Now perchance it were well I should tell ye, how, as this his folk did pray,From Karidöl and his kingdom, King Arthur had ridden away.And now the venture telleth, on his own and on stranger groundFor eight days long had they ridden, nor yet had the Red Knight found.For in truth 'twas for him they were seeking, to honour his hand were fain,5From sorrow had he released them, who had erst Prince Ither slain;And Klamidé the king, and Kingron, in a welcome hour had sentTo the court of the Breton Monarch: for on this was King Arthur bent,He would make him one of his circle, a knight of the Table Round,No labour too great he counted, so the hero at last he found!10Thus o'er mountain and vale they sought him—All who knightly shield might bear,King Arthur now called around him, and in this wise he bade them swear:What deeds so e'er of knighthood they should see, by this their oath,They should on no conflict venture, but faithful still keep their troth,As they sware unto him, their monarch, and fight but as he thereto15Should give them leave—He spake thus, 'Now, 'tis well! Since we needs must goThro' many a stranger country, where many a stranger spear,And many a gallant hero are waiting us, I fear,If ye, like hounds untrainèd whose leash shall have slipped the handOf him who was late their master, shall roam free o'er all the land,20Much evil might there befall ye, and such chance should but please me ill,And by this your oath, I think me, such rashness I best may still.Be ye sure and need ariseth, your king ne'er will say you Nay,Till then, as I here command ye, ride peaceful upon your way.'Now the oath, ye shall well have heard it—Now hear ye how Parzival,25The Waleis, rode near unto them: thro' the night did the snow-flakes fall,Light they fell, yet lay thickly on him, yet if well I the tale may know,And the singer aright hath sung it, it was never the time of snow;For whate'er men have sung or spoken of King Arthur, at Whitsuntide,Or when May-blossoms deck the meadow, these marvels did aye betide.30For sweetly the springtide bloometh, and many a garb, I ween,Shall it bear this song of my singing, tho' snow-clad it now be seen.The falconers from Karidöl, as the shadows of evening fell,Rode, hawking, by Plimizöl's waters, when an evil chance befell,For the best of their hawks flew from them, nor stooped to the lure again,35But all night in the dusky shadows of the woodland it did remain.With Parzival it sheltered; to the twain was the woodland wayA road unknown, sharp the frost stung, in the far east uprose the day,And, lo! all around the hero, the snow-flakes lay thick and white:Thro' the forest paths untrodden, in ever waxing light,40Rode our hero by hedge or thicket, by rock and by fallen tree,Till clear grew the shadowy woodland, and its depths he well might see,And a mighty tree of the forest had fallen where he would ride,(The falcon yet followed after) 'mid its clustering boughs he spiedA flock of wild-geese from the Northland, their hissing he first had heard,45Swift swooped the falcon upon them and struck to the earth a bird:And scarce might it fly the clutches of its foe, and fresh shelter take'Neath the shade of the fallen branches; in its flight from the wounds there brakeThree blood-drops, all glowing crimson, and fell on the spotless snow,As Parzival's eyes beheld them, swift sorrow his heart must know!50Now hear ye his love so loyal—As he looked on these blood-drops bright,That stained with a stain of crimson the snow-flakes that lay so white,He thought, 'Say what hand hath painted these colours that here I see?Kondwiramur, I think well, these tints sure shall liken thee!And white snow and blood-drops crimson, do ever thy likeness share,55For this favour I praise God's working, and the world he hath wrought so fair!For in this wise I read the vision,—in this snow that so spotless lies,'Gainst the blood-drops, that ruddy-gleaming, glow crimson beneath mine eyes,I find ever thy face so gracious, my lady, Kondwiramur,Red as blood-drops and white as the snowdrift, it rejoiceth me evermore!'60Then her sweet face arose before him, in that night she first sought his side,When on each cheek a tear-drop glistened, and a third to her chin did glide.And so true was his love and steadfast, little recked he of aught around,But wrapped round in love and longing, saw naught but the blood-stained ground.Frau Minne with force constrained him, as here on his wife he thought,65And by magic of colours mystic, a spell on his senses wrought.So held he him still, as sleeping—Would ye know who found him there?The squire of fair Kunnewaaré would forth unto Lalande fare,And as on his way he journeyed, by the woodland green he sawA helmet all battle-dinted, and a shield which yet traces bore70Of many a bitter conflict that was foughten for lady fair;And a knight there abode in armour, and his lance he aloft did bearAs one who here patient waited the joust that he fain would ride.The squire swiftly turned his bridle and back to the camp he hied.Yet in sooth had he seen the stranger, and his lady's champion known,75He had ne'er been so swift to decry him, nor had wished he were overthrown,Nor e'en as he were an outlaw, set the heroes upon his track:The squire he of queen unfaithful, small wonder he knighthood lacked!And in this wise he called upon them, 'Fie! Fie! on ye, coward knights!Hold ye not Gawain for a marvel? Have ye not in a hundred fights80Won honour and fame as heroes, who fight for a hero king?Know now that ye stand dishonoured, and broken your goodly ring!'Ah! then there arose a clamour, and none but was fain to knowOf the deed of knightly prowess, that should shame their honour so.When they heard how but one knight dared them, that but one knight a foe did wait,85Then sorely they mourned the promise that they sware to their king of late.Then Knight Segramor sprang swiftly from amid the angry throng,He ran, for in sooth he walked not, and ever his heart did longTo be in the midst of conflict, where conflict might chance to be,An they failèd with cords to bind him, in the thick of the fight was he!90And nowhere the Rhine's swift waters may flow so strong and wide,Tho' the stream should run swift between them, an men fought on the further side,He stayed not to test the waters, if the current be hot or cold,But straightway the stream he breasted, as fitted a swimmer bold!Swift-foot to the tent of the monarch, the eager youth he sped,95For the day was but yet in its dawning, and the king he lay yet abed.Then straight thro' the lists he hied him, and he gat him thro' the door,And the covering all of sable, with hasty hand he toreFrom the twain who lay warm beneath it, and slumbered a slumber deep,Yet his haste moved them but to laughter, tho' he waked them from out their sleep!100And loudly he cried on his cousin—'Queen, Lady, Guinevere,Since the world knoweth well our kinship, thou must do me this service here,Speak thou for me to thine husband, and pray thou of him this grace,Since a knightly venture nears us, my lotfirstthe foe to face!'Yet Arthur spake, 'Now bethink thee of the oath thou didst swear to me,105In all things my will to follow, nor rashly to venture thee;For if thou a joust now ridest, hereafter shall many a knightCrave leave at mine hand to ride forth, and seek for fame in fight,And 'twere ill thus our force to weaken, for know thou that near at hand,Anfortas of Monsalväsch with a mighty host doth stand.110This wood of his he guardeth, and since we but little knowWhere he and his force shall hold them, such chance well might work us woe!'Yet Guinevere wrought so wisely Segramor was well-nigh fainTo die of joy, from King Arthur, his lady this grace did gain.And on fame and honour only was the gallant youth intent,115Nor for gold had he sold the venture on which his heart was bent.Now the hero young and beardless, well armed his steed bestrode,And over the fresh young greensward his charger at full speed rode;And the bushes were bent beneath him, and the golden bells rang clearOn trapping alike and armour; and I deem well an need were here120To seek for the magic pheasant mid thicket and thorny brake,He who fain this knight had followed, the bells for his guide might take!Thus rashly rode the hero, to him whom Frau Minne's spellFast fettered in magic fetters, and no blow at the first there fell,For the peace by his word was broken—There held fast by threefold might,125And the power of red blood-drops threefold stood ever the stranger knight.