the edge of

the gulf once more,

Nor Gringuljet missed his footing, but he sprang well the

chasm o'er,

And he fell not again, the hero--Then the lady she turned her

rein 435

As he sprang to the ground, and tightened the girths of his

steed again,

And swiftly to give him welcome, I ween, she to earth did

spring,

And low at his feet she cast her, and she spake, 'I such need

did bring

Upon thee, Sir Knight, as I wot well was more than thy worth

might ask,

And yet have I felt such sorrow, for the sorrow of this thy

task, 440

And the service that thou hast done me, as I deem she alone

doth know

Who loveth in truth, and, faithful, doth weep o'er her

lover's woe!'

Then he quoth, 'Is this truth, and thy greeting be not

falsehood in friendly guise,

Then _thyself_ dost thou honour, Lady! For in this shall I be

so wise

That I know a knight's shield claimeth honour, and thou didst

against knighthood sin, 445

For so high doth it stand that from no man methinks doth he

mocking win,

Who as true knight hath ever borne him--This, Lady, I needs

must say,

Whoever had looked upon me had known me for knight alway,

Yet knighthood thou wouldst deny me when first thou my face

didst see,

But henceforth that may rest--Take this garland I won at thy

will for thee, 450

But I bid thee henceforth beware thee that never thy beauty

bright

Shall again in such wise mislead thee to dishonour a gallant

knight,

For I wot, ere such scorn and mocking again at thine hand I

bore,

Thy love thou shouldst give to another, I would ask for it

nevermore!'

Then she spake as she wept full sorely, that lady so sweet

and fair, 455

'Sir Knight, did I tell unto thee the woe that my heart doth

bear,

Thou wouldst own that full sore my sorrow--If I shall

discourteous be,

Then he whom I wrong may forgive me of true heart with

forgiveness free.

For of such joy no man can rob me as the joy that I lost

awhile

In that knight of all knights the bravest, Eidegast, who knew

naught of guile! 460

So brave and so fair my true love, his fame was as sunlight's

ray,

And for honour he strove so truly that all others, in this

his day,

Both here and afar, born of woman, they owned that his praise

stood high

O'er that of all men, and no glory might e'er with his glory

vie.

A fountain, for aye upspringing, of virtue, his gallant

youth, 465

And falsehood ne'er shamed his honour nor darkened the light

of truth.

Into light came he forth from the darkness, and his honour

aloft he bore,

That none who spake word of treason might reach to it

evermore.

From the root in a true heart planted it waxed and it spread

amain,

Till he rose o'er all men as Saturn doth high o'er the

planets reign. 470

And true as the one-horned marvel, since the truth I am fain

to tell,

The knight of my love and desiring,--for whose fate maids may

weep full well,

Thro' its virtue I ween it dieth--And I, I was as his heart,

And my body was he! Ah! woe is me, that I must from such true

love part!

And King Gramoflanz, _he_ slew him, the knight thou but now

didst see, 475

And the bough thou hast brought unto me from the tree of his

ward shall be.'

'Sir Knight, did I ill-entreat thee, I did it for this alone,

I would prove if thine heart were steadfast, and my love

might to thee atone.

I know well my words did wound thee, yet they were but to

prove thee meant,

And I pray thee, of this thy goodness, be thine anger with

pity blent, 480

And forgive me the ill I did thee. I have found thee both

brave and true,

As gold that is tried in the furnace shineth forth from the

flame anew,

So, methinks, doth it shine, thy courage. He, for whose harm

I brought thee here,

As I thought me afore, and I think still, his valour hath

cost me dear.'

Quoth Gawain, 'If awhile death spare me, such lesson I'll

read the king 485

As shall put to his pride an ending, and his life in sore

peril bring.

My faith as a knight have I pledged him, hereafter, a little

space,

To meet him in knightly combat, nor our manhood shall we

disgrace.

And here I forgive thee, Lady, and if thou wilt not disdain

My counsel so rough, I'll tell thee wherewith thou mayst

honour gain, 490

What shall 'seem thee well as a woman, nor in aught shall

unfitting be,

Here we twain are alone, I pray thee show favour and grace to

me!'

But she quoth, 'In an arm thus mail-clad but seldom I warmly

lay;

Yet would I not strive against thee, thou shalt on a fitting

day

Win rewarding for this thy service--Thy sorrow will I bemoan, 495

Till thou of thy wounds art healèd and all thought of thine

ill be flown;

To Château Merveil I'll ride with thee.' 'Now waxeth my joy

indeed!'

Quoth the hero, of love desirous, and he lifted her on her

steed,

And close clung his arm around her: 'twas more than she

deemed him worth

When first by the spring she saw him, and mocked him with

bitter mirth. 500

Then joyful Gawain he rode hence; yet the lady she wept

alway,

And he mourned with her woe, and he prayed her the cause of

her grief to say,

And in God's Name to cease from weeping! Then she quoth, 'I

must mourn, Sir Knight,

Because of the hand that slew him, the knight of my love, in

fight;

For that deed to my heart brought sorrow, tho' I naught but

delight had known 505

When Eidegast's love rejoiced me; yet was I not so o'erthrown

But since then I might seek his mischief, whatever the cost

might be,

And many fierce jousts have been ridden that were aimed at

his life by me.

And here, methinks, canst thou aid me, and avenge me on him,

my foe,

And repay me for this sore sorrow that my heart doth for ever

know.' 510

'For the winning his death I took gladly the service he

proffered me,

A king, who of earthly wishes the master and lord should be,

Sir Knight, he was named Anfortas--As his love-pledge to me

he sent

That which standeth without thy portals, from Tabronit it

came, that tent,

And great I ween is its value--But alas! for that gallant

king, 515

Such reward did he win in my service as all joy to an end

must bring

Where fain I my love had given, there must I fresh sorrow

know,

For bitter indeed was his guerdon!--As great, or e'en

greater, woe

Than the death of Eidegast brought me, was my lot thro'

Anfortas' fate.

Now say, how shall I, of all women most wretched, in this

estate, 520

If my _heart_ yet be true, be other than of senses and mind

distraught,

Yea, at times have I been beside me when I on Anfortas

thought;

After Eidegast did I choose him, my avenger and love to be--

Now hearken and hear how Klingsor won that booth thou

erewhile didst see:

When it fell so the brave Anfortas, who this token had sent

to me, 525

Was of love and of joy forsaken, then I feared lest I shamed

should be;

For Klingsor, such power he wieldeth by the force of his

magic spell,

That maiden or man to his purpose can he force as shall

please him well.

All gallant folk that he seeth, unharmed may they ne'er go

free--

Thus my riches to him I proffered, if so be he sware peace

with me. 530

And he that should brave the venture, and he that should win

the prize,

To _him_ I my love should offer; but if so be that in his

eyes

My love were a thing unworthy, the booth should be mine

again.

But now hast thou done my bidding, and it falleth unto us

twain;

And 'twas sworn in the ears of many, for thereby I hoped to

lure 535

My foe (yet in this I failèd) for the strife he might ne'er

endure.'

'Now courtly and wise is Klingsor; for his honour it pleased

him well

That many a deed of knighthood, at my will, in his land

befell,

By the hand of my valiant servants, with many a thrust and

blow.

All the week, every day as it passes, and the weeks into

years do grow, 540

My troops in their changing order beset him by night and day,

For at great cost my snares so cunning for Gramoflanz did I

lay.

And many have striven with him, yet must him as victor own;

Yet I still for his life am thirsting, and at last shall he

be o'erthrown.

And some were too rich for my payment, and but for my love

would serve, 545

Then I bid them for _that_ do me service, but reward did they

ne'er deserve.'

'And never a man beheld me but his service I swiftly won,

Save _one_, and he bare red armour; to my folk he much ill

had done,

For hither he rode from Logrois, and he there did my knights

o'erthrow

In such wise that they fell before him, and it pleased me but

ill I trow. 550

And, between Logrois and thy meadow, five knights they

followed fair,

And he cast them to earth, and their chargers the boatman

from thence must bear.

Then as he my knights had vanquished, I myself did the hero

pray

For my love and my land to serve me, but naught would that

red knight say,

Save he had a wife who was fairer, and should aye to his

heart be dear. 555

Then wroth was I at his answer, and the name of his wife

would hear:

"Wouldst thou know the name of my chosen?--She reigneth at

Pelrapär,

And _Parzival_ all men call me, and naught for thy love I

care,

Other sorrow the Grail doth give me!" Then in anger he rode

away;

Now, I prithee, here give me counsel, if evil I did that day, 560

When I, by heart-sorrow driven, proffered love to that

gallant knight?

Should I count my fair fame dishonoured?' Quoth Gawain to

that lady bright,

'A gallant knight is he, truly, who thus thy desire hath

crossed,

Had he to thy bidding hearkened no fame thou thro' him hadst

lost!'

Then Gawain, the courteous hero, and the lady his rein

beside, 565

Gazed lovingly on each other--and so far on their way did

ride,

That they drew anear to the castle, where the venture

erewhile befell,

And they who looked forth might see them---'Now, Lady,

'twould please me well

If thou do this thing that I ask thee, from all men my name

withhold,

Which the knight who once stole my charger aloud in thine

hearing told. 570

But do this that I say, if any shall pray thee to tell my

name,

Say, "I know not the name of my true knight, none spake it

when here he came."'

Then she quoth, 'I will keep it secret, since thou wouldst

not 'twere spoken here.'

And the knight and the lovely lady they rode to the Burg

anear.

Now the knights they had heard of the coming of one who, with

valiant hand, 575

Faced the venture, and slew the lion, and the Turkowit dared

withstand,

Yea, and had in fair joust o'erthrown him; and now on the

flowery plain,

The meadow of strife, rode the hero, and they looked on the

knight Gawain,

From the battlements could they see him; and the forces

together draw;

And with ringing blast of trumpet they pass thro' the castle

door, 580

And rich banners on high were tossing, and their steeds o'er

the plain they flew,

And he deemed that they came for battle, so swift they

towards him drew.

As Gawain from afar might see them to the lady he spake

again,

'Do they come here with thought of battle?' But she quoth,

'They are Klingsor's men,

From afar have they seen thy coming, and they ride their new

lord to greet, 585

With joy would they bid thee welcome! Refuse not this honour

meet,

Since 'tis gladness that doth constrain them.' There, too, in

a vessel fair

Plippalinòt came to meet them, and his daughter with him did

bear;

And swift o'er the flowery meadow the maiden towards them

stept,

And joyful she hailed the hero for whom she aforetime wept. 590

Then Gawain gave her courteous greeting, and stirrup and foot

she kissed,

And she turned her to Orgelusé, nor the lady her welcome

missed.

And she prayed him to 'light from his charger the while that

she held the rein,

And then to the ship she led them, the lady and knight

Gawain;

And there, in the place of honour, a carpet and cushions lay, 595

And the Duchess by Gawain sat her, as the maiden the twain

did pray.

And her office the maid forgat not, she disarmèd the hero

there,

And in sooth it is said that the mantle she did for his

robing bear

Which had served him that night for cover, when he did 'neath

her rooftree lie,

And now was the hour for its wearing and it wrapped him right

royally. 600

So clad was Gawain in her mantle, and his own robe beneath he

wore,

And the harness he laid from off him on one side the maiden

bore.

And now as they sat together for the first time the lady fair

Might look on his face and know him--Then unto the twain they

bare

Two game-birds that well were roasted, and with them a flask

of wine, 605

And two cakes did the maiden bring them on a cloth that was

white and fine--

The birds were the prey of the falcon--but Gawain and his

lady bright

Must seek water themselves, if to wash them ere they ate here

should seem them right,

And this did the twain; and joyful was the knight that he now

might eat

With her, for whose sake he would suffer joy, or sorrow, as

seemed her meet. 610

And oft as the cup she gave him that her sweet lips had

touched, anew

Sprang his joy that he thus drank with her, and his sorrow

behind him drew,

And it halted nor might o'ertake him, and his gladness on

swift foot sped,

So fair was her mouth and so rosy her lips that from grief he

fled.

And no longer his wounds they pained him--Then the ladies

from out the tower 615

They looked on the feast, and below them there rode in the

self-same hour,

On the further side of the river, brave knights who would

show their skill.

And the boatman alike and his daughter Gawain thanked with

right goodwill,

Ere yet he might ferry them over, and the lady spake with him

there,

For the food and the drink they had brought them--Then out

quoth the lady fair, 620

'Now what hath that knight befallen, who yestreen, ere I rode

away,

Was o'erthrown in a joust by another? Was he slain, or doth

live alway?'

Quoth the boatman, 'He liveth, Lady, and he spake but this

day with me,

He was given to me for his charger: if thy will be to set him

free,

In his stead will I have the "swallow" that Queen Sekundillé

sent 625

To Anfortas, be thine the hero, with the harp were I well

content!'

'Both the harp and the other riches that the booth may within

it hold,'

Quoth the lady, 'are his who sits here, he may give them, or

aye withhold,

Let him do as he will! If he love me, Lischois he methinks

will loose,

Nor freedom unto the other, my prince, will he here refuse. 630

Florand of Itolac is he, of my night-watch was he the chief,

And as he as Turkowit served me, so his sorrow shall be my

grief!'

Quoth Gawain to his lovely lady, 'Ere it weareth to eventide

Thou shalt look on the twain in freedom!' Then they came to

the further side,

And the Duchess, so fair to look on, he lifted upon her

steed, 635

And many a noble horseman were waiting them on the mead,

And greeting fair they gave them; and they turned to the Burg

again,

And joyful they rode around them and skilful they drew the

rein,

And the Buhurd was fair to look on--What more shall I tell ye

here?

Gawain, and his lovely lady, at the castle they found good

cheer, 640

In such wise did the ladies greet them at Château Merveil

that day,

And good fortune had here befallen that such bliss should be

his alway.

Then Arnivé she straightway led him to a chamber, and they

who knew

Of such lore his hurts they tended, and they bound up his

wounds anew.

Quoth Gawain unto Arnivé, 'Give me, Lady, a messenger!' 645

Then straightway she sent a maiden, and the maid brought

again with her

A footman, both true and manly, as behovèd him well to be.

And an oath did he swear unto Gawain, to serve him right

faithfully,

And, were it for joy or for sorrow, his errand to secret hold

From all men, both there and elsewhere, till he came where it

might be told. 650

Then they brought to him ink and parchment, and Gawain, King

Lot's fair son,

Wrote clear with his hand the message, and thus did the

writing run--

To them who abode in Löver's fair country, King Arthur brave

And his queen, with a faith unstainèd, true service and good

he gave;

And he said, had he fame deservèd, and they would not his

praise were slain, 655

They should come to his aid in his trouble, and show to him

truth again,

And with following of knights and ladies to Ioflanz their way

should wend,

Where he came himself, and his honour would in mortal strife

defend.

And further, this thing he told them, the foemen on either

side

Had pledged themselves in all honour and pomp to the field to

ride; 660

And therefore he, Gawain, prayed them, both lady alike and

knight,

If they bare goodwill towards him, with their king to behold

the fight.

For so should it be to their honour. He commended him to them

all

Who were of his service worthy, for the strife that should

there befall!--

No seal did he put to the letter, yet token enough it bare 665

Of him who should be the writer. Quoth Gawain to the footman

there,

'No longer shalt thou delay thee, the king and the queen

abide

In the city of Bems by the Korka; seek the queen in the

morning-tide

And the thing she shall bid thee, do thou. But this shalt

thou secret hold,

That I in this land am master shall unto no ear be told. 670

Nor of this thing be thou forgetful, that thou shalt my

servant be,

And do thou, without delaying, the errand I give to thee!'

Then the footman from thence he gat him, and Arnivé she

softly went,

And she asked of him what was his errand? and whither his

road was bent?

And he quoth, 'Nay, I may not tell thee, for an oath have I

sworn to-day, 675

God keep thee, for I must ride hence!' To the army he took

his way.

BOOK XIII

KLINGSOR

ARGUMENT

Book XIII. tells of the goodly feast that was holden in Château

Merveil, and of the wedding of Gawain and Orgelusé. How Gawain's

squire

did his bidding; and how King Arthur and Queen Guinevere pledged

themselves to ride to Ioflanz to behold the conflict between

Gawain and

Gramoflanz.

How Gawain fared in Château Merveil; and how Arnivé told him the

history of Klingsor, and of his unlawful love.

Of the coming of King Arthur and his host; how they fought before

Logrois; and came with great pomp to the plain of Ioflanz.

How Gawain and the dwellers in Château Merveil followed to the

plain;

of the goodly camp prepared for them; of the wonder of the court

and

Kay's jealousy; and how the four queens were made known to King

Arthur.

BOOK XIII

KLINGSOR

Then wrathful, I ween, was Arnivé that the messenger said her

Nay,

Nor told her aught of his errand, nor whither his journey

lay.

And in this wise she quoth to the porter, 'Now, whatever the

hour may be,

Be it day, be it night, when he cometh, send tidings thereof

to me,

In secret would I speak with him; thou art wise, as full well

I know!' 5

Yet wroth was she still with the footman--Then she would to

the Duchess go,

And win from her lips the answer, but ready was she of wit,

And the name that he bare, her hero, her mouth spake no word

of it.

Gawain he would have her silent, in her hearing his prayer

found grace,

And she spake not, nor might Arnivé learn aught of his name

and race. 10

Then the sound as of many trumpets thro' the hall of the

palace rang,

And joyful the blasts--Then rich carpets around on each wall

they hang,

And no foot but fell on a carpet would it tread on the palace

floor,

A poor man had surely feared him for the riches that there he

saw.

And many a couch they stood there, around the stately hall, 15

Soft were they as down, and rich cushions they laid upon each

and all.

But Gawain with his toil was wearied, and he slept tho' the

sun was high,

And his wounds, with such skill they bound them, tho' his

love should beside him lie,

And he in his arms should hold her, he had gotten no hurt I

ween.

And sounder his daylight's slumber than his sleep of the

night had been 20

When his love had so sorely vexed him; he slept till the

vesper bell,

Yet still in his sleep he battled for the lady he loved so

well.

Then rich garments of fair silk fashioned, and heavy with

broidered gold,

Did the chamberlain bear unto him--Then out quoth the hero

bold,

'More robes such as these, and as costly, I ween, shalt thou

hither bear, 25

For Gowerzein's Duke shall need them, and Florand, the hero

fair,

For in many a land hath he battled, and hath won for him

glory's meed--

Now see that thou make them ready, and do my behest with

speed!'

Then he prayed, by a squire, the boatman send hither the

captive knight,

And Lischois did he send at his bidding by the hand of his

daughter bright. 30

And the maiden Bené brought him for the love that she bare

Gawain,

And the good that he vowed to her father that morn when she

wept amain,

And the knight he left her weeping, and rode on his toilsome

way--

And the highest prize of his manhood it fell to his lot that

day.

The Turkowit too had come there, and Gawain the twain did

greet 35

In all friendship, and then he prayed them beside him to take

their seat

Till their robes should be brought unto them; and costly they

needs must be,

For never was fairer raiment than the garb of those heroes

three.

For one lived of yore named Sarant, (a city doth bear his

name,)

From out of the land of Triande in the days that are gone he

came. 40

In the land of Queen Sekundillé stood a city so great and

fair,

(E'en Nineveh or Akraton with its glories might scarce

compare,)

And the city, men called it Thasmé; there Sarant won meed of

fame,

Since he wove there a silk with cunning, _Saranthasmé_ should

be its name.

Think ye it was fair to look on? How might it be otherwise, 45

For much gold must he give for the payment who would win to

him such a prize.

Such robes ware these two and Gawain: then they gat them unto

the hall,

And on one side the knights they sat them, on the other the

ladies all,

And he who a woman's beauty had wisdom to judge aright

Must reckon Gawain's fair lady the first of these ladies

bright. 50

And the host and his guests so gallant they gazed on her

radiant glow,

As they stood before Orgelusé; and her knights she again must

know,

And her Turkowit, gallant Florand, and Lischois, the young

and fair,

Were set free, without let or hindrance, for the love that

Gawain must bear

To the lovely lady of Logrois--Then their victor they thanked

amain, 55

Who was dull to all ill, yet had wisdom in all that might

true love gain.

