'Rough vengeance thou here hast taken! (Gawain to the Waleis spake)Since thou in a joust hast felled him, and right arm and left leg he brake.Ride here, see his charger lifeless, that lieth the stone below;On the snowdrift behold the splinters of the spear that hath dealt the blow!450'Tis the spear thou but now wast seeking!' Then the truth knew Sir Parzival,And straightway he spake unto Gawain, 'Now, if this be the seneschal,And the man who so sorely shamed me, if thou swear me that this was he,Thou mayst ride where thou wilt, and gladly will I ride in thy company!''Nay, never a lie do I tell thee,' quoth Gawain, 'thou hast overthrown455Segramor, who ere now in battle was ever as victor known,He fell ere yet Kay had met thee: great deeds hast thou done to-day,Since o'er two of our bravest heroes the prize thou hast borne away.'So rode they, the one with the other, the Waleis and Knight Gawain,And the folk, both afoot and on horseback, with honour would greet the twain,460Gawain and his guest the Red Knight, this did they of courtesy,And the twain to his fair pavilion they gat them right speedily.And the lady, fair Kunnewaaré, whose tent by Gawain's did stand,Rejoiced, and she joyful greeted the hero, whose strong right handHad failed not to wreak stern vengeance for the ill that Kay wrought that day;465Then her brother and fair Jeschuté she led by the hand straightway,And Parzival looked upon them as the three to his tent drew near,And his face, thro' the rust of his armour, it shone ever fair and clear,As roses dew-dipped had flown there: his harness aside he laid,And he stood before Kunnewaaré, and thus spake the gentle maid:470'To God shalt thou first be welcome, as welcome thou art to me,Since thy manhood thou well hast proven, and the faith that I had in thee!Ere the day that my heart beheld thee, nor laughter nor smiles I knew,And Kay, who in that hour smote me, with stern hand my gladness slew.But now hast thou well avenged me! With a kiss I thy deed would pay,475If I of thy kiss were worthy!' 'Nay, so had I thought to-dayTo crave of thy lips my payment,' quoth Parzival, 'if thou stillWilt give me such gracious greeting, right gladly I'll do thy will!'Then she kissed him, and down they sate them, and the princess a maiden sentAnd bade her to bring rich raiment; so sped she unto the tent;480And the garments they lay there ready, of rich silk of Nineveh,For her prisoner, King Klamidé, had she fashioned them cunningly.Then the maiden who bare the garments, full sorely must she bewailThat the mantle was yet unfinished, since the silken cord did fail.Then the lady, Kunnewaaré, from her side drew a silken band485From the folds of her robe, in the mantle she wove it with skilful hand.Then courteous her leave he prayed him, the rust would he wash away,And fair shone his face, and youthful, and his lips they were red that day.And robed was the gallant hero, and so bright and so fair was he,That all men who there beheld him, they sware he for sure must be490The flower and the crown of manhood, a knight without shame or fear;And they looked upon him, and they praised him and his colour waxed bright and clear,And right well did his garb become him; an emerald green and rare,The gift of fair Kunnewaaré, as clasp at his neck he bare;And a girdle beside she gave him, all wrought in a cunning row495With mystic beasts, bejewelled, that burnt with a fiery glow,And its clasp was a red-fire ruby—How think ye the beardless youthWas seen when thus richly girded? Fair was he in very sooth,For so the story runneth—the folk bare him right goodwill,Men and women who looked upon him, they counted him worthy still.500Forthwith, as the Mass was ended, came Arthur the noble king,And the knights of his Table with him, a goodly following.No man there whose lips spake falsehood. Yea, all heard the word that day,'With Gawain the Red Knight dwelleth!' the king thither took his way.Then the knight who so sore was beaten came swiftly, Sir Antanor,505For, fain to behold the Waleis, his feet sped the king before,And he asked, 'Art thou he who avenged me, and the lady of fair Lalande?Now vanished shall be Kay's honour, for it falleth unto thine hand,And an end hast thou made of his threatening, and the days of his strife are o'er,For his arm it is weak, and his vengeance I fear for it never more!'510And so fair was the knight and radiant, that all men beheld his faceAs an angel from heaven, that wingless, abideth on earth a space.And well did King Arthur greet him, and his knights were no whit behind,And all they who looked upon him, naught but love in their hearts might find,And their lips to their heart made answer, and all spake to his praises, 'Yea,'515And no man gainsaid the other, so lovely his mien that day!Then Arthur spake fair unto him, 'Thou hast wrought me both joy and pain,Yet ne'er from the hand of a hero such honour I thought to gainAs the honour that thou hast brought me! yet no service I did to thee,An I did, then thy fame had repaid it, tho' no other thy deeds should be520Than the deed thou hast done in the winning for Jeschuté her husband's grace!Nor Kay's guilt had been unavengèd, if ere this I had seen thy faceMyself had, unasked, chastised him.' Then Arthur in this wise spake,'Since so far they had come, and their journey had they taken but for his sake,They all with one voice did pray him, to swear to them brotherhood,525And be one of the gallant Table, a comrade both true and good.'And their prayer it seemed good unto him, and joyful at heart was he,And he sware them the oath that they asked for, and their knight would he gladly be.Now hear ye, and speak the verdict, if on this day the Table RoundIts right, and its due observance had here, as aforetime found;530Since for many a day King Arthur in this wise had ruled his court,No knight should break bread before him, if there came of fair venture naught.But enough should have chanced this morning, and to Table they well might go,Though from Nantes might they never bear it, yet they here would its semblance show.Wide enow was the flowery meadow, nor hindered them tree or tent,535As they did here their monarch's bidding—for this was his heart's intent,Fair honour to give the Red Knight, and his valour, as meet, reward—Then a silk in Acraton woven, they laid on the grassy sward,'Twas brought from far lands of paynim, and 'twas shapen both wide and round;For ever this courteous custom mid these gallant knights was found,540No high seat had they of honour, but all men were equal there;And thus had King Arthur willed it, both the knights and their ladies fairAt the Table Round were welcome, yea, an they might honour claim,Knight, lady, or gentle maiden, at his court all should fare the same!And there, with her maiden following, came fair Guinevere the queen,545And many a noble princess amid her train was seen,And none but was fair to look on, and the ring it was spread so wideThat within, without strife or crowding, each maid sat her knight beside.And Arthur, who ne'er knew falsehood, led the Waleis by the hand,And Kunnewaaré she walked beside him, the lady of fair Lalande,550From sorrow the knight had freed her—Then, with kind and friendly eyes,Looked Arthur upon the hero, and he spake to him in this wise:'My queen will I bid to kiss thee, who art fair both of form and face,For ne'er, in this court, of lady I ween wouldst thou crave this grace,Since from Pelrapär thou hast ridden, and wert thou on kissing bent555From lips of all lips the fairest, hast thou there thy full heart's content!Yet this one grace will I pray thee, if ever there dawn the dayThat I find 'neath thy roof abiding, this kiss I may then repay!''In sooth, will I do thy bidding,' quoth the Waleis, 'both there and here!'Then unto the gallant hero stepped the Lady Guinevere,560And fair on the lips she kissed him, and she quoth, 