BOOK XVI

LOHENGRIN

Now Anfortas and his Templars they suffered sore grief and pain, And their true love in bondage held him, since he prayed them for death in vain; And in sooth death had been his portion, save they wrought that the Grail he saw-- From the might of Its mystic virtue fresh life must he ever draw.

Then he spake to the knights of Monsalväsch, 'Of a sooth, were ye true of heart, 5 Ye had pitied ere this my sorrow, how long shall pain be my part? If reward ye would have as deserving, then God give ye payment fair, For ever was _I_ your servant since the days that I harness bare. Atonement in full have I made here for aught I have done of wrong To ye, e'en tho' none had known it, and my penance endureth long! 10 If ye would not be held unfaithful, by the helmet and shield I bore, And the bond of our common knighthood, release me from bondage sore! For this of a truth must ye grant me, if ye do not the truth disdain, I bare _both_ as a knight undaunted, and fame thro' my deeds did gain. For hill and vale have I ridden, and many a joust have run, 15 And with sword-play good from my foemen much hatred methinks, I won. Yet with ye doth that count for little! Bereft of all joy am I; Yet, cometh the Day of Judgment, my voice would I lift on high, And in God's sight, I, one man only, at the last will accuse ye all, If freedom ye fail to give me, and to Hell shall ye surely fall! 20 For in sooth ye should mourn my sorrow--From the first have ye seen the thing, And ye know how it came upon me--Now I profit ye not as king, And all too soon will ye think so, when thro' me ye have lost your soul-- Alas! why thus ill-entreat me? Ere this had I been made whole!'

And the knights from his grief had freed him, save they hope from the word must draw 25 That Trevrezent spake of aforetime, and that writ on the Grail he saw. And once more would they wait his coming whose joy there had waxen weak, And the hour that should bring them healing from the question his lips should speak.

Then the king of a wile bethought him, and fast would he close his eyes, And four days long so he held them, when the knights, in their 'customedwise, 30 Before the Grail would bear him, if he said them or yea, or nay; But his weakness so wrought upon him, as before the shrine he lay, That his eyelids he needs must open, and against his will must live, For the Grail held death far from him and fresh life must Its vision give.

And so was it with Anfortas till the day when Parzival 35 And Feirefis his brother, rode swift to Monsalväsch' hall; And the time was near when the planet, its course in high heaven run, Mars or Jupiter, glowing wrathful, its station had well-nigh won, And the spot whence it took its journey--Ah! then was an evil day That wrought ill to the wound of Anfortas, and the torment would have its way; 40 And maiden and knight must hearken as the palace rang with his cries, And the help that no man might give him he besought with despairing eyes, For past all aid was he wounded, and his knights could but share his grief-- Yet the tale saith he drew ever nearer who should bring him alone relief.

Then oft as the bitter anguish in its bondage the hero held, 45 The taint of the wound to banish, the hall was with sweetness filled, For before him they spread on the carpet Terebinth, and odours fair Of aromatic spices and sweet woods filled the scented air. Teriak and precious Ambra, and methinks that their smell was sweet-- Cardamom, Jeroffel, Muscat, lay broken beneath the feet 50 Where'er one set foot on the carpet; and e'en as each footstep fell Their perfume arose, and their freshness, of the venom o'ercame the smell. And his fire was of Lignum aloe, as methinks ye have heard afore-- Of the horny skin of the viper had they fashioned the pillars four That stood 'neath his couch--'Gainst the venom must his knights on the cushions strew 55 Powder of roots so precious, whose healing scent they knew. Well stuffed, but unsewed, was the covering against which the monarch leant, And the silk and the mattress 'neath it were of Palmât of Nouriente. And the couch itself was yet richer, with many a precious stone Was it decked, nor were others found there save the rarest of jewels alone; 60 And by Salamanders woven were the cords which the bed did bind, Yea even the fastening 'neath it--Yet no joy might Anfortas find. The couch on all sides was costly, (no man shall contend I ween That he in the days of his lifetime a richer shall e'er have seen,) 'Twas precious alone from the virtue of the jewels and their magic power, 65 Would ye learn their names, then hearken, for we know them unto this hour.

Carbuncle and Balas ruby, Silenite, and Chalcedony, Gagatromeus, Onyx, Coral, and Bestion, fair to see. And there too were Pearl and Opal, Ceraunius and Epistites, Jerachites, Heliotropia, Panterus, Agate, and Emathites. 70 Antrodragma, Praseme, and Saddae, Dionisia and Celidon, Sardonyx and red Cornelian, Jasper and Calcofon. Echites, Iris, Gagates, and Lyncurium, with many more, Asbestos and Cecolithus, and Jacinth, that rich couch bore. Galactida, Orites, Enydrus, and Emerald, glowing green, 75 Absist and Alabanda, and Chrysolect had ye seen. Hiennia, Sapphire, Pyrites, and beside them, here and there, Turquoise, and Lipparèa, Chrysolite, and Ruby fair-- Paleisen, Sardius, Diamond, Chrysoprasis, and Malachite, Diadoch, Peanite, and Medus with Beryl and Topaze bright. 80

And many they taught high courage, and others such virtue knew That healing skill they taught men, and fresh life from their power they drew. And many their strength won from them, if aright they might use their art, And therewith would they tend Anfortas whom they loved with a faithful heart-- And great grief had he brought his people, yet joy soon his lot shall be-- 85 To Terre de Salväsch from Ioflanz he rideth to speak him free, Parzival, with the maid and his brother, nor in truth did I ever hear The distance these three had journeyed ere they drew to the Burg anear; But conflict had been their portion had Kondrie not been their guide, But afar from all strife did she hold them, and in peace on their way they ride. 90

So came they at length to an outpost--Then swiftly towards them sped Many Templars well armed and mounted, and right soon they the truth had read, And they knew by the guide that succour at last to their walls should draw, And the Captain he spake out gladly as the Turtle-doves he saw Gleam fair on Kondrie's vesture, 'Now an end hath it found, our grief, 95 With the sign of the Grail he cometh who shall bring to our king relief, The knight we have looked and have longed for since the dawn of our sorrow's day-- Stand ye still, for great gladness cometh, and our mourning is past away!'

Feirefis Angevin would urge him, his brother, to joust to ride, But Kondrie, she grasped his bridle, lest conflict should there betide, 100 And the maiden, true but unlovely, spake thus unto Parzival, 'Shield and banner, thou sure shouldst know them, of the Grail are these heroes all, And ready to do thee service.' Then out spake the heathen bold, 'If so it shall be, from battle mine hand may I well withhold.'

Then Parzival prayed that Kondrie would ride forward, the knights to meet, 105 And she rode, and she spake of the gladness that neared them with flying feet. And, one and all, the Templars sprang straightway unto the ground, And from off their head the helmet in the self-same hour unbound, And Parzival they greeted, and they were in his greeting blest, And Feirefis they welcomed as befitted a noble guest. 110 And then with the twain to Monsalväsch the Templars they took their way; Though they wept, yet methinks that gladness was the fount of their tears that day.

And a countless folk they found there, many grey-haired knights and old, And pages of noble bearing, and of servants, a host untold. And sad were the folk and mournful, whom their coming might well rejoice, 115 And Parzival and his brother they welcomed with friendly voice, And kindly did they receive them, without, in the palace court, At the foot of the noble stairway, and the knights to the hall they brought.

And, e'en as was there the custom, a hundred carpets round, Each one with a couch upon it, were spread there upon the ground; 120 And each couch bare a velvet covering, and methinks, if the twain had wit, The while that the squires disarmed them 'twould pleasure them there to sit. And a chamberlain came towards them, and he brought to them vesture fair, And each should be clad as the other, and many a knight sat there. And they bare many precious vessels of gold, (none I ween was glass,) 125 And the twain they drank, and upstood them to get them to Anfortas.

And this have ye heard of aforetime, how he lay, for he scarce might sit, And the couch and its goodly decking, forsooth have ye read of it. And the twain did Anfortas welcome with gladness, and yet with grief, And he spake, 'O'er-long have I waited tho' I win from thine hand relief; 130 But a while ago didst thou leave me in such wise, art thou true of heart, And thinkest to aid my sorrow, thou must have in repentance part. If e'er men have praised thy valour, then be thou to my woe a friend, And pray of these knights and maidens that death may my torment end; If _Parzival_ men shall call thee, then forbid me the Grail to see 135 Seven nights and eight days, and I wot well my wailing shall silenced be! Nor further I dare to warn thee--Well for thee if thou help canst bring! A stranger shall be thy comrade, and I think it an evil thing That thus he doth stand before me, say wherefore no thought dost take For his comfort, and bid him seat him?' Then Parzival, weeping, spake: 140

'Now say where the Grail It lieth? If God's mercy He think to show, And it be o'er His wrath the victor, this folk, they shall surely know!' Then three times on his knee he bowed him in the Name of the Trinity, And three times he prayed that the sorrow of Anfortas should ended be, Then he stood upright, and he turned him to the monarch, and thus he spake: 145 '_What aileth thee here, mine uncle?_' He who Lazarus from death did wake, And by the mouth of His saint, Sylvester, a dead beast to life did bring, Wrought healing and strength on Anfortas--and all men beheld the king, And what French folk shall know as '_Florie_' it shone on his face so fair, And Parzival's manly beauty was but as the empty air! 150 Yea, Vergulacht, Askalon's monarch, and Absalom, David's son, And all who the dower of beauty as their birthright shall e'er have won-- E'en Gamuret, as men saw him draw near unto Kanvoleis, So wondrous fair to look on--they were naught unto all men's eyes When matched with the radiant beauty that forth from his bitter woe 155 He bare, the King Anfortas--such skill God doth surely know!

