ARGUMENT
Book xiv. tells how Parzival and Gawain met and, unknowing, fought with each other, how Gawain was defeated, and of Parzival's grief when he learnt with whom he had fought.
How the combat between Gawain and Gramoflanz was deferred till the morrow; and how Parzival was welcomed at the court of King Arthur, and admitted to the Brotherhood of the Round Table.
How Parzival, in Gawain's stead, fought with and overcame King Gramoflanz, and how the latter sent messengers to King Arthur to pray that none but Gawain should fight against him. Of the grief of Itonjé when she learnt how her brother would fight with King Gramoflanz, and how she prayed the aid of King Arthur.
How Arthur and Brandelidelein made peace between the Duchess and Gawain, and of the wedding feast that was held in the camp. Of Parzival's sorrow and longing for his wife, and how ere the dawn of day he stole in secret from the court.
BOOK XIV
GRAMOFLANZ
If now the gallant Gawain a knightly joust would ride,
Tho' never I feared for his honour yet I fear what may now betide.
And tho' dear be the other's safety yet never a doubt I know,
For he who in strife would face him an army had found for foe.
O'er far seas, in the land of paynim, his helmet was fashioned fair, 5
And ruby-red was his harness, and the trappings his charger bare.
So rode he in search of adventure, and his shield it was piercèd thro'—
He had plucked for his helm a garland, and the tree where the garland grew
Was the tree that Gramoflanz guarded; and Gawain knew the wreath again,
And he thought, did the king here wait him it were counted to him for shame, 10
If hither for strife he had ridden then strife there perforce must be,
Tho' alone were the twain, and no lady the fate of their jousting see.
From Monsalväsch they came, the chargers, which each of the knights bestrode,
And they spurred them alike to a gallop, and each 'gainst the other rode,
On the dewy grass of the meadow, not the sand of the Tourney ring, 15
Should the joust this morn be ridden; and I ween, as their deeds I sing,
I had mourned for the harm of either—'Twas a fair joust they rode that morn,
Of a race that fought fair and knightly was each gallant hero born;
And little had been his winning, great his loss, who there won the prize,
And ne'er had he ceased to mourn it, if he were in his calling wise. 20
For faith had they pledged to each other, nor of old time, nor yet to-day,
Had their love and their truth been wounded—Now hear how they fought the fray:
Swiftly they rode, yet in such wise that each knight must mourn his fate—
For kinsman and knightly brethren, in strength of foeman's hate,
In strife had come together; and he who this joust should win 25
His joy were the pledge of sorrow, and his deed must he count for sin—
And each right hand it smote so surely that the comrades and foemen twain,
With horse and with goodly harness, fell prone on the grassy plain.
And then in such wise they bear them, with their swords such blows they smite,
That their shields are hewn and riven, and cloven in deadly fight. 30
And the splinters of shields, and the grass blades, were mingled upon the ground,
And far other the look of the meadow ere their strife had its ending found;
And too long must they wait for a daysman—'twas early when first they fought,
And the hours sped by, and no man an end to their conflict brought,
And no man was there beside them—Will ye hear how, the self-same day, 35
King Arthur's knights to the army of King Gramoflanz made their way?
On a plain by the sea he camped him—On the one side of the ground
Flowed the Sabbins, and over against it the Poinzacleins its ending found.
And the plain it was strongly guarded; Rosche Sabbins the citadel,
With towers and with walls deep-moated, defended the fourth side well. 40
And the host on the plain lay stretching its length for a mile and more,
And half a mile broad had they deemed it—As the messengers toward it bore,
Many unknown knights rode forward, archers, squires, with arms and spear,
And behind them, with waving banners, did the mighty host draw near.
With ringing blasts of trumpet would the army leave the plain, 45
That very morn to Ioflanz marched the monarch and all his train.
And clear rung the ladies' bridles as they circled around the king—
And, if I may tell the story, the tidings I fain would bring
Of those who had ridden hither, and camped on the sward so green,
For Gramoflanz bade them hither, and his combat they fain had seen. 50
If ye shall not before have heard it then here would I make it known,
From Punt, the water-locked city, to his nephew's aid had flown
Brandelidelein, and with him were six hundred ladies fair,
By the side of each lovely lady her knight must his armour wear;
For knighthood and love would he serve her—Of Punturtois, the gallant knights 55
Were fain for this stately journey, in sooth 'twas a noble sight.
And there rode, an ye will believe me, Count Bernard of Riviers,
Rich Narant had been his father, and left Uckerland to his heir.