As the captives thus free were spoken, Gawain the four queens

must see

As they stood by the side of the Duchess, and he spake in his

courtesy,

And he bade the two knights go nearer, and with kiss greet

those ladies bright,

The three younger queens, and joyful, I ween, was each

gallant knight. 60

And there was the maiden Bené, with Gawain had she sought the

hall,

And I think me a joyful welcome she found there from each and

all.

Then the host would no longer stand there, and the twain did

he pray to sit

By the maidens, as best should please them, and it grievèd

them not one whit,

Such counsel it grieveth no man! Then the gallant Gawain

spake, 65

'Now which of these maids is Itonjé? Beside her my seat I'ld

take!'

Thus in secret he spake to Bené, and she showed him the

maiden fair,

'She, with eyes so clear and shining, and red lips, and dusky

hair!

Wouldst thou speak with the maid in secret? Then thy words be

wise and few:'

Thus quoth Bené the wise in counsel, who Itonjé's love-tale

knew, 70

And knew that King Gramoflanz loved her, and did service for

her heart's love,

And his faith as a knight unstainèd would fain to the maiden

prove.

Gawain sat him by the maiden, (as I heard so the tale I

tell,)

And soft was his speech and gentle, and his words they

beseemed him well.

And tho' few were the years of Itonjé yet great was her

courtesy, 75

And well did she know how to bear her as a maiden of high

degree.

And this question he asked the maiden, if a lover she aye had

known?

And with wisdom she made him answer, 'To whom might my love

be shown,

For ne'er to a man have I spoken, since the day I first saw

the light,

Save the words which thou now dost hearken as I speak unto

thee, Sir Knight!' 80

'Yet mayst thou have heard the rumour of one who hath bravely

fought,

And striven for prize of knighthood, and with dauntless heart

hath sought

Fair service for fair rewarding?' In such wise spake the

knight Gawain;

But the maiden she quoth, 'Nay, no hero hath striven _my_

love to gain;

Yon lady, the Duchess of Logrois, hath many a gallant knight 85

Who serve her for love, or for payment, and hither they come

to fight,

And we of their jousts are witness, yet none shall have come

so nigh

As _thou_ hast, Sir Knight, and this conflict thy glory hath

raised on high!'

Then he quoth to the lovely maiden, 'Whose pathway shall she

have crossed

With many a chosen hero? Say, who hath her favour lost?' 90

'That, Sir Knight, hath the valiant monarch, King Gramoflanz,

he who bore

From aforetime the crown of honour; so men say, and _I_ know

no more!'

Quoth Gawain, 'Thou shalt know more of him, since he draweth

the prize anear,

And with steadfast heart doth he seek it; from his lips I

this tale did hear--

Of true heart would he do thee service, if such service shall

be thy will, 95

And help at thine hand he seeketh that thy love may his

torment still.

It is well that a king face peril, if his lady shall be a

queen,

And _thou_ art the maid whom he loveth, if King Lot hath thy

father been;

Thou art she for whom his heart weepeth, if thy name shall

Itonjé be,

And sorrow of heart dost thou give him--By my mouth would he

plead with thee.' 100

'Now if thou be true and faithful of his woe wilt thou make

an end,

And _both_ would I serve right gladly--This ring he to thee

doth send,

I prithee to take it, Lady! In sooth do I mean thee well,

And if thou wilt trust unto me no word of the tale I'll

tell!'

Then crimson she blushed, the maiden, and e'en as her lips

were red 105

So red grew her cheek, yet the blushes as they came so they

swiftly sped.

And she stretched forth her hand so shyly toward the little

ring of gold,

For e'en at a glance she knew it, and her hand did the token

hold.

Then she spake, 'Now, Sir Knight, I see well, if I freely to

thee may speak,

That thou comest from him, whom, desiring, my heart doth for

ever seek. 110

My words shalt thou still hold secret, as courtesy biddeth

thee,

This ring have I seen aforetime, for it oft hath been sent to

me;

From the hand of the king it cometh, and I know it for token

true,

From my hand did he first receive it. What sorrow so e'er he

knew,

Of that do I hold me guiltless; what he asked, that in

thought I gave, 115

Had we met I had ne'er withholden the boon he from me did

crave.'

'This day have I kissed Orgelusé, who thinketh his death to

win,

I ween 'twas the kiss of Judas which all men count to him for

sin!

And honour and faith forsook me, when the Turkowit, brave

Florand,

And Gowerzein's Duke, fair Lischois, I kissed here at thy

command. 120

From my heart I might not forgive them, for my true love they

hate alway--

But speak thou no word to my mother.' Thus the maiden Gawain

did pray.

'Sir Knight, it was _thou_ didst pray me to take from their

lips this kiss,

Tho' no will for forgiveness had I, and my heart sickeneth

sore for this!

If joy shall be e'er our portion, our help in thine hand

shall be, 125

And I know well, above all women, the king he desireth me;

And his will shall he have, for I love him o'er all men on

earth that live--

God send thee good help and good counsel, that joy thou to us

mayst give!'

Quoth Gawain, 'How may that be, Lady? He beareth thee in his

heart,

And in thine dost thou ever hold him, and yet are ye twain

apart. 130

If I knew how to give thee counsel that ye twain might in

gladness dwell,

Of a sooth no pains would I spare me such rede unto thee to

tell.'

Then she quoth, 'Yet in truth shalt thou rule us, myself, and

my gallant king,

And naught but thy help and God's blessing our love to its

goal may bring,

So that I, poor homeless maiden, his sorrow may put away, 135

For his joy shall be set upon me! If so be I from truth ne'er

stray,

What other can I desire here, or for what shall my true heart

yearn,

Save to give him the love he asketh, and his grief unto

gladness turn?'

Gawain, he saw well that the maiden would fain to her love

belong,

Yet her hatred towards the Duchess as aforetime was fierce

and strong; 140

Thus hatred and love did she bear here, and wrong had he done

the maid

Who thus, of a true heart simply, her plaint had before him

laid.

Since never a word had he told her how one mother had borne

them both,

And King Lot he had been their father--Then he answered her,

little loth,

He would do what he might to aid her, and in secret with

gracious word 145

She thanked him who brought her comfort, and her sorrow with

kindness heard.

Now the hour it was come, and they brought there for the

tables fair linen white,

And bread did they bear to the palace unto many a lady

bright,

And there might ye see a severance, for the knights they sat

by one wall,

Apart from the maids; and their places Gawain gave to each

and all. 150

And the Turkowit sat beside him, and Lischois ate with

Sangivé,

(And that fair queen was Gawain's mother,) and Orgelusé by

Arnivé.

And Gawain set his lovely sister by his side at that festal

board,

And all did as he bade them gladly, for he was that castle's

lord.

My skill not the half doth tell me, no such master-cook am I, 155

That I know the name of the viands they offered them

courteously;

The host, and each one of the ladies, their servers were

maidens fair,

To the knights who sat over against them many squires did

their portion bear.

For this was the seemly custom, that no squire, in his

serving haste,

Brushed roughly against a maiden, but ever apart they paced-- 160

And whether 'twas wine, or 'twas viands, they offered unto

the guests,

In naught was their courtesy harmèd, for so did men deem it

best.

And a feast they to-day must look on such as no man before

had seen,

Since vanquished by Klingsor's magic both lady and knight had

been.

Unknown were they yet to each other, tho' one portal it shut

them in, 165

And never a man and a maiden might speech of each other win;

And a good thing Gawain he thought it that this folk should

each other meet,

And much he rejoiced in their gladness, and his own lot it

seemed him sweet;

Yet ever he looked in secret on his lady and love so fair,

And his heart it waxed hot within him, and love's anguish he

needs must bear. 170

But the day drew near to its closing, and faint waxed the

waning light,

And fair thro' the clouds of heaven gleamed the messengers of

the night,

Many stars so bright and golden, who speed on their silent

way

When the night would seek for shelter in the realm of

departing day;

And after her standard-bearers, with her host doth she

swiftly tread-- 175

Now many a fair crown golden in the palace hung high

o'erhead,

And with tapers they all were lighted around the stately

hall,

And they bare unto every table a host of tapers tall;

And yet the story telleth that the Duchess she was so fair,

That ne'er was it night in her presence tho' never a torch

were there! 180

For her glance was so bright and radiant it brought of itself

the day;

And this tale of fair Orgelusé full oft have I heard men say.

He had spoken, methinks, untruly who said that he e'er had

seen

A host so rich and joyous, and joyous his guests, I ween;

And ever with eager gladness each knight and each gentle maid 185

Looked well on each other's faces, nor shrank from the glance

afraid.

If friendship they here desirèd, or each other would better

know,

Then naught of their joy would I grudge them, methinks it

were better so!

Tho' I wot well there none was a glutton, yet still had they

ate their fill,

And they bare on one side the tables, and Gawain asked, with

right goodwill, 190

If here there should be a fiddler? and many a gallant squire

Was skilled on the strings, and gladly would play at the

host's desire,

Yet were they not all too skilful, and the dances were old

alway,

Not new, as in fair Thuringia the dances they know to-day.

Then they thanked their host who, joyful, would give to their

joy its vent, 195

And many a lovely lady in his presence danced well content,

For goodly their dance to look on, and their ranks, with many

a pair

Of knight and lady, mingled, and grief fled from their faces

fair.

And oft 'twixt two gentle maidens might be seen a noble

knight,

And they who looked well upon them in their faces might read

delight. 200

And whatever knight bethought him, and would of his lady pray

Reward, if for love he served her, none said to his pleading

Nay.

Thus they who were poor in sorrow, and rich in joy's fairest

dower,

With sweet words, by sweet lips spoken, made gladsome the

passing hour.

Gawain and the Queen Arnivé, and Sangivé, the dance so fleet 205

Would look on in peace, for they danced not; then the Duchess

she took her seat

By the side of Gawain, and her white hand he held in his own

a while,

And they spake of this thing and the other, with many a

glance and smile;

He rejoiced that she thus had sought him, and his grief it

waxed small and faint,

And his joy it grew strong and mighty, nor vexed him with

sorrow's plaint. 210

And great was the joy of the lady o'er the dance, and the

merry feast,

Yet less was the sorrow of Gawain, and his joy o'er her joy

increased.

Then spake the old Queen Arnivé, 'Sir Knight, now methinks

'twere best

That thou get thee to bed, for sorely, I ween, shall thy

wounds need rest

Has the Duchess perchance bethought her to care for thy couch

this night, 215

And tend thee herself, with such counsel and deed as shall

seem her right?'

Quoth Gawain, 'That thyself mayst ask her; I will do as shall

please ye twain!'

Then the Duchess she spake in answer, 'He shall in my charge

remain.

Let this folk to their couch betake them, I will tend in such

sort his rest

That never a loving lady dealt better by gallant guest; 220

And the other twain, my princes, in the care of the knights

shall be,

Florand, and the Duke of Gowerzein, for so seemeth it good to

me.'

In short space the dance was ended, and the maidens in beauty

bright

Sat here and there, and between them sat many a gallant

knight;

And joy took her revenge on sorrow, and he who so sweetly

spake 225

Words of love, from his gentle lady must a gracious answer

take.

Then the host must they hear, as he bade them the cup to the

hall to bear,

And the wooers bemoaned his bidding; yet the host he wooed

with them here,

And he bare of his love the burden, and the sitting he deemed

too long,

For his heart by love's power was tortured with anguish so

fierce and strong. 230

And they drank the night-drink, and sadly to each other they

bade goodnight,

And the squires they must bear before them full many a taper

bright.

And the two gallant guests did Gawain commend to them each

and all,

And glad were the knights, and the heroes they led forth from

out the hall.

And the Duchess, with gracious kindness, wished fair rest to

the princes twain, 235

And then to their sleeping chambers forth wended the maiden

train,

And as their fair breeding bade them, at the parting they

curtseyed low:

Queen Sangivé and her fair daughters they too to their rest

would go.

Then Bené, the maid, and Arnivé, they wrought with a willing

hand

That the host he might sleep in comfort, nor the Duchess

aside did stand, 240

But she aided the twain, and Gawain was led of the helpers

three

To a chamber fair where his slumber that even should joyful

be.

Two couches alone did he see there, but no man to me hath

told

Of their decking, for other matters, I ween, doth this story

hold.

Quoth Arnivé unto the Duchess, 'Now, Lady, think thou how

best 245

This knight whom thou broughtest hither, shall beneath this

roof-tree rest,

If aid at thine hand he craveth, to grant it shall honour

thee;

No more would I say, save this only, his wounds they shall

bandaged be

With such skill he might bear his armour--But if he bemoan

his grief

Then methinks it were good and fitting that thou bring to his

woe relief. 250

If thou wakest anew his courage, then we all in his gladness

share--

Now think thou no ill of my counsel, but have for thy knight

good care!'

Then the Queen Arnivé left them, (yet leave had she craved

before,)

And Bené she bare the taper, and Gawain he made fast the

door.

If the twain to their love gave hearing? The tale how should

I withhold, 255

I would speak, were it not unseemly that love's secrets aloud

be told,

For courtesy doth forbid it; and he who would tell the tale

Worketh ill to himself, o'er love's dealings true hands ever

draw the veil.

Now betwixt his love and his lady had the joy of Gawain waxed

small,

An the Duchess would have no pity, then healing might ne'er

befall. 260

They who sat in the seat of the wise men, and knew many a

mystic word,

Kancor, and Thèbit, and Trebuchet, the smith who Frimutel's

sword

Once wrought, ('twas a wondrous weapon, and men of its

marvels tell)--

Nay, all the skill of physicians, tho' they meant to the hero

well

And plied him with roots well mingled--Had a _woman_ ne'er

sought his side, 265

Then vain were their skill, in his torment methinks had he

surely died!

Fain would I make short the story, he the rightful root had

found

That helped him unto his healing, and the chain of his grief

unbound,

And brought light in the midst of his darkness--(Breton by

his mother's side

Was Gawain, and King Lot his father) thus the healing task he

plied, 270

And sweet balsam for bitter sorrow was his lot till the dawn

of day.

Yet that which had wrought him comfort it was hid from the

folk alway,

But all there, both knights and ladies, they beheld him so

gay and glad

That their sorrow was put far from them and their heart was

no longer sad.

Now list how he did the message whom Gawain he had sent afar, 275

Yea unto the land of Löver, unto Bems by the fair Korka,

For there he abode, King Arthur, and his lady, the gracious

queen,

With fair maids and a host of vassals; this the lot of the

squire had been.

'Twas yet in the early morning, when his message he fain had

brought,

And the queen, in the chapel kneeling, on the page of her

psalter thought; 280

Then the squire bent his knee before her, and he gave her a

token fair,

For she took from his hand a letter, and the cover must

writing bear

That was writ by a hand she knew well, ere yet she the name

might know,

From the squire, of him who had sent him, as she looked on

him kneeling low.

Then the queen she spake to the letter, 'Now blessed that

hand shall be 285

That wrote thee; for care was my portion since the day that

mine eyes might see

The hand that hath writ this writing'--She wept, yet for joy

was fain,

And she quoth to the squire, 'Of a surety thy master shall be

Gawain!'

'Yea, Lady, he truly offers true service as aye of yore,

With never a thought of wavering, yet his joy it shall suffer

sore, 290

If so be thou wilt not upraise it; and never it stood so ill

With his honour as now it standeth--And more would he tell

thee still,

In joy shall he live henceforward if comfort he gain from

thee;

And I wot that yet more shall be written than what thou hast

heard from me.'

Then she quoth, 'I have truly read there the cause that hath

brought thee here, 295

And service I think to do him with many a woman dear,

Who to-day shall I ween be reckoned to have won to them

beauty's prize--

Save Parzival's wife and another, Orgelusé, in all men's

eyes,

Thro' Christendom none shall be fairer--Since far from King

Arthur's court

Gawain rode, sore grief and sorrow have made of my life their

sport. 300

And Meljanz de Lys hath told me he saw him in Barbigöl--

Alas!' quoth the queen, 'that ever mine eyes saw thee,

Plimizöl!

What sorrow did there befall me! Since that day might I never

greet

Kunnewaare of Lalande, she hath left me, my friend and

companion sweet.

And the right of the good Round Table was broken by words of

scorn, 305

And four years and a half and six weeks have left us, I ween,

forlorn,

Since the Grail Parzival rode seeking; and after him rode

Gawain

To Askalon--Nor Jeschuté nor Hekuba come again

Since the day that they parted from me, and grief for my

friends so true

Hath driven my peace far from me, nor joy since that day I

knew!' 310

And the queen spake much of her sorrow: then the squire would

her counsel know,

'Now do thou in this my bidding, in secret thou hence shalt

go,

And wait till the sun be higher, and the folk all at court

shall be,

Knights, servants, and gentle ladies, and vassals of all

degree;

And then to the court ride swiftly, nor think who shall hold

thy steed, 315

But spring from its back, and hasten where the king shall thy

coming heed.

They will ask of thee news of venture, but thou, do thou act

and speak

As one who from peril flieth, whom the flames would devouring

seek,

And they may not prevail to hold thee, nor win from thy lips

the tale,

But press thou thro' them to the monarch, and to greet thee

he will not fail. 320

Then give to his hand the letter, and swiftly from it he'll

read

Thy tale, and thy lord's desiring; I doubt not the prayer

he'll heed!'

'And this will I further rede thee, make thou thy request to

me

Where I sit, and, amid my ladies, thy dealings may hear and

see;

And beseech us, as well thou knowest, for thy lord wouldst

thou hearing gain. 325

But say, for as yet I know not, where abideth the knight

Gawain?'

'Nay,' quoth the squire, 'I may not, ask not where my lord

doth dwell,

But think, an thou wilt, that good fortune is his, and he

fareth well!'

Then glad was the squire of her counsel, and he took from the

queen his way

In such wise as ye here have hearkened, and he came, e'en as

she did say. 330

For e'en at the hour of noontide, not in secret but openly

He came to the court, and the courtiers his garments eyed

curiously,

And they thought that they well beseemed him, and were such

as a squire should wear,

And his horse on each flank was wounded, where the spurs they

had smitten fair.

And, e'en as the queen had taught him, he sprang straightway

unto the ground, 335

And a crowd of eager courtiers pressed, thronging, his steed

around.

Mantle, sword, and spurs, e'en his charger might be lost, he

would little care

But he gat thro' the crowd to the heroes, and the knights

they besought him there,

Brought he news of some gallant venture? For the custom was

aye of yore,

That they ate not, nor man nor maiden, save unto the court

they bore 340

The news of some deed of knighthood, and the court might

claim its right,

If so be 'twas a worthy venture, and one that beseemed a

knight.

Quoth the squire, 'Nay, I naught may tell ye, for my haste

doth not brook delay,

Of your courtesy then forgive me, and lead to the king the

way,

For 'tis meet that I first speak with him, and mine haste it

doth work me ill; 345

But my tale shall ye hear, and God teach ye to aid me with

right goodwill!'

And so did his message urge him he thought not on the

thronging crowd,

Till the eyes of the king beheld him, and greeting he spake

aloud.

Then he gave to his hand the letter that bade to King

Arthur's heart,

As he read it, two guests, joy and sorrow, alike there the

twain had part 350

And he spake, 'Hail! the fair day's dawning, by whose light I

have read this word,

And of thee, O son of my sister, true tidings at last have

heard!

If in manhood I may but serve thee as kinsman and friend, if

faith

Ever ruled my heart, 'twill be open to the word that Sir

Gawain saith!'

Then he spake to the squire, 'Now tell me if Sir Gawain be

glad at heart?' 355

'Yea, sire, at thy will, with the joyful I ween shall he have

his part,'

(And thus quoth the squire in his wisdom,) 'yet his honour he

sure shall lose,

And no man fresh joy may give him, if thine aid thou shalt

here refuse.

At thy succour his gladness waxeth, and from out of dark

sorrow's door

Shall grief from his heart be banished, if thou hearken his

need so sore. 360

As of yore doth he offer service to the queen, and it is his

will

That the knights of the good Round Table as their comrade

account him still,

And think on their faith, nor let him be 'spoiled of his

honour's meed,

But pray thee his cry to hearken, and make to his aid good

speed!'