No choice was there for the Templars since the writing upon the Grail Had named unto them their ruler, and Parzival did they hail Their king and their lord henceforward; and I ween ye in vain would seek Would ye find two men as wealthy, if of riches I here may speak, 160 As Parzival and his brother, Feirefis Angevin-- And many a proffered service the host and his guest did win.

I know not how many stages queen Kondwiramur had made On her journey towards Monsalväsch, nor, joyful, her steps delayed, For already the truth had been told her, and a messenger tidings bare, 165 And she knew that her grief was ended and her gladness had blossomed fair. And led by her uncle, Kiot, and by many a hero bold, Had she come unto Terre de Salväsch and the wood where they fought of old; Where in joust Segramor had fallen, and her lord did her likeness know In the threefold blood-drops mystic, on the white of the drifted snow. 170 And there should Parzival seek her, and tho' toilsome and rough the way Yet never a gladder journey had he ridden than he rode that day!

Then a Templar tidings brought him, 'E'en as doth her rank beseem Full many a knight so courteous rideth hither beside the queen.' Then Parzival bethought him, with the knights of the Holy Grail 175 To Trevrezent did he ride first, and he told him the wondrous tale; From his heart was the hermit joyful that it thus with Anfortas stood, Nor death was his lot, but the question brought rest to the hero good. And he quoth, 'Yea, God's power is mighty--Who doth at His Council sit? Who hath known of His strength the limit? What Angel hath fathomed it? 180 God is Man, and the Word of His Father; God is Father at once and Son, And I wot thro' His Spirit's working may succour and aid be won!'

Then Trevrezent quoth to his nephew, 'Greater marvel I ne'er may see Than that thou by thy wrath hast won blessing, and th' Eternal Trinity Hath given thee thy desiring! Yet aforetime in sooth I lied, 185 For I thought from the Grail to bring thee, and the truth I from thee would hide. Do thou for my sin give me pardon, henceforth I thy hand obey, O my king, and son of my sister!--Methinks that I once did say That the spirits cast forth from Heaven thereafter the Grail did tend By God's will, and besought His favour, till their penance at last did end. 190 But God to Himself is faithful, and ne'er doth He changing know, Nor to them whom I named as forgiven did He ever forgiveness show. For they who refuse His service, He Himself will, I ween, refuse, And I wot they are lost for ever, and that fate they themselves did choose. And I mourned for thy fruitless labour, for ne'er did the story stand 195 That the Grail might by man be conquered, and I fain had withheld thine hand; But with _thee_ hath the chance been other, and thy prize shall the highest be, But since God's Hand doth give It to thee, turn thine heart to humility.'

Quoth Parzival to his uncle, 'I would see her I ne'er might see For well-nigh five years--When together we dwelt she was dear to me, 200 And no whit less dear shall she now be! Yet thy counsel I fain would hear So long as death fail to part us, thou didst help me in need so drear! Now I ride to my wife, since she cometh to meet me upon my way, By Plimizöl's banks doth she wait me, and leave I from thee would pray.'

And the good man bade 'God speed him,' and he rode thro' the dusky night, 205 And his men knew the woodland pathways--In the early morning light He found that which brought him gladness; full many a tent stood fair, From out the kingdom of Brobarz many banners were planted there, With many a shield beneath them--there lay princes from out his land, And Parzival fain would ask them where the tent of the queen might stand? 210 If her camp lay apart from the others? Then they showed him where she should be, And a goodly ring around her of tents did the hero see. And Duke Kiot of Katelangen, he had risen ere dawn of day, And he looked on the band of riders who came by the woodland way.

And tho' grey was the light of the morning, yet, as the host nearer drew, 215 Kiot saw the Dove on their armour, and the arms of the Grail he knew; And the old man sighed as he thought him of Schoysiané, his lovely bride, How he won her in bliss at Monsalväsch, and how she untimely died. Towards Parzival he stepped him, and he bade him a greeting fair; By a page he bade the queen's Marshal a lodging meet prepare 220 For the knights who had there drawn bridle--in sooth 'twas a gallant band-- Then to the queen's dressing-chamber he led Parzival by the hand, ('Twas a small tent made of buckram,) and there, in the waxing light, His harness they take from off him ere he pass to his lady's sight.

And the queen she knew naught of his coming--her twin sons beside her lay, 225 Lohengrin and Kardeiss; and their father, methinks he was glad that day! There he found them slumbering sweetly, in a tent both high and wide, And many a lovely lady lay sleeping on either side. Then Kiot, he drew the covering from the queen, and he bade her wake, And look, and laugh, and be joyful, and her love to her arms to take; 230 And she looked up and saw her husband; and naught but her smock she bare, The covering she wrapt around her, and sprang swift on the carpet fair, Kondwiramur, the lovely lady--and Parzival held her tight, And they say that they kissed each other, the queen and her faithful knight. 'Thou joy of my heart! Good Fortune hath sent thee again to me,' 235 She quoth, and she bade him welcome, 'Now in sooth I should wrathful be, Yet have I no heart for anger! Ah! blest be the dawn and the day That this dear embrace hath brought me, which all sorrow must drive away. For now at last have I found thee, whom my heart hath desired so long, And grief in my heart is vanquished, and sighing is turned to song.' 240

And now from their sleep they wakened, both Lohengrin and Kardeiss, Naked they lay on their pillows, and fair in their father's eyes, And, joyful, Parzival kissed them whom he never had seen before-- Then at Kiot's courteous bidding the babes from the tent they bore, And Kiot, he bade the maidens to get them from out the tent, 245 And they greeted their lord, long absent, ere yet on their way they went. Then he bade the queen care for her husband, and the maidens from thence he led, And the curtains they drew together, for as yet was the night scarce sped.

Now if blood and snow had robbed him of his senses and wit of yore, (In this self-same spot its message the snow to his true heart bore,) 250 For such sorrow she well repaid him, Kondwiramur, his wife-- Nor elsewhere had he sought love's solace in payment for love's fierce strife, Tho' many their love had proffered--I ween that in bliss he lay, And converse sweet, till morning drew nigh to the middle day.

And the army, they rode together, on the Templars had they gazed, 255 And their shields in jousts were piercèd, and with many a sword-blow grazed; And each knight he wore a surcoat of silk or of velvet rare, And their feet were shod with iron, nor harness beside they bare.

Nor longer they cared to slumber--Then the queen alike and king Arose, and e'en as they bade him, a priest the Mass would sing; 260 And closely they thronged together, that army, brave and good, Who in their queen's day of peril her shield 'gainst Klamidé stood. Then, the benediction given, his men greeted Parzival, Many gallant knights and worthy, their true words from true lips must fall.

From the tent they take the hangings, and the king spake, 'Say which is he, 265 Of my boys, who henceforward ruler of your folk and your land shall be?' And further he spake to the princes, 'Both Waleis and Norgal's land, And their towns, Kingrivals and Kanvoleis, by his birthright shall serve his hand, With Béalzenan and Anjou, should he grow unto man's estate; And thither shall ye fare with him, and shall there on his bidding wait. 270 Gamuret was he called, my father, and he left them to me, his heir, But I, by God's grace, have won me an heritage yet more fair! Since the Grail shall be mine, I bid ye your fealty to swear anew To my child, ere this hour be ended, if your hearts shall to me be true!' And of right goodwill they did this--Ye saw many proud banners wave, 275 And two little hands the tenure of many a wide land gave. And there did they crown Kardeiss king; and, when many a year had flown, Kanvoleis, and Gamuret's kingdom they needs must his lordship own-- And then by Plimizöl's water did they measure a circle wide That there a feast might be holden ere again on their way they ride. 280 Nor long at the board they tarried; no longer the host might stay, The tents were struck, with their child-king they wended their homeward way.

And many a maid and vassal must bid to their queen Farewell In such wise that they made loud mourning, and many a teardrop fell. And Lohengrin and his mother did the Templars take in their care, 285 And with them to the Burg of Monsalväsch again on their journey fare. Quoth Parzival, 'Once in this woodland an hermitage did I see, And thro' it a rippling brooklet flowed swift on its way so free; If ye know where it stands ye shall show me.' His comrades swift answer gave, They knew one; 'There dwells a maiden, and she weeps o'er her true love's grave; 290 A shrine of all goodness is she--Our road it doth lead that way, And her heart is ne'er free from sorrow.' 'That maid will we see to-day,' Quoth Parzival, and the others, as he willed, so they thought it good, And onward they spurred their chargers, and rode thro' the lonely wood.