And in many a ship o'er the water had he brought so fair a host
Of ladies, that none gainsaid him who would make of their beauty boast. 60
Two hundred of them were maidens, and two hundred already wed—
And if I have rightly counted 'neath his banner Count Bernard led
Five hundred knights well proven, who with him had sailed the sea,
And each well might face a foeman, and each should a hero be.
Thus King Gramoflanz would wreak vengeance in strife for the broken tree, 65
For he deemed he should be the victor, and the folk should his prowess see.
And the princes from out his kingdom, with many a valiant knight,
And many a lovely lady, had come to behold the fight;
And a goodly folk were gathered—Now Arthur's men drew near,
And they looked upon the monarch, how they found him ye now shall hear. 70
Of Palmât was the high seat 'neath him, and with silk was the couch spread o'er,
And maidens, so fair and graceful, they knelt low the king before,
And with iron hose they shod him; and high o'er the monarch's head,
A silk, Ecidemon-woven, both broad and long, was spread,
On twelve spear-shafts tall was it lifted, from the sunlight to be a shade— 75
Then came the men of King Arthur, and this was the word they said:
'Sire, King Arthur hath hither sent us, and ever hath he been known
As one whom all men have honoured, and whom all shall as victor own.
Yea, honour enow is his portion—And yet wouldst thou mar his fame,
Since upon the son of his sister thou thinkest to bring this shame! 80
And e'en had Sir Gawain wrought thee worse ill by far, I ween,
That the fame of the great Round Table might here for a shield have been.
For brotherhood all have sworn him who sit at that noble board,
And stainless shall be their knighthood who own Arthur for king and lord!
Quoth the king, 'The strife I sware him e'en to-day my hand shall dare, 85
And Gawain to-day shall face me, if well or if ill he fare.
For this hath been truly told me, that King Arthur draweth near
With his queen, and his host of warriors; I bid them welcome here!
Tho' it may be the angry Duchess shall counsel him to mine ill,
Yet hearken and heed, ye children, the strife shall be foughten still. 90
For here have I many a follower, and hindered of none will be,
What one man can do unto me that bear I right joyfully!
And if now I should fear to face that to which I my pledge have sworn,
Of Love's service and Love's rewarding henceforward were I forlorn!
In her favour I found aforetime my life and my life's best bliss— 95
God knoweth how he hath pleased her, she oweth me much for this!—
And tho' ever I did disdain me to fight with one man alone,
Yet Gawain hath so bravely borne him that him as I my peer I'll own.
And I think me I shame my manhood when such easy strife I fight;
And yet have I fought, believe me, (ye can ask if it seem ye right,) 100
With folk whom mine hand hath proven to be valiant men and true,
But ne'er have I fought but one man! No praise shall be here my due,
From the lips of gracious women, tho' the victory be mine to-day—
And greatly my heart rejoiceth that her bands have been reft away
For whose sake I fight this conflict; so many a distant land 105
Are vassals unto King Arthur, and pay tribute unto his hand,
It may well be with him she cometh, for whose sake both joy and pain
Unto death I would gladly suffer, if she be for my service fain.
And what better fate can befall me than that this my fair lot shall be,
That she looketh upon my service, and her eyes shall my victory see!' 110
And near to the king sat Bené, nor her heart for the strife did fail,
For full oft had she seen his valour, and she deemed he might well prevail.
But yet had she known that Gawain was brother unto the maid,
And 'twas he who now stood in peril, of a sooth had she been dismayed.
A golden ring from Itonjé she brought him for token fair, 115
'Twas the same as her gallant brother did over the Sabbins bear
O'er the Poinzacleins came Bené in a boat, and this word she spake,
'From Château Merveil doth my lady, with the others, her journey take.'
And she spake from the lips of Itonjé such steadfast words and true,
That more, from the lips of a maiden, I ween never monarch knew. 120
And she prayed him to think of her sorrow, since all gain did she hold as naught
For the gain of his love, and his service was all that her true heart sought.
And glad was the king at the tidings, yet would fight with her brother still—
'Twere better I had no sister, such rewarding would please me ill!
Then they bare unto him his harness, 'twas costly beyond compare— 125
No hero, by love constrainèd, who fought for love's guerdon fair,
Were he Gamuret, or Galoes, or Killicrates, the valiant king,
Had better decked his body the love of a maid to win—
And no richer silk had been woven in Ipopotiticon,
Or brought from Kalomedenté, or the city of Akraton, 130
Or from far-off Agatyrsjenté, than the silk for his garment wove—
Then he kissed the small ring golden, the pledge of Itonjé's love,
For he knew her for true and faithful, and tho' peril upon him pressed,
Yet the thought of her love and her longing would guard, as a shield, his breast.