'Here I pardon theeThe ill thou aforetime didst me, and the sorrow thou gavest me.Thou didst leave me sorely grieving, when from hence thou didst ride away.By thy hand and thy dart my kinsman Prince Ither was slain that day!'And all tear-bedewed were the eyelids of the Lady Guinevere,565For Prince Ither's death wrought sorrow unto many a woman dear.Now must King Klamidé seat him, on the bank by Plimizöl,And beside him sate Iofreit, who was son unto King Idöl;And 'twixt Klamidé and Gawain must the Waleis have his place—And they know who tell the venture, none sate here of royal grace,570None who woman's breast had suckled, whose fame stood so high and fair,For courage and youthful beauty did the Waleis, as jewels, wear.And they owned, who there looked upon him, that many a maiden brightSaw herself in a darker mirror than the lips of this fair young knight.And on cheek and on chin his colour might well as fetters be575For those who should need such fetters, whose fancy flitteth free.Here might there be naught of changing—(of women my rede I trowFor some they are ever wavering, and ever new friendships know!)But his look ever constant held them, till I wot well that thro' their eyesHis entry he gained triumphant, and made of their hearts his prize!580Thus maiden and man beheld him, and his honour all men did praise,Till he found here the goal of sighing, and the end of his joyous days.For hither came one I must tell of, and faithful was she in truthTho' discourteous her ways, and for sorrow, I ween, had she little ruth!And the folk for her message sorrowed—Now hear how the maid must ride,585Her mule it was tall as a war-horse, and branded on either side;And its nostrils were slit as is custom in the far land of Hungary,Yet her harness and bridle were costly, with rich work broidered cunningly.Soft and slow paced her mule, yet the maiden was not as a maid, I trow.What sought she? She came as 'twas fated, and sorrow must Arthur know.590And of wisdom forsooth this maiden might boast her a wondrous store,No tongue but she spake, French, Latin, and Paynim: in all such loreAs men read in the highest heavens, Dialectics, Geometry,In all was she courteous trainèd, and her name it was called Kondrie.'The sorceress' did men name her, nor her speech halted on its way,595Too ready her tongue, since rejoicing she smote into grief that day.This maiden, so rich in wisdom, bare little of maiden grace,No lover e'er praised her beauty, no tongue spake her fair of face.A tempest she, joy destroying, yet of bridal cloth from GhentDid she wear a mantle, bluer than azure the soft tints blent.600As a cap was it fairly fashioned, such as maidens in France shall wear,And beneath it, around her body, a silken robe she bare.And a hat of the English peacock, with silk of orient lined,And new was the hat, and the fastening, and it hung low the maid behind.And like to a bridge her message, that sorrow o'er joy had crossed,605And shame enough did she bring them, till laughter in tears was lost.In a thick plait above her headgear had she flung her tresses back,And adown on the mule were they hanging, so long, and so coarse, and black,Nor softer to touch than the bristles, which swine on their backs shall show.And her nose as a dog's was shapen, and from out her mouth did grow610Two tusks as had 'seemed a wild boar, a hand's-breadth long were they;And above her eyes the eyebrows as thick as plaits they lay.And I speak but the truth, as I needs must, tho' my words lack in courtesySince I speak of a maid, yet, for such cause, none other reproacheth me.And ears as a bear had Kondrie, and never the eye might trace615A shy glance of love, or of longing, I ween in that wondrous face.And a scourge did she bear, and the handle was a ruby, of silk the cord;And the hands of this winsome maiden like a lion's were sharply clawed,And the skin as an ape's was dusky, and the nails they were not too light,And I ween, for her maiden favours, but seldom would heroes fight!620So rode she unto the circle, and her coming did sorrow bring,And fair joy did she put in peril—Then turned she unto the king,(And Kunnewaaré sat beside him, his table-mate was she,And fair Guinevere, his consort, a queen bare her company.)Thus in royal state King Arthur as monarch sat that day—625To the Breton king rode Kondrie, and in French did she speak alway;And tho' I in another language than hers shall the venture tell,Yet I rede ye to wit that the telling it pleaseth me none too well!'Thou son of high Pendragon, thyself, and thy Breton host,By thy deed hast thou shamed—From all lands the noblest that they might boast630Once sat here a gallant circle, but poisoned is now their fame,And thy Table Round dishonoured by traitor, and brought to shame.King Arthur, o'er all thy fellows, thy praises of old stood high,But it sinketh now, thy glory, and thy fame, that did swiftly fly,Henceforward goeth halting; thine honour doth seek the ground635Since it showeth stain of falsehood—The fame of thy Table RoundIt suffered for the friendship ye with Parzival did swear,Tho' I wot well the outward token of a spotless knight he bear."The Red Knight" ye here do call him, the name of one who layDead before Nantes, yet I tell thee unlike in their life are they!640For no mouth hath read of a hero whose fame knew nor fault nor flaw,As his!' From the king she turned her, and did rein by the Waleis draw,And she quoth, 'Now sore shalt thou rue it, since I, for thy sake denyMy greeting unto King Arthur, and the knights of his company.May thy fair face be dishonoured, and thy manhood I look on here.645Of forgiveness and joy were I merchant, in sooth shouldst thou buy them dear!And I deem thou art but a monster, and myself shall far fairer be!Speak, Sir Parzival, as I bid thee, and this riddle read thou to me,When thou sawest the fisher sit there, joyless, of comfort reft,Why didst thou not loose his sighing? Why was he in bondage left?'650'For he showed thee of his sorrow—Oh! thou false and faithless guest,For hadst thou had pity on him, his anguish had gotten rest.I would that thy mouth might perish, yea, the tongue thy mouth within,For e'en as the heart the tongue is, in thineheartis the root of sin.To Hell shalt thou be predestined, by the Ruler of Heaven high,655And this be on earth thy portion, that true men thy face shall fly.And ban hast thou won for blessing, and for bliss shalt thou find but bale,For too late dost thou strive for honour, and thy striving shall naught avail.And so feeble shall wax thy manhood, and thy fame it shall be so weak,That never shall soul's physician the promise of healing speak.660An one to the oath should drive me, on thine head were I fain to swear,That never a darker treason was wrought by a man so fair.Thou hook in fair feathers hidden, bright serpent with poisoned fang,Who ne'er of the sword was worthy, which thine host at thy side did hang!The goal of thy sins, this thy silence, of Hell's horde art thou now the sport,665And dishonour upon thy body, Sir Parzival, hast thou wrought.Saw'st thou not how they bare before thee the Grail, and the bleeding spear,And sharp silver? Thy joy's destruction, and thy shelter from grief were here!''Yea, hadst thou but asked at Monsalväsch; afar, in a heathen land,Rich o'er all earthly riches, doth the town of Tabronit stand;670Yet the riches thy speech had won thee had been greater far, I ween—And with gallant strife of knighthood the hand of that country's queenFeirefis Angevin hath won him: no fear doth his manhood stain;One father, I ween, hath borne ye, yet unlike shall ye be, ye twain.And thy brother is strange to look on, for both white and black his face,675And at Zassamank he reigneth o'er the folk of his mother's race.''And my thoughts to thy sire are turning; his country was fair Anjou,And he left thee far other heirdom (for his heart never falsehood