Quoth King Arthur, 'Dear friend and comrade, bear this letter

unto the queen, 365

Let her read therein, and tell us why our portion hath

twofold been,

And at one while we joy and we sorrow. How King Gramoflanz is

fain

In the pride of his heart, and his malice, to work ill to my

knight, Gawain;

He thinketh for sure that my nephew shall be Eidegast, whom

he slew,

Thence grief hath he won; deeper sorrow I'ld teach him, and

customs new!' 370

Then the squire he would pass where a welcome so kindly he

did receive,

And he gave to the queen the letter, and many an eye must

grieve,

And with crystal tears run over, as with sweet lips she read

so clear

The words that within were written, and the need of Gawain

they hear,

And his prayer did she read before them; nor long would the

squire delay 375

With skill to entreat the ladies, and aid at their hand to

pray.

King Arthur, Sir Gawain's uncle, he wrought with a hearty

will

That his vassals might take the journey: nor did she abide

her still,

Guinevere, the wise and the courteous, for she prayed them

make no delay,

Her ladies, but bravely deck them, and get on their stately

way. 380

Quoth Kay aloud in his anger, 'If ever I dared believe

That so gallant a man as Gawain of Norway on earth should

live

I would cry to him, "Come thou nearer!" Fetch him swift, else

he swift will go,

As a squirrel away he flasheth, and is lost ere his place ye

know!'

To the queen quoth the squire, 'Now, Lady, my lord must I

swiftly seek, 385

His cause do I leave to thine honour!' To her chamberlain did

she speak,

'See thou that this squire doth rest well, and look well unto

his steed,

Is it hewn with spurs, find another, the best that shall

serve his need.

And what else beside shall fail him, for his dress, or lest

pledge he lose,

Make ready as he shall ask thee, and naught unto him refuse!' 390

And she quoth, 'Thou shalt say unto Gawain, I am ever to

serve him fain,

Thy leave from the king will I care for, he greeteth thy lord

again!'

Thus the king he was fain for the journey; and the feast it

might now be served,

Since the right of the good Round Table by this venture was

well observed;

And joy in their hearts awakened, since this gallant knight

Gawain 395

Should be yet in life, and true tidings they might of his

welfare gain.

And the knights of that noble order, that even were glad at

heart,

And there sat the king, and those others who had in the ring

their part,

And they sat and they ate with their monarch who fame by

their strife had won,

And the news of this gallant venture wrought joy to them

every one. 400

Now the squire might betake him homewards, since his errand

so well had sped,

He gat forth at the early dawning, ere the sun should be high

o'erhead,

And the queen's chamberlain he gave him a charger, and robes

beside,

And gold lest his pledge be forfeit, and glad on his way he

hied,

For had he not won from King Arthur what should end his

lord's sorrow sore? 405

And I know not the days of his journey, but in safety he came

once more

To Château Merveil; then joyful was Arnivé, for as she bade

The porter bare news of his coming, how his steed he no whit

had stayed,

But swiftly had done his errand. Then in secret she made her

way

To where by the castle drawbridge the squire did his charger

stay, 410

And she asked him much of his journey, and why he in haste

must ride?

Quoth the squire, ''Tis forbidden, Lady! my errand I needs

must hide,

An oath have I sworn of silence, and my lord he might well be

wroth

If to thee I should tell the tidings, for so should I break

mine oath,

And a fool would he surely hold me! Ask himself what thou

fain wouldst learn!' 415

Yet she strove still with many a question from his purpose

the squire to turn,

Then weary was he of her pleading, and in anger this word he

spake,

'Without cause dost thou here delay me, for I think not mine

oath to break!'

So he went where he found his master, and the Turkowit brave

Florand,

And Lischois, and the lady of Logrois, many ladies did with

them stand, 420

And the squire made his way to his master, and up stood the

knight Gawain,

And he took him aside, and welcome he bade him in joyful

strain,

'Now tell unto me, my comrade, the tidings thou here hast

brought,

If thy news be for joy or for sorrow, what speak they of me

at court?'

'And say, didst thou find King Arthur?' quoth the squire, 'My

master, yea, 425

The king, and the queen, and with them many brave knights I

saw alway,

And they offer to thee their service, and they will at thy

bidding come,

And they heard in such sort thy message, with such gladness,

that every one,

Rich and poor, as one man were joyful when I spake, thou wert

safe and well.

And the folk there were sure a marvel! Their number I may not

tell! 430

And the Table Round, by thy message, was spread for the feast

I ween;

And if knight e'er won fame by his valour, then I wot that

thy fame hath been

Far greater than all who hearkened to the words that I spake

of thee,

And it beareth the crown o'er all others, tho' mighty their

fame shall be!'

Then he told him all that befell there, how he spake with the

gracious queen, 435

And the counsel she gave unto him; and how he the folk had

seen,

Those brave knights and gentle ladies; how Gawain should

behold their face

At Ioflanz, before the combat, and the end of his day of

grace.

And the sorrow of Gawain vanished, yet his joy in his heart

he'ld hide,

Tho' from grief did he pass to gladness; yet the squire must

his oath abide 440

And yet for a space keep silence--Forgotten was all his care,

And thither he went, and he sat him again by his lady fair,

And with joy he abode in the castle till King Arthur to his

relief

Might come with his host--Now hearken to a story of love and

grief:

Gawain he was ever joyful; one morn did it so befall 445

That many a knight and lady were seen in that stately hall,

And Gawain sat apart in a window, and looked o'er the stream

so wide,

And with many a tale of wonder sat Arnivé the knight beside.

To the queen spake the gallant hero, 'Ah! hearken, my Lady

dear,

If my questions they shall not vex thee, do thou to my words

give ear 450

And tell me the wondrous story, which as yet shall be hid

from me--

That I live, and my life is joyful, I owe it to none but

thee;

Tho' my heart had the wit of manhood, yet the Duchess she

held it fast,

But thou in such wise hast helped me that my sorrow is

overpast;

Of my love, and my wounds had I died here, but with wisdom

thy helpful hand 455

Thou didst stretch to my aid, and hast loosed me for aye from

my sorrow's band.

I owe thee my life! My Lady of healing, now tell to me

The wonder that was, and the marvel that yet in this place

shall be.

Say, wherefore by mighty magic hath Klingsor this palace

made?

For surely my life had I lost here had thy wisdom not been

mine aid!' 460

Then out quoth the wise Arnivé, (and ne'er with such goodly

fame

Of womanly faith and wisdom fair youth unto old age came,)

'Sir Knight, these are but small marvels to the marvels his

cunning hand,

And his skill in hidden magic, have wrought in full many a

land.

He who counteth it shame unto us that into his power we fell, 465

He sinneth for sure! His doings, Sir Knight, I to thee will

tell.

Many folk, I ween, hath he troubled, his land is Terre de

Labûr:

From a wondrous race he springeth, whose marvels they aye

endure,

For Virgil was his forefather, in Naples his spells he

wrought:

And in this wise his nephew Klingsor was to shame and to

sorrow brought;' 470

'And the chief of his towns was Capua--such high fame was

his, I ween,

That never in praise or in honour methinks had he shamèd

been,

And all folk they spake of Duke Klingsor, and praised him,

both man and maid,

Till in this wise he won dishonour, and his glory to earth

was laid.

In Sicily reigned a monarch, King Ibert, his life was blest 475

With a fair wife, Iblis, none fairer e'er hung on a mother's

breast,

And Klingsor would do her service, till her love should be

his reward,

And in shame did he win his guerdon from the hand of her

rightful lord.'

'If here I must tell his secret, forgiveness I first must

pray,

For methinks it shall be a story that scarce fitteth my lips

to say; 480

With a stroke was he made magician, with the self-same stroke

unmanned'--

Then loudly he laughed, Sir Gawain, as the tale he must

understand.

'In Kalot Enbolot's castle he won him this lasting shame,

(I trow 'tis a mighty fortress, and far lands shall know its

fame,)

With his wife did the monarch find him, there lay Klingsor

within her arm, 485

And sorely must he repent him of his slumber so soft and

warm,

For the hand of the king avenged him in such wise as he

deemed his right;

And he left with his knife such token of shame on the traitor

knight

That henceforward the love of woman it rejoiceth him never

more!

And I wot well for his dishonour many folk shall have

suffered sore.' 490

'('Tis not in the land of Persia) in a city called Persida

Were magic spells first woven; it stands in a land afar,

And thither did Klingsor journey, and there did he learn such

skill,

That with secrets of magic cunning he worketh whate'er he

will.

For the ill that was wrought his body he beareth goodwill to

none, 495

But rejoiceth to work them evil, the more if they fame have

won.'

'E'en such peril beset one monarch--Irôt was, I ween, his

name,

And Rosch-Sabbins was his kingdom--At length to such pass he

came,

That he bade him to take of that country what he would, so he

peace would keep;

Then Klingsor he took of the monarch this mountain so high

and steep, 500

And the land for eight miles around it; on the summit did

Klingsor rear

The wonder-work thou seest, and this palace we look on here.

And there faileth nor worldly riches, nor marvel of magic

skill,

If for thirty years one besieged it, methinks 'twere

provisioned still.

And power doth he hold o'er all spirits, 'twixt the earth and

the heaven above, 505

Both evil and good, save those only whom God doth from his

power remove.'

'Sir Knight, since thy deadly peril thou hast passed, nor thy

death hast found,

He gives to thine hand his kingdom, this Burg, and the lands

around,

No claim doth he make upon it; and peace doth he promise

thee--

This he sware in the ears of his people, and a man of his

word is he, 510

That the knight who withstood the venture, this gift should

be his for aye.

And all who from Christendom's countries 'neath the spell of

his magic lay,

Be they woman, or man, or maiden, are thy vassals both one

and all,

And many from lands of paynim with us 'neath his power must

fall.

Let this folk then now get them homewards, where yet for our

loss they mourn, 515

For to dwell in the land of the stranger, it maketh my heart

forlorn

And He, who the stars hath counted, may He teach thee to give

us aid,

And turn once again to rejoicing those hearts that are sore

afraid!'

'A child was born of a mother, who its mother's mother shall

be;

For the ice it came of the water; when the sunlight shineth

free, 520

Then nothing I ween shall hinder that water from ice be

born--

Of my glad youth I often think me, tho' now I must weep

forlorn,

If my lot shall once more be joyful then the child from the

child shall spring.

And thou, art thou wise and courteous, methinks well mayst

work this thing!'

''Tis long since all joy forsook me! The skiff 'neath its

sail flies fast, 525

But the man who doth sail within it hath swifter his voyage

o'erpast.

If thou readest aright my riddle thy fame shall wax high and

fleet,

For our joy canst thou make to blossom, and our song to ring

clear and sweet.

And, bringers of joy, shall we journey into many a distant

land,

Where the folk weep sore for our losing, and shall greet us

with outstretched hand!' 530

'Of joy had I once full measure: a crownèd queen was I!

And my daughter amid her princes bare a crown too right

royally,

And all men they deemed us worthy--Sir Knight, I wrought ill

to none,

But alike, both man and maiden, from my hand due guerdon won.

And all men they knew, and they owned me one fit o'er the

folk to reign, 535

For I, so God gave me wisdom, ne'er brought to another pain.

Yet she who in gladness dwelleth, tho' a fair praise she

think to earn,

And the prayer of the poor she hearken, yet her joy to such

grief may turn

That a poor lad may make her joyful--Sir Knight, here

o'erlong I stay,

Yet there cometh no man who doth know me, and turneth my care

away!' 540

Then out quoth the gallant hero, 'Lady, if life be mine,

Then gladness shall be thy portion, nor shalt thou in exile

pine!'

Now this self-same day brought the coming of Arthur the

Breton king,

The son of the sad Arnivé, whom kinship and faith did bring;

And many a fair new banner Gawain from the castle saw, 545

And the field it was thick with the horsemen who near at his

summons draw.

On the road that wound hence from Logrois came many a

blazoned spear,

And Gawain, he was glad at their coming; for delay it oft

teacheth fear,

Who waiteth o'erlong for succour, he doubteth 'twill come too

late!

From such doubt had King Arthur freed him! Ah me! how he rode

in state! 550

Gawain, he would hold it secret, yet his eyes they were fain

to weep,

Little good had they been for cisterns, since the water they

failed to keep.

And for love must he weep, for Arthur such love had toward

him shown,

He had cherished him from his childhood, and had dealt with

him as his own;

And the twain they had never wavered, but their faith to each

other kept, 555

And nor falsehood nor thought of doubting betwixt their two

hearts had crept.

But Arnivé was 'ware of his weeping, and quoth, 'Now shalt

thou begin

To joy with the shout of rejoicing, thus comfort we all shall

win.

'Gainst sorrow shouldst thou defend thee--See the host that

now draweth nigh,

Methinks 'tis the Duchess' army, with their coming shall joy

wax high.' 560

Now many a tent and banner they saw wind across the plain,

But _one_ shield did they bear before them, and Arnivé beheld

again,

And she knew, as of yore, the blazon, and Isayé she called

the name

Of the knight, he should be king's marshal, and Uther

Pendragon came!

But the shield it was borne by another, graceful of limb and

tall, 565

And she said, 'He shall be _queen's_ marshal, and _Maurin_

his name they call.'

But little she knew, Arnivé, that dead were both king and

knight,

And Maurin, he held the office that afore was his father's

right.

To the bank in the meadow of conflict rode the host--They who

served the queen

Found a resting-place for the ladies, and a fair camp it was

I ween. 570

By the side of a swift, clear streamlet they set up the tents

so fair,

And, apart, many goodly circles for the king and his knights

prepare.

And methinks they had left behind them, wherever the host

must ride,

A mighty track of hoof-prints on the field and the roadways

wide!

Gawain, by the mouth of Bené, his host Plippalinòt prayed 575

To hold vessel and boat in safe keeping that no crossing that

day be made.

And the maid from the hand of Gawain took the first gift of

his rich store,

'Twas a swallow, the harp was costly, such as harpers in

England bore.

Then joyful, she sought her father, and Gawain, he gave

command

To shut fast the outer portals, since a host at the gate did

stand; 580

And old and young they listed the word that he courteous

spake:

'On the further side of the river an army its camp doth make,

And never, by land or by water, a mightier host I saw,

Would they fight, then I pray ye help me my knighthood to

prove once more!'

With one voice did they make the promise--Then they asked of

the Duchess fair, 585

If the host should be hers? But she answered, 'Believe me, of

all men there

I know neither shield nor bearer; perchance he who wrought me

ill

Hath entered my land, and thought him to bow Logrois unto his

will.

He hath found it right well defended! My people might well

defy,

From their tower and their battlements lofty, e'en such army

as here doth lie! 590

Hath he wrought there fresh deeds of knighthood, then King

Gramoflanz sure hath thought

To revenge himself for the garland that my knight from his

tree hath brought.

But whoever they be, I know well, they shall many a joust

have seen,

And many a spear at Logrois by mine army hath splintered

been.'

And never a lie had she spoken--For Arthur must peril face 595

As he rode thro' the land of Logrois; and many of Breton race

In knightly joust had fallen--But Arthur their ill repaid

In the self-same coin, and on both sides sore stress on the

host was laid.

Battle-weary, so came they hither of whom one full oft must

hear

That they sold their lives full dearly, and did never a

foeman fear. 600

And either side had suffered, both Garel and Gaherjet,

King Meljanz of Lys, and Iofreit, son of Idol, in durance set

Ere even the end of the Tourney--From Logrois they captive

bare

The Duke of Vermandois, Friam, and Count Richard, he of

Nevers,

Who naught but one spear had needed ere he against whom he

rode 605

Had fallen 'neath his stroke so mighty, and no man his joust

abode.

With his own hand King Arthur made him his captive, this

gallant knight;

Then, dauntless, they spurred them onward, and the armies

they met in fight,

And a forest, methinks, it cost them! For no man the jousts

might know

That were ridden, a rain of splinters fell thick at each

mighty blow; 610

And the Bretons, they bore them bravely 'gainst the Lady of

Logrois' host,

And Arthur himself the rear-guard would keep at sore

conflict's cost.

And in this wise they fought and they vexed them through the

hours of the livelong day,

Till the greater part of the army outwearied with conflict

lay.

And well might Gawain have told her, the Duchess, that to his

aid 615

They had ridden her land, then, I wot well, no strife had

their way delayed,

But he would that no lips should tell her till her own eye

the truth had seen--

Then he dealt as should well befit him had King Arthur his

foeman been,

And made ready to march against him with rich tents and

warlike gear.

And no man of them all repented that he came as a stranger

here, 620

For with open hand Sir Gawain his gifts upon all did shower

In such wise that ye might have deemed well he drew nigh to

his dying hour.

And servant, and knight, and lady, they looked on his gifts

so fair,

And all, with one mouth, they praised him who brought help in

their sore

despair;

And all, for his sake, were joyful--Then the hero he bade

prepare 625

Strong chargers, and well-trained palfreys, such as well

might a lady bear.

Nor the knights should be lacking armour--Strong squires in

coat of mail

Were ready to do his bidding, nor should one of their number

fail.

And in this wise he gave his orders, four knights he aside

did take:

His chamberlain one; and another, cup-bearer he fain would

make; 630

The third he would make his steward; and his marshal the

fourth should be,

For this was his prayer, and the four knights said 'Yea' to

him willingly.

At peace lay King Arthur's army, and no greeting did Gawain

send,

Yet I wot well it sorely grieved him! With the morning the

host did wend,

With the blast of many a trumpet, their way unto Ioflanz'

plain, 635

And the rear-guard was armed, yet no foeman did they find in

their path again.

Then Gawain took his office-bearers, and in this wise to them

he spake,

The marshal, he bade him straightway to Ioflanz his way to

take,

'There a camp of my own prepare me--The host that thou here

didst see

Shall unto that plain have ridden, and its lord will I name

to thee, 640

For 'tis well that thou too shouldst know him, he is Arthur,

my kinsman true,

In whose court and whose care from my childhood I unto my

manhood grew.

Now do this thing in which I trust thee, rule my journey in

such a wise,

With such riches and pomp, that my coming be stately in all

men's eyes;

But within the walls of this castle no word of the truth be

told-- 645

That the king for my sake cometh hither, this must thou for

secret hold!'

So did they as Gawain bade them, and Plippalinòt he found

Little space had he now for leisure, since his lord was on

journey bound.

For large and small his vessels, both boat and skiff, must

fare

O'er the water, and troops well armèd, ahorse and afoot they

bare. 650

And the marshal the squires and footmen on the track of the

Bretons led,

And hither and thither riding behind them the army sped.

And they bare with them, so 'twas told me, the tent that in

days of yore

Fair Iblis had sent to Klingsor, as pledge of the love she

bore.

By the sending of this love-token their secret to men was

told, 655

And the favour they bare each other in the days that have

waxen old.

And no cost had they spared who had wrought it, and no better

was ever seen

Save the tent of Eisenhart only--Then apart on the grass so

green

They set up the tent, and around it many others in goodly

ring,

And so great was the pomp and the riches that men deemed it a

wondrous thing. 660

And they spake before King Arthur that the marshal of Gawain

came,

And his lord the same day would follow, and encamp him upon

the plain.

'Twas the talk of all the vassals--Then Gawain, from

falsehood free,

Rode forth from his home and there followed a goodly company.

And their train was so richly ordered that marvels I here

might tell! 665

With church gear and chamber hangings the pack-steeds were

burdened well;

And some were with harness laden, and above the harness bare

Full many a crested helmet, and shield that was blazoned

fair.

And many a gallant war-horse was led by the bridle rein,

And behind them both knight and lady rode close in the

glittering train. 670

Would ye measure the length? a mile long, methinks, had it

stretched, and more,

And Sir Gawain, I ween, forgat not that a gallant knight

should draw

His rein by the side of each lady, and ever of love they

spake,

Or one scant of wit had deemed them! And in this wise the

road they take,

The Turkowit, brave Florand, for companion upon his way 675

Had the daughter of Queen Arnivé, Sangivé of Norroway,

And Lischois, who was ne'er unready, he rode at sweet

Kondrie's side,

And by Gawain the maid Itonjé, his sister, perforce must

ride.