All armed was now the monarch; twelve maidens on palfreys fair, 135
Each one a spear-shaft holding, the awning aloft would bear.
And the king, he rode beneath it, and its shadow was o'er his head,
As on to the strife he craved for the gallant hero sped.
And on either side of the monarch there rode fair maidens twain,
Tall and stately were they to look on, the noblest of all his train. 140
The messengers of King Arthur no longer they made delay,
And, behold! they met with Gawain as they rode on their homeward way,
And ne'er had they felt such sorrow, their voices they raised on high,
And they cried aloud for his peril, and their love and their loyalty.
For the strife had near found its ending, and victor was Gawain's foe, 145
For his strength, it was more than Gawain's, and well-nigh had he laid him low,
When the pages who rode towards them called loudly on Gawain's name,
For well did they know the hero, and it grieved them to see his shame.
Then he, who erewhile would fight him, of conflict would have no more,
But he cast from his hand his weapon, and he cried, as he wept full sore, 150
'Accursèd am I, and dishonoured, and all blessing from me hath flown,
Since my luckless hand, unwitting, so sinful a strife hath known.
Methinks it is too unseemly! yea, guilty am I alway,
And born 'neath a star of Ill Fortune, and forced from all bliss to stray.
And the arms that to-day I carry are the same that of old I bore, 155
For they are of Ill-luck the token, e'en to-day as they were of yore.
Alas! that with gallant Gawain I have foughten so fierce a fight,
'Tis myself whom I here have vanquished, and my joy shall have taken flight.
With the first blow I struck against him misfortune hath reached my side,
And peace shall have sped far from me, and her face from my face doth hide!' 160
And Gawain heard, and saw his sorrow, and he spake out right wonderingly,
'Alas, Sir Knight, who art thou, who speakest thus well of me?
If I might such words have hearkened the while I had strength and power,
Then my honour had ne'er been forfeit, for the victory is thine this hour!
And fain would I know how men call him with whom I shall find my fame, 165
Since hereafter I needs must seek it, so tell me, I pray, thy name—
For ever was I the victor when I fought with one man alone.'
'Yea, gladly my name I'll tell thee who aforetime my face hast known,
And true service I fain would do thee wherever such chance befall,
For thy kinsman am I, and cousin, and men call me Parzival!' 170
Then out quoth Gawain, 'So, 'tis fitting, here Folly her goal hath found,
And her ways full straight hath she wroughten which aforetime but crooked wound.
Here have two hearts, leal and faithful, their hate 'gainst each other shown,
And thy hand which hath won the victory hath the twain of us overthrown.
And for both of us shalt thou sorrow, for thyself by thyself laid low, 175
And the thought it shall surely grieve thee if thy true heart true faith doth know!'
Then, e'en as the words were spoken, no longer the knight Gawain
Might stand for very weakness, for the blows they had dulled his brain,
And his footsteps they failed and faltered, and prone on the grass he lay—
Then down sprang the squire of King Arthur, and aid did he bring straightway, 180
For he lifted his head, and from off it he loosened the helmet's band,
With his head-gear of peacock's feathers the face of Gawain he fanned
Till his care new strength had brought him—Now on to the field did ride,
From the armies twain, much people, they flocked hither from either side.
And each one would seek his station, for here should the fight be fought, 185
And the lists, they were set with tree-trunks, each smooth as a mirror wrought.
Gramoflanz the cost had given, since from him had the challenge come,
A hundred in all the tree-trunks, and brightly they shone each one.
And no man should come within them, and the place between was wide,
Full forty lengths from each other stood the fifty on either side, 190
Each blazoned with many colours; and here should the combat be;
And on either side the army from the strife should hold them free.
As by moat and rampart sundered, so should they in peace remain,
In this wise they sware, the foemen, King Gramoflanz and Gawain.