And they found, in the dusk of the evening, on her knees Siguné dead, 295 And the queen wept for bitter sorrow--Then they brake thro' unto the maid; Parzival, for the sake of his cousin, bade them raise of the tomb the stone, There, embalmed lay Schionatulander, nor long should he lie alone, For beside him they laid the maiden, who in life to him true love gave In such wise as beseemed a maiden, and they closed o'er the twain the grave. 300 And she wept for her uncle's daughter, the queen, with a faithful heart; Schoysiané, the dead maid's mother, had shown her a mother's part, And had cared for her in her childhood, and therefore she sorrow knew: And Parzival's aunt, too, was she, if the tale Kiot read be true.

Kiot knew not the death of his daughter, he was guardian to King Kardeiss-- 305 (Nor my tale like the bow shall be bended, but straight as an arrow flies,) They delayed not upon their journey, to Monsalväsch they came by night, And the hours Feirefis must wait them sped swift in their joyful flight. And they lighted many a taper, 'twas as flamed all the woodland wide, And a Templar of Patrigalt, armèd, by the queen's bridle rein did ride; 310 And broad and wide was the courtyard, and many a host stood there, And they welcomed the queen, and a greeting to their lord and his son they bare; And they bore Lohengrin to his uncle, Feirefis, who was black and white, And the babe turned aside nor would kiss him--as children oft do from fright!

But gaily he laughed, the heathen--Then they gat them from out the court, 315 When first the queen had dismounted, who joy with her coming brought-- And they led the guests so noble, where, with many a lady fair, Both Feirefis and Anfortas awaited them on the stair. Répanse de Schoie, and from Greenland, Garschiloie, the fair of face, Florie of Lünel, the bright-eyed, rich were they in maiden grace. 320 There she stood, than a reed more graceful, to whom beauty nor truth should fail, The daughter of Reil's lord, Jernis, as Anflisé the maid they hail; And of Tenabroc, maid Clarischanz, sweet was she, and bright to see, And so slender her shape, I think me, an ant's scarce might slighter be.

Feirefis stepped toward his hostess, and he kissed her e'en as she bade, 325 And a kiss did she give Anfortas, for she joyed that his woe was stayed. Feirefis by the hand must lead her where her husband's aunt she found, Répanse de Schoie, and she kissed her, and the maidens who stood around, And her lips that were red aforetime thro' kissing grew yet more red, (And sorely I ween doth it grieve me, that this labour, I, in her stead, 330 Might not here have taken on me, for weary in sooth was she;) Then her maids by the hand they take her, and they lead her in courteously.

And the knights, in the hall they waited, that with countless tapers bright Was decked, on the walls they sparkled, and burnt with a steady light, For a solemn feast they made ready, when the Grail should be shown to all; 335 For it was not on every feast-day, that they bare It thro' the hall, But on high festivals only--When nearer their aid should draw, On that even when joy forsook them, and the bleeding spear they saw, 'Twas then, that the Grail might help them, that It thus thro' the hall was borne-- Yet Parzival asked no question, and left them of joy forlorn-- 340 But now, in joy and gladness, might they look on the Grail again, For at last was their mourning ended, and their sorrow was pierced and slain!

When the queen her riding garment had put off, and decked her hair, She came in such garb as beseemed her, in the light of the tapers fair; And Feirefis stepped to meet her, and he took her by the hand, 345 And no man gainsaid his fellow, that in this, or in other land, None might speak of a fairer woman! And rich was the garb she wore, A silk by a skilled hand woven, such as Sarant had wrought of yore, And with cunning and skill had fashioned in Thasmé, the paynim town-- Feirefis Angevin, he led her thro' the palace hall adown, 350 And the three great fires they burnt there with Lignum aloe sweet; And more there were by forty, both carpets alike and seats, Than the time when Parzival sat there and looked on the wondrous Grail, But one seat above all was costly, nor the host to his place should fail. And Feirefis, and Anfortas, they should sit there beside the king-- 355 And, courteous, they did them service, who the Grail to the hall should bring.

Aforetime methinks ye heard it, how they to Anfortas bare The Grail, even so would they do now 'fore the child of King Tampentäre, And Gamuret's son--The maidens, no longer they make delay, Five-and-twenty in rightful order they wend thro' the hall their way. 360 And Feirefis gazed on the first maid, with her sweet face and waving hair, And she pleased him well, yet the others who followed were yet more fair; And costly and rich their garments, and lovely each maiden's face, But Répanse de Schoie, who followed, was first in her maiden grace, And the Grail, so men have told me, might be borne by her hands alone; 365 Pure was her heart, and radiant as sunlight her fair face shone.

Did I tell ye of all the service--how many did water pour, And the tables they bare, (I wot well far more than they had of yore,) How discord fled from the palace; how the cars on their circuit rolled, With their freight of golden vessels, 'twere long ere the tale were told. 370 For the sake of speed would I hasten--with reverence from the Grail Each took of the fowl of the forest, wild or tame, nor their drink should fail; Each took wine or mead as it pleased him, Claret, Morass, or Sinopel; At Pelrapär 'twas far other, as Gamuret's son might tell!

Then the heathen would know the wonder--What hands did these gold cups fill 375 That stood empty here before him? The wonder, it pleased him still! Then answered the fair Anfortas, who sat by the heathen's side, 'Seest thou not the Grail before thee?' But Feirefis replied, 'Naught I see but a green Achmardi, that my Lady but now did bear, I mean her who stands before us with the crown on her flowing hair, 380 And her look to mine heart hath piercèd--I deemed I so strong should be That never a wife nor a maiden my gladness should take from me; But now doth it sore displease me, the love I may call mine own-- Discourteous indeed I think me to make unto thee my moan When I never have done thee service! What profits my wealth, I trow, 385 Or the deeds I have done for fair women, or the gifts that I gave but now, Since here I must live in anguish! Nay, Jupiter, thou wast fain I should ride here, didst hither send me to torment of grief and pain?'

And the strength of his love, and his sorrow, turned him pale where he erst was light-- Kondwiramur, she had found a rival in this maiden's beauty bright-- 390 In her love-meshes did she hold him, Feirefis, the noble guest, And the love that he erst had cherished he cast it from out his breast. What recked he of Sekundillé, her love, and her land so fair, Since she wrought on him woe so bitter, this maiden beyond compare? Klauditté, and Sekundillé, Olympia, and many more, 395 Who in distant lands had repaid him with love for his deeds of yore, What cared he now for their kindness? It seemed but a worthless thing To Gamuret's son, the heathen, great Zassamank's noble king!

Then he saw, the fair Anfortas, his comrade in pain so sore, (For the spots in his skin waxed pallid, and heavy the heart he bore,) 400 And he spake, 'Sir Knight, it doth grieve me if thou dost for my sister mourn, No man for her sake hath sorrowed since the day that the maid was born. No knight for her joust hath ridden; to none doth she favour show; But with me did she dwell at Monsalväsch, and hath shared in my bitter woe, And it somewhat hath dimmed her beauty, since she seldom hath joyful been-- 405 Thy brother is son to her sister, he may help thee in this I ween.'

'If that maiden shall be thy sister,' quoth Feirefis Angevin, 'Who the crown on her loose locks weareth, then help me her love to win. 'Tis she that my heart desireth--What honour mine hand hath won With shield and spear in Tourney, for her sake hath it all been done, 410 And I would she might now reward me! The Tourney hath fashions five, And well known unto me is each one, nor against knightly rule I strive. Spear in rest 'gainst the foe have I ridden; I have smitten him from the side; His onslaught have I avoided; nor to fair joust have failed to ride In gallop, as should beseem me; I have followed the flying foe-- 415 Since the shield, it hath been my safeguard, such sorrow I ne'er may know As that which to-day besets me--I have fought with a fiery knight At Agremontein, I bare then a shield of Asbestos bright, And a surcoat of Salamander, else sure had I there been burned; And in sooth my life have I perilled, and my fame have I dearly earned. 420 Ah! would but thy sister send me to battle for love's reward, In strife would I do her bidding, and her fame and mine own would guard. And ever my heart fierce hatred to my god Jupiter shall bear, If he make not an end of my sorrow, and give me this maiden fair!'

Of the twain, Frimutel was the father, and therefore Anfortas bore 425 E'en such face and such form as his sister--Then the heathen, he looked once more On the maiden and then on her brother--What they bare him of drink or meat No morsel he ate, yet he sat there as one who made feint to eat.

Then to Parzival spake Anfortas, 'Sir King, it doth seem to me That thy brother, who sitteth by me, he faileth the Grail to see!' 430 And Feirefis spake that he saw naught, nor knew what It was 'the Grail'; And they hearkened his words, the Templars, and a marvel they deemed the tale. And Titurel needs must hear it, in his chamber the old king lay, And he quoth, 'If he be a heathen, then such thought shall he put away As that eyes unbaptized may win them the power to behold the Grail! 435 Such barriers are built around It, his sight to the task shall fail.'

Then they bare to the hall these tidings, and the host and Anfortas told How that which the folk did nourish, Feirefis, he might ne'er behold, Since from heathen eyes It was hidden, and they prayed him to seek the grace Of Baptism, by its virtue he should win him in Heaven a place. 440

'If I, for your sake, be baptizèd, will that help me to win my love?' Spake Gamuret's son, the heathen--'As a wind shall all sorrows prove, That wooing or war shall have brought me, to the grief that I now must feel! If long or short the time be since I first felt the touch of steel, And fought 'neath a shield, such anguish ne'er hath fallen unto my share, 445 And tho' love should, I ween, be hidden, yet my heart would its grief declare!'