knew,)Than the heritage thou hast won thee, and the crown of an evil fame!And could I but think thy mother had wrought here a deed of shame680I had said thathischild thou wert not! Yet her faith it but wrought her woe,And of her naught but good be spoken! And thy father, as all men know,In his manhood was true and steadfast, and in many a distant landHe won for him meed of honour, and his praise o'er all men did stand.For great heart and little falsehood as a roof did defend his breast,685A dam 'gainst the flood of evil, and a home for his love to rest.And in manly strength and courage was his honour for aye held fast,Butthytruth it is turned to falsehood, and thine honour to earth is cast!Alas! for the day I heard it, alas! for the mournful tale,That the child of fair Herzeleide in knighthood and faith should fail.'690She herself was the prey of sorrow, and her hands did she wring amain,While the teardrops they chased each other down her cheeks like a shower of rain.And her eyes they gave faithful witness to the grief that her bosom filled,For of true heart she spake, the maiden, nor e'en then was the sorrow stilled.Then unto the king she turned her, and she spake 'Is there here a knight695Who yearneth for love's rewarding, and for honour and fame would fight?For I know of four queens, and maidens four hundred, and all are fair,In Château Merveil is their dwelling; and like to the empty airShall be all knightly ventures to the venture that Burg within,Yet he who shall face its peril, from true love shall his guerdon win.700And tho' far be that Burg and distant, and weary and rough the way,Its walls must I seek if haply I reach them ere close of day.'And sad was the maid, not joyful, nor courteous she bade farewell,But weeping she gazed around her, and she cried as the teardrops fell,'Ah! woe unto thee, Monsalväsch, thou dwelling and goal of grief,705Since no man hath pity on thee, or bringeth thy woe relief!'Thus had the sorceress Kondrie, that maiden fierce and proud,Wrought evil upon the Waleis, and his fame to the earth had bowed.Naught they helped him, his bold heart's counsel, his manhood and knightly fame,And high o'er all other virtues, the virtue of knightly shame.710(For falsehood he ne'er had hearkened,) and true shame doth rewarding bring,And it crowneth the soul with honour as the circlet doth crown a king.And he who true shame doth cherish his work shall for ever stand—Then she lifted her voice o'er the maidens, the maiden of fair Lalande,And she wept for the words of Kondrie, and the sorrow of Parzival,715For the fairest of men did she deem him; and swiftly the teardrops fellFrom the eyes of many a woman, for the sake of that hero bold,And they sorrowed at heart, and their weeping must many a knight behold!Now sorrow had Kondrie brought them; and e'en as her way she wentAnother must ride towards them on a warlike errand bent;720A knight of a haughty bearing, and his harness was fair to see,From his foot to the goodly helmet, and royal its cost must be,And richly plumed was the helmet; and, e'en as the man, the steedWas clad in such glittering armour as serveth for knightly need.And he found them, both man and maiden, heavy and sad at heart,725As he rode nigh unto the circle; hear ye how he bare his part—Tho' his mien it was high and haughty, yet his heart it was full of woe,Of the twain shall ye learn the reason; thro' his manhood he pride must know,Yet grief to his heart taught mourning—Thus rode he unto the ring,Were it well he should come within it? Then squires to his aid did spring,730And the gallant knight they greeted, yet were he and his shield unknown,Nor he doffed from his head the helmet, and sorrow was his alone;And his hand bare a sword unsheathèd, and he asked for those heroes twain,'Where are they whom I fain would speak with, King Arthur and Knight Gawain?'Then straight thro' the ring he passed him, and a costly coat he bare,735And 'twas wrought of silk all shining, in Orient woven fair;And before the host he halted as he sate there within the ring,And he spake aloud, 'God's favour be on thee, thou gracious king,And upon these knights and ladies—To all whom mine eyes here see,I offer, in greeting, service, yet beonefrom my greeting free;740For ne'er will I do him service, nay, rather I choose his hate,If ill-will he beareth to me, mine ill-will with his may mate!''And 'twere well that I name him to ye. Alas! alas! woe is me!My heart he so sore hath wounded, mine anguish o'er-great shall be!And here doth he sit, Sir Gawain, whom all men were wont to praise,745High standeth his fame, yet dishonour it ruleth, methinks, his ways;Since avarice to this betrayed him, in greeting my lord he slew,The kiss once by Judas given, it taught him such guile anew.Many thousand hearts hath he wounded—'Twas murder base, abhorred,And he, upon whom he wrought it, erewhile was my dearest lord.750An Sir Gawain would here deny it, true answer our strife shall yield,Forty days from to-day shall he meet me, and face me on battlefield,Before Askalon's king and ruler, in the city of Schamfanzon;Thus I bid him in honour face me, and for conflict his armour don.''And this grace shall he not refuse me, but thither his shield shall bear;755And yet further shall he bethink him, by the helmet he weareth fair,And the life that a knight beseemeth, who two treasures in pledge doth hold,True shame, and a faith unwavering, and their fame shall be new, as old.But from shame may Gawain ne'er free him, if a knight of the Table Round,Whose heroes stand here before me, he thinketh he may be found.760For its honour and fame are vanished, if false knight sit its board beside—Methinks ye have heard mine errand, and ye know I came not to chide,For here would I not blame, but battle, and death shall my guerdon be,An it be not a life of honour, that Good Fortune shall hold for me!'Then sad was the king and silent, yet answer at last he gave,765'Know, Sir Knight, that Gawain is my nephew, and myself would the conflict braveEre his bones should lie dishonoured—If Good Fortune by Gawain standIn strife shalt thou well acknowledge, 'neath the might of his strong right handThat his body in faith he keepeth, and falsehood afar doth hold.If another hath done thee evil methinks art thou over-bold,770His shame dost thou speak too loudly, who never hath done thee ill—If he winneth, perchance, thine homage, and thou ownest him guiltless still,Yet hast thou in short space spoken such words of a blameless knightAs have shamèd for aye thine honour, if this folk read the thing aright!'Then upsprang the proud Knight Beaucorps, brother to Gawain he,775And he spake in his wrath, 'Wouldst thou fight him? Then myself his pledge will be,For thou speakest false of Gawain; and know that thy words of shameHave kindled anew within me fierce wrath's devouring flame.An thou speakest not Gawain guiltless of all dishonour, IStand here to fight his battle, and to be his surety.780Think not by thy words of scorning to lower his lofty fame,Unstainèd is Gawain's honour, and thy words are but words of shame!'Then he turned him to his brother, and he spake of true heart and free,'Bethink thee now, my brother, of all thou hast done for me,Thou hast helped me unto the winning of fame, for thy toil's reward785Bid me here to be hostage for thee, and bid me thine honour guard.If Good Fortune be here my portion, and I win here my meed of fame,Thenthinebe the crown of honour, and thy foeman hath naught but shame.'By his knighthood and love as a brother he besought him right earnestly;Quoth Gawain, 'Now in sooth, my brother, too wise shall I surely be790To hearken to thee, and to grant thee what thou askest of right good-will;What meaneth this strife, I wot not, and of fighting have had my fill,Of good-will would I ne'er deny thee what boon thou from me shouldst crave,Yet shame must I