(Yea, well I myself have known this, how Frau Minne with power may hold,And holding, the senses scatter, and with passion of grief untoldShall fill the heart to o'erflowing—'Twas a woman who wrought this ill,And vanquished, she doth condemn me, and refuseth me comfort still.130Thus draweth she guilt upon her, for the sin shall be hers, I ween,And afar must I fly from the presence, that of old time my joy hath been.)Thus Segramor quoth unto him, 'Now it seemeth but ill to meThat thus near our army lieth, and our presence rejoiceth thee!And thou holdest his fame too lightly, whom with pride we may hail our king,135And 'tis meet thou for this do penance,—or the death-chime for me shall ring!Thus armed, all too near thou ridest; yet first would I courteous prayThat thou yield thee at this my bidding, or my wrong will I here repay,And my blow shall be swift, and thy falling shall scatter these snow-flakes white!And I call on thee here to yield thee, ere I put thee to shame, Sir Knight!'140Yet Parzival still kept silence—for Frau Minne, so fair and young,In a sorer conflict held him—Then his steed Segramor swungAside, as for jousting ready, round wheeled him the war-horse goodOn whose back the gallant hero yet sate in mystic mood,And ever he gazed on the blood-drops; as his charger turned him round145Awhile from his eyes they vanished, and fame in their stead he found!For swift as the blood-drops crimson thus passed from his dazzled sight,He hearkened the voice of the foeman, and braced him anew for fight.Then as Segramor rode against him, Parzival sought afresh the spearThat he found by the woodland chapel, with blazon of colours clear;150For tough was the shaft, and he gripped it, and he held the point full low,As his foeman dashed fair against him, his shield rang with the ringing blow.Then he spurred him anew to the onslaught, and the joust he so well repaid,That the knight in his golden armour was low in the snowdrift laid!Yet still was the spear unsplintered, tho' it bare him from off his horse;155And Parzival still kept silence, and he wheeled him upon his course,And his eyes sought once more the blood-drops, and e'en as they met his sightFrau Minne with fetters bound him, and held him in cords of might,And he spake never word, nor question, but gazed ever upon the ground,And, dreaming, he lost the knowledge which he for a space had found!160But affrighted, the gallant charger had fled back into its stall,And its rider arose, little comfort might he find, though he soft might fall!Outstretched had he lain in the snowdrift, in such wise e'en as men shall goTo rest, yet but ill he sleepeth, who sleepeth on couch of snow!And such bed had sorrow brought me! for he to whom ill betides165Hath but mocking for his bedfellow, but the lucky doth God's hand guide.So near was King Arthur's army, that right well might ParzivalBe seen of all men, and the wonders, and the conflict that then befell.The victor by Love was vanquished, by Love that in days of oldDid the king of all kings the wisest, King Solomon, captive hold!170Short space, then, ere back to the army once more Knight Segramor came,An with praise or with blame they should greet him, he counted it still the same.And sharp words he flung among them, with mocking tongue and bold,Tho' vanquished, yet not dishonoured, must they ever the hero hold!And he quoth, 'Have ye never heard this, that strife bringeth loss as gain?175And never a joust, I wot me, but the victor doth one remain,While one aye shall be the vanquished: The best ship in storm may sink,And I wot that ye ne'er have heard me to speak, for I ne'er did think,An he knew of my shield the blazon, he had faced me not as a foe!Much evil, in sooth, hath he wrought me, and yet doth he wait below180All those who would ride against him, for he seemeth for conflict fain,An a knight should in joust o'erthrow him, such chance might he count for gain.'Then straightway unto King Arthur Sir Kay did the tidings bring,How his knight, Segramor, had fallen, and his victor, without their ring,A young knight, for jousting ready, yet waited with ill intent—185'Nay, I think an this stranger warrior of so many unpunished went,A burden both sore and shameful on our honour such lack would lay;Now, my king, an thou hold me worthy, do thou grant me this grace, I pray,I would ride hence to ask his meaning, who thus in the presence fairOf our Queen Guinevere and her maidens his lance-point aloft doth bear;190But if thou shouldst this boon refuse me, then know, not another hourI abide here as this thy servant; for I hold that the knightly powerAnd the fair fame of thy Round Table are stainèd if we delayTo arm ourselves 'gainst the stranger who dareth our strength to-day!Now, I prithee, give leave to fight him—For tho' blind and deaf were we,195Yet 'tis time that we should defend us'—'As thou willest, so let it be!'Then swift did the seneschal arm him, and I ween in fierce anger's fireA woodland he fain had wasted 'gainst the foe, who with strong desireAnd love was thus sorely burdened; for Frau Minne a magic spellHad wrought with the snow-flakes spotless, and the blood-drops that crimson fell.200And his knighthood he sorely shamèd, who thought here to work him harm,Since he faileth true Love to honour, who denieth of Love the charm.Frau Minne, say, why dost thou make glad the souls that mournWith bliss that too swiftly fleeting, but leaveth them more forlorn?And how canst thou, Frau Minne, true worth and knightly fame,205And manly strength and courage, thus vanquish and put to shame?For the least is to thee as the greatest, and the earth shall no hero boast,Who thinketh to scorn thine empire, but he learneth unto his costThat thou canst, an thou wilt, o'erthrow him; yea, all men thy power obey,For thy sceptre we own as mighty, and wide as the world its sway.210Yet this one thing it doth thee honour, tho' thou rulest all else but ill,Joy maketh her dwelling with thee, and for this would I praise thee still!Frau Minne, alas! of old time full false were thy ways, I ween,Nor hast thou thy dealings mended, nor to-day hast thou truer been,Thou hast many a maiden shamèd, who love forbidden sought;215Thro' thy dealings, upon the vassal, his lord hath sorrow brought;And the friend shall false and faithless to the friend of his bosom prove,And the servant betray his master; such deeds do but shame thee, Love!And I would that it were far from thee, the body to yield to lust,In such wise that the soul ashamèd is stricken with sorrow's thrust,220And that with force compelling, the young thou makest old,Though their years but few be counted, this must we for treason hold!Such speech, I ween, beseems not the man who in serving theeHath comfort found! If succour thine hand ever brought to me,I had been less slow to praise thee, but sorrow and loss alone225Hast thou counted to me as guerdon, and such glamour thine art hath thrownO'er mine eyes, that, methinks, henceforward I trust thee never more,Though small profit it brought unto thee, the bitter grief I bore!And yet too high above me art thou, that whate'er my wrong,I should e'en as a fool upbraid thee with bitter words and strong:230For thy spear too sharply pierces, and scarce may we bear the weight,Thou layest at will upon us—Methinks he who sang of late,'Neath a tree, of thy mystic dealings, and thy wondrous ways of old,Had better done had he told us how we thy grace might hold!