  ARGUMENTBook XVI. tells of the sorrow of Anfortas and his knights; how he prayed them to kill him, and how he would fain have withheld his eyes from the light of the Grail; of the coming of Parzival and Feirefis, and of the healing of Anfortas. How Parzival set forth to meet his wife on the shores of PlimizÖl; and how Trevrezent confessed to having spoken falsely in order to withhold him from the Quest. Of the joyful meeting of Parzival and Kondwiramur; and how Kardeiss was proclaimed king of Brobarz, Waleis, Norgals, and Anjou; and how Parzival with Kondwiramur and Lohengrin rode to MonsalvÄsch. How on their way they found SigunÉ dead, and buried her by her lover. Of the great feast at MonsalvÄsch; and how Feirefis failed to behold the Grail, and of his love for RÉpanse de Schoie. How Feirefis was baptized, and wedded RÉpanse de Schoie; how the twain set forth for Feirefis' kingdom, and of their son, Prester John. Of Lohengrin and the Duchess of Brabant; how he was sent to her aid from MonsalvÄsch, and dwelt with her in peace till she asked the question which drove him forth. The poet blames ChrÊtien de Troyes for having done the tale a wrong; it was Kiot who taught the song aright, to its very end. He, Wolfram of Eschenbach, will speak no more of it, but he prays that all good and gracious women will praise him for his song, since he sang it to pleasure a woman. 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, 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— 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, 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 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, 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. 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 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, 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 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,< br/> 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,) 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, 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 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, 'Naug onoured 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. 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. 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!
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