bear for ever if this conflict I fail to brave!'Yet Beaucorps he prayed him straitly—then out spake the stranger knight,795'A man whom I ne'er have heard of now lusteth with me to fight!I spake not ofhim, and no evil, methinks, hath he done to me.Strong, gallant, and fair to look on, and faithful and rich is he,And well might he be my hostage, yet againsthimno wrath I bear—My lord and my kinsman was he for whose death I this strife declare,800And brothers twain were our fathers, as comrades and kinsmen true;And were he a crownèd monarch against whom my sword I drew,By my birth might I give him battle, and vengeance of right demand,Of a royal race, and a princely, was I born in a distant land.And Askalon is my country, I am Landgrave of Schamfanzon,805Kingrimursel do they call me; if Gawain's fame be not outrunNo otherwise may he free him, but conflict with me must dare.Yet safe-conduct throughout my kingdom, from all save my hand, I swear,In peace may he ride, and safety, to the field where I vengeance claim;God keep in His grace those I leave here, save one, and ye knowhisname!'810So passed he, the gallant hero, from the plain of Plimizöl,And e'en as his name was namèd, all men knew Kingrimursel,For the fame of this knight so valiant was known thro' the far lands wide,And it seemèd them well that to Gawain might ill thro' this strife betideWhen they thought of the strength and the manhood of this knight who rode swift away.815And many must sorely vex them that no honour he won that day;Yet full often a message cometh, I myself shall such venture know,Of such wise, that the guest who bears it, of his host must ungreeted go!From Kondrie they heard the tidings of Parzival's name and kin,How a queen, she had been his mother, and his sire was an Angevin.820And they spake—''Twas at fair Kanvoleis, and the story we know full well,He served her with deeds of knighthood, and many a joust befell,And there by his dauntless manhood he won him that lady bright;And the noble Queen Anflisé, she taught him, that gallant knight,Such courtesy as befitted a hero of lineage high;825And no Breton but shall rejoice him, that his son now draweth nigh,For of him, e'en as of his father, may this tale of a truth be toldThat honour is his yoke-fellow, as she was of his sire of old.'Thus joy alike and sorrow came to Arthur's host that day,And mingled, the life of the heroes, since the twain they must have their way.830Upstood they all as one man, and all with one voice they wept,And the bravest knights among them within the circle stept,And they looked on Gawain and the Waleis where each by the other stood,And they wove them fair words of comfort to pleasure the heroes good.But Klamidé the king bethought him that the loss which should be his share835Was greater than that of another, and too sharp was his pain to bear,And to Parzival he quoth thus, 'If the Grail thee for lord must own,Yet still would I mourn my sorrow, and of true heart my woe make known.For the kingdom of Tribalibot, and Kaucasus' golden strand,Whatsoe'er shall be writ of riches in Christian or paynim land,840Yea, even the Grail and its glory, they had failèd the hurt to cureWhich at Pelrapär was my portion, or the grief that I here endure!Ah me! Of all men most wretched am I since thy valiant handOf joy and of blessing robbed me!—See the princess of fair Lalande,Know thou that this noble lady she keepeth such faith with thee,845That no service else she craveth, and none other knight will she;Yet well might she crown his service who served her for love alone!And that I am so long her captive, methinks may she well bemoan.If my joy thou to life wouldst quicken, then give me thine aid, I pray,And teach her herself to honour in such wise that her love repay850In a measure the ill thou didst me, and that which thro' thee I lost,When the goal of my joy fled from me and my pathway by thee was crossed,But for thee, I, methinks, had reached it, and if thou art foeman trueThou wilt help me with this fair maiden, and my gladness shall wax anew!''Right gladly will I,' quoth the Waleis, 'if so be she will grant my prayer,855For fain would I bring thee comfort, sincemineis that maiden fairFor whose sake thou sore didst sorrow, my wife and my queen is she,Kondwiramur, the fairest of all women on earth that be!'Then the heathen Queen of Ianfus, King Arthur, and Guinevere,Kunnewaaré of Lalande, and Jeschuté of Karnant, who these words must hear,860Came near with sweet words of comfort—what would ye they should do more?Kunnewaaré they gave to Klamidé, who yearned for her love so sore,And he gave her, as her rewarding, himself, his body fair,And a queenly crown and golden henceforth on her head she bare!Quoth the heathen unto the Waleis, 'Kondrie a man hath named,865Whom thou as in truth thy brother, rejoicing, might well have claimed;For far and wide he ruleth in the power of a double crown,And alike by land and water men in fear to his hand bow down.And Assagog is one kingdom, Zassamank shall the other be,Two mighty lands and powerful from fear and from weakness free.870And naught shall be like his riches save those the Baruch doth own,Or those of far Tribalibot, he is worshipped as God alone!A marvel his skin to look on, and like unto none his face,For 'tis black, and 'tis white, as his parents, who sprang of a diverse race.Thro' one of his lands I journeyed as hither I took my way,875And full fain had he been my wanderings in a far-off land to stay.Yet but little his will prevailèd, tho' I am his near of kin,The cousin unto his mother, andheis a mighty king!Yet hear thou more of his prowess; his saddle no man may keepWho rideth a joust against him, and fame doth he richly reap.880And no gentler knight or truer e'er lay on a mother's breast,And falsehood it fleeth from him, and truth in his heart doth rest.Yea, true and fair in his dealings is Feirefis Angevin,And women he serveth duly, tho' he pain thro' his service win!''Tho' all men to me were strangers, yet hither I came to know885What ventures of gallant knighthood a Christian land might show;And of all Heaven's gifts the highest, I ween, shall thy portion be,And Christendom winneth honour thro' the praise it doth give to thee.And thine is a noble bearing, and fair is thy form and face,And in thee beauty mates with manhood, and strength doth thy youth embrace!'890(Both rich and wise was the heathen, and of wisdom she token gave,In the French tongue her speech was holden.) Then out spake the hero brave,And he quoth, 'God reward thee, Lady, who thinkest to comfort me,Yet sorrow it fast doth bind me, and the cause would I tell to thee,For the shame that has here befallen think not I shall lightly bear,895And here many sin against me, who give to my plaint no ear,The while I must list their mocking!—No joy shall my portion beOr long or short be my wanderings, till the Grail once again I see!For my soul's unrest constrains me, and it driveth me on my way,Nor so long as my life endureth shall my feet from their wanderings stay!'900
'Rough vengeance thou here hast taken! (Gawain to the Waleis spake)Since thou in a joust hast felled him, and right arm and left leg he brake.Ride here, see his charger lifeless, that lieth the stone below;On the snowdrift behold the splinters of the spear that hath dealt the blow!450'Tis the spear thou but now wast seeking!' Then the truth knew Sir Parzival,And straightway he spake unto Gawain, 'Now, if this be the seneschal,And the man who so sorely shamed me, if thou swear me that this was he,Thou mayst ride where thou wilt, and gladly will I ride in thy company!''Nay, never a lie do I tell thee,' quoth Gawain, 'thou hast overthrown455Segramor, who ere now in battle was ever as victor known,He fell ere yet Kay had met thee: great deeds hast thou done to-day,Since o'er two of our bravest heroes the prize thou hast borne away.'