(Heinrich of Veldeck was he, and he taught us, I ween, right well235Of the winning of Love, of its guarding, alas! he failed to tell.)For oft one thro' folly loses the prize that he late did win;Yea, to me hath such fate befallen, yet Frau Minne,thinewas the sin!Since all wisdom shall be thy portion, since against thee nor spear, nor shield,Nor charger, nor guarded fortress their vaunted power can wield,240I know not what shall withstand thee, nor on earth, nor on the sea!He who feareth to face thy conflict, say whither shall he flee?'Twas thy mystic power, Frau Minne, that dealt thus with Parzival,And reft him awhile of knowledge, and wrought with him as a fool.For fair was the queen and gracious who reigned in far Pelrapär,245And she thought on her lord and husband, and she made thee her message bear.And for this cause Kardeiss her brother, hast thou for thy payment slair,And since thou such tribute askest, 'tis well that I ne'er have ta'enFrom thine hand aught of good, since in such wise thou dost for thy debtors care—This I spake for the sake of all men—List ye now how Sir Kay did fare:250Now he rode forth in knightly armour to the strife that he sore did crave,And Gamuret's son, right willing, to his wish fulfilment gave.And wherever fair maids compelling, their voices uplift in prayer,And the grace they shall ask be granted, let them pray here for his welfare,Since it was thro' a woman's beauty, that the spell of a woman wrought255Love's magic, of senses robbed him—Then his charger to halt Kay brought;And he spake to the gallant Waleis, 'Sir Knight, since thou thus our kingHast shamed, thou shalt hear my counsel, for wisdom perchance 'twill bring;Thou shalt hang thee a hempen halter around thy neck straightway,For so may I lightly lead thee, and take thou with me thy way.260Nor think thou, thou canst escape me, but with me unto my lordShalt thou go, as befits a captive, else worse may be thy reward!'By love constrained, the Waleis nor word nor answer spoke,Kay gripped his spear-shaft tightly and he smote with a mighty strokeOn the hero's head, till the helmet rang loudly beneath his hand;265And he quoth, 'Now will I awake thee! Dost think here to take thy stand,And standing sleep unsheeted? Nay, other shalt thou fare,Low on the snow I'll lay thee! The ass that is wont to bearThe sack from the mill would rue it, did one smite him in such wise,As here I think now to smite thee, and thy sloth and thy sleep chastise!'270Frau Minne, now bethink thee, for sore this shameth thee,For an one should wrong a peasant, in this wise his speech will be,'My lord will sure repay thee!' Vengeance from thee he'ld seekMethinks, this gallant Waleis, an thou wouldst let him speak!Now let him from out thy circle, and loose him from thy ban,275This stranger guest shalt prove him, a true and valiant man!Swift rode Sir Kay unto him, and he turned his bridle round,And no more his longing glances their joy and their sorrow found,The white snow and blood-drops crimson, that mystic likeness bareTo the queen of his love and his longing, the Lady of Pelrapär;280He knew all that passed around him—His charger Sir Kay addrestTo jousting, he spurred him onward, and his spear he laid in rest.In the joust, that which Kay had aimed at he smote, for his spear did pierceThe Waleis' shield, yet swift payment was his, for in onslaught fierceThe seneschal of King Arthur fell prone on the fallen tree,285Where the geese erewhile had hid them, and hurt full sore was he,And dead lay his gallant charger—''Twixt a stone and the saddle-bow,Right arm, and left leg had he broken—so mighty his overthrowThat all that had decked his charger, girths, saddle, bells of gold,By the force of the fall were shattered, thus the stranger his payment told,290And with one blow, for twain repaid him—the one that erst for his sake,A maiden had borne and the other, which he from Kay's hand must take.Thus he who knew naught of falsehood was guided of truth to knowHer message in blood-drops threefold, on the white of the drifted snow.'Twas tear-drops, not blood, that he saw there, and well might his senses fail,295And the thoughts of his heart wax heavy, as he mused on the wondrous Grail,And sorely the semblance grieved him that spake of his wife and queen.Yet tho' o'er the twain he sorrowed, the greater woe, I ween,Was the woe that Frau Minne wrought him, for there liveth not heart so strong,But longing and love united break its power, ere the time be long.300Count we here those twain as ventures? Nay, 'twere better methinks to hold,That they were naught but pain and sorrow, that vanquished the hero bold.Now ye unto whom I tell this, I rede ye to mourn Kay's woe,For full oft as his manhood bade him, he many a strife did know.And in many a land they speak thus, that Kay, Arthur's seneschal,305Was a firebrand, hell-born, yet I wot well far other the tale I'ld tell.From reproach would I gladly free him, tho' few but should say me nay,Yet a gallant man and a worthy, I swear was this knight, Sir Kay.And my mouth to this truth beareth witness, and more would I tell to thee;Unto Arthur's Court came strangers in many a company,310And their manners and ways were diverse, nor all there might honour claim,But Kay an he saw false dealing, he counted such ways as shame,And his face he turned from the sinner, yet he who dealt courteously,And true man with true men would hold him, Kay served him right heartily.And one who fall well discernèd the manner of men was Kay,315Thus he did to his lord good service, for his harsh words drave far awayThe men who would falsely vaunt them good knights and true to be,Ill was he to them as a hailstorm, sharp as sting of an angry bee.Small wonder that these deny him his honour and knightly fame,True servant and wise they found him, and for this cause upon his name320Their hatred doth still heap slander—Prince Herman, Thuringia's lord,Thou with vassals that crowd around thee, and strangers who seek thy board,Good service might Kay have done thee, since so free art thou aye of hand,That true men and men dishonoured, side by side in thine hall they stand;And therefore Knight Walter singeth, 'Now greeting to all I bring,325Men evil and good!' And I trow well, where a singer such song may sing,There the false are too highly honoured—Nay, far other Sir Kay had taught,(Yea, and Heinrich of Rispach also)—Now hearken ye in what sortOn Plimizöl's plain men bare them; from the field Sir Kay was borneTo the tent of his king, and around him, o'er his ill-fate his friends did mourn;330And maiden and knight they stood there; to the tent where his comrade layCame Gawain, and he quoth in sadness, 'Alas! for the woeful dayThat so ill a joust was ridden that hath robbed me of a friend!'Then out spake Kay in his anger, 'Now make of thy moan an end,If comfort thou