  ARGUMENTIn the Introduction the poet speaks of the honour in which he holds all true women, though he be wroth with one who has wronged him. Yet, though women shall count him their friend, he would fain that they should honour him for his knightly deeds, rather than for this his song. In Book III. he tells of the sorrow and the faith of Queen Herzeleide; of Parzival's childhood; of his meeting with the knights; of his faring forth to seek knighthood from King Arthur; and of the death of Herzeleide. How Parzival met with JeschutÉ, and robbed her of her token, and of the wrath of her husband Orilus. Of the sorrow of SigunÉ, and how Parzival learnt his name and his lineage. How Parzival met with the Red Knight and bare his challenge to the court of King Arthur, and how he craved a boon of the king. Of the shaming of KunnewaarÉ; and of the death of the Red Knight. How Parzival came to Gurnemanz of Graharz and was cured by him of his folly and taught all knightly wisdom, and how he rode forth from the land of Graharz. BOOK III GURNEMANZ On the further side was a meadow, and a tent decked the grass so green, And tall was the tent wide-spreading, and riches thereon were seen; 'Twas of samite of threefold colours, on the seams lay fair ribbons wide,295 And a leathern covering hung there, 'gainst the rain-cloud to guard its pride. ('Twas Duke Orilus of Lalande, whose wife he beneath it found— She lay there in peaceful slumber with riches happed fair around, A Duchess she was, well worthy the love of a gallant knight, And the venture it tells that JeschutÉ was the name of that lady bright)300 Softly the princess slumbered,—yet weapons of love she bore; A mouth so red and glowing, that a knight's heart had wounded sore, And e'en as she slept they parted asunder, her lips so bright, That the fire of love had kindled, (fit venture for gallant knight) And even as ivory snow-white, and little, and close the row 305 Of the teeth that gleamed white betwixt them—methinks that a man were slow To use himself to such kisses from a mouth that all men might praise— I wot that so fair a guerdon but seldom hath crowned my days! A covering of richest sable over foot and knee was thrown, (For the heat she aside hath cast it, whom her lord had thus left alone)310 And her form it was fairly fashioned, and wrought by a skilful hand, And long was her arm and rounded: on her snow-white hand a ring Gleamed golden, and when he saw it the lad to her side did spring; For had not his mother told him such jewels were the guerdon fair 315 That a knight well might crave? and he thought him he fain would such token bear! Then the lady awoke in terror as his clasp on her white arm fell, And gazed in startled wonder and wrath as beseemed her well; 'Who is it, who thus would shame me? Nay, sir, thou art all too free! Go, choose thee some fairer maiden, my favours are not for thee!' 320 In vain might she weep and bewail her; he asked not her yea, or nay, But took from her lips unwilling the kiss she would fain gainsay; And the ring of gold from her finger with ungentle hand he'ld take, And the clasp that her shift had fastened from the garment he roughly brake: In vain were her tears and struggles, she was but a woman still, 325 And his strength was to hers as an army, perforce must she do his will. Then the lad spake aloud, he hungered, from his hand was the lady free, And she quoth, 'Of a truth 'twere better thou shouldst not make meal of me! If thou wert but a little wiser thou wouldst choose thee some other meat, There stand bread and wine, and two game-birds, of them mayst thou freely eat,330 Methinks when my maiden brought them, 'twas scarcely of thee she thought!' Then he asked not where sat the hostess, but he ate e'en as hunger taught, And he drank his fill; and the lady she deemed all too long his stay, For she thought him bereft of his senses, and she wished he were well away, And for fear and shame the sweat-drops stood thickly upon her brow—335 And she spake, 'Thou my ring shalt give me, and the clasp thou didst take but now, And get thee away, if he cometh, my husband, then shalt thou bear The weight of his wrath, and I think me thou wouldst then wish thyself elsewhere!' Quoth the noble youth, 'What care I how fierce thy lord's wrath may be? If my presence doth shame thine honour, then from hence will I swiftly flee.'340 And he stepped to the bedside boldly, and kissed her as there she lay, And he spake a word of parting as he vaulted upon his steed, 'God have thee in His safe keeping, so my mother she gave me rede.' Then the lad he was glad of his booty, and thus did he ride a while—345 Methinks there was little lacking that from hence he had gone a mile, Ere he came of whom I would tell you: on the dew he the tracks might see Of one who had sought his lady—The tent-ropes displaced should be Where the lad thro' the grass had ridden; then the gallant Duke and proud Found his lady within in sorrow, and Orilus spake aloud, 350 'Alas! for the service done thee—for smitten and put to shame Is the crown of my knightly honour, since another thy love can claim!' Then little, alas! might it profit that with streaming eyes she swore No lover had she save her husband,—he would hearken her tale no more. Then she spake in her fear and anguish, 'Twas a fool, he who came to me,355 And yet tho' a fool, of all men I wot he may fairest be! My ring and my clasp gold-gleaming, he took them against my will!' 