'Of whom dost thou speak?' quoth the Waleis, 'Of none but that lady bright, Who is sister to this, thy comrade--If thou, as a faithful knight, Wilt help me to win the maiden, I will give her with kingly hand Great riches, and men shall hail her as queen over many a land!' 450 'If to Baptism thou wilt yield thee,' spake the host, 'then her love is thine, (And as _thou_ I right well may hail thee, since the Grail and Its realm are mine, And our riches methinks are equal)'--Quoth Feirefis Angevin, 'Then help me to bliss, my brother, that the love of thine aunt I win. And, if Baptism be won by battle, then help me to strife I pray, 455 That I, for sweet love's rewarding, may do service without delay. And mine ear well doth love the music when the spear-shafts in splinters break, And the helmet rings clear 'neath the sword-thrust, and the war-cry the echo wakes.'

Then Parzival laughed out gaily, and Anfortas, he laughed yet more, 'Nay, nay,' quoth the host, 'such blessing is no guerdon for deeds of war. 460 I will give unto thee the maiden, by true Baptism's grace and power, But the god and the love of a heathen shalt thou leave in the self-same hour; And to-morrow, at early dawning, will I give to thee counsel true, Whose fruit shall be seen in the crowning of thy life with a blessing new!'

Now Anfortas, before his sickness, in many a distant land 465 Had won him fair fame, for Love's sake, by the deeds of his knightly hand. And the thoughts of his heart were gentle, and generous he was and free, And his right hand had won full often the guerdon of victory; So they sat in the wondrous presence of the Grail, three heroes true, The best of their day, and the bravest that sword-blade in battle drew. 470

An ye will, they enough had eaten--They, courteous, the tables bare From the hall, and as serving-maidens, low bent they, those maidens fair. And Feirefis Angevin saw them as forth from the hall they passed, And in sorrow and deeper anguish I ween was the hero cast. And she who his heart held captive, she bare from the hall the Grail, 475 And leave did they crave of their monarch, nor his will to their will should fail.

How the queen, herself, she passed hence; how men did their task begin; Of the bedding soft they brought him who for love's pain no rest might win; How one and all, the Templars, with kindness would put away His grief, 'twere too long to tell ye--speak we now of the dawning day. 480

In the light of the early morning came his brother, Parzival, With the noble knight Anfortas, and in this wise the tale they tell; This knight who to love was captive, proud Zassamank's lord and king, They prayed, of true heart, to follow, and they would to the Temple bring, And before the Grail they led him--And there had they bidden stand 485 The wisest men of the Templars--knights and servants, a goodly band, Were there ere the heathen entered: the Font was a ruby rare, And it stood on a rounded pillar that of Jasper was fashioned fair, And of old Titurel, he gave it, and the cost was great I ween-- Then Parzival spake to his brother, 'This maid wouldst thou have for queen, 490 Then the gods thou hast served henceforward thou shalt for her sake forswear, And ever thine arms, as a true knight, 'gainst the foes of the true God bear, And, faithful, still do His bidding'--'Yea, aught that may win my love,' Quoth the heathen, 'I'll do right gladly, and my deeds shall my truth approve.' Now the Font, toward the Grail had they turned it, filled with water, nor hot nor cold, 495 And a priest by its side did wait them, and grey-haired he was, and old; He had plunged 'neath baptismal waters full many a paynim child, And he spake to the noble heathen, and gentle his speech and mild-- 'If thy soul thou wouldst wrest from the Devil, thou shalt serve Him who reigns on high, And Threefold is He, yet but One God for aye is the Trinity. 500 God is Man, and the Word of His Father, God is Father at once and Son, And alike shall the twain be honoured, and the Spirit with them is One! In the Threefold Name shall it cleanse thee, this water, with Threefold might, And from shadow of heathen darkness shalt thou pass into Christian light. In water was He baptizèd, in Whose likeness was Adam made, 505 And each tree from the water draweth its sap, and its leafy shade. By water all flesh is nourished, and all that on earth doth live, And the eyes of man are quickened, such virtue doth water give; And many a soul it cleanseth, till it shineth so pure and white That the angels themselves in heaven methinks shall be scarce so bright!' 510

To the priest then he spake, the heathen, 'If it bringeth me ease for woe I will swear whatsoe'er thou biddest--If reward in her love I know, Then gladly I'll do His bidding--Yea, brother, I here believe In the God of my love, and for her sake all other gods I'll leave, (For such sorrow as she hath brought me I never have known before,) 515 And it profiteth naught Sekundillé the love that to me she bore, And the honour that she hath done me--All that shall have passed away-- In the Name of the God of my father would I fain be baptized to-day!'

Then the priest laid his hands upon him, and the blessing baptismal gave, And he did on the chrisom vesture, and he won what his soul did crave, 520 For e'en as he was baptizèd they made ready the maiden mild, And for christening gift they gave him King Frimutel's lovely child.

From his eyes had the Grail been hidden ere baptismal waters bright Had passed o'er his head, but henceforward, 'twas unveiled to his wondering sight, And, e'en as the rite was over, on the Grail they this writing read; 525 'The Templar whom God henceforward to a strange folk should send as head, Must forbid all word or question of his country, or name, or race, If they willed he aright should help them, and they would in his sight find grace. For the day that they ask the question that folk must he leave straightway'-- Since the time that their king, Anfortas, so long in his anguish lay, 530 And the question o'er-long awaited, all questions but please them ill, The knights of the Grail, and no man doth question them with their will.

Then, baptized, Feirefis the Christian to Anfortas made urgent prayer, He should ride with him to his kingdom, and his riches with him should share; But, with courtesy, Anfortas to the knight and his prayer said 'Nay, 535 Naught shall hinder the willing service that to God I would give alway; 'Tis a goodly crown, the Grail crown, thro' pride was it lost to me, Henceforth do I choose as my portion a life of humility, And riches and love of women shall be strangers unto my heart-- Thou leadest with thee a fair wife, henceforth shall it be her part 540 With true love to reward thy service, as to women is fit and fair, But I for the love of mine Order henceforward mine arms will bear; For the Grail and Its service only I many a joust will ride, But I fight never more for women--thro' a woman did ill betide! Yet no hatred I bear to women, high courage and joy they give 545 Unto men, tho' _I_ won but sorrow while I did in their service live.'

But yet, for the sake of his sister, Feirefis rested not to pray That Anfortas should journey with them, but ever he said them nay. Then he prayed Lohengrin should fare with him, but the mother, she willed it not; And King Parzival spake, 'In the service of the Grail hath he part and lot, 550 And my son, he is pledged to the Order, and a faithful heart and true Must he bear in the holy service--God grant him the will thereto!'

Then in joy and in fair diversion, till eleven days were o'er, Feirefis abode at Monsalväsch, on the twelfth would he ride once-more, He would lead his wife, this rich man, to his army that yet did wait 555 His coming, and Parzival sorrowed for the brother he won so late, And mourned sore when he heard the tidings--Then counsel he took straightway, And a goodly force of the Templars did he send with them on their way, Thro' the woodland paths should they guide them--Anfortas, the gallant knight, Himself fain would be their escort--sore wept many maidens bright. 560

And new pathways they needs must cut them to Karkobra's city fair-- Then Anfortas, he sent a message to him who was Burg-grave there; And he bade him, if aye of aforetime rich gifts from his hand he won To bethink him, that so this service of true heart by him be done; His brother-in-law with his lady, the king's sister, he now must guide 565 Thro' the wood Loehprisein, where the haven afar lieth wild and wide-- For now 'twas the hour of parting, nor further the knights must fare, But Anfortas, he spake to Kondrie, and he bade her the message bear. Then from Feirefis, the rich man, the Templars leave did pray, And the courteous knight and noble rode hence on his homeward way. 570

And the Burg-grave no whit delayed him, but he did e'en at Kondrie's word, And gave welcome fair and knightly to the folk and their noble lord. Nor might Feirefis grow weary of his stay, at the dawn of day, With many a knight as escort, they guided him on his way. But I know not how far he had ridden, nor the countries his eyes had seen 575 Ere he came once more to Ioflanz, and its meadow, so fair and green.

And some of the folk yet abode there--and Feirefis fain had known, In the self-same hour, the tidings of whither the host had flown; For each one had sought his country, and the road that full well he knew-- King Arthur to Camelot journeyed with many a hero true-- 580 Then he of Tribalibot hastened, and his army he sought once more, For his ships lay yet in the haven, and they grieved for their lord full sore And his coming brought joy and courage to many a hero bold-- The Burg-grave and his knights from Karkobra he rewarded with gifts and gold-- And strange news did they tell unto Kondrie, for messengers sought the host, 585 Sekundillé was dead; with the tidings they many a sea had crossed. Then first in her distant journey did Répanse de Schoie find joy, And in India's realm hereafter did she bear to the king a boy; And _Prester John_ they called him, and he won to himself such fame That henceforward all kings of his country were known by no other name. 590 And Feirefis sent a writing thro' the kingdoms whose crown he bore, And the Christian Faith was honoured as it never had been of yore. (And Tribalibot was that country which as _India_ here we know.) Then Feirefis spake to Kondrie, and he bade her his brother show (Who reigneth in far Monsalväsch) what had chanced unto him, the king, 595 And the death of Queen Sekundillé--and the tidings the maid did bring; And Anfortas was glad and joyful to think that his sister fair, Without or strife or conflict, the crown of those lands might bear.