here wouldst bring me, do not as the women do,335Since thou art my monarch's nephew! I would do to thee service true,As of free heart I ever did it, in the day that God gave me power,Nor long for my aid hadst thou prayed me! There cometh, perchance, an hourWhen I, as of old, may serve thee: now cease thou thy moan I pray,For tho' mine be the pain, yet my monarch shall ne'er find another Kay,340And I wot that for mine avenger art thou all too nobly born;An yet hadstthoulost a finger I had counted myself forswornAn I risked not mine head to pay it! Let that be as it may,Believe me or not, as shall please thee, yet sooth are the words I say!''No joust shalt thou ride at my urging, for roughly he greets his foe,345Who holdeth without his station, and rideth nor swift nor slow.And I think me, of maidens' tresses, tho' frail be such cord and fair,Enough from such strife to bind thee, the chain of a single hair!And the man who shall show such meekness, he well doth hismotherlove,Since hissirewould fain in the conflict his knightly mettle prove.350But follow thou aye thy mother, Sir Gawain, list well her rede.Turn thou pale at the glancing sword-blade, and shrink from the manly deed!'And thus on the gallant hero the bitter words he spakeFell sharply, he looked not for them, nor on Kay might he vengeance take,Full seldom a knight may do so, since shame on his lips setteth seal,355But they who thus speak discourteous, such shame shall they never feel.Then Gawain he quoth in answer, 'Where men knightly sword might bear,And have foughten, and I fought with them, then no man beheld me there,And saw that my cheek waxed paler at sight of wound or blow.I was ever thy friend—'twas needless that thou shouldst reproach me so!'360Then he strode from the tent, and he bade them bring hither his charger good,Nor spur on his heel he buckled, unarmed he his steed bestrode.So came he unto the Waleis (whose sense was of love held fast),And his shield to all eyes bare witness of three spears thro' its circle passed,For three jousts of late had he ridden, and he rode them with heroes twain,365Of Orilus too was he smitten—Then gently uprode Gawain,And he spurred not his steed to gallop, nor conflict nor strife he sought,For he rode but in love and in kindness, to seek him who here had fought.Fair spake Gawain the stranger, to greeting deaf was he,Frau Minne yet held him captive, how other might it be?370True son of Herzeleide, to this lot was he born,To lose himself for love's sake; such passion as had tornThe hearts of these his parents, afresh in his heart awoke,And but little his ear might hearken what the mouth of Gawain spoke.Quoth King Lot's son unto the Waleis,' Sir Knight, here thou doest ill375In that thou withholdest greeting—tho' patient I wait thy willFar otherwise can I bear me! Know thou that to friend and king,Yea, to all whom I count my fellows, thy deed doth dishonour bring,And our shame ever waxeth greater; yet prayed I for thee this grace,The king of free heart forgives thee, if now thou shalt seek his face.380So hearken, I pray, my counsel, and do thou as I shall say,And ride thou with me to King Arthur, nor too long shalt thou find the way.'Nor threatening nor prayer might move him, this fair son of Gamuret:Then the pride of King Arthur's knighthood his memory backward set,And he thought of Frau Minne's dealings, and the time when the knife's sharp blade385He drave thro' his hand unwitting, thro' the love of a gracious maid.And that time when from death's cold clutches, a queen's hand had set him free,When of Lähelein was he vanquished, and captive in joust was he,And a queen in the day of his danger must pledge her fair life for his,And her name shall of men be praisèd, Queen Ingus of Bachtarliess.390Thought Gawain, 'It may be Frau Minne dealeth so with this goodly man,As she dealt with me of old time, so claspeth him in the banOf her magic spells fair-woven, that his spirit within the snareShe holdeth fast entangled'—Then his eyes on the snow-flakes fairHe cast, and he knew the token, and swift from the spell-bound sight395With cloth of fair silk and sendal, he covered the blood-drops bright.The blood-stained snow was hidden, nor longer its spell was seen,And his sight and his sense unclouded she gave him, his wife and queen;Yet his heart did she hold in her keeping, and its dwelling was Pelrapär,And he cried aloud in his sorrow thro' the silent summer air;400'Alas! who of thee hath robbed me, who erewhile wast my queen and wife,For thy love, thy crown, and thy kingdom my right hand hath won in strife.Say, say, am I he who saved thee from Klamidé the warrior king?Yea, sorrow and bitter sighing, and grief that the heart doth wringAre the guerdons I won in thy service, and now from mine eyes be-dazed405Art thou reft, and thy place I know not, tho' but now on thy face I gazed.'Then he quoth, 'Now, where shall my spear be, since I wot well I brought it here?'Quoth Gawain, 'A joust hast thou ridden, and splintered shall be thy spear.''With whom should I joust?' quoth the Waleis, 'thou bearest nor sword nor shield,And little had been mine honour, an thou to my hand didst yield!410Yet bear I awhile thy mocking, nor will I thy friendship pray,Tho' many a joust have I ridden, yet my saddle I kept alway.An thou be not for jousting minded, and I find not in thee a foe,Yet the world lieth wide before me, and hence on my way I go;For labour and strife am I seeking and fain would I win me praise,415Be anguish or joy my portion; nor unfruitful shall be my days.'Quoth Gawain, 'What I spake aforetime I spake of true heart and free,Nor my thoughts were the thoughts of evil, for well would I deal with thee;And the boon that I crave will I win me, my monarch with many a knightLieth here at hand with his army, and with many a lady bright,420An it please thee, Sir Knight, to betake thee to our goodly company,From all strife shall this right hand guard thee, and gladly I'll ride with thee.''I thank thee, Sir Knight, fair thou speakest, yet say ere with thee I ride,Who the monarch may be whom thou servest? and who rideth here at my side?''A man do I hail as master, thro' whose fame much fame I won,425Nor here shall my mouth keep silence on the things he for me hath done.For dear hath he ever held me, and as true knight did me entreat:(His sister King Lot hath wedded, and the twain I as parents greet.)And the good gifts God gave unto me, to his service I yield them all,For my hand and my heart he ruleth, whom men do King Arthur call.430Nor mine own name need here be hidden, nor a secret shall long remain,For the folk and the lands that know me, they call on me as Gawain:And fain would I do thee service, alike with my hand and name,If thou turnest here at my bidding, nor bringest upon me shame!'Then he quoth, 'Is it thou, O Gawain? too little I yet have done435That thou shouldst as a friend entreat me; yet hast thou this honour wonThat all men thou gently treatest—and thy friendship I here will take,Yet not for mine own deserving, but repayment I fain would make.Now say where thine army lieth, since so many tents I seeThat stand fair by the brink of the river? If King Arthur in truth shall be440So near, then must I bemoan me, that in honour I may not dareTo enter his royal presence, or look on his queen so fair.Since 'tis meet that I first avenge me of a foul and discourteous blow,For which, since the day I left them, I sorrow and shame must know.For a maiden as she beheld me, laughed sweetly, the seneschal445For my sake smote the maid so sorely, 'twas a wood that upon her fell.'