At the same time the Queen Arnivé and the Duchess of fair

Logrois

Rode gaily the one by the other, for in such wise they made

their choice. 680

Beyond the camp of King Arthur the tents of Gawain they lay,

And they who were fain to reach them thro' the army must take

their way.

'Twas a sight for all men to gaze at! Ere the folk to their

journey's end

Might come, of a courteous custom, to do honour unto his

friend,

Gawain by the tent of Arthur bade the first maiden take her

stand, 685

Then the marshal so did his office that the second, to her

right hand,

And the third beside the second, should unto each other ride,

And none of them all delayed them--So made they a circle

wide,

Here the matrons, and there the maidens, and by each of them

rode a knight

Who would fain do the lady service, and would for her favours

fight. 690

And thus round the tent of the monarch stood the ladies, a

goodly ring,

And to Gawain, the rich in gladness, fair welcome would

Arthur bring.

To the ground sprang Gawain and Arnivé, and her daughters

with children twain,

The Lady of Logrois, and the heroes he o'erthrew on the

grassy plain,

Lischois and the gallant Florand; then unto those heroes

brave 695

Stepped Arthur from his pavilion, and a kindly welcome gave;

And the queen, she greeted Gawain, and she welcomed him and

his

Of true heart, and from many a lady, I ween, was there many a

kiss!

Quoth Arthur unto his nephew, 'Say, who shall thy comrades

be?'

Quoth Gawain, 'A kiss of greeting from my lady I fain would

see, 700

'Twere ill an she should refuse it, for noble are both I

ween.'

Then Florand and the Duke of Gowerzein were kissed by the

gracious queen.

Then into the tent they gat them, and to many the fair field

wide

Was as if it were full of maidens, so close stood they, side

by side.

Then not as the heavy-footed sprang Arthur upon his steed, 705

And he turned to the knights and the ladies in the ring with

a kindly heed,

And he rode from one to the other, and gracious the words he

spake,

From the lips of the king so kindly each one must his welcome

take.

For this was the will of Gawain that no man from hence should

ride

Till he himself rode with them, but courteous his coming

bide. 710

Then the king would dismount, and straightway he entered the

tent again,

And he sat him beside his nephew, and straitly he prayed

Gawain

To say who were these five ladies, whom hither the knight did

bring.

Then Gawain he looked on the eldest and he spake to the

Breton king,

'Didst thou know Uther Pendragon? 'Tis Arnivé, his queen and

wife, 715

And well mayst thou look upon her, from the twain didst thou

draw thy life.

And there standeth the Queen of Norway, and _I_ am the son

she bare,

And these twain they shall be my sisters; say, are they not

maidens fair?'

Ah! then once again they kissed them, and sorrow and joy were

seen

Of all those who looked upon them, from Love this their lot

had been; 720

And they laughed, and they cried together, and their lips

spake of joy and woe,

And I ween that with tears of gladness their bright eyes must

overflow.

Then Arthur he spake to Gawain, 'Nephew, unknown to me

Is the fifth of these lovely ladies, I prithee who may she

be?'

'The Duchess, is she, of Logrois,' quoth Gawain in his

courtesy, 725

'In her service have I come hither, and, so it was told to

me,

Thou thyself hast sought her dwelling, and how it rejoiced

thee there,

Thou canst without shame declare us, as a widower dost thou

fare.'

Quoth Arthur, 'She doth, as her captive, thy kinsman Gaherjet

hold,

And Garel, who in many a conflict hath shown h'm a hero bold; 730

From my very side was he taken, one charge had we made so

nigh

That almost we gained the portal, when lo! from the gate did

fly

Meljanz of Lys! How he battled! On high flew a banner white

And the host who fought beneath it took captive my gallant

knight.

And the banner it bare a blazon of crimson, a bleeding heart, 735

And right through the midst was it pierced by the shaft of a

sable dart,

As one who to death is smitten--'Lirivoin' was the battle-cry

Of the army who fought beneath it, and their hand did the

victory buy.

My nephew, Iofreit, was taken, and grief for his sake I

know--

Yestreen did I keep the rear-guard, and the chance it hath

worked me woe!' 740

Sore mourned the king for his sorrow--quoth the Duchess, with

courteous mien,

'Sire, I speak thee free of all shaming, I had greeted thee

not, I ween.

Thou mayst well have wrought me evil, tho' no wrong had I

done to thee,

And I would that God's wisdom teach thee that harm to make

good to me.

The knight to whose aid thou camest, if combat with me he

dared, 745

Hath found me, methinks, defenceless, with side to the foeman

bared.

If yet for such strife he lusteth, nor of conflict hath had

his fill,

With never a sword or a weapon I think to withstand him

still.'

Then Gawain, he quoth to King Arthur, 'Wilt thou that we fill

the plain

With knights? For we well can do so--I think me such grace to

gain 750

From the Duchess that all the captives from thine host she

will swiftly free,

And, many a new spear bearing, her knighthood we here may

see.'

'Yea, such were my will,' quoth Arthur; then the Duchess she

gave command,

And many a gallant hero she summoned from Logrois' land--

And I wot well a host so goodly the earth ne'er had seen

before-- 755

Then Gawain, he prayed leave of the monarch, he would to his

tent withdraw,

And the king's will was e'en as Gawain's, and all they who

hither rode

With the knight, they turned their bridles, and with him in

his camp abode.

And his tent was so rich and so goodly, as befitted a gallant

knight,

That afar from its costly trappings had poverty taken flight. 760

And there rode unto his pavilion full many whose hearts were

sore

For the weary days since he left them, and the love they to

Gawain bore.

And the wounds of Kay had been healèd since he jousted by

Plimizöl,

And he looked on the wealth of Gawain, and with envy his

heart was full,

And he quoth, 'Now, King Lot, his father, my monarch's near

of kin, 765

Ne'er thought with such pomp to shame us, nor a camp of his

own would win.'

(For ever did he bethink him how Gawain would no vengeance

take

On the knight who so sorely smote him, when his right arm in

joust he brake,)

'God worketh for _some_ His wonders,--Who gave Gawain this

woman folk?'

And the words they were scarce a friend's words that Kay in

his anger spoke. 770

Of the honour his friend hath won him the true knight is ever

glad,

But the faithless, aloud he crieth, and his heart ever waxeth

sad

When the heart of his friend rejoiceth, and he needs must his

gladness see.

Bliss and honour had fallen to Gawain; and, if one would more

favoured be,

I know not what thing he may wish for! Thus ever the evil

mind 775

Is with envy filled, while the brave man his comfort and joy

doth find

When honour shall seek his comrade, and shame from his face

doth flee--

Gawain ne'er forgat his knighthood, and from falsehood was

ever free;

And thus it was right and fitting that men on his bliss

should gaze,

And gladness and fair rejoicing henceforward should crown his

days. 780

In what wise for the folk that followed did the knight of

Norway care,

Alike for his knights and ladies? Not ill was, methinks,

their fare.

And Arthur and all his people they looked on King Lot's fair

son,

And I trow well they greatly marvelled at the riches his hand

had won.

Now the evening meal was ended, and 'twas time for the folk

to sleep, 785

And little I grudge their slumber! A guard thro' the night

they keep,

And lo! at the early morning, ere the dawning had waxed

to-day,

Came a folk in goodly armour, and the men of Logrois were

they.

And they read their helmet's token by the light of the waning

moon,

On this side lay the host of Arthur, and his camp had they

passed full soon, 790

And they came to the goodly circle where Gawain and his men

should lie--

And, methinks, who such gallant succour by the might of his

hand could buy

Were reckoned of men a hero! Then Gawain bade his Marshal

find

A place for the host to camp on, but, such was their leader's

mind,

He deemed it best that their circle apart from the rest

should be, 795

And 'twas even the hour of noontide ere all were lodged

fittingly.

Then Arthur, the noble monarch, a message would straightway

send;

Unto Rosche Sabbins, and the city, a squire on his way should

wend

To King Gramoflanz should he speak thus, 'Since conflict the

king doth pray,

And he lusteth to fight my nephew, the strife shall he not

delay, 800

For Sir Gawain is fain to meet him--But bid him to meet us

here,

As a gallant man do we know him, were he other, 'twould cost

him dear!'

And the messenger of King Arthur he rode on his errand fain--

Then forth, with Lischois and Sir Florand, rode the gallant

knight, Gawain,

And he prayed them to show them to him who from many a land

afar 805

Had ridden for love's high service, and had fought in his

lady's war.

And he met them and gave them greeting in such wise that the

heroes knew

Sir Gawain for courteous lover, and faithful knight and true.

With that again he left them, and in secret his way he sped,

And he gat him again to his chamber, and he armed him from

foot to head; 810

He would know if his wounds were healèd so that never a scar

should pain,

And his limbs would he test, since so many, both maiden and

man were fain

To look on the strife, had they wisdom they should see if his

dauntless hand

Might even to-day, as aforetime, the victor's crown command.

A squire did he bid to bring him his charger, Gringuljet, 815

And he sprang to the saddle lightly and the horse to a gallop

set.

He would try both himself and his charger, if ready for

strife the twain--

Ah! woe is me for his journey! so rode he upon the plain,

And so had his Fortune willed it, that a knight his bridle

drew

By the side of the river Sabbins, and ye know that knight so

true, 820

And a rock, men well might call him, for manhood and courage

high,

And no knight might stand before him, and falsehood his heart

did fly.

And yet so weak was his body that no burden it bare of wrong,

Yea, a hand's-breadth had been too heavy, and a finger-length

too long!

And, I ween, of this gallant hero of old time ye oft must

hear, 825

For my tale hath come to its root-tree, and draweth its goal

anear.

BOOK XIV

GRAMOFLANZ

ARGUMENT

BOOK XIV. tells how Parzival and Gawain met and, unknowing,

fought with

each other, how Gawain was defeated, and of Parzival's grief when

he

learnt with whom he had fought.

How the combat between Gawain and Gramoflanz was deferred till

the

morrow; and how Parzival was welcomed at the court of King

Arthur, and

admitted to the Brotherhood of the Round Table.

How Parzival, in Gawain's stead, fought with and overcame King

Gramoflanz, and how the latter sent messengers to King Arthur to

pray

that none but Gawain should fight against him. Of the grief of

Itonjé

when she learnt how her brother would fight with King Gramoflanz,

and

how she prayed the aid of King Arthur.

How Arthur and Brandelidelein made peace between the Duchess and

Gawain, and of the wedding feast that was held in the camp. Of

Parzival's sorrow and longing for his wife, and how ere the dawn

of day

he stole in secret from the court.

BOOK XIV

GRAMOFLANZ

If now the gallant Gawain a knightly joust would ride,

Tho' never I feared for his honour yet I fear what may now

betide.

And tho' dear be the other's safety yet never a doubt I know,

For he who in strife would face him an army had found for

foe.

O'er far seas, in the land of paynim, his helmet was

fashioned fair, 5

And ruby-red was his harness, and the trappings his charger

bare.

So rode he in search of adventure, and his shield it was

piercèd thro'--

He had plucked for his helm a garland, and the tree where the

garland grew

Was the tree that Gramoflanz guarded; and Gawain knew the

wreath again,

And he thought, did the king here wait him it were counted to

him for shame, 10

If hither for strife he had ridden then strife there perforce

must be,

Tho' alone were the twain, and no lady the fate of their

jousting see.

From Monsalväsch they came, the chargers, which each of the

knights bestrode,

And they spurred them alike to a gallop, and each 'gainst the

other rode,

On the dewy grass of the meadow, not the sand of the Tourney

ring, 15

Should the joust this morn be ridden; and I ween, as their

deeds I sing,

I had mourned for the harm of either--'Twas a fair joust they

rode that morn,

Of a race that fought fair and knightly was each gallant hero

born;

And little had been his winning, great his loss, who there

won the prize,

And ne'er had he ceased to mourn it, if he were in his

calling wise. 20

For faith had they pledged to each other, nor of old time,

nor yet to-day,

Had their love and their truth been wounded--Now hear how

they fought the fray:

Swiftly they rode, yet in such wise that each knight must

mourn his fate--

For kinsman and knightly brethren, in strength of foeman's

hate,

In strife had come together; and he who this joust should win 25

His joy were the pledge of sorrow, and his deed must he count

for sin--

And each right hand it smote so surely that the comrades and

foemen twain,

With horse and with goodly harness, fell prone on the grassy

plain.

And then in such wise they bear them, with their swords such

blows they smite,

That their shields are hewn and riven, and cloven in deadly

fight. 30

And the splinters of shields, and the grass blades, were

mingled upon the ground,

And far other the look of the meadow ere their strife had its

ending found;

And too long must they wait for a daysman--'twas early when

first they fought,

And the hours sped by, and no man an end to their conflict

brought,

And no man was there beside them--Will ye hear how, the

self-same day, 35

King Arthur's knights to the army of King Gramoflanz made

their way?

On a plain by the sea he camped him--On the one side of the

ground

Flowed the Sabbins, and over against it the Poinzacleins its

ending found.

And the plain it was strongly guarded; Rosche Sabbins the

citadel,

With towers and with walls deep-moated, defended the fourth

side well. 40

And the host on the plain lay stretching its length for a

mile and more,

And half a mile broad had they deemed it--As the messengers

toward it bore,

Many unknown knights rode forward, archers, squires, with

arms and spear,

And behind them, with waving banners, did the mighty host

draw near.

With ringing blasts of trumpet would the army leave the

plain, 45

That very morn to Ioflanz marched the monarch and all his

train.

And clear rung the ladies' bridles as they circled around the

king--

And, if I may tell the story, the tidings I fain would bring

Of those who had ridden hither, and camped on the sward so

green,

For Gramoflanz bade them hither, and his combat they fain had

seen. 50

If ye shall not before have heard it then here would I make

it known,

From Punt, the water-locked city, to his nephew's aid had

flown

Brandelidelein, and with him were six hundred ladies fair,

By the side of each lovely lady her knight must his armour

wear;

For knighthood and love would he serve her--Of Punturtois,

the gallant knights 55

Were fain for this stately journey, in sooth 'twas a noble

sight.

And there rode, an ye will believe me, Count Bernard of

Riviers,

Rich Narant had been his father, and left Uckerland to his

heir.

And in many a ship o'er the water had he brought so fair a

host

Of ladies, that none gainsaid him who would make of their

beauty boast. 60

Two hundred of them were maidens, and two hundred already

wed--

And if I have rightly counted 'neath his banner Count Bernard

led

Five hundred knights well proven, who with him had sailed the

sea,

And each well might face a foeman, and each should a hero be.

Thus King Gramoflanz would wreak vengeance in strife for the

broken tree, 65

For he deemed he should be the victor, and the folk should

his prowess see.

And the princes from out his kingdom, with many a valiant

knight,

And many a lovely lady, had come to behold the fight;

And a goodly folk were gathered--Now Arthur's men drew near,

And they looked upon the monarch, how they found him ye now

shall hear. 70

Of Palmât was the high seat 'neath him, and with silk was the

couch spread o'er,

And maidens, so fair and graceful, they knelt low the king

before,

And with iron hose they shod him; and high o'er the monarch's

head,

A silk, Ecidemon-woven, both broad and long, was spread,

On twelve spear-shafts tall was it lifted, from the sunlight

to be a shade-- 75

Then came the men of King Arthur, and this was the word they

said:

'Sire, King Arthur hath hither sent us, and ever hath he been

known

As one whom all men have honoured, and whom all shall as

victor own.

Yea, honour enow is his portion--And yet wouldst thou mar his

fame,

Since upon the son of his sister thou thinkest to bring this

shame! 80

And e'en had Sir Gawain wrought thee worse ill by far, I

ween,

That the fame of the great Round Table might here for a

shield have been.

For brotherhood all have sworn him who sit at that noble

board,

And stainless shall be their knighthood who own Arthur for

king and lord!

Quoth the king, 'The strife I sware him e'en to-day my hand

shall dare, 85

And Gawain to-day shall face me, if well or if ill he fare.

For this hath been truly told me, that King Arthur draweth

near

With his queen, and his host of warriors; I bid them welcome

here!

Tho' it may be the angry Duchess shall counsel him to mine

ill,

Yet hearken and heed, ye children, the strife shall be

foughten still. 90

For here have I many a follower, and hindered of none will

be,

What _one_ man can do unto me that bear I right joyfully!

And if now I should fear to face that to which I my pledge

have sworn,

Of Love's service and Love's rewarding henceforward were I

forlorn!

In her favour I found aforetime my life and my life's best

bliss-- 95

God knoweth how _he_ hath pleased her, she oweth me much for

this!--

And tho' ever I did disdain me to fight with one man alone,

Yet Gawain hath so bravely borne him that him as I my peer

I'll own.

And I think me I shame my manhood when such easy strife I

fight;

And yet have I fought, believe me, (ye can ask if it seem ye

right,) 100

With folk whom mine hand hath proven to be valiant men and

true,

But ne'er have I fought but _one_ man! No praise shall be

here my due,

From the lips of gracious women, tho' the victory be mine

to-day--

And greatly my heart rejoiceth that her bands have been reft

away

For whose sake I fight this conflict; so many a distant land 105

Are vassals unto King Arthur, and pay tribute unto his hand,

It may well be with him she cometh, for whose sake both joy

and pain

Unto death I would gladly suffer, if she be for my service

fain.

And what better fate can befall me than that this my fair lot

shall be,

That she looketh upon my service, and her eyes shall my

victory see!' 110

And near to the king sat Bené, nor her heart for the strife

did fail,

For full oft had she seen his valour, and she deemed he might

well prevail.

But yet had she known that Gawain was brother unto the maid,

And 'twas _he_ who now stood in peril, of a sooth had she

been dismayed.

A golden ring from Itonjé she brought him for token fair, 115

'Twas the same as her gallant brother did over the Sabbins

bear

O'er the Poinzacleins came Bené in a boat, and this word she

spake,

'From Château Merveil doth my lady, with the others, her

journey take.'

And she spake from the lips of Itonjé such steadfast words

and true,

That more, from the lips of a maiden, I ween never monarch

knew. 120

And she prayed him to think of her sorrow, since all gain did

she hold as naught

For the gain of his love, and his service was all that her

true heart sought.

And glad was the king at the tidings, yet would fight with

her brother still--

'Twere better I had no sister, such rewarding would please me

ill!

Then they bare unto him his harness, 'twas costly beyond

compare-- 125

No hero, by love constrainèd, who fought for love's guerdon

fair,

Were he Gamuret, or Galoes, or Killicrates, the valiant king,

Had better decked his body the love of a maid to win--

And no richer silk had been woven in Ipopotiticon,

Or brought from Kalomedenté, or the city of Akraton, 130

Or from far-off Agatyrsjenté, than the silk for his garment

wove--

Then he kissed the small ring golden, the pledge of Itonjé's

love,

For he knew her for true and faithful, and tho' peril upon

him pressed,

Yet the thought of her love and her longing would guard, as a

shield, his breast.

All armed was now the monarch; twelve maidens on palfreys

fair, 135

Each one a spear-shaft holding, the awning aloft would bear.

And the king, he rode beneath it, and its shadow was o'er his

head,

As on to the strife he craved for the gallant hero sped.

And on either side of the monarch there rode fair maidens

twain,

Tall and stately were they to look on, the noblest of all his

train. 140

The messengers of King Arthur no longer they made delay,

And, behold! they met with Gawain as they rode on their

homeward way,

And ne'er had they felt such sorrow, their voices they raised

on high,

And they cried aloud for his peril, and their love and their

loyalty.

For the strife had near found its ending, and victor was

Gawain's foe, 145

For his strength, it was more than Gawain's, and well-nigh

had he laid him low,

When the pages who rode towards them called loudly on

Gawain's name,

For well did they know the hero, and it grieved them to see

his shame.