Now aright have ye heard the story of the children of Frimutel, Five they were, and three are living, and death unto two befell. 600 And the one was Schoysiané, who was pure in the sight of God, And the other was Herzeleide, and falsehood her soul abhorred; And the sword and the life of knighthood, Trevrezent, he had laid them down For the love of God, and His service, and the hope of a deathless crown. And the gallant knight, Anfortas, pure heart and strong hand he bore, 605 And well for the Grail he jousted, but for women he fought no more. And Lohengrin grew to manhood, and cowardice from him flew, And his heart yearned for deeds of knighthood, to the Grail he did service true.

Would ye further hear the story? A maiden, in days of yore, Whose heart was free from falsehood, the crown of a fair land bore-- 610 Her heirdom was rich and noble, and lowly and pure her heart, And no taint of earthly longing had found in her soul a part. And wooers she had in plenty, of crownèd kings, I ween, And princes, whose race and kingdom fit mate for her own had been. Yet so humble she was, the maiden, she thought not of earthly love-- 615 And the counts of her realm waxed wrathful, since no pleading her soul could move, And their anger raged hot against her that she gave not her maiden hand To one who should be fit ruler o'er her folk, and her goodly land. In God was her trust, whatever men might in their anger speak, And guiltless, she bare the vengeance her folk on her head would wreak. 620 But she called of her land the princes, and they journeyed from far and near, From many a distant country, the will of their queen to hear. And she sware she would have no husband, and no man as her lord would own Save him whom God's Hand should send her, his love would she wait alone.

Of the land of Brabant was she princess--From Monsalväsch he came, the knight 625 Whom God at His will should send her, and his guide was a swan so white. He set foot in her land at Antwerp, and she knew that her heart spake true, And gallant was he to look on, and all men the hero knew For a noble knight and manly, and his face, it was wondrous fair, And his fame was in every kingdom where men did his deeds declare. 630 And a wise man he was, free-handed, with never a doubting heart, And faithful and true, and falsehood it found in his life no part.

A fair welcome the princess gave him--now list ye unto his rede, Rich and poor stood there around him, and they gave to his words good heed, And he spake thus, 'My Lady Duchess, if thou wilt not mine hand refuse, 635 But wilt have me for lord and husband, for thy sake I a kingdom lose-- But hearken to what I pray thee, ask thou never who I may be, And seek not to know my country, for so may I abide with thee. In the day thou dost ask the question of my love shalt thou be bereft-- Take thou warning, lest God recall me to the land which erewhile I left.' 640 Then she pledged her faith as a woman that her love, it should ne'er wax less, She would do e'en as he should bid her, and never his will transgress So long as God wit should give her--Her love did he win that night, And Lord of Brabant and its Duchess they hailed him with morning light.

And the marriage feast was costly, and many a knight the land 645 That of right should be his, as vassal, must take from his princely hand. For he gave ever righteous judgment, and many a gallant deed Of knighthood he did, and, valiant, he won of fair fame his meed. Fair children were born unto them--The folk of Brabant yet know Of the twain, how he came unto them, and wherefore he thence must go, 650 And how long he dwelt among them ere her question broke the spell, And drove him forth, unwilling, for so shall the story tell. The friendly swan, it sought him, and a little boat did bring, And he sailed thence, and left as tokens his sword, and his horn, and ring. So _Lohengrin_ passed from among them, for in sooth this gallant knight 655 Was Parzival's son, and none other, if the tale ye would know aright. By water-ways he sought it, the home of the Grail, again-- And what of the lovely duchess who longed for her lord in vain? Why drove she hence her true love? since he bade her be warned of yore, And forbade her to ask the question when he landed on Brabant's shore-- 660 Here Herr Erec should speak, for, I think me, he knoweth the tale to tell Of revenging for broken pledges, and the fate that such speech befell!

If Chrêtien of Troyes, the master, hath done to this tale a wrong, Then _Kiot_ may well be wrathful, for he taught us aright the song, To the end the Provençal told it--How Herzeleide's son the Grail 665 Did win, as was fore-ordainèd when Anfortas thereto did fail. And thus, from Provence, the story to the German land was brought, And aright was it told, and the story doth lack in its ending naught. I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, think me that here-of will I speak no more-- Of Parzival's race, and his kindred, of that have I told afore; 670 To the goal of his bliss have I brought him--he whose life such an end shall gain, That his soul doth not forfeit Heaven for sins that his flesh shall stain, And yet, as true man and worthy, the world's favour and grace doth keep Hath done well, nor hath lost his labour, nor his fame shall hereafter sleep! And if good and gracious women shall think I be worthy praise, 675 Since I tell to its end my story, then joyful shall be my days. And since for the love of a woman I have sung it, this song of old, I would that, in sweet words gentle, my guerdon by her be told!

APPENDICES

EXCURSUS A

WOLFRAM'S SOURCE

In examining into the source whence Wolfram derived this poem, it may be well to restate briefly the problem as indicated in the Preface. We may take it as an acknowledged fact, disputed by none, that for the bulk of his work, from the commencement of Books III. to XIII., and inclusive of part of the latter, Wolfram drew from a French source; he himself says that this source was the poem of 'Kiot the Provençal,' and, while acquainted with the work of Chrêtien de Troyes, he distinctly avows his preference for Kiot over Chrêtien, saying that Chrêtien had told the story wrongly, for which Kiot might well be wrathful with him. From this we gather that, granting the existence of the two French versions, Kiot's had preceded Chrêtien's.

The difficulties in the way of accepting Wolfram's own definite statement are twofold: first, that no trace of such a poem, or such a poet, exists (which in itself is not an insuperable difficulty); second, and more serious, that we do possess the poem of Chrêtien de Troyes, and that it presents such striking features of similarity to Wolfram's version that it is clear that if one were not the source of the other, there is a common source at the root of both.

Now, of Chrêtien's source he only tells us that Count Philip of Flanders gave him the book in which he found this story of Perceval and the Grail, but of the author of the book he says no word. Of Kiot's source, Wolfram tells us that the story of the origin of the Grail was found in a MS. at Toledo, written in Arabic by a heathen astronomer, Flegetanis; and it also appears, from a passage in Book VIII. p. 238, that the story of Parzival was contained in the same MS. That Kiot then sought through the chronicles of various countries for some confirmation of the tale, and finally found the record of the Grail kings in the chronicles of Anjou.

Of the sources thus variously given, the book possessed by Count Philip of Flanders, the Arabic MS. of Flegetanis, the Chronicles of Anjou, and Kiot's poem founded upon these two last, the Chronicles of Anjou alone remain to us; do they throw any light on the question or not? It has long been asserted that they do _not_, and it is true that they contain no record of the Grail kings, nor, though King Arthur is mentioned, and treated as an historical personage, do we find any mention of Mazadan, Gamuret, Herzeleide, and Parzival under the same names; but it also seems equally clear that the writer of the _Parzival_ knew the Chronicles of Anjou, and in the case of each of the characters mentioned above it is not difficult to trace a distinct correspondence between what is recorded in the _Parzival_ and real personages and events of Angevin history. (A reference to Appendix A, vol. i., 'on the Angevin allusions' will show how close in some cases this parallel is.) Now we find that the greater number of these allusions are contained in the earlier part of the poem, Books I., II., and III., some of the most striking, _e.g._ the account of the origin of the Angevin House; the parallel between Gamuret and Fulk V.; and the introduction of Herzeleide, being in the two first books; _i.e._ that part of the poem peculiar to Wolfram's version is also the part of the poem richest in indications of a knowledge of Angevin history.

The fact that Wolfram has an introduction, and a completion, to the Perceval legend which agree perfectly one with the other, and are not found elsewhere, naturally leads to the inference that he either had a source other than Chrêtien, or that he invented the books himself; which latter Simrock claims to have been the case. In a case of this kind, where there is an utter lack of external testimony to help us, we can only judge from the internal evidence of the work itself, and here we are met at the outset by the startling phenomenon of a poem, ascribed to the invention of a _German_ poet, abounding in allusions to a contemporary _French_ line of princes, and evidently designed for the glorification of that house. It is perfectly true that the princely family in question had risen to a point of greatness that resulted in their dominating for some years European politics, but, in the absence of any testimony connecting Wolfram with the House of Anjou, we are at least entitled to ask how he possibly came to give such a colour to his poem. It is impossible to avoid being perplexed by such questions as these; how did Wolfram come to be so familiar with the early history of the Angevin counts? If he wished to glorify any reigning prince why did he not choose a German, say Hermann of Thuringia, rather than lead to the suspicion that he wished to compliment a house represented at the time _he_ wrote by its very worst and weakest descendant, John of Anjou and England? Why did he lay the adventures of his hero's father in the East, and bring into the story the curious and enigmatic personality of Feirefis, and, having invented him, give him a name of undoubted _French_ origin? And even if we pass over the difficulties of the first two books we are met by other questions just as puzzling, _e.g._ why did Wolfram, who had so high an idea of fidelity to his source, and who blamed so strongly the leading poet of his day for the fault of departing from his supposed model, represent the Grail and the dwellers in Its castle in the light in which he did? There is no parallel to his Grail-stone or the 'Templeisen' throughout the whole Grail literature, and we cannot escape from the alternative of admitting that if Wolfram did not invent all this he found it in a source unknown to us.