So rode they, the one with the other, the Waleis and Knight Gawain,And the folk, both afoot and on horseback, with honour would greet the twain,460Gawain and his guest the Red Knight, this did they of courtesy,And the twain to his fair pavilion they gat them right speedily.And the lady, fair Kunnewaaré, whose tent by Gawain's did stand,Rejoiced, and she joyful greeted the hero, whose strong right handHad failed not to wreak stern vengeance for the ill that Kay wrought that day;465Then her brother and fair Jeschuté she led by the hand straightway,And Parzival looked upon them as the three to his tent drew near,And his face, thro' the rust of his armour, it shone ever fair and clear,As roses dew-dipped had flown there: his harness aside he laid,And he stood before Kunnewaaré, and thus spake the gentle maid:470
'To God shalt thou first be welcome, as welcome thou art to me,Since thy manhood thou well hast proven, and the faith that I had in thee!Ere the day that my heart beheld thee, nor laughter nor smiles I knew,And Kay, who in that hour smote me, with stern hand my gladness slew.But now hast thou well avenged me! With a kiss I thy deed would pay,475If I of thy kiss were worthy!' 'Nay, so had I thought to-dayTo crave of thy lips my payment,' quoth Parzival, 'if thou stillWilt give me such gracious greeting, right gladly I'll do thy will!'
Then she kissed him, and down they sate them, and the princess a maiden sentAnd bade her to bring rich raiment; so sped she unto the tent;480And the garments they lay there ready, of rich silk of Nineveh,For her prisoner, King Klamidé, had she fashioned them cunningly.Then the maiden who bare the garments, full sorely must she bewailThat the mantle was yet unfinished, since the silken cord did fail.Then the lady, Kunnewaaré, from her side drew a silken band485From the folds of her robe, in the mantle she wove it with skilful hand.
Then courteous her leave he prayed him, the rust would he wash away,And fair shone his face, and youthful, and his lips they were red that day.And robed was the gallant hero, and so bright and so fair was he,That all men who there beheld him, they sware he for sure must be490The flower and the crown of manhood, a knight without shame or fear;And they looked upon him, and they praised him and his colour waxed bright and clear,And right well did his garb become him; an emerald green and rare,The gift of fair Kunnewaaré, as clasp at his neck he bare;And a girdle beside she gave him, all wrought in a cunning row495With mystic beasts, bejewelled, that burnt with a fiery glow,And its clasp was a red-fire ruby—How think ye the beardless youthWas seen when thus richly girded? Fair was he in very sooth,For so the story runneth—the folk bare him right goodwill,Men and women who looked upon him, they counted him worthy still.500
Forthwith, as the Mass was ended, came Arthur the noble king,And the knights of his Table with him, a goodly following.No man there whose lips spake falsehood. Yea, all heard the word that day,'With Gawain the Red Knight dwelleth!' the king thither took his way.
Then the knight who so sore was beaten came swiftly, Sir Antanor,505For, fain to behold the Waleis, his feet sped the king before,And he asked, 'Art thou he who avenged me, and the lady of fair Lalande?Now vanished shall be Kay's honour, for it falleth unto thine hand,And an end hast thou made of his threatening, and the days of his strife are o'er,For his arm it is weak, and his vengeance I fear for it never more!'510
And so fair was the knight and radiant, that all men beheld his faceAs an angel from heaven, that wingless, abideth on earth a space.And well did King Arthur greet him, and his knights were no whit behind,And all they who looked upon him, naught but love in their hearts might find,And their lips to their heart made answer, and all spake to his praises, 'Yea,'515And no man gainsaid the other, so lovely his mien that day!
Then Arthur spake fair unto him, 'Thou hast wrought me both joy and pain,Yet ne'er from the hand of a hero such honour I thought to gainAs the honour that thou hast brought me! yet no service I did to thee,An I did, then thy fame had repaid it, tho' no other thy deeds should be520Than the deed thou hast done in the winning for Jeschuté her husband's grace!Nor Kay's guilt had been unavengèd, if ere this I had seen thy faceMyself had, unasked, chastised him.' Then Arthur in this wise spake,'Since so far they had come, and their journey had they taken but for his sake,They all with one voice did pray him, to swear to them brotherhood,525And be one of the gallant Table, a comrade both true and good.'And their prayer it seemed good unto him, and joyful at heart was he,And he sware them the oath that they asked for, and their knight would he gladly be.
Now hear ye, and speak the verdict, if on this day the Table RoundIts right, and its due observance had here, as aforetime found;530Since for many a day King Arthur in this wise had ruled his court,No knight should break bread before him, if there came of fair venture naught.But enough should have chanced this morning, and to Table they well might go,Though from Nantes might they never bear it, yet they here would its semblance show.Wide enow was the flowery meadow, nor hindered them tree or tent,535As they did here their monarch's bidding—for this was his heart's intent,Fair honour to give the Red Knight, and his valour, as meet, reward—Then a silk in Acraton woven, they laid on the grassy sward,'Twas brought from far lands of paynim, and 'twas shapen both wide and round;For ever this courteous custom mid these gallant knights was found,540No high seat had they of honour, but all men were equal there;And thus had King Arthur willed it, both the knights and their ladies fairAt the Table Round were welcome, yea, an they might honour claim,Knight, lady, or gentle maiden, at his court all should fare the same!
And there, with her maiden following, came fair Guinevere the queen,545And many a noble princess amid her train was seen,And none but was fair to look on, and the ring it was spread so wideThat within, without strife or crowding, each maid sat her knight beside.And Arthur, who ne'er knew falsehood, led the Waleis by the hand,And Kunnewaaré she walked beside him, the lady of fair Lalande,550From sorrow the knight had freed her—Then, with kind and friendly eyes,Looked Arthur upon the hero, and he spake to him in this wise:
'My queen will I bid to kiss thee, who art fair both of form and face,For ne'er, in this court, of lady I ween wouldst thou crave this grace,Since from Pelrapär thou hast ridden, and wert thou on kissing bent555From lips of all lips the fairest, hast thou there thy full heart's content!Yet this one grace will I pray thee, if ever there dawn the dayThat I find 'neath thy roof abiding, this kiss I may then repay!''In sooth, will I do thy bidding,' quoth the Waleis, 'both there and here!'Then unto the gallant hero stepped the Lady Guinevere,560And fair on the lips she kissed him, and she quoth, 'Here I pardon theeThe ill thou aforetime didst me, and the sorrow thou gavest me.Thou didst leave me sorely grieving, when from hence thou didst ride away.By thy hand and thy dart my kinsman Prince Ither was slain that day!'