To this combat, by none awaited, came the folk from either side, 195
At the self-same hour, fain were they to know what should there betide,
For they marvelled much who had fought here, and had shown such knightly skill;
Or who should such strife have challenged, for alone was it foughten still,
And neither side their comrades had bidden unto the ring,
But alone had each knight come hither, and men deemed it a wondrous thing. 200
But now as the fight was foughten on the flower-besprinkled plain,
Came King Gramoflanz, to wreak vengeance for the garland upon Gawain;
And he heard what thing had chanced there, that so fierce the fight had been
That never a fiercer conflict with sword might a man have seen,
And the twain who fought together had never a cause to fight— 205
Then the king, from out his army, rode straight to the gallant knights;
And he found them battle-weary, and much he mourned their pain;
Tho' scarcely his strength might bear him, up-sprang the knight Gawain,
And the twain they stood together—Now Bené rode with the king,
And with him, as the strife was ended, she came to the battle-ring, 210
And she saw Gawain all powerless, whom, for honour and fair renown,
O'er all the world had she chosen to crown with joy's fairest crown.
With a cry of heartfelt sorrow from her palfrey the maiden sprung,
And she spake, as her arms around him in a close embrace she flung,
'Accurst be the hand that such sorrow on so fair a form hath brought, 215
For in sooth all manly beauty its mirror in thee hath sought!'
On the sward did she bid him seat him, and, the while that she wept full sore,
With tender hand from his eyelids she wiped the sweat and gore;
And heavy and hot his harness—Then Gramoflanz quoth again,
'In sooth must I grieve for thy sorrow, since my hand wrought it not, Gawain; 220
If to-morrow again thou comest, and wilt meet me upon this field,
Then gladly will I await thee, and will face thee with spear and shield.
Now as lief would I fight with a woman as with thee, who art brought so low,
For how shall I win me honour if strength shall have failed my foe?
Go, rest thee to-day, for 'tis needful, and then wouldst thou take the place 225
Of thy father, King Lot, I am ready to meet thee here, face to face.'
But Parzival stood unwearied, nor as yet a sign he bare
Of pallor, nor strength had failed him, and he faced the monarch fair,
And he loosed from his head the helmet, that the king his face might see,
And he spake, 'Sir, if this my cousin in aught shall have wrongèd thee 230
Then take me as his pledge, unwearied, as thou seest, is yet mine hand,
And the wrath thou dost bear against him I may well with my sword withstand.'
Then spake the King of Rosche Sabbins, 'Sir Knight, at the morrow's morn
For my garland he payeth tribute, and its fame shall anew be born,
Or to such a pass shall he bring me that shame shall my portion be— 235
Thou mayst otherwise be a hero, but this conflict is not for thee!'
In wrath spake the lips of Bené, 'Fie on thee! thou faithless hound,
Thro' him whom thy false heart hateth thine heart hath its freedom found.
She to whom thou wouldst do love-service, she liveth at his command,
Thyself hast renounced the victory which else might have crowned thine hand. 240
Thou hast no claim on Love's rewarding, and if ever within thine heart
Love had for awhile her dwelling with falsehood she bare a part!'
As thus she waxed full wrathful, Gramoflanz led the maid aside,
And quoth,'Now, Lady, grieve not, this strife must needs betide.
But stay thou here with thy master, and say to his sister sweet 245
That I am in truth her servant, in all that a knight finds meet.'
But now as Bené hearkened, and knew of a truth Gawain
Was brother unto her lady, and must fight on the grassy plain,
Then drave griefs plough its furrows thro' her heart, both deep and sore,
And filled them with flood of sorrow, for truth in her heart she bore. 250
And she quoth, 'Ride hence, accursèd, thou false and faithless one,
For steadfast love and loyal thine heart hath never won!'
The king and his knights they rode hence, and the lads of Arthur's train
They took the heroes' chargers, weary with strife the twain.
Then Parzival, and Gawain, and Bené, that maiden bright, 255
They rode to the camp of King Arthur with many a gallant knight.
And Parzival in manhood had so borne the prize away
That all men were glad at his coming, and rejoiced in his fame that day.
And more, if I can, would I tell ye—the wise men of either host
Spake but of this man, of his valour in this wise they made their boast, 260
'Wot ye well who hath here been victor? 'Twas Parzival, he alone!'
And so fair was his face to look on none fairer was ever known.
So thought they who looked upon him, and they swear it, both man and maid—
So he came to the tent of Gawain; and little his host delayed,
But he bade them bring costly raiment, and rich as was his own gear, 265
And alike were they clad, the heroes, and all folk must the marvel hear
That Parzival came among them, of whose glory all men had heard,
And the fame of his deeds so knightly, and no mouth but spake this word.