The problem of the Grail has been attempted to be solved by the hypothesis of a misunderstanding of Chrêtien de Troyes, this solution is of course _possible_, but it must be admitted that it has the appearance rather of an ingenious evasion than an explanation of a difficulty, and it holds good for nothing beyond the bare presentment of the Grail as a _stone_. The Angevin problem, on the other hand, has so far never been solved at all, and only its removal hinted at by the suggestion that Walter Mapes was the author of Wolfram's source, which of course admits that Wolfram _had_ a source other than Chrêtien, and therefore by implication throws doubt on the above suggested explanation of the Grail which is based on the supposition that Chrêtien, and Chrêtien alone, was the source of Wolfram's information. In fact, so long as we refuse to admit the truth of Wolfram's own explicit statements, so long shall we find the interpretation of the _Parzival_ beset with innumerable difficulties, the attempted explanation of one part of the problem only rendering the remaining portion more obscure; but if we will accept it as possible that Wolfram gave a correct account of the source of his poem, and, divesting our minds of all preconceived ideas in favour of this or that theory, carefully examine the indications afforded by the poem itself, we may find that there _is_ a solution which will meet, more or less fully, all the difficulties which beset the question. Now, as remarked above, when Wolfram wrote his poem the power of the Angevin House was beginning to decline, the date assigned to the _Parzival_, with which date all the internal evidences agree, is within the first fifteen years of the thirteenth century, a period exactly corresponding to the reign of John, and it may be the first two or three years of that of his successor Henry III., and it was during the fatuous misgovernment of these princes that the edifice so carefully built up by the early Angevin counts fell to pieces. Works in glorification of any special house or kingdom are not, as a rule, written during that house or kingdom's period of decadence, rather during its time of growth and aggrandisement, and we find as a fact that the events which led to the accession of an Angevin count to the throne of England 'stirred up, during the early years of Henry Fitz-Empress' reign, a spirit of patriotic loyalty which led more than one of his subjects to collect the floating popular traditions of his race, and weave them into a narrative which passed for a history of the Angevin counts.' (Cf. _England under the Angevin Kings_, vol. ii. p. 195.) It is therefore to this period rather than to a later date, _i.e._ to Wolfram's source rather than to Wolfram himself, that historical testimony would bid us assign the Angevin allusions. History also forbids us to assume that _Chrêtien_ could have been the source of Wolfram's information; Chrêtien was of Troyes, in Champagne, therefore an adherent of the House of Blois who were hereditary foes of the Angevin counts, and not without reason, as the latter were most undesirable neighbours, and never lost a chance of increasing their dominions at the expense of their fellow-princes. At one time or another, either by marriage or by conquest, they annexed all the surrounding estates (though they grasped considerably more than they could permanently hold), and after the marriage of Henry Fitz-Empress with Eleanor of Aquitaine, the heiress of Poitou and Guyenne, and of his son Geoffrey with Constance of Brittany, the whole of the coast-line of France belonged to the Angevin possessions. It was not surprising that princes of such an acquisitive nature should have many enemies, and when Henry's sons rebelled against him they were not without friends to back them up, among them, apparently, was the very Count Philip of Flanders from whom Chrêtien received the book from whence he drew his poem. If then Wolfram in his first two books was following a French poet, that poet was _not_ Chrêtien.

But if the Angevin counts had many foes they had also many adherents, not only in Europe but in the East, their connection with which dated back to the reign of Fulk Nerra, or Fulk the Palmer. It was not to a member of an unknown house that Baldwin, king of Jerusalem, in 1129 sent an invitation to become his son-in-law and successor; nor did Fulk, when he left Anjou for Jerusalem, go alone--we are expressly told that he took a large army with him. Fulk himself died in 1142, but he left sons who succeeded him, so that the Angevin rule in the East did not end with his death.

Is it then impossible, or even improbable, that this 'Kiot the Provençal' of whom Wolfram speaks was an adherent of the House of Anjou, who had followed their fortunes in the East, and who, coming under the spell of the Grail myth in its connection with the Perceval legend, remodelled the story, probably then still in a rough and transitional form, in accordance with his own personal experiences and prepossessions? Do not all the indications afforded by the poem favour this theory? Such a man would have been thoroughly familiar with the legends that had gathered round the early Angevin princes, as well as with the historical facts connected with their successors; he would have come into contact with the Order of the Knights Templars in a land where they were in deed, and not merely in name, guardians of the Faith; he would be familiar with many a legend of precious stones, the favourite talisman of the East, and would know the special virtue ascribed to each; above all, he would have seen before him in a concrete form the contest between faith and unbelief, darkness and light, Christianity and Heathendom, a black race and a white, which forms at least one of the leading ideas in the interpretation of the poem.

In fact, if we will allow the existence of such a writer as a travelled Angevin might well have been, we shall find all the principal problems of the _Parzival_ admit of a rational explanation. Even the central puzzle, Wolfram's representation of the Grail, is explicable on such an hypothesis. We know how very vague Chrêtien's account of the Grail is; how much in the dark he leaves us as to Its outward form, Its influence, and Its origin. A writer _before_ Chrêtien is scarcely likely to have been more explicit; what more likely than that a man long resident in the East, and familiar, as has been said above, with Eastern jewel talismans and the legends connected with them, when confronted with this mysterious Grail, of which no definite account was given, yet which apparently exercised a magical life-sustaining influence, should have jumped to the conclusion of Its, at least partial, identity with the precious stones of the power of which he had heard so much?

And in connection with this it is worthy of note that Wolfram represents the Grail as lying on a _green_ Achmardi; in other versions of the Grail romances it is red, or white, samite that we find mentioned as veiling the relic. Throughout the poem we find _green_ constantly mentioned, _e.g._ Gamuret's equipment, the robes of the Grail maidens and of Gramoflanz, the cross over Gamuret's grave, Trevrezent's shrine or reliquary; all these allusions seem to point to the writer's familiarity with green as a royal and sacred colour, a knowledge which could only have been gained in the East. Nor, as mentioned in note to Book IX., is the description of the Grail the only instance of a mystical influence being attributed to a precious stone, but throughout the whole poem the constant mention of gems, and, in special instances, of the virtue they possess, is one of the marked peculiarities of the poem, and one of the features which differentiate it from Chrêtien's version.

That Wolfram had a model for these earlier books, and one that he was following closely, appears from the description he gives in two places of Kailet's armour; in Book I. we find '_do rekande ich abr wol dinen strûs, ame schilde ein sarapandra test_,' and in Book II. '_stit dîn strûs noch sunder nest? Du solt din sarapandra test gein sinem halben grîfen tragen_,' where in both instances it is distinctly implied that Kailet had _two_ badges, an ostrich on his helmet and a snake's head on his shield, which is, to say the least, extremely unlikely. What seems to be really meant is that Kailet carried the figure of the entire bird on his helmet, and a representation of its head on his shield; the likeness in the shape of the latter to a snake's head has often been commented upon, and the ostrich, from its curious head and neck, has been known as 'the serpent bird.' It seems clear that here at least Wolfram was following another description, and one which he did not altogether understand.

As to the conclusion to be drawn from the proper names which occur in such profusion throughout the poem, this question has been so fully treated by Bartsch (cf. vol. i. Appendix B) that it would be superfluous to discuss it here; and the correspondence between the Titurel poems and the Parzival, which argues a common source for both, has also been adequately discussed, but the addition of the arguments to be derived from the correspondence existing between Wolfram's Angevin allusions and the facts of Angevin history, seems to put it beyond doubt that there is a strong body of evidence in support of Wolfram's own statement that he had a French source other than Chrêtien de Troyes; and, if we admit that he spoke the truth so far, it seems only logical to believe that he was also speaking the truth when he gave the name of the author of his source as '_Kiot the Provençal_.'

EXCURSUS B

RELATION OF WOLFRAM TO CHRÊTIEN

In explanation of the striking agreement which exists between the _Parzival_ of Wolfram von Eschenbach and that part of _Li Conte del Graal_ which we owe to Chrêtien de Troyes, three solutions may be suggested: (_a_) That Chrêtien was the source of Wolfram; (_b_) That Chrêtien and Wolfram both drew from a common source, that source, if Wolfram is to be believed, being Kiot; (_c_) That Chrêtien, who wrote before Wolfram, drew from a source anterior to Wolfram, which source was also used by Kiot.

For reasons already stated we may dismiss (_a_) without further argument, and accept Wolfram's statement as to the existence of a French poem other than Chrêtien's; but the question as to the relationship existing between these two poems, whether the one was directly the source of the other (as Wolfram seems to have supposed), or whether both represent a common source, requires to be carefully examined.