Now perchance it were well I should tell ye, how, as this his folk did pray,From Karidöl and his kingdom, King Arthur had ridden away.And now the venture telleth, on his own and on stranger groundFor eight days long had they ridden, nor yet had the Red Knight found.For in truth 'twas for him they were seeking, to honour his hand were fain,5From sorrow had he released them, who had erst Prince Ither slain;And Klamidé the king, and Kingron, in a welcome hour had sentTo the court of the Breton Monarch: for on this was King Arthur bent,He would make him one of his circle, a knight of the Table Round,No labour too great he counted, so the hero at last he found!10
Thus o'er mountain and vale they sought him—All who knightly shield might bear,King Arthur now called around him, and in this wise he bade them swear:What deeds so e'er of knighthood they should see, by this their oath,They should on no conflict venture, but faithful still keep their troth,As they sware unto him, their monarch, and fight but as he thereto15Should give them leave—He spake thus, 'Now, 'tis well! Since we needs must goThro' many a stranger country, where many a stranger spear,And many a gallant hero are waiting us, I fear,If ye, like hounds untrainèd whose leash shall have slipped the handOf him who was late their master, shall roam free o'er all the land,20Much evil might there befall ye, and such chance should but please me ill,And by this your oath, I think me, such rashness I best may still.Be ye sure and need ariseth, your king ne'er will say you Nay,Till then, as I here command ye, ride peaceful upon your way.'
Now the oath, ye shall well have heard it—Now hear ye how Parzival,25The Waleis, rode near unto them: thro' the night did the snow-flakes fall,Light they fell, yet lay thickly on him, yet if well I the tale may know,And the singer aright hath sung it, it was never the time of snow;For whate'er men have sung or spoken of King Arthur, at Whitsuntide,Or when May-blossoms deck the meadow, these marvels did aye betide.30For sweetly the springtide bloometh, and many a garb, I ween,Shall it bear this song of my singing, tho' snow-clad it now be seen.
The falconers from Karidöl, as the shadows of evening fell,Rode, hawking, by Plimizöl's waters, when an evil chance befell,For the best of their hawks flew from them, nor stooped to the lure again,35But all night in the dusky shadows of the woodland it did remain.
With Parzival it sheltered; to the twain was the woodland wayA road unknown, sharp the frost stung, in the far east uprose the day,And, lo! all around the hero, the snow-flakes lay thick and white:Thro' the forest paths untrodden, in ever waxing light,40Rode our hero by hedge or thicket, by rock and by fallen tree,Till clear grew the shadowy woodland, and its depths he well might see,And a mighty tree of the forest had fallen where he would ride,(The falcon yet followed after) 'mid its clustering boughs he spiedA flock of wild-geese from the Northland, their hissing he first had heard,45Swift swooped the falcon upon them and struck to the earth a bird:And scarce might it fly the clutches of its foe, and fresh shelter take'Neath the shade of the fallen branches; in its flight from the wounds there brakeThree blood-drops, all glowing crimson, and fell on the spotless snow,As Parzival's eyes beheld them, swift sorrow his heart must know!50
Now hear ye his love so loyal—As he looked on these blood-drops bright,That stained with a stain of crimson the snow-flakes that lay so white,He thought, 'Say what hand hath painted these colours that here I see?Kondwiramur, I think well, these tints sure shall liken thee!And white snow and blood-drops crimson, do ever thy likeness share,55For this favour I praise God's working, and the world he hath wrought so fair!For in this wise I read the vision,—in this snow that so spotless lies,'Gainst the blood-drops, that ruddy-gleaming, glow crimson beneath mine eyes,I find ever thy face so gracious, my lady, Kondwiramur,Red as blood-drops and white as the snowdrift, it rejoiceth me evermore!'60Then her sweet face arose before him, in that night she first sought his side,When on each cheek a tear-drop glistened, and a third to her chin did glide.And so true was his love and steadfast, little recked he of aught around,But wrapped round in love and longing, saw naught but the blood-stained ground.Frau Minne with force constrained him, as here on his wife he thought,65And by magic of colours mystic, a spell on his senses wrought.
So held he him still, as sleeping—Would ye know who found him there?The squire of fair Kunnewaaré would forth unto Lalande fare,And as on his way he journeyed, by the woodland green he sawA helmet all battle-dinted, and a shield which yet traces bore70Of many a bitter conflict that was foughten for lady fair;And a knight there abode in armour, and his lance he aloft did bearAs one who here patient waited the joust that he fain would ride.The squire swiftly turned his bridle and back to the camp he hied.Yet in sooth had he seen the stranger, and his lady's champion known,75He had ne'er been so swift to decry him, nor had wished he were overthrown,Nor e'en as he were an outlaw, set the heroes upon his track:The squire he of queen unfaithful, small wonder he knighthood lacked!
And in this wise he called upon them, 'Fie! Fie! on ye, coward knights!Hold ye not Gawain for a marvel? Have ye not in a hundred fights80Won honour and fame as heroes, who fight for a hero king?Know now that ye stand dishonoured, and broken your goodly ring!'Ah! then there arose a clamour, and none but was fain to knowOf the deed of knightly prowess, that should shame their honour so.When they heard how but one knight dared them, that but one knight a foe did wait,85Then sorely they mourned the promise that they sware to their king of late.Then Knight Segramor sprang swiftly from amid the angry throng,He ran, for in sooth he walked not, and ever his heart did longTo be in the midst of conflict, where conflict might chance to be,An they failèd with cords to bind him, in the thick of the fight was he!90And nowhere the Rhine's swift waters may flow so strong and wide,Tho' the stream should run swift between them, an men fought on the further side,He stayed not to test the waters, if the current be hot or cold,But straightway the stream he breasted, as fitted a swimmer bold!
Swift-foot to the tent of the monarch, the eager youth he sped,95For the day was but yet in its dawning, and the king he lay yet abed.Then straight thro' the lists he hied him, and he gat him thro' the door,And the covering all of sable, with hasty hand he toreFrom the twain who lay warm beneath it, and slumbered a slumber deep,Yet his haste moved them but to laughter, tho' he waked them from out their sleep!100And loudly he cried on his cousin—'Queen, Lady, Guinevere,Since the world knoweth well our kinship, thou must do me this service here,Speak thou for me to thine husband, and pray thou of him this grace,Since a knightly venture nears us, my lotfirstthe foe to face!'
Yet Arthur spake, 'Now bethink thee of the oath thou didst swear to me,105In all things my will to follow, nor rashly to venture thee;For if thou a joust now ridest, hereafter shall many a knightCrave leave at mine hand to ride forth, and seek for fame in fight,And 'twere ill thus our force to weaken, for know thou that near at hand,Anfortas of Monsalväsch with a mighty host doth stand.110This wood of his he guardeth, and since we but little knowWhere he and his force shall hold them, such chance well might work us woe!'
Yet Guinevere wrought so wisely Segramor was well-nigh fainTo die of joy, from King Arthur, his lady this grace did gain.And on fame and honour only was the gallant youth intent,115Nor for gold had he sold the venture on which his heart was bent.