Then he, who erewhile would fight him, of conflict would have

no more,

But he cast from his hand his weapon, and he cried, as he

wept full sore, 150

'Accursèd am I, and dishonoured, and all blessing from me

hath flown,

Since my luckless hand, unwitting, so sinful a strife hath

known.

Methinks it is too unseemly! yea, guilty am I alway,

And born 'neath a star of Ill Fortune, and forced from all

bliss to stray.

And the arms that to-day I carry are the same that of old I

bore, 155

For they are of Ill-luck the token, e'en to-day as they were

of yore.

Alas! that with gallant Gawain I have foughten so fierce a

fight,

'Tis _myself_ whom I here have vanquished, and my joy shall

have taken flight.

With the first blow I struck against him misfortune hath

reached my side,

And peace shall have sped far from me, and her face from my

face doth hide!' 160

And Gawain heard, and saw his sorrow, and he spake out right

wonderingly,

'Alas, Sir Knight, who art thou, who speakest thus well of

me?

If I might such words have hearkened the while I had strength

and power,

Then my honour had ne'er been forfeit, for the victory is

thine this hour!

And fain would I know how men call him with whom I shall find

my fame, 165

Since hereafter I needs must seek it, so tell me, I pray, thy

name--

For ever was I the victor when I fought with one man alone.'

'Yea, gladly my _name_ I'll tell thee who aforetime my _face_

hast known,

And true service I fain would do thee wherever such chance

befall,

For thy kinsman am I, and cousin, and men call me

_Parzival_!' 170

Then out quoth Gawain, 'So, 'tis fitting, here Folly her goal

hath found,

And her ways full straight hath she wroughten which aforetime

but crooked wound.

Here have two hearts, leal and faithful, their hate 'gainst

each other shown,

And thy hand which hath won the victory hath the twain of us

overthrown.

And for _both_ of us shalt thou sorrow, for thyself by

thyself laid low, 175

And the thought it shall surely grieve thee if thy true heart

true faith doth know!'

Then, e'en as the words were spoken, no longer the knight

Gawain

Might stand for very weakness, for the blows they had dulled

his brain,

And his footsteps they failed and faltered, and prone on the

grass he lay--

Then down sprang the squire of King Arthur, and aid did he

bring straightway, 180

For he lifted his head, and from off it he loosened the

helmet's band,

With his head-gear of peacock's feathers the face of Gawain

he fanned

Till his care new strength had brought him--Now on to the

field did ride,

From the armies twain, much people, they flocked hither from

either side.

And each one would seek his station, for here should the

fight be fought, 185

And the lists, they were set with tree-trunks, each smooth as

a mirror wrought.

Gramoflanz the cost had given, since from him had the

challenge come,

A hundred in all the tree-trunks, and brightly they shone

each one.

And no man should come within them, and the place between was

wide,

Full forty lengths from each other stood the fifty on either

side, 190

Each blazoned with many colours; and here should the combat

be;

And on either side the army from the strife should hold them

free.

As by moat and rampart sundered, so should they in peace

remain,

In this wise they sware, the foemen, King Gramoflanz and

Gawain.

To this combat, by none awaited, came the folk from either

side, 195

At the self-same hour, fain were they to know what should

there betide,

For they marvelled much who had fought here, and had shown

such knightly skill;

Or who should such strife have challenged, for alone was it

foughten still,

And neither side their comrades had bidden unto the ring,

But alone had each knight come hither, and men deemed it a

wondrous thing. 200

But now as the fight was foughten on the flower-besprinkled

plain,

Came King Gramoflanz, to wreak vengeance for the garland upon

Gawain;

And he heard what thing had chanced there, that so fierce the

fight had been

That never a fiercer conflict with sword might a man have

seen,

And the twain who fought together had never a cause to

fight-- 205

Then the king, from out his army, rode straight to the

gallant knights;

And he found them battle-weary, and much he mourned their

pain;

Tho' scarcely his strength might bear him, up-sprang the

knight Gawain,

And the twain they stood together--Now Bené rode with the

king,

And with him, as the strife was ended, she came to the

battle-ring, 210

And she saw Gawain all powerless, whom, for honour and fair

renown,

O'er all the world had she chosen to crown with joy's fairest

crown.

With a cry of heartfelt sorrow from her palfrey the maiden

sprung,

And she spake, as her arms around him in a close embrace she

flung,

'Accurst be the hand that such sorrow on so fair a form hath

brought, 215

For in sooth all manly beauty its mirror in thee hath

sought!'

On the sward did she bid him seat him, and, the while that

she wept full sore,

With tender hand from his eyelids she wiped the sweat and

gore;

And heavy and hot his harness--Then Gramoflanz quoth again,

'In sooth must I grieve for thy sorrow, since my hand wrought

it not, Gawain; 220

If to-morrow again thou comest, and wilt meet me upon this

field,

Then gladly will I await thee, and will face thee with spear

and shield.

_Now_ as lief would I fight with a woman as with thee, who

art brought so low,

For how shall I win me honour if strength shall have failed

my foe?

Go, rest thee to-day, for 'tis needful, and then wouldst thou

take the place 225

Of thy father, King Lot, I am ready to meet thee here, face

to face.'

But Parzival stood unwearied, nor as yet a sign he bare

Of pallor, nor strength had failed him, and he faced the

monarch fair,

And he loosed from his head the helmet, that the king his

face might see,

And he spake, 'Sir, if this my cousin in aught shall have

wrongèd thee 230

Then take _me_ as his pledge, unwearied, as thou seest, is

yet mine hand,

And the wrath thou dost bear against him I may well with my

sword withstand.'

Then spake the King of Rosche Sabbins, 'Sir Knight, at the

morrow's morn

For my garland he payeth tribute, and its fame shall anew be

born,

Or to such a pass shall he bring me that shame shall my

portion be-- 235

Thou mayst otherwise be a hero, but this conflict is not for

_thee_!'

In wrath spake the lips of Bené, 'Fie on thee! thou faithless

hound,

Thro' him whom thy false heart hateth thine heart hath its

freedom found.

She to whom thou wouldst do love-service, she liveth at his

command,

Thyself hast renounced the victory which else might have

crowned thine hand. 240

Thou hast no claim on Love's rewarding, and if ever within

thine heart

Love had for awhile her dwelling with falsehood she bare a

part!'

As thus she waxed full wrathful, Gramoflanz led the maid

aside,

And quoth,'Now, Lady, grieve not, this strife must needs

betide.

But stay thou here with thy master, and say to his sister

sweet 245

That I am in truth her servant, in all that a knight finds

meet.'

But now as Bené hearkened, and knew of a truth Gawain

Was brother unto her lady, and must fight on the grassy

plain,

Then drave griefs plough its furrows thro' her heart, both

deep and sore,

And filled them with flood of sorrow, for truth in her heart

she bore. 250

And she quoth, 'Ride hence, accursèd, thou false and

faithless one,

For steadfast love and loyal thine heart hath never won!'

The king and his knights they rode hence, and the lads of

Arthur's train

They took the heroes' chargers, weary with strife the twain.

Then Parzival, and Gawain, and Bené, that maiden bright, 255

They rode to the camp of King Arthur with many a gallant

knight.

And Parzival in manhood had so borne the prize away

That all men were glad at his coming, and rejoiced in his

fame that day.

And more, if I can, would I tell ye--the wise men of either

host

Spake but of this man, of his valour in this wise they made

their boast, 260

'Wot ye well who hath here been victor? 'Twas Parzival, he

alone!'

And so fair was his face to look on none fairer was ever

known.

So thought they who looked upon him, and they swear it, both

man and maid--

So he came to the tent of Gawain; and little his host

delayed,

But he bade them bring costly raiment, and rich as was his

own gear, 265

And alike were they clad, the heroes, and all folk must the

marvel hear

That Parzival came among them, of whose glory all men had

heard,

And the fame of his deeds so knightly, and no mouth but spake

this word.

Quoth Gawain, 'Art thou fain to look on four queens who are

kin to thee,

And other fair ladies with them, then thy guide will I gladly

be.' 270

Quoth Gamuret's son, 'If fair ladies be here thou shalt vex

them not

With the sight of my face, for no kindness from woman shall

be my lot

Since by Plimizöl's bank they hearkened to the shame that

upon me fell:

May their honour of God be guarded, for ever I wish them

well,

But my shame weigheth heavy on me, and it vexeth so sore my

heart, 275

I were fain ne'er to look on woman, but live me a life apart'

'Yet so must it be,' quoth Gawain; then Parzival he led

To the four queens, who gave him greeting and kissed him with

lips so red.

But sorely it vexed the Duchess, that she, too, must kiss

this knight,

Who little had cared for her kisses, nor would for her

favours fight-- 280

Tho' her lands and her love she proffered when he before

Logrois fought,

And she rode far to overtake him--thus shame in her anger

wrought.

But the others they spake him gently, with never a thought of

wrong,

Till shame from his heart was driven, and joy in its stead

waxed strong.

Then Gawain of right and reason, if Bené his grace would

hold, 285

Bade her seal her lips to silence, to her lady no word be

told,

'That King Gramoflanz for his garland doth hatred toward me

bear,

And at the set time to-morrow our strife must be foughten

fair,

Speak no word of this to my sister, and do thou thy tears

give o'er;'

And she spake, 'I do well to weep thus, and to mourn, and to

sorrow sore, 290

For whoever shall fall in the combat my lady must sorrow

know,

And however the battle goeth, the issue shall be for woe.

And well may we mourn the venture, my lady and I alike,

What boots it to be her brother, if thou at her heart wilt

strike?'

Now the host to their tents betook them, and the mid-day meal

was spread 295

For Gawain, and the knights and ladies who should break at

his table bread,

And Parzival as companion should have the Duchess fair--

And Gawain, he besought his lady for the hero to have good

care;

But she quoth, 'To my care dost thou give him, who can make

of a woman sport?

How should I care for this man? Yet would I gainsay thee

naught; 300

And if this be thy will, I will do it, tho' for payment I

mocking know'--

Quoth Gamuret's son, 'Nay, Lady, thou doest me wrong I trow,

At least have I so much wisdom, if I know myself aright,

That women are free from my mocking, since ill 'twould beseem

a knight!'

Whatever they set before them no lack had they there of meat, 305

And courteous was their service, and with joy all the folk

did eat.

But Itonjé, she looked on Bené, and she read in her eyes the

tale

Of the tears she had wept but lately, and for sorrow her

cheeks grew pale,

And nothing she ate, for she thought still, 'Now wherefore

doth Bené weep?

For I sent her but now to the monarch who my heart doth his

captive keep, 310

And for whose sake I grieve me sorely--Have I done aught to

vex my knight?

Doth he think to renounce my service and no more for my love

to fight?

If, with steadfast heart and manly, he thinketh on me no

more,

Poor maid, I must die of sorrow, and the love that to him I

bore!'

The noontide hour was over ere the feast had ended here, 315

Then hither rode King Arthur, and his queen, fair Guinevere,

With a host of knights and ladies, to where, within their

sight,

Mid the band of gracious maidens sat that true and valiant

knight;

And to Parzival such greeting and such welcome fair they gave

That from many sweet lips sweet kisses he won, that hero

brave! 320

And Arthur would do him honour, and with many a gracious word

He thanked him for the valour that had spread his name

abroad,

And the fame that had waxed so goodly, and that stood so high

and fair,

That of right o'er all men living the crown of worth he bare.

Quoth the Waleis unto King Arthur, 'Yet Sire, when I saw thee

last 325

My honour so sore was wounded that it well-nigh to earth was

cast;

And in knighthood I paid such forfeit that of knighthood was

I forlorn--

But now have I hearkened to thee, and if thou be not forsworn

Then honour still dwelleth with me, tho' my heart it misgives

me sore!

I would trust in thy word right gladly--But what of these

knights who swore 330

True friendship and brotherhood with me, and from whom I must

part in shame?'

Then all with one voice they spake there--He had won for

himself such fame

And had wrought such brave deeds of knighthood in many a

distant land,

That his fame o'er the fame of all others did high and

unspotted stand.

Then the knights of the Duchess' army they came where by

Arthur's side 335

Sat Parzival, fair to look on, 'mid the knightly circle wide.

And the king in the tent received them, but so courtly was he

and wise,

That, tho' wide was the tent of Gawain, he thought best that

in all men's eyes

He should sit without on the meadow, and the knights they

should sit around,

And strangers they were to each other who place in the circle

found. 340

Would ye know who was this and that one? The tale it were all

too long

If Christian I named and paynim--Who were Klingsor's warriors

strong;

Who were they who so well were armèd, and showed them such

men of might

When they rode from the city of Logrois, and would for their

Duchess fight;

Who had followed King Arthur hither--If each one, his land

and kin, 345

I named in their rightful order 'twere ill to the end to win!

But all men they spake together, there was none there like

Parzival,

For his face and his form so lovely many women might love him

well;

And nothing there failed unto him of aught that beseemed a

knight

Who beareth the crown of honour, and fighteth a goodly fight. 350

Then Gamuret's son upstood there, and he spake, 'Ye who shall

be here

Give counsel, and help me win that which my soul ever holdeth

dear;

A strange and a hidden wonder it drave me from out your

band--

Ye who brotherhood once have sworn me, and in friendship have

clasped my hand,

Now help me, by this your knighthood, mine honour to win

again!' 355

And gladly would Arthur grant him that for which his desire

was fain.

Then aside with few folk he stepped him, and straitly he

prayed this grace,

That the strife, at the hour appointed, he in Gawain's stead

might face,

'Right gladly will I defy him, King Gramoflanz, in his pride;

I brake from his tree this morning a bough ere I thence did

ride, 360

And for that he of need must fight me--For conflict I sought

his land,

And for nothing else came I hither but to fight with his

strong right hand.

I thought not I here should find thee, my cousin, it grieves

me sore,

For this king did I surely take thee, who never from strife

forbore.

Now let me, I prithee, fight him; if ever he know defeat 365

My hand shall such lesson teach him as he findeth not over

sweet!

They have given me back mine honour, and thy brother knight

am I,

And thy kinsman true, fair cousin, so grant to me, cousinly,

That this combat be mine--I swear thee for us twain will I

face the foe,

And there do such deeds of valour that all men shall my

manhood know!' 370

Quoth Gawain, 'In the court of King Arthur have I many a

brother dear,

And kinsman true, yet to no man may I grant what thou prayest

here.

My cause is so good, I think me, that Fate so shall rule the

fight

That I stand at the last the victor, tho' my foe be a man of

might.

God reward thee that thou, of thy kindness, this conflict for

me wouldst face, 375

But the day is not yet in its dawning when another may take

my place!'

Now Arthur the prayer had hearkened, of their speech he an

end would make,

Once more in the ring beside them his seat did the monarch

take.

And the cup-bearers did not tarry, the noble youths they bare

Many golden cups so precious, and wroughten with jewels fair, 380

Nor one alone could fill them--and when their task was o'er

The folk uprose, and gat them each one to his rest once more.

And night-fall had come upon them--Naught did Parzival delay,

But he wrought in such wise that his harness might be ready

ere break of day.

Were a strap or a fastening broken, of that did he have good

care, 385

And he bade them look well unto it, that all should be fit

and fair.

And a shield new and strong must they bring him, for his own,

in many a fight,

With many a blow was cloven, and they brought him a shield of

might;

And the serving-men who bare it, they knew not the knight, I

trow,

And Frenchmen were some among them, as the venture doth bid

ye know. 390

And the steed that erewhile to jousting the Knight of the

Grail must bear,

Of that did a squire bethink him, and ne'er might it better

fare.

But now 'twas the hour for slumber, and the night had

o'ercome the day,

And Parzival slept, and before him all ready his armour lay.

And King Gramoflanz, he rued it that the day such chance had

brought 395

That another man in his presence for the sake of his garland

fought;

Nor his folk might still his longing for the strife that the

morn should bring,

And the thought, that he had delayed him, full sorely it

vexed the king.

What, then, should the hero do here? Since honour he sought

and fame,

He scarce might await the dawning, and the strife that with

daylight came, 400

But ere sunrise himself and his charger were clad all in

harness rare--

Did women, with wealth o'erburdened, the cost of his decking

share?

I wot that, without their aiding, it costly and fair should

be,

For the sake of a maid did he deck him, in her service no

laggard he!

So he rode hence to seek his foeman, and sorely it vexed the

king 405

That the early light of the morning Sir Gawain had failed to

bring.

Now, unknown unto all, in secret stole Parzival from the

court,

And he stripped of its floating pennon a strong spear from

Angram brought;

And fully armed was the hero, and lonely he took his way

Where the posts round the ring of battle shone fair in the

dawning day. 410

And he saw the king await him, and ere ever a word they spake

Men say that they smote each other thro' the shield, and the

spear-shafts brake;

And from either hand the splinters flew high in the summer

air,

For skilled were they both in jousting, and their swords they

right well might bear.

And the dew was brushed from the meadow, and the helmets felt

many a blow 415

From the edge of the blades keen-tempered, no faltering might

either know.

And the grass underfoot was trodden, and the dew-drops in

many a place

Swept away, and I needs must mourn here the red blossoms'

vanished grace.

Yet more do I mourn for the heroes, and their toil without

thought of fear,

And who with unmixed rejoicing, the tale of their strife

should hear 420

To whom they had ne'er done evil?--Then Gawain must himself

prepare

For the toil and the stress of battle, and the peril he

thought to dare.

And 'twas even the midst of the morning ere of all men the

tale was told

From his tent was Parzival missing, and they sought for the

hero bold.

Did he think to make peace? Nay, his bearing spake little,

methinks, of peace, 425

For he fought as a man, and 'twas noontide ere ever the

strife might cease.

A bishop sang Mass for Gawain, and the folk they stood thick

around,

And many a knight and lady on horseback might there be found,

Without the tent of King Arthur, ere the Mass to an end they

sing--

While the priest did his holy office, beside him there stood

the king; 430

When he spake the Benediction, then Gawain armed himself for

fight,

And greaves of iron, well wroughten, they did on his limbs of

might.

Then uprose a voice of wailing from the women, and one and

all

The host rode forth to the meadow; and lo! there did strife

befall,

And they heard the clash of the sword-blades, and they saw

the fire-sparks fly 435

From the helmets as there the foemen their blows with fierce

strength did ply.

King Gramoflanz oft had boasted he would scorn with _one_ man

to fight,

He thought here that _six_ were his foemen, and each one a

valiant knight

Yet none but Parzival faced him, and he fought in such

gallant wise,

That he taught to the king a lesson which men e'en to-day may

prize; 440

That in his own praise his own lips should speak never more

this tale,

He could fight and could conquer _two_ men, since o'er _one_

he might not prevail.

From left and from right came the armies, o'er the grassy

plain so wide,

And, each one their station keeping, they halted on either

side,

And they looked on the mighty combat, on one side the

chargers stood, 445

And afoot on the ground they battled with sword-blades, the

heroes good.

And sharp and sore was the conflict, and steadfast the twain

did stand,

And their swords on high they tossed them, and oft did the

blades change hands.

Now Gramoflanz reaped sore payment for the garland from off

his tree,

To the kinsman of his fair lady should the strife none too

easy be. 450

His kinship with fair Itonjé had stood Parzival in good

stead,

If right might have claimed a hearing, yet was not his strife

ill-sped.

And they who much fame had won them, again for fair fame

would fight;

And one strove for the sake of his kinsman, and one for his

lady bright,

For he did but Frau Minne's bidding, as was meet for her

vassal true-- 455

Now uprode the gallant Gawain, and e'en as he nearer drew

The conflict was nigh its ending, and the Waleis should

victor be;

And, bareheaded, unto the battle, there hastened those heroes

three,

Brandelidelein of Punturtois, and Count Bernard of Riviers,

And the third knight who rode beside them was Affinamus of

Clitiers. 460

From the army over against them came King Arthur beside

Gawain,

To the two knights, with battle wearied, they rode o'er the

grassy plain;

And all the five they thought them 'twas time that the strife

should end,

And Gramoflanz must confess here that no longer he might

contend,

And his own mouth proclaimed him vanquished, and his foeman

had won the day-- 465

And the folk who had seen the combat might never his word

gainsay!