The principal difference between the _Parzival_ and the _Conte del Graal_ is in the Introduction, which is missing entirely in Chrêtien, whose account of Perceval's father and of his death is at variance with all the other versions, and has been supplemented by a later Introduction, more in harmony with what seems to have been accepted as the original form of the story, _i.e._ with the fact of the death of the hero's father _before_ his birth, and the flight of the _widowed_ mother into the woods. Now, it is of course quite possible, it is even highly probable, that Chrêtien, had he known a version of the story such as Wolfram gives, would have rejected it on account of its connection with the House of Anjou, but we cannot base any argument on the absence of this introduction, since Chrêtien left his poem unfinished at a point before the close connection between the first two books and the ending of the story becomes apparent in Wolfram. Had Chrêtien lived to complete his work we should have then been in a better position to judge whether he knew Kiot's poem and deliberately set it on one side, or whether he was following another version.

Closely as the two poems agree, it is noticeable that, in more than one instance, Chrêtien's version of an incident is more in harmony with the story as told in other members of the Grail cycle than is Wolfram's; _e.g._ Parzival's visit to the court of King Arthur, and Gawain's adventure in the Château Merveil, both of which have been fully treated in the Notes. It is curious also that in the three versions of the story most closely agreeing, the _Conte del Graal_, _Parzival_, and _Peredur_, we find the bleeding lance and the sword in each, while for the 'Grail' talisman we have variously, an enigmatic object of gold set with precious stones, a stone, and a bleeding head on a dish; this variation seems to point to the conclusion that the lance and sword, and not the 'Grail,' were the original features of the story; and accordingly we find in Chrêtien that it is the lance, and not the Grail, which Gawain goes to seek; and the lance is also treated at greater length than is the Grail.

If Wolfram and Chrêtien were drawing from the same source it seems strange that it is in the work of that one of the two who avowedly places a high value on adherence to the traditional form of the story that we miss just these archaic features.

Again, Wolfram and Chrêtien differ very decidedly in their presentment of the Grail knights and their organisation; if so striking and effective a feature existed in a source common to both, it is difficult to understand why Chrêtien omitted it; he could have had no such grudge against the Order of Templars as he would reasonably have against the House of Anjou, and it is equally difficult to believe that if it was _not_ in the source, Wolfram departed from his avowed principle of fidelity so far as to introduce it.

We also find the same ideas introduced in a different context; thus, when Perceval leaves his mother to go out into the world, among her counsels the French poet includes, '_Preudom ne forconselle nie celui ki tient sa compagnie_'; in Wolfram we have no such phrase, but when Parzival arrives at Gurnemanz's Castle we find him saying, '_Mîn muoter saget al wâr, Alt mannes rede stêt niht se vâr_,' which in the Parzival she did _not_ say. It is evident that in the two versions counsel and application have become separated, and in this case again it seems more probable that the counsel would originally have been given without the application, as by Chrêtien, than _vice versa_ as by Wolfram. On the other hand, Mr. Nutt points out in his _Studies_ that Perceval's recognition of the knights as _angels_ is quite at variance with his mother's representation of armed men as _devils_, whereas in the _Parzival_ the whole episode is clear and consistent. Here the French poet has evidently dropped out something, and there are other instances, such as the names of Gurnemanz's sons, in which the German poem seems to have followed an older tradition.

But on the whole, a careful comparison of the two poems seems to show that Wolfram's version is further removed from the original form of the story than is Chrêtien's, and that therefore the probability is that the common basis of the two poems was a work known to the two _French_ poets.

In support of this theory it may be noted as a curious fact that while _Chrêtien_ avowedly bases his poem on a book given to him by the Count of Flanders, _Wolfram's_ poem really contains more references to Flanders than Chrêtien's does. Thus we have several allusions to Lambekein, Duke of Brabant; Brandelidelein of Punturtois figures prominently both in the second and in the later books, and his city 'Der Wazzervesten stat von Punt' (_punt_=_pont_=bridge) is suspiciously like Bruges; to say nothing of the connection of the Lohengrin story with Brabant and Antwerp. It has been pointed out already by critics that Gerbert, one of Chrêtien's continuators, has the same connection of the Grail winner with the knight of the swan, which seems to indicate that the stories were not first connected by the _German_ poet (Gerbert also connects with the Swan Knight with the Deliverer of the Holy Sepulchre, an Oriental and Crusading feature quite in harmony with what has been suggested with regard to Wolfram's French source).

On the whole, the evidence seems to point to the conclusion that the source of Kiot's poem was identical with the book delivered to Chrêtien by the Count of Flanders; and the connection between Wolfram and Chrêtien is that of a source from which Chrêtien drew at first, Wolfram at second hand, Wolfram's medium having treated the legend with far more freedom and boldness than was common at that date.

EXCURSUS C

THE INTERPRETATION AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF THE POEM

The question of the interpretation to be placed upon the _Parzival_ is one of the most important parts of the problem under discussion. As a rule it has been treated apart from the question of the _source_, for critics have been pretty generally unanimous in declaring that whatever the authority followed as to the story, its employment as a medium of ethical edification was due to Wolfram and to Wolfram alone. But a careful examination of the poem seems to indicate that not only were the first germs of a spiritual interpretation due to another and older writer, but also that a very close and important connection exists between the interpretation and the source, as alleged by Wolfram himself.

Now, whether we are treating of the source or of the inner signification of the poem, one of the most important elements in the question is the character of Feirefis. That this curious personality is as closely connected with the inner, as with the outer, development of the story many critics have readily admitted, and therefore the question of the _origin_ of the character becomes one of no little importance. If we can prove that Feirefis is beyond doubt the invention of Wolfram, then we have a strong argument for believing that the ethical teaching is also entirely Wolfram's; but if the evidence points the other way, and is in favour of the theory that Feirefis is an integral part of the original French source, then there is strong ground for believing that the semi-allegorical treatment of the subject was also part of Kiot's scheme. Simrock feels this so strongly that he advances the close connection of Feirefis alike with the _grund-idee_ of the poem and the first two books to prove that Wolfram _must_ have written those books, since to him alone the moral teaching can be due.

But is the evidence in favour of the German authorship of these books? Is it not, as we have shown in the discussion of the Angevin allusions, distinctly _against_ such a conclusion? And here we must not overlook the fact that the _Angevin_ parentage is insisted on far more strongly in the case of Feirefis than in that of his brother; it seems indeed as if the elder brother were regarded specially as the son of his father, from first to last he is 'Feirefis Angevin,' whereas Parzival is regarded more as the son of the mother through whom he is connected with the mystic race of the Grail-kings, and bears throughout the title of 'Waleis,' his mother's, not his father's, land.

A close study of the poem seems to show that it came into Wolfram's hands an organic whole; in spite of the strong individuality of the German poet which has stamped itself on every page, in spite of the constant personal allusions, of the characteristic form into which he has remoulded the story, we feel that he has never lost sight of the original conception, but, even while working out his own interpretation, has allowed the thread of his source to run unbroken, if not untangled, to the end. And with that thread Feirefis is closely inwoven; it is at the critical moment of Parzival's life, when the conventional faith in God as the All-wise Ruler of the world, which has been sufficient for his boyhood, fails him, that the hero first learns the existence of his unknown brother, Feirefis Angevin; from that point onward, whenever the story will admit of an allusion to Feirefis, either directly, or indirectly through his love Sekundillé, that allusion is introduced, so that as we draw towards the end of the poem the mind is not unprepared for the appearance of Feirefis himself, and the combat which is the last, as it is the most desperate, of Parzival's trials. The breaking of the sword of Ither of Gaheviess, as well as the exceptional nature of the conflict itself, is a distinct indication of a special significance attached to the incident, and one is not surprised to find that the conclusion of Parzival's probation and his election to the Grail kingdom follow closely upon it. It is impossible to believe that a personality so strange as that of Feirefis, so closely connected with the hero of the poem, and brought into special prominence at the turning-points of his career, means nothing at all; and this when we have the contrast between Doubt and Steadfastness, Darkness and Light, Black and White directly insisted upon.

The original ethical idea seems to have been simple enough; the sin of lack of faith in God, which mars an otherwise steadfast character. Feirefis shows, in a concrete form, the contrast sketched in the opening lines of Book I., and Parzival's final conflict with his parti-coloured brother signified the final victory over Doubt which rendered him worthy to win the Grail. The idea of working some such _motif_ into the story may very likely have arisen from a wish to supply a better and more adequate reason for Parzival's interview with the Hermit, an episode which, as the _Parzival_ shows, is capable of far finer treatment than it has received in any other version. (It must not be forgotten that Parzival's passionate outbreak and defiance of God is found nowhere else, and that the duty of trust in God and reliance upon Him in the hour of trouble has been distinctly part of his early teaching, and that there too the 'black and white' contrast has been insisted upon.) The idea thus first suggested, the circumstances of a residence in the East, where such a conflict between light and darkness was actually being carried on, determined the form into which it should be cast. It is extremely difficult to understand how _Wolfram_, if he only possessed the Perceval legend in an incomplete form, conceived the idea of supplementing it in this special manner; but if _Kiot_ be responsible for the first introduction of the religious idea, as he was of the Angevin, the problem becomes perfectly easy, his conception of the struggle in the soul of man was simply a reflection of the struggle as he saw it in the world.