Now the hero young and beardless, well armed his steed bestrode,And over the fresh young greensward his charger at full speed rode;And the bushes were bent beneath him, and the golden bells rang clearOn trapping alike and armour; and I deem well an need were here120To seek for the magic pheasant mid thicket and thorny brake,He who fain this knight had followed, the bells for his guide might take!Thus rashly rode the hero, to him whom Frau Minne's spellFast fettered in magic fetters, and no blow at the first there fell,For the peace by his word was broken—There held fast by threefold might,125And the power of red blood-drops threefold stood ever the stranger knight.
(Yea, well I myself have known this, how Frau Minne with power may hold,And holding, the senses scatter, and with passion of grief untoldShall fill the heart to o'erflowing—'Twas a woman who wrought this ill,And vanquished, she doth condemn me, and refuseth me comfort still.130Thus draweth she guilt upon her, for the sin shall be hers, I ween,And afar must I fly from the presence, that of old time my joy hath been.)
Thus Segramor quoth unto him, 'Now it seemeth but ill to meThat thus near our army lieth, and our presence rejoiceth thee!And thou holdest his fame too lightly, whom with pride we may hail our king,135And 'tis meet thou for this do penance,—or the death-chime for me shall ring!Thus armed, all too near thou ridest; yet first would I courteous prayThat thou yield thee at this my bidding, or my wrong will I here repay,And my blow shall be swift, and thy falling shall scatter these snow-flakes white!And I call on thee here to yield thee, ere I put thee to shame, Sir Knight!'140
Yet Parzival still kept silence—for Frau Minne, so fair and young,In a sorer conflict held him—Then his steed Segramor swungAside, as for jousting ready, round wheeled him the war-horse goodOn whose back the gallant hero yet sate in mystic mood,And ever he gazed on the blood-drops; as his charger turned him round145Awhile from his eyes they vanished, and fame in their stead he found!For swift as the blood-drops crimson thus passed from his dazzled sight,He hearkened the voice of the foeman, and braced him anew for fight.
Then as Segramor rode against him, Parzival sought afresh the spearThat he found by the woodland chapel, with blazon of colours clear;150For tough was the shaft, and he gripped it, and he held the point full low,As his foeman dashed fair against him, his shield rang with the ringing blow.Then he spurred him anew to the onslaught, and the joust he so well repaid,That the knight in his golden armour was low in the snowdrift laid!Yet still was the spear unsplintered, tho' it bare him from off his horse;155And Parzival still kept silence, and he wheeled him upon his course,And his eyes sought once more the blood-drops, and e'en as they met his sightFrau Minne with fetters bound him, and held him in cords of might,And he spake never word, nor question, but gazed ever upon the ground,And, dreaming, he lost the knowledge which he for a space had found!160
But affrighted, the gallant charger had fled back into its stall,And its rider arose, little comfort might he find, though he soft might fall!Outstretched had he lain in the snowdrift, in such wise e'en as men shall goTo rest, yet but ill he sleepeth, who sleepeth on couch of snow!And such bed had sorrow brought me! for he to whom ill betides165Hath but mocking for his bedfellow, but the lucky doth God's hand guide.
So near was King Arthur's army, that right well might ParzivalBe seen of all men, and the wonders, and the conflict that then befell.The victor by Love was vanquished, by Love that in days of oldDid the king of all kings the wisest, King Solomon, captive hold!170Short space, then, ere back to the army once more Knight Segramor came,An with praise or with blame they should greet him, he counted it still the same.And sharp words he flung among them, with mocking tongue and bold,Tho' vanquished, yet not dishonoured, must they ever the hero hold!
And he quoth, 'Have ye never heard this, that strife bringeth loss as gain?175And never a joust, I wot me, but the victor doth one remain,While one aye shall be the vanquished: The best ship in storm may sink,And I wot that ye ne'er have heard me to speak, for I ne'er did think,An he knew of my shield the blazon, he had faced me not as a foe!Much evil, in sooth, hath he wrought me, and yet doth he wait below180All those who would ride against him, for he seemeth for conflict fain,An a knight should in joust o'erthrow him, such chance might he count for gain.'
Then straightway unto King Arthur Sir Kay did the tidings bring,How his knight, Segramor, had fallen, and his victor, without their ring,A young knight, for jousting ready, yet waited with ill intent—185'Nay, I think an this stranger warrior of so many unpunished went,A burden both sore and shameful on our honour such lack would lay;Now, my king, an thou hold me worthy, do thou grant me this grace, I pray,I would ride hence to ask his meaning, who thus in the presence fairOf our Queen Guinevere and her maidens his lance-point aloft doth bear;190But if thou shouldst this boon refuse me, then know, not another hourI abide here as this thy servant; for I hold that the knightly powerAnd the fair fame of thy Round Table are stainèd if we delayTo arm ourselves 'gainst the stranger who dareth our strength to-day!Now, I prithee, give leave to fight him—For tho' blind and deaf were we,195Yet 'tis time that we should defend us'—'As thou willest, so let it be!'
Then swift did the seneschal arm him, and I ween in fierce anger's fireA woodland he fain had wasted 'gainst the foe, who with strong desireAnd love was thus sorely burdened; for Frau Minne a magic spellHad wrought with the snow-flakes spotless, and the blood-drops that crimson fell.200And his knighthood he sorely shamèd, who thought here to work him harm,Since he faileth true Love to honour, who denieth of Love the charm.
Frau Minne, say, why dost thou make glad the souls that mournWith bliss that too swiftly fleeting, but leaveth them more forlorn?And how canst thou, Frau Minne, true worth and knightly fame,205And manly strength and courage, thus vanquish and put to shame?For the least is to thee as the greatest, and the earth shall no hero boast,Who thinketh to scorn thine empire, but he learneth unto his costThat thou canst, an thou wilt, o'erthrow him; yea, all men thy power obey,For thy sceptre we own as mighty, and wide as the world its sway.210
Yet this one thing it doth thee honour, tho' thou rulest all else but ill,Joy maketh her dwelling with thee, and for this would I praise thee still!
Frau Minne, alas! of old time full false were thy ways, I ween,Nor hast thou thy dealings mended, nor to-day hast thou truer been,Thou hast many a maiden shamèd, who love forbidden sought;215Thro' thy dealings, upon the vassal, his lord hath sorrow brought;And the friend shall false and faithless to the friend of his bosom prove,And the servant betray his master; such deeds do but shame thee, Love!And I would that it were far from thee, the body to yield to lust,In such wise that the soul ashamèd is stricken with sorrow's thrust,220And that with force compelling, the young thou makest old,Though their years but few be counted, this must we for treason hold!