Then out spake King Lot's son gaily, 'Sir King, I will speak

to thee

To-day, as yestreen thou spakest when rest thou didst bid to

_me_

"_Go rest thee to-day, for 'tis needful_," he who conflict

did here demand,

He will own thou art all too feeble this day to resist mine

hand. 470

_Alone_ I might well have faced thee, but thou with but _two_

wilt fight!

To-morrow I'll dare the venture, and may God show forth the

right!'

Then the king he rode to his army, but first must he pledge

his word

He would meet Gawain on the morrow, and face him with spear

and sword.

To Parzival quoth King Arthur, 'Nephew, thou late didst pray, 475

Of thy manhood, to fight this combat for Gawain, and he said

thee Nay,

And therein didst thou sore lament thee, and yet thou this

fight hast fought

For him who did strait forbid thee! Of our will hast thou

asked us naught.

From our court, as a thief, hast thou stolen, or else had we

held thine hand

Afar from this strife, I wot well thou didst fight not at

_our_ command! 480

Yet Gawain, he shall not be wrathful, tho' great praise be

for this thy meed.'--

Quoth Gawain, 'Nay, it nothing grieves me, my cousin's

gallant deed,

To-morrow is all too early if this combat I needs must face,

An the king would withdraw his challenge I would count it to

him for grace.'

To the camp rode the mighty army, there were many ladies

fair, 485

And many a knight in armour, and costly the arms they bare.

And I ween that never an army was so richly decked before,

For the knights of the good Round Table, and the men of the

Duchess wore

Fair surcoats richly blazoned, of silk from Zinidunt,

And bright was their outer garments, and brought from far

Pelpiunt. 490

But the heroes in either army spake ever of Parzival,

And their lips, in such wise they praised him, that his

friends it rejoiced them well.

And the men of Gramoflanz spake thus, that never the sun had

shone

On a knight who fought so bravely, or such gallant deeds had

done;

And whatever feats of knighthood had been wrought on either

side, 495

Yet he, o'er all other heroes, the victor should still abide.

Yet they knew not of whom they spake thus, nay, neither his

race or name,

Tho' the army it rang with his praises, and no mouth but

declared his fame.

Then Gramoflanz did they counsel, King Arthur he well might

pray

To take good heed to his army that no knight from his ranks

should stray 500

For combat, as e'en that morning, but to send unto him _one_

knight,

The son of King Lot, Sir Gawain, for with _him_ had he come

to fight.

And straightway he sent the message by two courtly lads and

wise,

And he spake, 'Now look well for the maiden who is fairest in

all men's eyes,

Look well by whom Bené sitteth; and so ye play well your

part, 505

Ye shall see in what wise she bear her, if joyful, or sad at

heart.

Ye shall prove these her ways in secret, in her eyes ye right

well may see

If yet for a friend she mourneth; and this too your task

shall be,

Ye shall give to my friend, fair Bené, this letter and golden

ring,

She knoweth for whom is the token--Now see that ye do this

thing!' 510

In the other camp, the meanwhile, did Itonjé the tidings hear

That her gallant brother, Gawain, and he whom her soul held

dear,

The fairest knight that a maiden within her heart might hold,

Would fight, the one with the other, and their hand might no

man withhold.

Then her maiden shame it yielded to the flood of her grief so

sore, 515

And none shall rejoice at her sorrow, for the pain undeserved

she bore.

Then her mother and Queen Arnivé they led the maid aside

To a tent so small and silken, and Arnivé her grief would

chide,

And she bade her cease her weeping--There was naught that the

maid might say,

But to speak aloud the secret she hid in her heart alway; 520

Then out quoth the royal maiden, 'Of my brother shall he be

slain

Who is lord of my heart and my true love! Let his hand from

such deed refrain!'

To a noble youth spake Arnivé, 'Now get thee unto my son,

And bid him come hither quickly, with him would I speak

alone.'

Then the lad he brought King Arthur--Now this was Arnivé's

mind, 525

If she told unto him the story perchance he might counsel

find,

And by him should that strife be hindered, for which the

maiden fair

So sorely wept, and such sorrow and anguish of heart must

bear.

Now they came to the camp of King Arthur, who Gramoflanz'

message bore,

By the silken tent they dismounted; there sat Bené before the

door, 530

And within spake the maid to King Arthur, 'If my brother

shall slay my king

To pleasure his faithless Duchess, doth he deem that shall

honour bring?

He might know of himself it were ill-done--He hath wronged

him no whit I ween,

That he doeth to _me_ true service, his safety might well

have been!

If my brother be yet in his senses he doth of our true love

know, 535

How pure it is, and how faithful, and this venture should

work him woe.

A bitter death shall it bring me, the hand that my love doth

kill--

Sir King, thou shalt mourn my sorrow, and I think not that

such thy will,'

Spake the fair maid unto King Arthur, 'Forget not that thou

shalt be

Mine uncle, and stay this combat which worketh such ill to

me!' 540

Quoth Arthur aloud in his wisdom, 'Alas, thou fair niece of

mine,

That thus young thou canst love so dearly, for sorrow shall

sure be thine,

As sorrow befell thy sister, Surdamur, for her love so true

To the Emperor of Greece--Sweet maiden, thy will might I

surely do,

And hinder this strife, if I knew well that ye twain were but

one in heart-- 540

Yet King Irot's son, he is valiant, and courage in him hath

part,

And this combat he'll fight, full surely, an Love stay not

his hand so bold--

Did he ne'er, in a joyful moment, thy fair face and sweet

lips behold?'

And she spake, 'Nay, we love, but neither as yet hath the

other seen,

Tho' of true love many a token from his hand hath my portion

been. 550

And tokens true have I sent him, that no doubt should betwixt

us lie--

No falsehood my king's heart ruleth, but he loveth me

steadfastly!'

Then the maiden Bené saw them, and knew them, the squires

twain

Who came to the court of King Arthur from Gramoflanz' kingly

train,

And she spake, 'Here should no man linger, will ye that I bid

them go, 555

The folk, from our tent? It were ill-done, methinks, that all

men should know

How sorely my lady sorroweth for the sake of her love so

dear;

Methinks it might lightly happen that too many the tale

should hear!'

Then forth from the tent went Bené, and in secret unto her

care

The squire gave the folded letter, and the golden ring he

bare, 560

And they, too, had heard the wailing of the maid, and they

knew full well

Why she sorrowed, and this their errand they fain to the king

would tell.

And they asked of the maiden Bené if she their friend would

be?

And she spake, 'Stand without the circle till I bid ye to

come to me!'

Then Bené, the gentle maiden, she told them within the tent 565

That without two squires were waiting, from Gramoflanz hither

sent,

And fain would they speak with King Arthur--'But unfitting it

seemeth me

That we call them unto our counsels, and that witnesses they

should be.

On my lady must I avenge me, if thus they shall see her weep,

I bade them await my bidding, and without there their station

keep!' 570

Quoth Arthur, 'Are they the pages whom I saw behind me ride?

Of noble birth shall the twain be, methinks, it might well

betide

That so wise are they both and courteous they might give us

counsel good,

Methinks of their king's love either would treat in a fitting

mood?'

Quoth Bené, 'Nay, that I know not, but Sire, of thy grace,

this ring 575

And the letter which now I bring thee, they bare hither from

their king.

As but now I left the pavilion, of the pages, one gave it me.

Now see, Lady, do thou take it, for methinks it is meant for

thee!'

Then Itonjé, she kissed the letter, and she held it unto her

heart,

And she quoth, 'Now, Sire, thou canst see here if he would in

my love have part.' 580

In his hand Arthur took the letter, and within he found

written fair

The words of one who loveth, and his passion would fain

declare.

For Gramoflanz' hand had written the words that his lips

would say,

And Arthur, he saw by the letter that Love held o'er his

heart such sway

That ne'er had he known aforetime one who loved with so true

a love-- 585

And the words that within were written Frau Minne might well

approve.

'Now greeting to whom I owe greeting, whose greeting I fain

would earn,

To thee, O thou gracious maiden, whose heart toward my heart

doth turn!

Who with comfort would fain console me--Our love goeth

hand-in-hand,

And the solace thy love would bring me doth high o'er all

solace stand; 590

And my joy in thy love is rooted, and my faith is to thee

held fast,

And sorrow and bitter anguish shall forth from my heart be

cast.

And thou bringest me help and counsel, so that never an evil

thought

Or a faithless deed, and shameful, shall against my fame be

brought.

But I look on thy truth and thy beauty with ever a steadfast

mind, 595

As the Pole-star doth in the north pole the goal of its

gazing find,

And neither its post forsaketh; e'en so shall our true love

be,

And waver not, one from the other--So think thou, sweet maid,

on me,

How I mourned unto thee my sorrow, nor be weary of this my

prayer--

And if one would part thee from me, for the hatred that he

shall bear 600

Unto me, then shalt thou bethink thee how thy love shall

reward us both,

And think thou of woman's honour, nor be of thy favours loth;

But still let me be thy servant, in thy service I fain would

live,

And, in all that I may, true service I will to my lady give!'

Quoth Arthur, 'Fair niece, thou saidst truly, he greeteth

thee without guile 605

Such tale doth this letter tell me that never, at any while,

Have I found of true love such marvel! His grief shalt thou

put away,

As he too shall cure thy sorrow, so do thou thy weeping stay,

And trust unto me, this combat shall be hindered--Yet say

thou here,

Thou wert captive, how hath it chanced then that ye hold each

other dear? 610

Thou shalt give him thy fair love's payment, that he do thee

service true.'--

Spake Itonjé, 'See, here she standeth who us twain together

drew,

Our love, it had else been hidden--If thou will that I now

may see

Him whom my heart desireth she will summon him unto me!'

Quoth Arthur, 'Now, show her to me; if I may, I this thing

will guide 615

That your will shall be done, and hereafter ye twain shall in

joy abide!'

Quoth Itonjé, ''Twas none but Bené; and two of his squires

are here,

If thou wilt, do this thing, (for I think me my life shall to

thee be dear,)

Thou shalt see that the king cometh hither, that he looketh

upon my face

In whom all my joy is hidden, and my life shall be in his

grace!' 620

Then Arthur, the wise and courteous, would speak with the

squires without,

He greeted them as he saw them, and boldly the one spake out,

'Sire, King Gramoflanz, he prays thee, for thine honour as

knight and king,

That the oath sworn 'twixt him and Gawain thou wilt to

fulfilment bring.

And further, Sire, he prays thee that none other with him

shall fight, 625

So great is thine host, must he face _all_, methinks it would

scarce be right!

But _Gawain_ shalt thou send against him, for he willeth no

other foe,

And Gawain alone hath he challenged, as thyself thou shalt

surely know!'

Quoth King Arthur unto the pages, 'I will free us from blame

alway,

And sorely it grieved my nephew that he fought not the strife

to-day. 630

And the knight who fought with your monarch, to victory was

he born,

The son of Gamuret is he--Three armies are here this morn,

And from many a land came they hither, but never a man hath

seen

In combat so brave a hero, and glorious his deeds have been.

He is Parzival, my kinsman, ye shall see him, the fair of

face,-- 635

For the faith and the need of Gawain will I do to the king

this grace.'

Then King Arthur and maiden Bené, with the squires they rode

here and there,

And in sooth those squires they looked on full many a lady

fair,

And they saw on the jewelled helmets many proud crests and

knightly wave,

And few for such sight shall vex them, for he who is rich as

brave 640

Full many a friend he findeth! They 'lighted not from their

steed,

And the bravest men of the armies that lay camped on the

flowery mead

King Arthur would show unto them, they might gaze on them at

their will,

Knights, ladies, and gentle maidens, of beauty they saw their

fill!

In three portions it lay, the army, and two spaces there were

between-- 645

Then away from the camp rode King Arthur, far out on the

plain so green,

And he quoth, 'Now sweet maiden Bené, her plaint didst thou

hear alway,

Itonjé, the child of my sister, her weeping she will not

stay.

These my comrades who ride beside me, if they will, they may

well believe

Of her beauty their king hath robbed her, so sorely the maid

doth grieve! 650

Now help me, ye twain, and thou, Bené, that the king he shall

hither ride,

E'en to-day, tho' the strife to-morrow he may, if he will,

abide.

I will bring Gawain to meet him on the plain, as he prayed

but now--

If he cometh to-day to mine army 'gainst the morn is he armed

I trow,

For Love such a shield shall give him that his foeman may ill

withstand 655

The courage that Love doth kindle, and that nerveth anew the

hand.

And his princes shall he bring with him, for here would I do

as best

Doth lie in my power that the Duchess shall hearken to my

behest,

And peace shall be sealed between them--Now strive ye, my

comrades dear,

With skill for such happy ending, 'twill be to your honour

here. 660

And further I make my mourning, wherein shall have been my

sin

That I wrought 'gainst your king that he beareth, in such

measure, against my kin,

Both love alike and hatred? Methinks, he doth hold us light!

Another king, mine equal, had thought more of this my right.

Doth he think to repay with hatred _her_ brother, who loves

him well? 665

If his heart such thought shall teach him, then he knoweth

not true Love's spell!'

Quoth one of the squires to King Arthur, 'What my king did to

thee of ill,

That, Sire, shall he do no longer, for courteous shall he be

still.

But thou knowest well the old hatred, and 'twere better the

king should stay

Within his camp, I think me, than ride to thine host to-day. 670

Of the same mind is still the Duchess, that she counteth him

for her foe,

And maketh her plaint against him, as many a man doth know!'

'With but few folk shall he come hither,' quoth Arthur, 'the

while I'll pray

Of that high and noble lady that her anger she put away.

And an escort good I'll send him, Beau-corps, my sister's

son, 675

Shall meet him half-way, and his journey shall under my care

be done.

Nor as shame shall he look upon it, for brave men and true

I'll send'--

Then leave did they take of King Arthur, and their way to the

camp they wend.

Alone did they leave the monarch, and Bené and the pages

twain

Rode swiftly unto Rosche Sabbins, on the further side of the

plain. 680

'Twas the fairest day of his life-time, so thought the joyful

king,

When his squires and the maiden Bené such tidings to him

might bring.

And e'en as he hearkened to them his heart spake, in sooth

to-day

Good Fortune had thought upon him, and his sorrow was put

away!

Then he spake, 'He would come, right gladly,' and he chose to

him comrades three, 685

A prince of his land was each one who bare the king company.

Brandelidelein, his uncle, with his nephew was fain to ride,

Affinamus of Clitiers, and Count Bernard of Riviers rode

beside.

And each man he chose another who should be for such journey

meet,

And twelve in all might ye reckon who rode hence the king to

greet. 690

And many a squire went with them, and many a footman strong,

Well armèd, as should befit them, did unto the train belong.

Would ye know how the knights had robed them? Of silk was

their raiment bright,

And heavy with gold inwoven that shone in the morning light.

And the king, he went as to hawking, with his falconer by his

side-- 695

Now Arthur had well bethought him, and Beau-corps he bade to

ride,

And half-way to meet the monarch as escort both fit and

fair--

And over the stretch of the meadow, or a pool or a brook lay

there,

Where'er one might find the water rode the king as on pastime

bent,

Yet ever Love drew him onward, and on Love was his heart

intent. 700

And Beau-corps, he rode towards him, and in such wise the

king would greet

That I ween 'twas a joyful moment when the twain and their

folk did meet.

And more than fifty pages with Beau-corps should ride that

day,

And their faces were fair to look on, Dukes and Counts might

they be alway,

And kings' sons, too, rode among them--And the greeting was

good to see, 705

When from either side the children kissed each other, of true

heart free.

And Beau-corps was fair to look on, and the king asked, who

might he be?

And Bené, she straightway answered. 'The son of King Lot is

he,

And _Beau-corps_ the name men call him'--Then he thought, 'Of

a sooth, my heart,

Thou hast found her! For she shall be like him who so

knightly doth play his part, 710

For in truth shall she be his sister, she who sent me the

headgear rare

That of erst was in Sinzester fashioned, and the hawk on mine

hand I bear.

If she further will show me kindness then all earthly power

and pride

Would I count as naught, might I win her, tho' the earth were

twice as wide.

And surely she meaneth truly--For love of her came I here, 715

Hitherto hath she dealt so kindly that methinks I but little

fear;

She will show unto me such favour that my courage shall wax

full high!'

Then he clasped the hand of her brother that fair in his hand

did lie.

In the meanwhile within his army King Arthur in such wise

wrought

That the Duchess was fain to grant him the peace that his

lips had sought. 720

For rich was her consolation for her love by King Gramoflanz

slain,

For whose sake she had borne him hatred; and no more might

her lips complain,

For her anger had sunk to slumber, and she wakened to life

anew

'Neath Gawain's embrace so tender, and her wrath, it was

smitten thro'.

Then Arthur, the king of the Bretons, took many a lady

bright, 725

One hundred, both wife and maiden, who were lovely in all

men's sight,

In a tent apart he set them--Nor might her lot fairer be,

Itonjé, who sat beside them, since her king there she thought

to see.

And ever her heart was joyful, and yet in her soft eyes' glow

Ye might see that the gentle maiden thro' love must sore

sorrow know. 730

And many a knight and hero sat there, yet among them all

No face was so fair to look on as the fair face of Parzival.

To the tent-door up rode the monarch, and Gramoflanz, he ware

For garment a robe of wonder, in Gampfassâsch wroughten fair.

'Twas a rick silk, all gold embroidered, and woven with

golden thread, 735

And a shimmer of light from his vesture afar round the

monarch spread.

Then they who had hither ridden adown from their steeds they

spring,

And the squires, they press them forward to the tent before

their king,

And the chamberlains vie with each other, and they make thro'

the court a way

To the throne where the queen of the Bretons in her glory sat

that day. 740

Brandelidelein, his uncle, before the monarch went,

And the twain, Guinevere she kissed them, and bade welcome

within her tent.

And Count Bernard, and Affinamus a kiss from her lips must

take--

Then to Gramoflanz Arthur turned him, and thus to the king he

spake,

'Ere thou takest thy seat, bethink thee; if thou dost a

maiden love, 745

And thou seest her here, thou mayst kiss her, nor will I such

kiss reprove!'

It had told him which was his lady, the letter he read but

now

In the open field, and that letter, 'twas her brother's face

I trow!

The brother of her who from all men had hidden her love so

true--

And Gramoflanz' eyes beheld her, and straightway his love he

knew, 750

And his heart swelled high within him--Since Arthur had

willed their bliss,

And had bid him in men's sight greet her, on her sweet lips

the maid he kissed.

Brandelidelein, he sat him by the queen, fair Guinevere,

And King Gramoflanz, he was seated by the maid, who with many

a tear

Had dimmed the glow of her beauty; 'twas for his sake she

wept so sore, 755

Nor might he take vengeance on her, since guiltless this woe

she bore.

But softly he spake unto her, and he vowed to her service

true,

And she thanked him for this his coming, and their hearts

toward each other flew,

And further no word they spake there, but they gazed in each

other's eyes,

And their yea and their nay would I tell here, were I but in

Love's language wise. 760

To Brandelidelein quoth Arthur, 'Methinks thou enow hast told

Thy tale in the ears of my lady!' Then he led forth the hero

bold,

To a little tent he led him, apart on the grassy field;

Yet Gramoflanz came not with them, but, e'en as King Arthur

willed,

He abode in the tent with his comrades, and so fair were the

ladies bright, 765

That I deem well to look upon them but little would vex a

knight

And fair was their joy and their pastime, 'twould please many

a man, I trow,

Who to-day, after peril ended, would joy for his sorrow know.

Then wine to the queen and her ladies and to many a knight

they bare,

And, methinks, an enow they tasted, their faces waxed fresh

and fair. 770

To Brandelidelein and King Arthur the cup-bearers wine must

bring;

As they passed from the tent in this wise quoth Arthur, the

goodly king:

'Sir King, say, the conflict ended, if the strife in such

wise have run

That the king, the son of thy sister, shall have slain my

sister's son,

Yet would woo my niece, the maiden who maketh to him her moan 775

But now, as they sit together and their love for each other

own;

If she do as shall best beseem her, she will favour him never

more,

But will give him for payment hatred as shall vex the king

full sore

If her love he yet desireth--for where love is o'ercome by

hate

Then joy from true hearts is banished, and desire doth with

sorrow mate!' 780

Then out spake the King of Punturtois to Arthur of Brittany,

'Sir King, they are sons to our sisters betwixt whom this

hate shall be.