(It cannot be too strongly insisted upon, that no princes of the day were more strongly affected by the Crusading spirit, or more closely connected with the East than the Angevin princes; and that to assume on the part of one of their followers the familiarity with Crusading ideas which is here ascribed to 'Kiot' is to do little more than state a commonplace fact of history.)

But that the idea of the poem has, in a measure, undergone a change, and that the _Parzival_ in its present shape owes much to the genius of the man who, probably attracted by the ethical turn Kiot had given to the story, took it into his own hands, and, remodelling it, sent it forth to the world a heritage for all generations, may readily be granted. No careful reader of the poem can fail to feel that the interpretation is a double one; that if there are passages which seem to treat of Faith and Doubt only as they affect the position of the soul towards God, there are others which as clearly treat of the same questions as affecting man's relation to his fellow-men; in which faith is interpreted in its widest sense as a loyal fulfilment of _all_ obligations, social as well as religious; and that all this is summed up and expressed in the inculcation of loyalty to the dictates of the knightly order in their highest form.

Occasionally these two ideas obviously clash, as when in Book IX. Trevrezent tells Parzival that the Grail cannot be won by human effort, and asks, 'Wilt thou force thy God with thine anger?' and in Book XVI. practically takes back his words and admits that this is what Parzival _has_ done. The true solution of the puzzle seems to be neither in interpreting the poem exclusively as an allegory of the struggle in the soul of man, nor exclusively as a confession of faith in the knightly order as a means of salvation, but rather in admitting that the poem sets forth _both_ these views, and that the lines of thought cross and recross and overlie one another according as Wolfram reproduced the ideas of the older poet, or overlaid them with his own.

And if we will believe in the real personality of 'Kiot,' we may find that the religious teaching of the poem gains a new significance; deeply religious it undoubtedly is, full of a profound trust in God, a deep conviction of the individual relationship existing between the soul and its Maker, and a simple acceptance of the elementary doctrines of Christianity, the Trinity, the Incarnation, and Its extension through the initial Sacrament of Baptism; but with all this there is a complete absence of ecclesiasticism, and a lack of features familiar to us in other works of the day.

It is very curious that, constantly as Baptism is insisted upon as essential to salvation, the equal necessity for the Second Great Sacrament of the Faith is passed over. It is perfectly true that Wolfram's knights attend Mass, and that Mass is apparently celebrated with regularity, but here their obligation seems to end; never once do we hear of one of his knights communicating, even Gamuret, when dying, though he receives absolution, does not receive the viaticum (the account of Vivians' death in _Willehalm_ seems to show that elsewhere Wolfram, in common with other writers of the day, _did_ acknowledge this necessity). Again, though Parzival comes to the Hermit's cell on Good Friday, and spends fourteen days in his company, confessing and receiving absolution, we have no mention of the Easter Communion in the German poem, though we have in the French. In Book X. the wounded knight, whom Gawain succours, asks to be helped to a _spital_ that his wounds may be attended to; in Chrêtien's version he expresses his fear of dying unabsolved and uncommunicated, and would seek a Hermit who lives near at hand for that purpose. And this difference between the two versions meets us at every turn; _Chrêtien_ abounds in allusions to the hours of prayer; if he wishes to indicate the time when any special event happens he mentions that it is just after Prime, or between Tierce and Noon; Perceval says that if he finds his mother he will make her a veiled nun, and the mother's counsels in the French poem are emphatic on the subject of Perceval's religious duties, which Wolfram wholly omits; Chrêtien's characters constantly invoke the saints, which Wolfram's knights never do; when Parzival is in imminent danger of death it is to his wife, and not to a patron saint, that he looks for aid. Wolfram is always a religious poet, but, if we compare his other important poem the _Willehalm_ with the _Parzival_, we cannot help feeling that the former is decidedly more in harmony with the thought of his day, and less curiously '_modern_' in tone than the latter. It is difficult to resist the conviction that some of the special peculiarities of the _Parzival_ are due to Wolfram's source quite as much as to Wolfram himself.

It is a commonplace of history that one effect of the contact between heathen and Christian races brought about by the Crusades was the awakening of a spirit of tolerance between the brave men on either side. In a day when manly strength and courage were accounted of such value it was impossible that the existence of such qualities on the side of the heathen should not, in the opinion of many, go far to counterbalance their lack of Christianity; and it is certain that among those long resident in the East such tolerance eventually led to laxity in matters both of faith and practice. It was such laxity that was the ostensible reason for the fall of the Knights Templars. In the case of a poem, which otherwise gives indication of familiarity with Oriental custom and tradition, is it unreasonable to suggest that its peculiarities of religious treatment, its freedom from petty ecclesiastical details, the breadth and tolerance of its views, and the far more human ideal of virtue which it presents, may, at least in part, be due to the influence of the Crusading spirit which we know did, on the whole, make in these directions?

To sum up the entire question, the drift of the internal evidence of the _Parzival_ seems to indicate that the author of Wolfram's source was a warm partisan of the House of Anjou, sometime resident in the East, familiar with the History of the House whose fortunes he followed, and with much curious Oriental legend, and thoroughly imbued with the broader views of life and religion inspired by the Crusades. That he wrote his poem _after_ 1172 seems most likely from the connection between England, Anjou, and Ireland noted in Book IX.; on the other hand, the parallel existing between the early history of Henry Fitz-Empress and that of the hero of the _Parzival_ seems to show that he intended a compliment to that prince, which would fix the year of Henry's death, 1189, as the _terminus ad quem_. The probabilities are that it would be written earlier, before the troubles of Henry's later years. What we know of the extent of the Angevin rule and influence at that date renders it quite possible for us to believe that the writer was by birth a Provençal. That the source of the poem bore a strong affinity to the source of Chrêtien's _Conte del Graal_ is certain, and the many Flemish allusions give colour to the supposition that it may have been identical with that source.

If we grant the correctness of the Angevin allusions to be found in the earlier parts of the poem, we must logically grant that these two first Books, and as a consequence the latter part of the poem which agrees with them, are due to the French source rather than the German redaction; that it was Kiot who introduced the characters of Gamuret, Belakané, Feirefis, and Lähelein; and that to Kiot is due the first germ of the ethical interpretation amplified by Wolfram. It was probably in a great measure owing to the unecclesiastical nature of Kiot's teaching, and the freedom with which he handled the Grail myth, that his work failed to attain the popularity of Chrêtien's. When the Grail legend was once definitely stamped with the traditional-Christian character which it finally assumed and retained, the semi-pagan character of Kiot's treatment would cause his version to be regarded with disfavour by the monkish compilers of his day. It is probably owing to the accident of Maude's first husband having been Emperor of Germany that this particular presentment of the story found its way into that country; it may well be that it is, indirectly, to that very Angevin element that has for so long perplexed critics that we owe its preservation! As regards the Grail problem itself, it therefore seems most probable that in Wolfram's _Parzival_ we have no really independent version of the Grail myth, such as may be taken into consideration by scholars when constructing a scientific theory of its development; but simply an interesting specimen of one form which, in the period of its translation from a pagan to a Christian symbol, it temporarily assumed, that form being entirely coloured and determined by the personality of the writer.

EXCURSUS D

THE WORKS OF WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH

Besides the _Parzival_, Wolfram's longest and, from every point of view, most important work, we possess seven songs belonging to the class known as Tage-or Wächter-Lieder; thus called because the secret lovers, who have indulged their passion during the hours of night, are warned by the call of the watchman from the ramparts of the approach of day and of the hour of parting. Though Wolfram made in these songs a concession to the lax morality of his day, the concluding lines of one of them clearly show how far superior to such unlawful passion he held the love of wedded wife and husband, such love as he has immortalised in Kondwiramur and Parzival. Beside these songs, we have the poems dealing with the loves of Siguné and Schionatulander, and classed together under the name of _Titurel_. Whether these are complete in themselves, and intended to serve as an explanatory addition to the _Parzival_, or whether they are fragments of an unfinished poem, does not very clearly appear; in any case they indicate a source identical with that of the _Parzival_.

_Willehalm_, Wolfram's other great epic poem, in nine books, deals with the history of William of Orange, a contemporary of Charlemagne, whose story belongs to this cycle of French Romance. The poem is clearly derived from the old French _Chanson de Geste, Aliscans_, and is originally founded on the prolonged struggle between the Saracen and Christian power in the South of France, a struggle which for poetical purposes has been condensed into two battles of Aliscans, or Alischanz, in the first of which the Christians are defeated, while in the second they are victorious. Whether this poem, too, is or is not unfinished, is a matter of debate among critics; judging from Wolfram's method in the _Parzival_, the fact that he leaves the fate of his hero 'Rennewart' in uncertainty, and does not even reveal the secret of his parentage and close connection with William's wife, seems to indicate that he did not finish the poem. _Willehalm_ abounds in references to the _Parzival_, and in similar turns of thought and expression, and has some passages of great beauty. The _Titurel_ is also written in a more elaborate metre than the other poems, and some doubt has been expressed as to which of these two represents Wolfram's latest work. The style of both is more finished than that of the _Parzival_, but they are both inferior alike in depth of thought and human interest to this, the greatest work of Germany's greatest mediæval poet.

NOTES

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