Such speech, I ween, beseems not the man who in serving theeHath comfort found! If succour thine hand ever brought to me,I had been less slow to praise thee, but sorrow and loss alone225Hast thou counted to me as guerdon, and such glamour thine art hath thrownO'er mine eyes, that, methinks, henceforward I trust thee never more,Though small profit it brought unto thee, the bitter grief I bore!And yet too high above me art thou, that whate'er my wrong,I should e'en as a fool upbraid thee with bitter words and strong:230For thy spear too sharply pierces, and scarce may we bear the weight,Thou layest at will upon us—Methinks he who sang of late,'Neath a tree, of thy mystic dealings, and thy wondrous ways of old,Had better done had he told us how we thy grace might hold!(Heinrich of Veldeck was he, and he taught us, I ween, right well235Of the winning of Love, of its guarding, alas! he failed to tell.)For oft one thro' folly loses the prize that he late did win;Yea, to me hath such fate befallen, yet Frau Minne,thinewas the sin!Since all wisdom shall be thy portion, since against thee nor spear, nor shield,Nor charger, nor guarded fortress their vaunted power can wield,240I know not what shall withstand thee, nor on earth, nor on the sea!He who feareth to face thy conflict, say whither shall he flee?'Twas thy mystic power, Frau Minne, that dealt thus with Parzival,And reft him awhile of knowledge, and wrought with him as a fool.For fair was the queen and gracious who reigned in far Pelrapär,245And she thought on her lord and husband, and she made thee her message bear.And for this cause Kardeiss her brother, hast thou for thy payment slair,And since thou such tribute askest, 'tis well that I ne'er have ta'enFrom thine hand aught of good, since in such wise thou dost for thy debtors care—This I spake for the sake of all men—List ye now how Sir Kay did fare:250
Now he rode forth in knightly armour to the strife that he sore did crave,And Gamuret's son, right willing, to his wish fulfilment gave.And wherever fair maids compelling, their voices uplift in prayer,And the grace they shall ask be granted, let them pray here for his welfare,Since it was thro' a woman's beauty, that the spell of a woman wrought255Love's magic, of senses robbed him—Then his charger to halt Kay brought;And he spake to the gallant Waleis, 'Sir Knight, since thou thus our kingHast shamed, thou shalt hear my counsel, for wisdom perchance 'twill bring;Thou shalt hang thee a hempen halter around thy neck straightway,For so may I lightly lead thee, and take thou with me thy way.260Nor think thou, thou canst escape me, but with me unto my lordShalt thou go, as befits a captive, else worse may be thy reward!'
By love constrained, the Waleis nor word nor answer spoke,Kay gripped his spear-shaft tightly and he smote with a mighty strokeOn the hero's head, till the helmet rang loudly beneath his hand;265And he quoth, 'Now will I awake thee! Dost think here to take thy stand,And standing sleep unsheeted? Nay, other shalt thou fare,Low on the snow I'll lay thee! The ass that is wont to bearThe sack from the mill would rue it, did one smite him in such wise,As here I think now to smite thee, and thy sloth and thy sleep chastise!'270
Frau Minne, now bethink thee, for sore this shameth thee,For an one should wrong a peasant, in this wise his speech will be,'My lord will sure repay thee!' Vengeance from thee he'ld seekMethinks, this gallant Waleis, an thou wouldst let him speak!Now let him from out thy circle, and loose him from thy ban,275This stranger guest shalt prove him, a true and valiant man!
Swift rode Sir Kay unto him, and he turned his bridle round,And no more his longing glances their joy and their sorrow found,The white snow and blood-drops crimson, that mystic likeness bareTo the queen of his love and his longing, the Lady of Pelrapär;280He knew all that passed around him—His charger Sir Kay addrestTo jousting, he spurred him onward, and his spear he laid in rest.
In the joust, that which Kay had aimed at he smote, for his spear did pierceThe Waleis' shield, yet swift payment was his, for in onslaught fierceThe seneschal of King Arthur fell prone on the fallen tree,285Where the geese erewhile had hid them, and hurt full sore was he,And dead lay his gallant charger—''Twixt a stone and the saddle-bow,Right arm, and left leg had he broken—so mighty his overthrowThat all that had decked his charger, girths, saddle, bells of gold,By the force of the fall were shattered, thus the stranger his payment told,290And with one blow, for twain repaid him—the one that erst for his sake,A maiden had borne and the other, which he from Kay's hand must take.
Thus he who knew naught of falsehood was guided of truth to knowHer message in blood-drops threefold, on the white of the drifted snow.'Twas tear-drops, not blood, that he saw there, and well might his senses fail,295And the thoughts of his heart wax heavy, as he mused on the wondrous Grail,And sorely the semblance grieved him that spake of his wife and queen.Yet tho' o'er the twain he sorrowed, the greater woe, I ween,Was the woe that Frau Minne wrought him, for there liveth not heart so strong,But longing and love united break its power, ere the time be long.300Count we here those twain as ventures? Nay, 'twere better methinks to hold,That they were naught but pain and sorrow, that vanquished the hero bold.
Now ye unto whom I tell this, I rede ye to mourn Kay's woe,For full oft as his manhood bade him, he many a strife did know.And in many a land they speak thus, that Kay, Arthur's seneschal,305Was a firebrand, hell-born, yet I wot well far other the tale I'ld tell.From reproach would I gladly free him, tho' few but should say me nay,Yet a gallant man and a worthy, I swear was this knight, Sir Kay.And my mouth to this truth beareth witness, and more would I tell to thee;Unto Arthur's Court came strangers in many a company,310And their manners and ways were diverse, nor all there might honour claim,But Kay an he saw false dealing, he counted such ways as shame,And his face he turned from the sinner, yet he who dealt courteously,And true man with true men would hold him, Kay served him right heartily.
And one who fall well discernèd the manner of men was Kay,315Thus he did to his lord good service, for his harsh words drave far awayThe men who would falsely vaunt them good knights and true to be,Ill was he to them as a hailstorm, sharp as sting of an angry bee.Small wonder that these deny him his honour and knightly fame,True servant and wise they found him, and for this cause upon his name320Their hatred doth still heap slander—Prince Herman, Thuringia's lord,Thou with vassals that crowd around thee, and strangers who seek thy board,Good service might Kay have done thee, since so free art thou aye of hand,That true men and men dishonoured, side by side in thine hall they stand;And therefore Knight Walter singeth, 'Now greeting to all I bring,325Men evil and good!' And I trow well, where a singer such song may sing,There the false are too highly honoured—Nay, far other Sir Kay had taught,(Yea, and Heinrich of Rispach also)—Now hearken ye in what sortOn Plimizöl's plain men bare them; from the field Sir Kay was borneTo the tent of his king, and around him, o'er his ill-fate his friends did mourn;330And maiden and knight they stood there; to the tent where his comrade layCame Gawain, and he quoth in sadness, 'Alas! for the woeful dayThat so ill a joust was ridden that hath robbed me of a friend!'Then out spake Kay in his anger, 'Now make of thy moan an end,If comfort thou here wouldst bring me, do not as the women do,335Since thou art my monarch's nephew! I would do to thee service true,As of free heart I ever did it, in the day that God gave me power,Nor long for my aid hadst thou prayed me! There cometh, perchance, an hourWhen I, as of old, may serve thee: now cease thou thy moan I pray,For tho' mine be the pain, yet my monarch shall ne'er find another Kay,340And I wot that for mine avenger art thou all too nobly born;An yet hadstthoulost a finger I had counted myself forswornAn I risked not mine head to pay it! Let that be as it may,Believe me or not, as shall please thee, yet sooth are the words I say!'