'Tis our part this strife to hinder, nor other shall be its

end

Save that they twain shall love each other, and from foe

shall be turned to friend.

'Twere best that thy niece, Itonjé, ere she yield to my

nephew's prayer, 785

Shall say, if in truth he love her he shall from this strife

forbear.

Thus an end shall be put to the combat, and the quarrel shall

turn to peace--

And thou, thou shalt pray the Duchess that her wrath 'gainst

my nephew cease!'

'Yea, that have I done,' quoth Arthur, 'my sister's son,

Gawain,

He holdeth such power o'er the lady, that, as courtesy doth

constrain, 790

For his sake and mine she forgiveth the ill that the king

hath done--

Now do thou thy part with thy nephew, that peace on his side

be won.'

Brandelidelein quoth straightway, 'I will do e'en as thou

dost say'--

And back to the tent and the feasting the monarchs they took

their way.

Then sat the King of Punturtois on one side of the gracious

queen, 795

And Parzival sat on the other, and so fair was his face, I

ween,

That never a man so goodly their eyes had beheld afore--

Then Arthur, the king, he rose up, and he gat him from out

the door,

And he sought Gawain, his nephew; then he, who a while must

hear

How his foemen had ridden hither, learnt that Arthur now drew

anear, 800

And before his tent dismounted--Then swift did Sir Gawain

spring,

And forth from the tent on the meadow he hastened to meet the

king.

Then counsel they took together, and the Duchess, she peace

would swear,

But not otherwise save that Gawain for her sake should this

strife forbear.

Then should Gramoflanz be forgiven, if _he_, too, would

forgive the ill 805

Once done by King Lot, her kinsman--so Arthur should speak

her will.

Then Arthur the wise and courteous, he brought the tale

again,

And King Gramoflanz, for his garland, henceforward must mourn

in vain.

And his hatred to Lot of Norway it passed as the snow flakes

melt

In the sun, 'neath the glance of Itonjé, and anger no more he

felt. 810

And the while he sat beside her he said to her bidding,

yea,--

Then they spake, Gawain came hither with his knights in brave

array,

And their names I may not tell ye, nor the land in which each

was born;

But here love had banished sorrow, and sadness was overworn.

Then the Duchess, Orgelusé, and her gallant men and true, 815

With part of the host of Klingsor, with Gawain nearer drew;

And the covering 'gainst wind and weather from the king's

tent they took away,

And thither came good Arnivé with Sangivé and Kondrie alway,

They came at King Arthur's bidding where men words of peace

would speak,

(He who counteth this but a small thing, at his will may a

greater seek.) 820

Then Iofreit, Gawain's comrade, by her white hand, within the

tent

Led the Duchess, fair and stately, and on this was she

courteous bent,

That the three queens should go before her--Brandelidelein

they kissed,

Then she followed, proud Orgelusé, nor the monarch her

greeting missed.

Then Gramoflanz stepped towards her, atonement he fain would

make, 825

From her sweet lips the kiss of forgiveness as token of peace

he'ld take;

And the lady was moved to weeping, for she thought of her

true love slain,

And the faith and the sorrow of women did her heart to such

woe constrain.

Then Gramoflanz and Sir Gawain with a kiss put an end to

strife;

And Arthur gave maid Itonjé to King Gramoflanz to wife, 830

For truly and long had he served her; and Bené was glad that

day--

And another for love's sake sorrowed, and his sorrow was put

away,

For Lischois, the Duke of Gowerzein, won fair Kondrie for his

own,

And, I ween, were her love not his portion his life little

joy had known.

To the Turkowit, brave Florant, as his wife King Arthur gave 835

Her who wedded King Lot aforetime, and her love a man well

might crave;

'Twas a gift such as love beseemeth, and the knight took it

joyfully--

For the king, he was aye free-handed, and he gave such gifts

readily!

To this end had he well bethought him, and counsel wise had

ta'en,

And soon as his speech was ended, the Duchess, she spake

again, 840

And she said that her love Sir Gawain had conquered with

valiant hand,

And henceforth he of right was master alike of her life and

land.

And many a knight who hearkened he thought her speech ill to

hear,

For they fought for her love, and had broken in her service

full many a spear.

Gawain, and they who rode with him, Arnivé, and the Duchess

fair, 845

And many a lovely lady prayed leave of the monarch there.

And Parzival, he went with them--Sangivé and maid Kondrie

They rode hence, but with King Arthur she abode still, fair

Itonjé.

And the wedding feast that was holden was a feast beyond

compare;

And Guinevere took Itonjé, and her true love, within her

care, 850

The gallant king who with knighthood full many a prize had

won,

And for love and desire of Itonjé full many brave deeds had

done.

And many they sought their lodging who for love's sake must

sorrow sore;

And how that night they had feasted, of that will we think no

more--

But they who for love did service, who knew of true love the

might, 855

They would that the day was ended, for fairer they deemed the

night.

Then King Gramoflanz sent this message (he bethought him in

his pride)

To his men, who, before Rosche-Sabbins, lay camped by the

water-side.

They should spare nor pains nor labour, but their tents

should they strike straightway,

And hither, with all his army, should they hasten ere break

of day. 860

And his marshal here must seek him a fitting place and fair--

'Each prince by himself be encamped, and ye shall for myself

prepare

Such goodly state and royal as well shall beseem a king,

Nor spare ye the cost'--'Twas nightfall ere this word to the

host they bring.

And many a man must sorrow who had learnt from a woman woe,-- 865

Whose love to the winds is scattered, and who ne'er doth

rewarding know

For his service, to grief he speedeth, and naught shall his

steps delay,

Save only the help of a woman o'ertaketh him on his way.

But Parzival, he bethought him of his wife so fair and sweet,

How pure she was, and how gentle--Did he ne'er another greet, 870

And offer for fair love service, and, wavering, love anew?

Nay, nay, he was far from such dealings, and naught of such

love he knew!

For a mighty faith so guarded his body alike and heart

That never a woman living might have in his love a part,

Save only his queen and lady, Kondwiramur, the flower 875

Of women, Love's fairest blossom, with none should she share

her power.

And he thought, 'Since to Love I wakened but ill hath Love

dealt with me,

Of Love was I born, how comes it that I must from her

presence flee?

Tho' my hand for the Grail be seeking yet desire it doth rend

my heart,

And I yearn for her sweet embraces; ah, too long have we

dwelt apart! 880

Shall I look with mine eyes on rejoicing while my heart seeth

naught but woe?

The twain fit but ill together, and no man thereby shall know

High courage, a knight befitting--Now Good Fortune direct my

way,

And show me what best beseemeth!' His harness before him lay,

And he thought, 'Since to me that lacketh with which others

are richly blest,-- 885

The love in whose sweet fulfilment many sad hearts have found

their rest--

Since this sorrow must be my portion I care not what else my

lot,

Little reck I what shall befall me, since my joy Heaven

willeth not!

And thou, for whose love I am yearning, were it so both with

me and thee,

That our hearts ever dreamed of parting, nor our love from

all doubt were free, 890

It might well be that with another joy and blessing again

were mine,

But thy love it so fast doth hold me, I may rest on no heart

but thine!

And for aye am I Sorrow's captive! Now Good Fortune bring joy

to all

Who find peace in fair Love's fulfilment, they are blessèd

whate'er befall--

May God give to this folk rejoicing! But I from their joy

must flee, 895

And wend lonely as of aforetime, since gladness is not for

me!'

Then he stretched out his hand to his harness, and as oft was

his wont of yore,

Unaided he girt it on him, and soon was he armed once more.

Now sorrow anew he seeketh--When he, who from joy would fly,

Had armed himself, his charger he saddled right speedily, 900

And his shield and spear were ready--O'er his loss did they

wail next morn,

For no eye looked on his departing, he rode thence ere the

day was born.

BOOK XV

FEIREFIS

ARGUMENT

Book XV. tells how Parzival met with a mighty heathen, with whom

he

fought fiercely, and how he was well-nigh vanquished. How he

found the

heathen to be his brother, Feirefis Angevin, and how the twain

rode

together to the court of King Arthur.

Of the welcome given to Feirefis by King Arthur and his knights;

of his

riches; and of the kings conquered by the two brothers.

How a feast of the Round Table was holden, and how Kondrie bare

tidings

of Parzival's election to the Grail Kingdom, and summoned him,

his

wife, and his son Lohengrin, to Monsalväsch; and how Parzival and

Feirefis rode thither with Kondrie as their guide.

BOOK XV

FEIREFIS

Now many were sorely angered that I told not this tale afore

Since it wearied them naught in the hearing--Now my words I

withhold no more,

But I give ye to wit full truly, as my mouth may the story

tell,

The end of this wondrous venture for methinks it shall please

ye well.

Ye shall know how the king, Anfortas, of his wound was made

whole again-- 5

Of the queen doth the venture tell us, who in far Pelrapär

did reign;

How she kept a pure heart and loyal till the day of her great

reward,

And earth's fairest crown was her guerdon at the hand of her

faithful lord.

Ye shall hear the tale of its winning, if my skill fail me

not alway;

Yet first must ye list the labour that Parzival wrought that

day. 10

Now, tho' dauntless his hand had striven, but as children his

foemen all,

And ne'er would I risk my hero might I rule that which shall

befall.

I must sorrow sore for his peril, and fain would I speak him

free,

But now must I trust that Good Fortune the shield of his

heart may be.

For purity, and high courage, side by side in his heart they

lay, 15

And ne'er had he cherished cowardice, nor shrunk from the

knightly fray;

And I deem this shall surely give him such strength he his

life may hold,

Since fierce strife draweth nigh unto him, and his foe is a

hero bold.

For he meeteth a prince of battles who dauntless to strife

doth ride,

And unbaptized was the foeman who rode here in his heathen

pride. 20

Full soon had he come, our hero, to a mighty woodland shade,

And without, in the light of the dawning, his armour a knight

displayed.

'Twere a marvel could I, a poor man, of the riches now speak

to ye

That the heathen he bare as his decking, so costly their

worth should be.

If more than enough I told ye, yet more would be left to

tell; 25

Yet I would not his wealth were hidden--What of riches, I

ween, shall dwell

In Bretagne alike and England, and be tribute to Arthur's

might,

They had paid not the stones that, shining, glowed fair on

his armour bright.

His blazoned coat was costly, and naught but the truth I say,

Ruby and Chalcedony, ye had held them not fair that day. 30

And bright as the sun was his vesture, on the mount of

Agremontein,

In the glowing fires, Salamanders had welded that garment's

shine.

There jewels rare and precious, with never a fault or flaw,

Glowed dark and light; of their nature, I ween, I can tell no

more!

His desire was for love's rewarding, and the winning of high

renown, 35

He had won from the hands of fair women the jewels that his

pride did crown.

For the favour Frau Minne showed him with joy did his proud

heart beat,

And it swelled high with manly courage, as is for a lover

meet.

As reward for his deeds of knighthood on his helmet a beast

he bare,

Ecidemon, all poisonous serpents they must of its power

beware, 40

For of life and of strength doth it rob them, if they smell

it but from afar--

Thopedissimonté, Assigarzionté, Thasmé, and Arabia,

They scarce of such silk might boast them as was covering for

his steed--

He sought, that mighty heathen, in a woman's love his meed,

And therefore he bravely decked him, and fain would his

courage prove, 45

And his manhood, it urged him onward to battle for sake of

love.

Now the knight, so young and gallant, in a haven beside the

wood,

But little known, on the water had anchored his ships so

good.

And his armies were five-and-twenty, and they knew not each

other's speech--

'Twas a token fair of his riches, and the lands that his

power might reach, 50

As the armies, so were the kingdoms that did service unto his

hand--

And Moors and Saracens were they, and unlike was each warlike

band,

And the hue of their skins was diverse--Thus gathered from

lands afar

Ye might see in his mighty army strange weapons of heathen

war.

So thus, in search of adventure, from his army this man would

ride, 55

In the woodland green he wandered, and waited what should

betide.

And since thus it well doth please them, so let them ride,

these kings,

Alone, in search of ventures, and the fair fame that combat

brings.

Yet Parzival rode not lonely, methinks he had comrades twain,

Himself, and the lofty courage that lord o'er his soul did

reign. 60

And that he so bravely fought here might win from a woman

praise,

If falsehood should not mislead her, that injustice should

rule her ways.

So spurred they against each other, who were lambs in their

purity,

Yet as lions were they bold and dauntless, 'twas a sight for

a man to see!

Ah! woe is me for their meeting, for the world and its ways

are wide, 65

And they well might have spared each other, nor, guiltless,

to battle ride.

I should sorrow for him whom I brought here, save my heart

did this comfort hold,

That the Grail shall with strength endue him, and Love

shelter the hero bold,

Since he was of the twain the servant, nor his heart ever

wavering knew,

And ever his hand was ready to serve them with service true. 70

My skill little wit doth give me this combat that here

befell,

In fitting words and knightly, from beginning to end to tell.

But the eye of each flashed triumph as the coming foe he saw,

And the heart of each knight waxed joyful, as they nearer to

battle draw.

Yet sorrow, I ween, was nigh them, true hearts, from all

falsehood free, 75

And each bare the heart of the other, and should comrade and

stranger be!

Nor may I asunder part them, the paynim and Christian knight,

Hatred they show to each other, tho' no cause have they here

for fight.

And methinks this of joy shall rob them, who, as true women,

share their pain

Who risk their lives for a woman! May they part, ere one here

be slain! 80

As the lion-cub, that its mother beareth dead, doth to life

awake

At the aweful voice of its father, so these twain, as the

spear-shafts break

Arouse to fresh life, and to honour, I ween, are they newly

born,

For many a joust have they ridden and many a spear outworn.

Then they tighten the hanging bridle, and they take to their

aim good care, 85

That each on the shield of the other, as he willeth, shall

smite him fair.

And no point do they leave unguarded, and they give to their

seat good heed,

As men who are skilled in jousting, and sharply each spurs

his steed.

And bravely the joust was ridden, and each gorget asunder

broke,

And the spears bent not, but in splinters they flew from each

mighty stroke; 90

And sore was he wroth, the heathen, that this man might his

joust abide,

For never a knight but had fallen who a course 'gainst his

spear would ride.

Think ye that their swords they wielded as their chargers

together drew?

Yea, the combat was sharp and bitter, and each must give

proof anew

Alike of his skill and his manhood--The strange beast,

Ecidemon, 95

Had many a wound, and beneath it the helmet sore blows had

won;

And the horses were hot and wearied, and many new turns they

tried--

Then down they sprung from their chargers, and their

sword-blades afresh they plied.

And the heathen wrought woe to the Christian, 'Thasmé!' was

his battle-cry,

And when 'Tabronit!' he shouted he drew ever a step anigh. 100

And the Christian, he showed his valour in many an onslaught

bold;

So pressed they upon each other--Nor would I the tale

withhold

Of how the fight was foughten, yet must I the strife bemoan,

How, one flesh and one blood thus sharing, each wrought evil

unto his own;

For both were the sons of one father, and brothers, I ween,

were they, 105

And methinks upon such foundation faith and friendship their

stone should lay!

And love ne'er had failed the heathen, and his heart was for

combat fain,

For the love of Queen Sekundillé fresh honour he thought to

gain;

Tribalibot's land she gave him, and she was his shield in

strife--

So bravely he fought, how think ye that the Christian might

guard his life? 110

On love let his thoughts be steadfast, else sure is he here

undone,

And he hath from the hand of the heathen in this combat his

death-blow won.

O thou Grail, by thy lofty virtue such fate from thy knight

withhold!

Kondwiramur, thine husband in such deadly stress behold!

Here he standeth, of both the servant, in such danger and

peril sore 115

That as naught ye may count the ventures he hath dared for

your sake of yore!

Then on high flashed the sword of the heathen, and many such

blow had slain,

To his knee Parzival was beaten--Now see how they fought, the

twain,

If twain ye will still account them, yet in sooth shall they

be but one,

For my brother and I are one body, e'en as husband and wife

are one! 120

The heathen wrought woe to the Christian--Of Asbestos, I

ween, his shield,

That wondrous wood that never to flame or decay shall yield;

I' sooth, right well she loved him who gave him a gift so

fair,

Turquoise, Chrysoprase, Emerald, Ruby, rich jewels beyond

compare

Decked with shining lines its surface, on the boss shone a

precious stone, 125

Antrax, afar they call it, as Carbuncle it here is known.

And as token of love, for his guarding, Sekundillé the queen

would give

That wondrous beast, Ecidemon--in her favour he fain would

live,

And e'en as she willed he bare it, as his badge, did that

gallant knight--

Here with purity faith joined issue, and truth with high

truth would fight. 130

For love's sake upon the issue of this combat each risked his

life,

Each had pledged his hand to the winning of honour and fame

in strife;

And the Christian, in God he trusted since the day that he

rode away

From the hermit, whose faithful counsel had bidden him trust

alway

In Him who could turn his sorrow into bliss without thought

of bale-- 135

To Him should he pray for succour, whose succour should never

fail.

And fierce and strong was the heathen, when 'Tabronit,' he

cried,

For there, 'neath the mount Kaukasus did the queen,

Sekundillé', abide;

Thus gained he afresh high courage 'gainst him who ne'er knew

of yore

The weight of such deadly combat, for in sooth was he pressed

full sore-- 140

To defeat was he aye a stranger, and ne'er had he seen its

face,

Tho' his foemen right well must know it, as they yielded them

to his grace!

With skill do they wield their weapons, and sparks spring

from the helmets fair,

And a whistling wind ariseth as the blades cleave the summer

air;

God have Gamuret's son in His keeping! and the prayer it

shall stand for both, 145

For the twain shall be one nor, I think me, to own it were

either loth.

For had they but known each other their stake ne'er had been

so great,

For blessing, and joy, and honour, were risked on that

combat's fate,

For he who shall here be victor, if true brother and knight

he be,

Of all this world's joy is he forfeit, nor from grief may his

heart be free! 150

Sir Parzival, why delay thee to think on thy queen and wife,

Her purity and her beauty, if here thou wouldst save thy

life?

For the heathen, he bare two comrades who kindled his

strength anew,

The one, in his strong heart, steadfast, lay ever a love so

true;

And the other, the precious jewels that burnt with a mystic

glow, 155

Thro' whose virtue his strength waxed greater, and his heart

must fresh courage know.

And it grieveth me sore that the Christian was weary and

faint with fight,

Nor swiftly might he avoid him, and his blows they were

robbed of might;

And if the twain fail to aid thee, O thou gallant Parzival,

Thy queen and the Grail, then I think me this thought it

shall help thee well, 160

Shall thy fair babes thus young be orphaned? Kardeiss and

Lohengrin,

Whom thy wife, e'en as thou didst leave her, for her joy and

her hope must win--

For children thus born in wedlock, the pledge of a love so

pure,

I ween are a man's best blessing, and a joy that shall aye

endure!

New strength did he win, the Christian, and he thought, none

too soon, I ween, 165

On his love so true and faithful, on Kondwiramur, his queen,

How he won his wife at the sword's point, when sparks from

the helm did spring

'Neath the mighty blows he dealt him, Klamidé, the warrior

king.