And all tear-bedewed were the eyelids of the Lady Guinevere,565For Prince Ither's death wrought sorrow unto many a woman dear.Now must King Klamidé seat him, on the bank by Plimizöl,And beside him sate Iofreit, who was son unto King Idöl;And 'twixt Klamidé and Gawain must the Waleis have his place—And they know who tell the venture, none sate here of royal grace,570None who woman's breast had suckled, whose fame stood so high and fair,For courage and youthful beauty did the Waleis, as jewels, wear.And they owned, who there looked upon him, that many a maiden brightSaw herself in a darker mirror than the lips of this fair young knight.And on cheek and on chin his colour might well as fetters be575For those who should need such fetters, whose fancy flitteth free.Here might there be naught of changing—(of women my rede I trowFor some they are ever wavering, and ever new friendships know!)But his look ever constant held them, till I wot well that thro' their eyesHis entry he gained triumphant, and made of their hearts his prize!580
Thus maiden and man beheld him, and his honour all men did praise,Till he found here the goal of sighing, and the end of his joyous days.For hither came one I must tell of, and faithful was she in truthTho' discourteous her ways, and for sorrow, I ween, had she little ruth!And the folk for her message sorrowed—Now hear how the maid must ride,585Her mule it was tall as a war-horse, and branded on either side;And its nostrils were slit as is custom in the far land of Hungary,Yet her harness and bridle were costly, with rich work broidered cunningly.Soft and slow paced her mule, yet the maiden was not as a maid, I trow.What sought she? She came as 'twas fated, and sorrow must Arthur know.590And of wisdom forsooth this maiden might boast her a wondrous store,No tongue but she spake, French, Latin, and Paynim: in all such loreAs men read in the highest heavens, Dialectics, Geometry,In all was she courteous trainèd, and her name it was called Kondrie.'The sorceress' did men name her, nor her speech halted on its way,595Too ready her tongue, since rejoicing she smote into grief that day.
This maiden, so rich in wisdom, bare little of maiden grace,No lover e'er praised her beauty, no tongue spake her fair of face.A tempest she, joy destroying, yet of bridal cloth from GhentDid she wear a mantle, bluer than azure the soft tints blent.600As a cap was it fairly fashioned, such as maidens in France shall wear,And beneath it, around her body, a silken robe she bare.And a hat of the English peacock, with silk of orient lined,And new was the hat, and the fastening, and it hung low the maid behind.And like to a bridge her message, that sorrow o'er joy had crossed,605And shame enough did she bring them, till laughter in tears was lost.
In a thick plait above her headgear had she flung her tresses back,And adown on the mule were they hanging, so long, and so coarse, and black,Nor softer to touch than the bristles, which swine on their backs shall show.And her nose as a dog's was shapen, and from out her mouth did grow610Two tusks as had 'seemed a wild boar, a hand's-breadth long were they;And above her eyes the eyebrows as thick as plaits they lay.And I speak but the truth, as I needs must, tho' my words lack in courtesySince I speak of a maid, yet, for such cause, none other reproacheth me.
And ears as a bear had Kondrie, and never the eye might trace615A shy glance of love, or of longing, I ween in that wondrous face.And a scourge did she bear, and the handle was a ruby, of silk the cord;And the hands of this winsome maiden like a lion's were sharply clawed,And the skin as an ape's was dusky, and the nails they were not too light,And I ween, for her maiden favours, but seldom would heroes fight!620
So rode she unto the circle, and her coming did sorrow bring,And fair joy did she put in peril—Then turned she unto the king,(And Kunnewaaré sat beside him, his table-mate was she,And fair Guinevere, his consort, a queen bare her company.)Thus in royal state King Arthur as monarch sat that day—625To the Breton king rode Kondrie, and in French did she speak alway;And tho' I in another language than hers shall the venture tell,Yet I rede ye to wit that the telling it pleaseth me none too well!
'Thou son of high Pendragon, thyself, and thy Breton host,By thy deed hast thou shamed—From all lands the noblest that they might boast630Once sat here a gallant circle, but poisoned is now their fame,And thy Table Round dishonoured by traitor, and brought to shame.King Arthur, o'er all thy fellows, thy praises of old stood high,But it sinketh now, thy glory, and thy fame, that did swiftly fly,Henceforward goeth halting; thine honour doth seek the ground635Since it showeth stain of falsehood—The fame of thy Table RoundIt suffered for the friendship ye with Parzival did swear,Tho' I wot well the outward token of a spotless knight he bear."The Red Knight" ye here do call him, the name of one who layDead before Nantes, yet I tell thee unlike in their life are they!640For no mouth hath read of a hero whose fame knew nor fault nor flaw,As his!' From the king she turned her, and did rein by the Waleis draw,
And she quoth, 'Now sore shalt thou rue it, since I, for thy sake denyMy greeting unto King Arthur, and the knights of his company.May thy fair face be dishonoured, and thy manhood I look on here.645Of forgiveness and joy were I merchant, in sooth shouldst thou buy them dear!And I deem thou art but a monster, and myself shall far fairer be!Speak, Sir Parzival, as I bid thee, and this riddle read thou to me,When thou sawest the fisher sit there, joyless, of comfort reft,Why didst thou not loose his sighing? Why was he in bondage left?'650
'For he showed thee of his sorrow—Oh! thou false and faithless guest,For hadst thou had pity on him, his anguish had gotten rest.I would that thy mouth might perish, yea, the tongue thy mouth within,For e'en as the heart the tongue is, in thineheartis the root of sin.To Hell shalt thou be predestined, by the Ruler of Heaven high,655And this be on earth thy portion, that true men thy face shall fly.And ban hast thou won for blessing, and for bliss shalt thou find but bale,For too late dost thou strive for honour, and thy striving shall naught avail.And so feeble shall wax thy manhood, and thy fame it shall be so weak,That never shall soul's physician the promise of healing speak.660An one to the oath should drive me, on thine head were I fain to swear,That never a darker treason was wrought by a man so fair.Thou hook in fair feathers hidden, bright serpent with poisoned fang,Who ne'er of the sword was worthy, which thine host at thy side did hang!The goal of thy sins, this thy silence, of Hell's horde art thou now the sport,665And dishonour upon thy body, Sir Parzival, hast thou wrought.Saw'st thou not how they bare before thee the Grail, and the bleeding spear,And sharp silver? Thy joy's destruction, and thy shelter from grief were here!'