'Nay, I doubt not so well he pleased thee, thou didst grant him more favours still,' 'Now, God forbid! for his fool's garb and his javelin were e'en too near, It shameth us both, my husband, such words from thy lips to hear! 360 Are queens wont to love thus lowly, that thou speakest such words of me? Thou wrongest our royal breeding, when thou deemest such things may be!' Then the Duke spake, 'This shame, O lady! alone hast thou won from me, Thou dost call thyself Queen no longer; tho' thy title shall Duchess be Little good hath that bargain brought me—So bold shall my manhood be,365 That thy brother, King Lac's son Erec, for that cause beareth hate to thee: He is wise, and right well he knoweth that my fame so high shall stand That nothing shall stain mine honour, save at Prurein when his right hand In knightly joust once felled me, but that have I paid right well, In a joust at Karnant I smote him, and behind his steed he fell, 370 And his pledge did he yield unto me,—thro' his shield I thy token bare, I thought not, my wife JeschutÉ, with another thy love to share!' 'Thou mayst also well assure thee that the son of King Gandein, < ggings the hosen of shining mail, Nor the spurs with red gold in-wroughten should unto the harness fail, And of silk and gold the laces, nor leather might there be found. Ere he gave unto him the corslet he bound him with greaves around, And tho' o'er-long Parzival deemed it yet the time was swiftly sped,750 Ere in knightly armour shining he clad him from foot to head. Then the lad would have ta'en his quiver, but Iwanet he spake out free, Then he girt the sharp sword around him, and he showed how to draw the blade, And he bade him ne'er fly in battle, nor in conflict to be dismayed.755 Then nearer he led unto him the charger the dead knight rode, And 'twas tall and strong, yet the saddle the youth with one spring bestrode, He recked not the weight of his armour, and of stirrups had little need— E'en to-day do men speak of his swiftness, and the fame of his mighty deeds. Nor o'er-much did Iwanet think it to teach him with fitting skill 760 To hold his shield and to guard him, while he wrought to his foeman ill; And a spear in his hand he gave him—But Parzival turned aside, 'Nay, nay, what good may that do me?' 'If a joust one with thee would ride Thou shalt on thy foeman break it, perchance drive it thro' his shield, If thou doest that oft, 'fore the maidens will they praise thee for well-fought field.'765 And this hath the venture told me,—Not in Maestricht, or e'en Cologne Might a painter so fair a picture as this lad and his steed have shown. Then straightway he spake to Iwanet, 'My friend and companion dear, The boon that I asked have I won me, of that art thou witness here. My service bear thou to the city, to Arthur the noble king, 770 And mourn unto him my shaming—This cup thou again shalt bring, And tell him a knight hath wronged me, since he smote that maiden fair Who looked, and who laughed upon me, and grief for her grief I bear. Nor hath it but lightly touched me, it hath pierced to my inmost heart This maid's woe all undeservÈd—Now do thou in her shame have part 775 Thro' the friendship that thou hast shown me! God keep thee in peace alway, And watch o'er us twain, for I think me no longer I here may stay!' And Ither the prince of Gaheviess on the plain had he lifeless left, E'en in death was he fair to look on who was thus of fair life bereft. If in joust by a spear-thrust pierced he thro' knighthood his death must gain780 Who had mourned for the grief and the marvel? By a javelin he here was slain. Then Iwanet he strewed above him a covering of blossoms bright, And that lad so true and faithful, he pierced with the crimson blade A bough of wood, and in this wise a cross o'er the dead man made. 785 Then he gat him again to the city, and the heavy tidings told; And from many a trembling woman, and from many a hero bold Rose the wail of love and of sorrow; and the dead would they fetch in state, And the Host they bare before her, as the queen passed the city gate. Then o'er Cumberland's prince and hero, who by Parzival's hand was slain,790 Queen Guinevere spake in sorrow while her tear-drops they flowed amain, 'Alas! alas! for broken in twain is King Arthur's might, For he whom the good Round Table accounted its bravest knight Here slain before Nantes he lieth! His heritage did he claim Where men gave him death for his guerdon—For naught marred his knightly fame;795 Here long hath he dwelt among us in such wise that never an ear The tale of a deed unknightly, or wrong he had done, might hear. He held him afar from falsehood, to guile was he aye a foe; The lock and the seal of knighthood all too soon must we bury low. His heart wise in courteous wisdom, and steadfast as seal and sign,800 Taught him ever the fairest counsel that a man's heart might aye divine, Whereby with true love and courage a man woman's love may woo And show manhood's truth—Fruit-bearing it seedeth itself anew The plant of all woman's sorrow! From thy wounds grief shall ever grow— So red was thy hair that the blossoms that bloom here thy corse below805 Scarce redder may be with thy life-blood—All laughter hast thou forbid To fair women, and joy and gladness by thy death are for ever hid.' Thus Ither, beloved of all men, as a king in the grave was laid,— With his life must he pay for his armour who taught sighing to many a maid, Since Parzival in his folly for the harness his death had sought, 810 Hereafter, when he won wisdom, he scarcely such deed had wrought! NOW this might ye mark in the charger, great labour it held as naught, Were it hot, were it cold, no journey the sweat on its coat had brought; It sped over stone or tree-trunk, and scarce was there need to draw The girth by one hole the tighter if the knight for two days it bore.815 So fully armed, in his folly yet further he rode that day 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 |
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