'Tabronit! and Thasmé!' and above them rung clear his

battle-cry,

'Pelrapär!' as aloud he cried it to his aid did his true love

fly, 170

O'er kingdoms four she sought him, and her love gave him

strength anew,

And lo! from the shield of the heathen the costly splinters

flew,

Each one a hundred marks' worth--and the sword so strong and

keen

That Ither of Gaheviess bare first brake sheer on the

helmet's sheen,

And the stranger, so rich and valiant, he stumbled, and

sought his knee-- 175

For God, He no longer willed it that Parzival lord should be

Of this weapon of which in his folly he had robbed a gallant

knight--

Then up sprang afresh the heathen who ne'er before fell in

fight,

Not yet is the combat ended, and the issue for both shall

stand

In the power of the God of battles, and their life lieth in

His hand! 180

And a gallant knight was the heathen, and he spake out, right

courteously,

(Tho' the tongue was the tongue of a heathen yet in fair

French his speech should be,)

'Now I see well, thou gallant hero, thou hast no sword

wherewith to fight,

And the fame shall be small I win me if I fight with an

unarmed knight,

But rest thee awhile from conflict, and tell me who thou

shalt be, 185

For the fame that so long I cherished it surely had fallen to

thee

Had the blow not thy sword-blade shattered--Now, let peace be

betwixt us twain,

And our wearied limbs will we rest here ere we get us to

strife again.'

Then down on the grass they sat them, and courteous and brave

were they,

Nor too young nor too old for battle--fit foemen they were

that day! 190

Then the heathen, he spake to the Christian, 'Believe me, Sir

Knight, that ne'er

Did I meet with a man so worthy the crown of such fame to

bear

As a knight in strife may win him--Now, I prithee, tell thou

to me

Thy name, and thy race, that my journey may here not

unfruitful be!

Quoth the son of fair Herzeleide, 'Thro' _fear_ shall I tell

my name? 195

For thou askest of me such favour as a victor alone may

claim!'

Spake the heathen prince from Thasmé, 'Then that shame shall

be mine, I ween,

For first will I speak my title, and the name that mine own

hath been;

"Feirefis Angevin" all men call me, and such riches are mine,

I trow,

That the folk of full many a kingdom 'neath my sceptre as

vassals bow!' 200

Then, e'en as the words were spoken, to the heathen quoth

Parzival,

'How shall "_Angevin_" be thy title, since as heirdom to _me_

it fell,

Anjou, with its folk and its castles, its lands and its

cities fair?

Nay, choose thee some other title, if thou, courteous,

wouldst hear my prayer!

If thro' thee I have lost my kingdom, and the fair town

Béalzenan, 205

Then wrong hadst thou wrought upon me ere ever our strife

began!

If one of us twain is an Angevin then by birthright that one

am I!--

And yet, of a truth, was it told me, that afar 'neath an

Eastern sky,

There dwelleth a dauntless hero, who, with courage and

knightly skill,

Such love and such fame hath won him that he ruleth them at

his will. 210

And men say, he shall be my brother--and that all they who

know his name

Account him a knight most valiant, and he weareth the crown

of fame!'

In a little space he spake further, 'If, Sir Knight, I thy

face might see,

I should know if the truth were told me, if in sooth thou art

kin to me.

Sir Knight, wilt thou trust mine honour, then loosen thine

helmet's band, 215

I will swear till once more thou arm thee to stay from all

strife mine hand!

Then out he spake, the heathen, 'Of such strife have I little

fear,

For e'en were my body naked, my sword, I still hold it here!

Of a sooth must thou be the vanquished, for since broken

shall be thy sword

What availeth thy skill in combat keen death from thine heart

to ward, 220

Unless, of free will, I spare thee? For, ere thou couldst

clasp me round,

My steel, thro' the iron of thy harness, thy flesh and thy

bone had found!'

Then the heathen, so strong and gallant, he dealt as a knight

so true,

'Nor mine nor thine shall this sword be!' and straight from

his hand it flew,

Afar in the wood he cast it, and he quoth, 'Now, methinks,

Sir Knight, 225

The chance for us both shall be equal, if further we think to

fight!'

Quoth Feirefis, 'Now, thou hero, by thy courteous breeding

fair,

Since in sooth thou shalt have a brother, say, what face doth

that brother bear?

And tell me here of his colour, e'en as men shall have told

it thee.'

Quoth the Waleis, 'As written parchment, both black and white

is he, 230

For so hath Ekuba told me.' 'Then that brother am I alway,'

Quoth the heathen--Those knights so gallant, but little they

made delay,

But they loosed from their heads the helmet, and they made

them of iron bare,

And Parzival deemed that he found there a gift o'er all

others fair,

For straightway he knew the other, (as a magpie, I ween, his

face,) 235

And hatred and wrath were slain here in a brotherly embrace.

Yea, friendship far better 'seemed them, who owed to one sire

their life,

Than anger, methinks, and envy--Truth and Love made an end of

strife.

Then joyful he spake, the heathen, 'Now well shall it be with

me,

And I thank the gods of my people that Gamuret's son I see. 240

Blest be Juno, the queen of heaven, since, methinks, she hath

ruled it so,

And Jupiter, by whose virtue and strength I such bliss may

know,

Gods and goddesses, I will love ye, and worship your strength

for aye--

And blest be those shining planets, 'neath the power of whose

guiding ray

I hither have made my journey--For ventures I here would

seek, 245

And found _thee_, brother, sweet and aweful, whose strong

hand hath made me weak.

And blest be the dew, and the breezes, that this morning my

brow have fanned.

Ah! thou courteous knight who holdest love's key in thy

valiant hand!

Ah! happy shall be the woman whose eyes on thy face shall

light,

Already is bliss her portion who seeth so fair a sight!' 250

'Ye speak well, I would fain speak better of a full heart,

had I the skill;

Yet alas! for I lack the wisdom, tho' God knoweth, of right

goodwill

The fame of your worth and valour by my words would I higher

raise,

And as eye, and as heart should serve me, the twain, they

should speak your praise;

As your fame and your glory lead them, so behind in your

track they fare-- 255

And ne'er from the hand of a foeman such peril hath been my

share

As the peril your hand hath wrought me! and sooth are these

words I say.'

In this wise quoth the knight of Kanvoleis; yet Feirefis

spake alway;

'With wisdom and skill, I wot well, hath Jupiter fashioned

thee,

Thou true and gallant hero! Nor thy speech shall thus distant

be, 260

For "_ye_" thou shalt no more call me, of one sire did we

spring we twain.'

And with brotherly love he prayed him he would from such

speech refrain

And henceforward '_thou_' to call him, yet Parzival deemed it

ill,

And he spake, 'Now, your riches, brother, shall be e'en as

the Baruch's still,

And ye of us twain are the elder, my poverty and my youth 265

They forbid me "_thou_" to call ye, or discourteous were I in

truth.

Then the Prince of Tribalibot, joyful, with many a word would

praise

His god, Jupiter, and to Juno thanksgiving he fain would

raise,

Since so well had she ruled the weather, that the port to

which he was bound

He had safely reached, and had landed, and there had a

brother found. 270

Side by side did they sit together, and neither forgot the

grace

Of courtesy, to the other, each knight fain had yielded

place.

Then the heathen spake, 'My brother, wilt thou sail with me

to my land,

Then two kingdoms, rich and powerful, will I give thee into

thine hand.

Thy father and mine, he won them when King Eisenhart's life

was run, 275

Zassamank and Assagog are they--to no man he wrong hath done,

Save in that he left me orphaned--of the ill that he did that

day

As yet have I not avenged me, for an ill deed it was alway.

For his wife, the queen who bare me, thro' her love must she

early die,

When she knew herself love-bereavèd, and her lord from her

land did fly. 280

Yet gladly that knight would I look on, for his fame hath

been told to me

As the best of knights, and I journey my father's face to

see!'

Then Parzival made him answer, 'Yea I, too, I saw him ne'er;

Yet all men they speak well of him, and his praises all lands

declare,

And ever in strife and conflict to better his fame he knew, 285

And his valour was high exalted, and afar from him falsehood

flew.

And women he served so truly that all true folk they praised

his name,

And all that should deck a Christian lent honour unto his

fame,

For his faith it for aye stood steadfast, and all false deeds

did he abhor,

But followed his true heart's counsel--Thus ever I heard of

yore 290

From the mouth of all men who knew him, that man ye were fain

to see,

And I ween ye would do him honour if he yet on this earth

might be,

And sought for fame as aforetime--The delight of all women's

eyes

Was he, till king Ipomidon with him strove for knighthood's

prize,

At Bagdad the joust was ridden, and there did his valiant

life 295

For love's sake become death's portion, and there was he

slain in strife;

In a knightly joust we lost him from whose life do we spring,

we twain;

If here ye would seek our father, then the seas have ye

sailed in vain!'

'Alas, for the endless sorrow!' quoth the knight. 'Is my

father dead?

Here joy have I lost, tho' it well be that joy cometh in its

stead. 300

In this self-same hour have I lost me great joy, and yet joy

have found,

For myself, and thou, and my father, we three in one bond are

bound;

For tho' men as _three_ may hold us, yet I wot well we are

but _one_,

And no wise man he counts that kinship 'twixt father,

methinks, and son,

For in truth for more must he hold it--With _thyself_ hast

thou fought to-day, 305

To strife with _myself_ have I ridden, and I went near myself

to slay;

Thy valour in good stead stood us, from myself hast thou

saved my life--

Now Jupiter see this marvel, since thy power so hath ruled

the strife

That from death hast thou here withheld us!' Then tears

streamed from his heathen eyes,

As he laughed and wept together--Yea, a Christian such truth

might prize, 310

For our baptism truth should teach us, since there are we

named anew

In the Name of Christ, and all men they hold the Lord Christ

for true!

Quoth the heathen, e'en as I tell ye, 'No longer will we

abide

In this place, but if thou, my brother, for a short space

with me wilt ride,

From the sea to the land will I summon, that their power be

made known to thee, 315

The richest force that Juno e'er guided across the sea.

And in truth, without thought of falsehood, full many a

gallant knight

Will I show thee, who do me service, and beneath my banners

fight,

With me shalt thou ride towards them.' Then Parzival spake

alway,

'Have ye then such power o'er these people that your bidding

they wait to-day 320

And all the days ye are absent?' Quoth the heathen, 'Yea,

even so,

If for half a year long I should leave them, not a man from

the place would go,

Be he rich or poor, till I bade him. Well victualled their

ships shall be,

And neither the horse nor his rider setteth foot on the

grassy lea,

Save only to fetch them water from the fountain that

springeth fair, 325

Or to lead their steeds to the meadow to breathe the fresh

summer air.'

Then Parzival quoth to his brother, 'If it be so, then follow

me

To where many a gracious maiden, and fair pleasures, ye well

may see,

And many a courteous hero who shall be to us both akin--

Near by with a goodly army lieth Arthur, the Breton king, 330

'Twas only at dawn I left them, a great host and fair are

they,

And many a lovely lady shall gladden our eyes to-day.'

When he heard that he spake of women, since he fain for their

love would live,

He quoth, 'Thou shalt lead me thither, but first thou shalt

answer give

To the question I here would ask thee--Of a truth shall we

kinsmen see 335

When we come to the court of King Arthur? For ever 'twas told

to me

That his name it is rich in honour, and he liveth as valiant

knight'--

Quoth Parzival, 'We shall see there full many a lady bright,

Nor fruitless shall be our journey, our own folk shall we

find there,

The men of whose race we have sprung, men whose head shall a

king's crown bear.' 340

Nor longer the twain would sit there, and straightway did

Parzival

Seek again the sword of his brother that afar in the woodland

fell,

And again the hero sheathed it, and all hatred they put away,

And e'en as true friends and brothers together they rode that

day.

Yet ere they might come to King Arthur men had heard of the

twain a tale-- 345

On the self-same day it befell so that the host, they must

sore bewail

The loss of a gallant hero, since Parzival rode away--

Then Arthur, he took good counsel, and he spake, 'Unto the

eighth day

Would they wait for Parzival's coming, nor forth from the

field would fare'--

And hither came Gramoflanz' army, and they many a ring

prepare, 350

And with costly tents do they deck them, and the proud

knights are lodged full well,

Nor might brides e'er win greater honour than here to this

four befell.

Then from Château Merveil rode thither a squire in the

self-same hour,

And he said, in their column mirrored, had they seen in their

fair watch-tower

A mighty fight, and a fearful--'And where'er men with swords

have fought, 355

I wot well, beside this combat their strife shall be held as

naught.'

And the tale did they tell to Gawain, as he sat by King

Arthur's side,

And this knight, and that, spake wondering to whom might such

strife betide?

Quoth Arthur the king, 'Now I wager that I know of the twain

_one_ knight,

'Twas my nephew of Kanvoleis fought there, who left us ere

morning light!' 360

And now, lo the twain rode hither--They had foughten a combat

fair,

As helmet and shield sore dinted with sword-stroke might

witness bear.

And well skilled were the hands that had painted these badges

of strife, I trow,

(For 'tis meet in the lust of combat that a knight's hand

such skill should show,)

Then they rode by the camp of King Arthur--As the heathen

knight rode past 365

Full many a glance of wonder at his costly gear was cast.

And with tents the plain was covered--Then rode they to

Gawain's ring,

And before his tent they halted--Did men a fair welcome

bring,

And lead them within, and gladly behold them? Yea, even so,

And Gawain, he rode swiftly after when he did of their coming

know; 370

For e'en as he sat by King Arthur he saw that his tent they

sought,

And, as fitted a courteous hero, joyful greeting to them he

brought.

And as yet they bare their armour--Then Gawain, the courteous

knight,

He bade his squires disarm them--In the stress of the deadly

fight

Ecidemon, the beast, was cloven; the robe that the heathen

ware 375

In many a place bare token of the blows that had been its

share,

'Twas a silk of Saranthasmé, decked with many a precious

stone,

And beneath, rich, snow-white, blazoned with his bearings his

vesture shone.

And one over against the other stood the gems in a double

row;

By the wondrous Salamanders was it woven in fierce flame's

glow! 380

All this glory a woman gave him, who would stake on his skill

in strife

Her crown alike and her kingdom, as she gave him her love and

life.

'Twas the fair Queen Sekundillé (and gladly he did her will,

And were it for joy or for sorrow he hearkened her bidding

still)

And, e'en as her true heart willed it, of her riches was he

the lord, 385

For her love, as his rightful guerdon, had he won him with

shield and sword.

Then Gawain, he bade his people of the harness to have good

care,

That naught should be moved from its station, shield, or

helmet, or vesture fair.

And in sooth a gift too costly e'en the blazoned coat had

been

If poor were the maid who a love-gift would give to her

knight, I ween, 390

So rich were the stones that decked it, the harness of pieces

four--

And where wisdom with goodwill worketh, and of riches there

be full store,

There love well can deck the loved one! And proud Feirefis,

he strove

With such zeal for the honour of women, he well was repaid by

Love!

And soon as he doffed his harness they gazed on the wondrous

sight, 395

And they who might speak of marvels said, in sooth, that this

heathen knight,

Feirefis, was strange to look on! and wondrous marks he

bore--

Quoth Gawain to Parzival, 'Cousin, I ne'er saw his like

before,

Now who may he be, thy comrade? For in sooth he is strange to

see!'

Quoth Parzival, 'Are we kinsmen, then thy kinsman this knight

shall be, 400

As Gamuret's name may assure thee--Of Zassamank is he king,

There my father he won Belakané who this prince to the world

did bring.'

Then Gawain, he kissed the heathen--Now the noble Feirefis

Was black and white all over, save his mouth was half red, I

wis!

Then they brought to the twain fair raiment, and I wot well

their cost was dear. 405

(They were brought forth from Gawain's chamber.) Then the

ladies, they drew anear,

And the Duchess she bade Sangivé and Kondrie first kiss the

knight

Ere she and Arnivé proffered in greeting their lips so

bright.

And Feirefis gazed upon them, and, methinks, he was glad at

heart

At the sight of their lovely faces, and in joy had he lot and

part. 410

Then Gawain spake to Parzival, 'Cousin, thou hast found a new

battle-field,

If aright I may read the token of thy helmet and splintered

shield,

Sore strife shall have been your comrade, both thine and thy

brother's too!

Say, with whom did ye fight so fiercely?' Then Parzival spake

anew,

'No fiercer fight have I foughten, my brother's hand pressed

me sore 415

To defend me, no charm more potent than defence 'gainst

death's stroke I bore.

As this stranger, whom yet I knew well, I smote, my sword

brake in twain,

Yet no fear did he show, and 'vantage he scorned of mischance

to gain,

For afar did he cast his sword-blade, since he feared lest

'gainst me he sin,

Yet naught did he know when he spared me that we twain were

so near akin. 420

But now have I won his friendship, and his love, and with

right goodwill

Would I do to him faithful service as befitteth a brother

still!'

Then Gawain spake, 'They brought me tidings of a dauntless

strife and bold,

In Château Merveil the country for six miles may ye well

behold,

The pillar within the watch-tower showeth all that within

that space 425

Doth chance,--and he spake, King Arthur, that _one_ who there

strife did face,

Should be _thou_ cousin mine of Kingrivals, now hast thou the

tidings brought,

And we know of a sooth the combat was even as we had thought.

Now believe me, the truth I tell thee, for eight days here

our feast we'ld hold

In great pomp, and await thy coming, shouldst thou seek us,

thou hero bold. 430

Now rest here, ye twain, from your combat--but methinks,

since ye thus did fight,

Ye shall each know the other better, and hatred shall own

love's might.'

That eve would Gawain sup early, since his cousin of far

Thasmé,

Feirefis Angevin, and his brother, had tasted no food that

day.

And high and long were the cushions that they laid in a ring

so wide, 435

And many a costly covering of silk did their softness hide.

And long, and wide, and silken, were the clothes that above

them went,

And the store of Klingsor's riches they spread forth within

the tent.

Then four costly carpets silken, and woven so fair to see,

Did they hang one against the other, so the tale it was told

to me; 440

And beneath them, of down were the pillows, and each one was

covered fair,

And in such wise the costly couches for the guests would the

squires prepare.

And so wide was the ring that within it six pavilions right

well might stand

Nor the tent ropes should touch each other--(Now wisdom doth

fail mine hand,

I will speak no more of these marvels). Then straightway

Gawain he sent 445

To King Arthur, he fain would tell him who abode here within

his tent,

He had come, the mighty heathen, of whom Ekuba erst did tell

On Plimizöl's plain! And the tidings they rejoiced King

Arthur well.

And he who should bear the tidings, he was Iofreit, and

Idol's son;

And he bade the king sup early, and so soon as the meal was

done, 450

With his knights and his host of ladies, to ride forth a

train so fair,

And a fit and worthy welcome for Gamuret's son prepare.

Quoth the king, 'All who here are worthy, of a sooth, will I

bring with me.'

Quoth Iofreit, 'Ye fain will see him, so courteous a knight

is he,

And a marvel is he to look on--From great riches he forth

must fare, 455

For the price of his coat emblazoned is such as no man might

bear,

And no hand might count its equal, not in Löver or Brittany,

Or in England, or e'en from Paris to Wizsant beside the sea--

Nay, all the rich lands between them, were their wealth in

the balance weighed,

Then the cost of his goodly raiment, I think me, were yet

unpaid!' 460

Then again came the knight Iofreit, when he to the king had

told

The guise that should best befit him when he greeted the

heathen bold.

And within the tent of Gawain the seats were ordered fair,

In courteous rank and seemly, and the guests to the feast

repair.

And the vassals of Orgelusé, and the heroes within her train 465

Who gladly for love had served her, they sate there beside

Gawain.

Their seats they were on his right hand, on his left were

Klingsor's knights,

And over against the heroes sat many a lady bright,

All they who were Klingsor's captives, in sooth were they

fair of face,

And Parzival and his brother, by the maidens they took their

place. 470

Then the Turkowit, Sir Florant, and Sangivé, that noble

queen,

Sat over against each other, and in like wise, the board

between,

Sat Gowerzein's Duke, brave Lischois, and his wife, the fair

Kondrie.

Iofreit and Gawain forgat not each other's mate to be,

As of old would they sit together, and together, as comrades,

eat. 475

The Duchess, with bright eyes shining, by Arnivé must find

her seat,

Nor forgat they to serve each other with courteous and kindly

grace--

At the side sat fair Orgelusé, while Arnivé by Gawain found

place.

And all shame and discourteous bearing from the circle must

take their flight,

And courteous they bare the viands to each maid and each

gallant knight. 480

Then Feirefis looked on his brother, and he spake unto

Parzival;

'Now Jupiter ruled my journey so that bliss to my lot would