'Yea, hadst thou but asked at Monsalväsch; afar, in a heathen land,Rich o'er all earthly riches, doth the town of Tabronit stand;670Yet the riches thy speech had won thee had been greater far, I ween—And with gallant strife of knighthood the hand of that country's queenFeirefis Angevin hath won him: no fear doth his manhood stain;One father, I ween, hath borne ye, yet unlike shall ye be, ye twain.And thy brother is strange to look on, for both white and black his face,675And at Zassamank he reigneth o'er the folk of his mother's race.'
'And my thoughts to thy sire are turning; his country was fair Anjou,And he left thee far other heirdom (for his heart never falsehood knew,)Than the heritage thou hast won thee, and the crown of an evil fame!And could I but think thy mother had wrought here a deed of shame680I had said thathischild thou wert not! Yet her faith it but wrought her woe,And of her naught but good be spoken! And thy father, as all men know,In his manhood was true and steadfast, and in many a distant landHe won for him meed of honour, and his praise o'er all men did stand.For great heart and little falsehood as a roof did defend his breast,685A dam 'gainst the flood of evil, and a home for his love to rest.And in manly strength and courage was his honour for aye held fast,Butthytruth it is turned to falsehood, and thine honour to earth is cast!Alas! for the day I heard it, alas! for the mournful tale,That the child of fair Herzeleide in knighthood and faith should fail.'690She herself was the prey of sorrow, and her hands did she wring amain,While the teardrops they chased each other down her cheeks like a shower of rain.And her eyes they gave faithful witness to the grief that her bosom filled,For of true heart she spake, the maiden, nor e'en then was the sorrow stilled.
Then unto the king she turned her, and she spake 'Is there here a knight695Who yearneth for love's rewarding, and for honour and fame would fight?For I know of four queens, and maidens four hundred, and all are fair,In Château Merveil is their dwelling; and like to the empty airShall be all knightly ventures to the venture that Burg within,Yet he who shall face its peril, from true love shall his guerdon win.700And tho' far be that Burg and distant, and weary and rough the way,Its walls must I seek if haply I reach them ere close of day.'And sad was the maid, not joyful, nor courteous she bade farewell,But weeping she gazed around her, and she cried as the teardrops fell,'Ah! woe unto thee, Monsalväsch, thou dwelling and goal of grief,705Since no man hath pity on thee, or bringeth thy woe relief!'
Thus had the sorceress Kondrie, that maiden fierce and proud,Wrought evil upon the Waleis, and his fame to the earth had bowed.Naught they helped him, his bold heart's counsel, his manhood and knightly fame,And high o'er all other virtues, the virtue of knightly shame.710(For falsehood he ne'er had hearkened,) and true shame doth rewarding bring,And it crowneth the soul with honour as the circlet doth crown a king.And he who true shame doth cherish his work shall for ever stand—Then she lifted her voice o'er the maidens, the maiden of fair Lalande,And she wept for the words of Kondrie, and the sorrow of Parzival,715For the fairest of men did she deem him; and swiftly the teardrops fellFrom the eyes of many a woman, for the sake of that hero bold,And they sorrowed at heart, and their weeping must many a knight behold!
Now sorrow had Kondrie brought them; and e'en as her way she wentAnother must ride towards them on a warlike errand bent;720A knight of a haughty bearing, and his harness was fair to see,From his foot to the goodly helmet, and royal its cost must be,And richly plumed was the helmet; and, e'en as the man, the steedWas clad in such glittering armour as serveth for knightly need.And he found them, both man and maiden, heavy and sad at heart,725As he rode nigh unto the circle; hear ye how he bare his part—Tho' his mien it was high and haughty, yet his heart it was full of woe,Of the twain shall ye learn the reason; thro' his manhood he pride must know,Yet grief to his heart taught mourning—Thus rode he unto the ring,Were it well he should come within it? Then squires to his aid did spring,730And the gallant knight they greeted, yet were he and his shield unknown,Nor he doffed from his head the helmet, and sorrow was his alone;And his hand bare a sword unsheathèd, and he asked for those heroes twain,'Where are they whom I fain would speak with, King Arthur and Knight Gawain?'
Then straight thro' the ring he passed him, and a costly coat he bare,735And 'twas wrought of silk all shining, in Orient woven fair;And before the host he halted as he sate there within the ring,And he spake aloud, 'God's favour be on thee, thou gracious king,And upon these knights and ladies—To all whom mine eyes here see,I offer, in greeting, service, yet beonefrom my greeting free;740For ne'er will I do him service, nay, rather I choose his hate,If ill-will he beareth to me, mine ill-will with his may mate!'
'And 'twere well that I name him to ye. Alas! alas! woe is me!My heart he so sore hath wounded, mine anguish o'er-great shall be!And here doth he sit, Sir Gawain, whom all men were wont to praise,745High standeth his fame, yet dishonour it ruleth, methinks, his ways;Since avarice to this betrayed him, in greeting my lord he slew,The kiss once by Judas given, it taught him such guile anew.Many thousand hearts hath he wounded—'Twas murder base, abhorred,And he, upon whom he wrought it, erewhile was my dearest lord.750An Sir Gawain would here deny it, true answer our strife shall yield,Forty days from to-day shall he meet me, and face me on battlefield,Before Askalon's king and ruler, in the city of Schamfanzon;Thus I bid him in honour face me, and for conflict his armour don.'
'And this grace shall he not refuse me, but thither his shield shall bear;755And yet further shall he bethink him, by the helmet he weareth fair,And the life that a knight beseemeth, who two treasures in pledge doth hold,True shame, and a faith unwavering, and their fame shall be new, as old.But from shame may Gawain ne'er free him, if a knight of the Table Round,Whose heroes stand here before me, he thinketh he may be found.760For its honour and fame are vanished, if false knight sit its board beside—Methinks ye have heard mine errand, and ye know I came not to chide,For here would I not blame, but battle, and death shall my guerdon be,An it be not a life of honour, that Good Fortune shall hold for me!'
Then sad was the king and silent, yet answer at last he gave,765'Know, Sir Knight, that Gawain is my nephew, and myself would the conflict braveEre his bones should lie dishonoured—If Good Fortune by Gawain standIn strife shalt thou well acknowledge, 'neath the might of his strong right handThat his body in faith he keepeth, and falsehood afar doth hold.If another hath done thee evil methinks art thou over-bold,770His shame dost thou speak too loudly, who never hath done thee ill—If he winneth, perchance, thine homage, and thou ownest him guiltless still,Yet hast thou in short space spoken such words of a blameless knightAs have shamèd for aye thine honour, if this folk read the thing aright!'
Then upsprang the proud Knight Beaucorps, brother to Gawain he,775And he spake in his wrath, 'Wouldst thou fight him? Then myself his pledge will be,For thou speakest false of Gawain; and know that thy words of shameHave kindled anew within me fierce wrath's devouring flame.An thou speakest not Gawain guiltless of all dishonour, IStand here to fight his battle, and to be his surety.780Think not by thy words of scorning to lower his lofty fame,Unstainèd is Gawain's honour, and thy words are but words of shame!'
