part 775

Thro' the friendship that thou hast shown me! God keep thee in peace alway, And watch o'er us twain, for I think me no longer I here may stay!'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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