'No joust shalt thou ride at my urging, for roughly he greets his foe,345Who holdeth without his station, and rideth nor swift nor slow.And I think me, of maidens' tresses, tho' frail be such cord and fair,Enough from such strife to bind thee, the chain of a single hair!And the man who shall show such meekness, he well doth hismotherlove,Since hissirewould fain in the conflict his knightly mettle prove.350But follow thou aye thy mother, Sir Gawain, list well her rede.Turn thou pale at the glancing sword-blade, and shrink from the manly deed!'
And thus on the gallant hero the bitter words he spakeFell sharply, he looked not for them, nor on Kay might he vengeance take,Full seldom a knight may do so, since shame on his lips setteth seal,355But they who thus speak discourteous, such shame shall they never feel.
Then Gawain he quoth in answer, 'Where men knightly sword might bear,And have foughten, and I fought with them, then no man beheld me there,And saw that my cheek waxed paler at sight of wound or blow.I was ever thy friend—'twas needless that thou shouldst reproach me so!'360Then he strode from the tent, and he bade them bring hither his charger good,Nor spur on his heel he buckled, unarmed he his steed bestrode.
So came he unto the Waleis (whose sense was of love held fast),And his shield to all eyes bare witness of three spears thro' its circle passed,For three jousts of late had he ridden, and he rode them with heroes twain,365Of Orilus too was he smitten—Then gently uprode Gawain,And he spurred not his steed to gallop, nor conflict nor strife he sought,For he rode but in love and in kindness, to seek him who here had fought.Fair spake Gawain the stranger, to greeting deaf was he,Frau Minne yet held him captive, how other might it be?370True son of Herzeleide, to this lot was he born,To lose himself for love's sake; such passion as had tornThe hearts of these his parents, afresh in his heart awoke,And but little his ear might hearken what the mouth of Gawain spoke.
Quoth King Lot's son unto the Waleis,' Sir Knight, here thou doest ill375In that thou withholdest greeting—tho' patient I wait thy willFar otherwise can I bear me! Know thou that to friend and king,Yea, to all whom I count my fellows, thy deed doth dishonour bring,And our shame ever waxeth greater; yet prayed I for thee this grace,The king of free heart forgives thee, if now thou shalt seek his face.380So hearken, I pray, my counsel, and do thou as I shall say,And ride thou with me to King Arthur, nor too long shalt thou find the way.'
Nor threatening nor prayer might move him, this fair son of Gamuret:Then the pride of King Arthur's knighthood his memory backward set,And he thought of Frau Minne's dealings, and the time when the knife's sharp blade385He drave thro' his hand unwitting, thro' the love of a gracious maid.And that time when from death's cold clutches, a queen's hand had set him free,When of Lähelein was he vanquished, and captive in joust was he,And a queen in the day of his danger must pledge her fair life for his,And her name shall of men be praisèd, Queen Ingus of Bachtarliess.390Thought Gawain, 'It may be Frau Minne dealeth so with this goodly man,As she dealt with me of old time, so claspeth him in the banOf her magic spells fair-woven, that his spirit within the snareShe holdeth fast entangled'—Then his eyes on the snow-flakes fairHe cast, and he knew the token, and swift from the spell-bound sight395With cloth of fair silk and sendal, he covered the blood-drops bright.
The blood-stained snow was hidden, nor longer its spell was seen,And his sight and his sense unclouded she gave him, his wife and queen;Yet his heart did she hold in her keeping, and its dwelling was Pelrapär,And he cried aloud in his sorrow thro' the silent summer air;400'Alas! who of thee hath robbed me, who erewhile wast my queen and wife,For thy love, thy crown, and thy kingdom my right hand hath won in strife.Say, say, am I he who saved thee from Klamidé the warrior king?Yea, sorrow and bitter sighing, and grief that the heart doth wringAre the guerdons I won in thy service, and now from mine eyes be-dazed405Art thou reft, and thy place I know not, tho' but now on thy face I gazed.'
Then he quoth, 'Now, where shall my spear be, since I wot well I brought it here?'Quoth Gawain, 'A joust hast thou ridden, and splintered shall be thy spear.''With whom should I joust?' quoth the Waleis, 'thou bearest nor sword nor shield,And little had been mine honour, an thou to my hand didst yield!410Yet bear I awhile thy mocking, nor will I thy friendship pray,Tho' many a joust have I ridden, yet my saddle I kept alway.An thou be not for jousting minded, and I find not in thee a foe,Yet the world lieth wide before me, and hence on my way I go;For labour and strife am I seeking and fain would I win me praise,415Be anguish or joy my portion; nor unfruitful shall be my days.'
Quoth Gawain, 'What I spake aforetime I spake of true heart and free,Nor my thoughts were the thoughts of evil, for well would I deal with thee;And the boon that I crave will I win me, my monarch with many a knightLieth here at hand with his army, and with many a lady bright,420An it please thee, Sir Knight, to betake thee to our goodly company,From all strife shall this right hand guard thee, and gladly I'll ride with thee.''I thank thee, Sir Knight, fair thou speakest, yet say ere with thee I ride,Who the monarch may be whom thou servest? and who rideth here at my side?'
'A man do I hail as master, thro' whose fame much fame I won,425Nor here shall my mouth keep silence on the things he for me hath done.For dear hath he ever held me, and as true knight did me entreat:(His sister King Lot hath wedded, and the twain I as parents greet.)And the good gifts God gave unto me, to his service I yield them all,For my hand and my heart he ruleth, whom men do King Arthur call.430Nor mine own name need here be hidden, nor a secret shall long remain,For the folk and the lands that know me, they call on me as Gawain:And fain would I do thee service, alike with my hand and name,If thou turnest here at my bidding, nor bringest upon me shame!'
Then he quoth, 'Is it thou, O Gawain? too little I yet have done435That thou shouldst as a friend entreat me; yet hast thou this honour wonThat all men thou gently treatest—and thy friendship I here will take,Yet not for mine own deserving, but repayment I fain would make.Now say where thine army lieth, since so many tents I seeThat stand fair by the brink of the river? If King Arthur in truth shall be440So near, then must I bemoan me, that in honour I may not dareTo enter his royal presence, or look on his queen so fair.Since 'tis meet that I first avenge me of a foul and discourteous blow,For which, since the day I left them, I sorrow and shame must know.For a maiden as she beheld me, laughed sweetly, the seneschal445For my sake smote the maid so sorely, 'twas a wood that upon her fell.'