Then he turned him to his brother, and he spake of true heart and free,'Bethink thee now, my brother, of all thou hast done for me,Thou hast helped me unto the winning of fame, for thy toil's reward785Bid me here to be hostage for thee, and bid me thine honour guard.If Good Fortune be here my portion, and I win here my meed of fame,Thenthinebe the crown of honour, and thy foeman hath naught but shame.'By his knighthood and love as a brother he besought him right earnestly;Quoth Gawain, 'Now in sooth, my brother, too wise shall I surely be790To hearken to thee, and to grant thee what thou askest of right good-will;What meaneth this strife, I wot not, and of fighting have had my fill,Of good-will would I ne'er deny thee what boon thou from me shouldst crave,Yet shame must I bear for ever if this conflict I fail to brave!'
Yet Beaucorps he prayed him straitly—then out spake the stranger knight,795'A man whom I ne'er have heard of now lusteth with me to fight!I spake not ofhim, and no evil, methinks, hath he done to me.Strong, gallant, and fair to look on, and faithful and rich is he,And well might he be my hostage, yet againsthimno wrath I bear—My lord and my kinsman was he for whose death I this strife declare,800And brothers twain were our fathers, as comrades and kinsmen true;And were he a crownèd monarch against whom my sword I drew,By my birth might I give him battle, and vengeance of right demand,Of a royal race, and a princely, was I born in a distant land.And Askalon is my country, I am Landgrave of Schamfanzon,805Kingrimursel do they call me; if Gawain's fame be not outrunNo otherwise may he free him, but conflict with me must dare.Yet safe-conduct throughout my kingdom, from all save my hand, I swear,In peace may he ride, and safety, to the field where I vengeance claim;God keep in His grace those I leave here, save one, and ye knowhisname!'810
So passed he, the gallant hero, from the plain of Plimizöl,And e'en as his name was namèd, all men knew Kingrimursel,For the fame of this knight so valiant was known thro' the far lands wide,And it seemèd them well that to Gawain might ill thro' this strife betideWhen they thought of the strength and the manhood of this knight who rode swift away.815And many must sorely vex them that no honour he won that day;Yet full often a message cometh, I myself shall such venture know,Of such wise, that the guest who bears it, of his host must ungreeted go!
From Kondrie they heard the tidings of Parzival's name and kin,How a queen, she had been his mother, and his sire was an Angevin.820And they spake—''Twas at fair Kanvoleis, and the story we know full well,He served her with deeds of knighthood, and many a joust befell,And there by his dauntless manhood he won him that lady bright;And the noble Queen Anflisé, she taught him, that gallant knight,Such courtesy as befitted a hero of lineage high;825And no Breton but shall rejoice him, that his son now draweth nigh,For of him, e'en as of his father, may this tale of a truth be toldThat honour is his yoke-fellow, as she was of his sire of old.'
Thus joy alike and sorrow came to Arthur's host that day,And mingled, the life of the heroes, since the twain they must have their way.830Upstood they all as one man, and all with one voice they wept,And the bravest knights among them within the circle stept,And they looked on Gawain and the Waleis where each by the other stood,And they wove them fair words of comfort to pleasure the heroes good.
But Klamidé the king bethought him that the loss which should be his share835Was greater than that of another, and too sharp was his pain to bear,And to Parzival he quoth thus, 'If the Grail thee for lord must own,Yet still would I mourn my sorrow, and of true heart my woe make known.For the kingdom of Tribalibot, and Kaucasus' golden strand,Whatsoe'er shall be writ of riches in Christian or paynim land,840Yea, even the Grail and its glory, they had failèd the hurt to cureWhich at Pelrapär was my portion, or the grief that I here endure!Ah me! Of all men most wretched am I since thy valiant handOf joy and of blessing robbed me!—See the princess of fair Lalande,Know thou that this noble lady she keepeth such faith with thee,845That no service else she craveth, and none other knight will she;Yet well might she crown his service who served her for love alone!And that I am so long her captive, methinks may she well bemoan.If my joy thou to life wouldst quicken, then give me thine aid, I pray,And teach her herself to honour in such wise that her love repay850In a measure the ill thou didst me, and that which thro' thee I lost,When the goal of my joy fled from me and my pathway by thee was crossed,But for thee, I, methinks, had reached it, and if thou art foeman trueThou wilt help me with this fair maiden, and my gladness shall wax anew!'
'Right gladly will I,' quoth the Waleis, 'if so be she will grant my prayer,855For fain would I bring thee comfort, sincemineis that maiden fairFor whose sake thou sore didst sorrow, my wife and my queen is she,Kondwiramur, the fairest of all women on earth that be!'Then the heathen Queen of Ianfus, King Arthur, and Guinevere,Kunnewaaré of Lalande, and Jeschuté of Karnant, who these words must hear,860Came near with sweet words of comfort—what would ye they should do more?Kunnewaaré they gave to Klamidé, who yearned for her love so sore,And he gave her, as her rewarding, himself, his body fair,And a queenly crown and golden henceforth on her head she bare!
Quoth the heathen unto the Waleis, 'Kondrie a man hath named,865Whom thou as in truth thy brother, rejoicing, might well have claimed;For far and wide he ruleth in the power of a double crown,And alike by land and water men in fear to his hand bow down.And Assagog is one kingdom, Zassamank shall the other be,Two mighty lands and powerful from fear and from weakness free.870And naught shall be like his riches save those the Baruch doth own,Or those of far Tribalibot, he is worshipped as God alone!A marvel his skin to look on, and like unto none his face,For 'tis black, and 'tis white, as his parents, who sprang of a diverse race.Thro' one of his lands I journeyed as hither I took my way,875And full fain had he been my wanderings in a far-off land to stay.Yet but little his will prevailèd, tho' I am his near of kin,The cousin unto his mother, andheis a mighty king!Yet hear thou more of his prowess; his saddle no man may keepWho rideth a joust against him, and fame doth he richly reap.880And no gentler knight or truer e'er lay on a mother's breast,And falsehood it fleeth from him, and truth in his heart doth rest.Yea, true and fair in his dealings is Feirefis Angevin,And women he serveth duly, tho' he pain thro' his service win!'
'Tho' all men to me were strangers, yet hither I came to know885What ventures of gallant knighthood a Christian land might show;And of all Heaven's gifts the highest, I ween, shall thy portion be,And Christendom winneth honour thro' the praise it doth give to thee.And thine is a noble bearing, and fair is thy form and face,And in thee beauty mates with manhood, and strength doth thy youth embrace!'890(Both rich and wise was the heathen, and of wisdom she token gave,In the French tongue her speech was holden.) Then out spake the hero brave,And he quoth, 'God reward thee, Lady, who thinkest to comfort me,Yet sorrow it fast doth bind me, and the cause would I tell to thee,For the shame that has here befallen think not I shall lightly bear,895And here many sin against me, who give to my plaint no ear,The while I must list their mocking!—No joy shall my portion beOr long or short be my wanderings, till the Grail once again I see!For my soul's unrest constrains me, and it driveth me on my way,Nor so long as my life endureth shall my feet from their wanderings stay!'900