Quoth Gawain, 'Art thou fain to look on four queens who are kin to thee,
And other fair ladies with them, then thy guide will I gladly be.' 270
Quoth Gamuret's son, 'If fair ladies be here thou shalt vex them not
With the sight of my face, for no kindness from woman shall be my lot
Since by Plimizöl's bank they hearkened to the shame that upon me fell:
May their honour of God be guarded, for ever I wish them well,
But my shame weigheth heavy on me, and it vexeth so sore my heart, 275
I were fain ne'er to look on woman, but live me a life apart'
'Yet so must it be,' quoth Gawain; then Parzival he led
To the four queens, who gave him greeting and kissed him with lips so red.
But sorely it vexed the Duchess, that she, too, must kiss this knight,
Who little had cared for her kisses, nor would for her favours fight— 280
Tho' her lands and her love she proffered when he before Logrois fought,
And she rode far to overtake him—thus shame in her anger wrought.
But the others they spake him gently, with never a thought of wrong,
Till shame from his heart was driven, and joy in its stead waxed strong.
Then Gawain of right and reason, if Bené his grace would hold, 285
Bade her seal her lips to silence, to her lady no word be told,
'That King Gramoflanz for his garland doth hatred toward me bear,
And at the set time to-morrow our strife must be foughten fair,
Speak no word of this to my sister, and do thou thy tears give o'er;'
And she spake, 'I do well to weep thus, and to mourn, and to sorrow sore, 290
For whoever shall fall in the combat my lady must sorrow know,
And however the battle goeth, the issue shall be for woe.
And well may we mourn the venture, my lady and I alike,
What boots it to be her brother, if thou at her heart wilt strike?'
Now the host to their tents betook them, and the mid-day meal was spread 295
For Gawain, and the knights and ladies who should break at his table bread,
And Parzival as companion should have the Duchess fair—
And Gawain, he besought his lady for the hero to have good care;
But she quoth, 'To my care dost thou give him, who can make of a woman sport?
How should I care for this man? Yet would I gainsay thee naught; 300
And if this be thy will, I will do it, tho' for payment I mocking know'—
Quoth Gamuret's son, 'Nay, Lady, thou doest me wrong I trow,
At least have I so much wisdom, if I know myself aright,
That women are free from my mocking, since ill 'twould beseem a knight!'
Whatever they set before them no lack had they there of meat, 305
And courteous was their service, and with joy all the folk did eat.
But Itonjé, she looked on Bené, and she read in her eyes the tale
Of the tears she had wept but lately, and for sorrow her cheeks grew pale,
And nothing she ate, for she thought still, 'Now wherefore doth Bené weep?
For I sent her but now to the monarch who my heart doth his captive keep, 310
And for whose sake I grieve me sorely—Have I done aught to vex my knight?
Doth he think to renounce my service and no more for my love to fight?
If, with steadfast heart and manly, he thinketh on me no more,
Poor maid, I must die of sorrow, and the love that to him I bore!'
The noontide hour was over ere the feast had ended here, 315
Then hither rode King Arthur, and his queen, fair Guinevere,
With a host of knights and ladies, to where, within their sight,
Mid the band of gracious maidens sat that true and valiant knight;
And to Parzival such greeting and such welcome fair they gave
That from many sweet lips sweet kisses he won, that hero brave! 320
And Arthur would do him honour, and with many a gracious word
He thanked him for the valour that had spread his name abroad,
And the fame that had waxed so goodly, and that stood so high and fair,
That of right o'er all men living the crown of worth he bare.
Quoth the Waleis unto King Arthur, 'Yet Sire, when I saw thee last 325
My honour so sore was wounded that it well-nigh to earth was cast;
And in knighthood I paid such forfeit that of knighthood was I forlorn—
But now have I hearkened to thee, and if thou be not forsworn
Then honour still dwelleth with me, tho' my heart it misgives me sore!
I would trust in thy word right gladly—But what of these knights who swore 330
True friendship and brotherhood with me, and from whom I must part in shame?'
Then all with one voice they spake there—He had won for himself such fame
And had wrought such brave deeds of knighthood in many a distant land,
That his fame o'er the fame of all others did high and unspotted stand.
Then the knights of the Duchess' army they came where by Arthur's side 335
Sat Parzival, fair to look on, 'mid the knightly circle wide.
And the king in the tent received them, but so courtly was he and wise,
That, tho' wide was the tent of Gawain, he thought best that in all men's eyes
He should sit without on the meadow, and the knights they should sit around,
And strangers they were to each other who place in the circle found. 340
Would ye know who was this and that one? The tale it were all too long
If Christian I named and paynim—Who were Klingsor's warriors strong;
Who were they who so well were armèd, and showed them such men of might
When they rode from the city of Logrois, and would for their Duchess fight;
Who had followed King Arthur hither—If each one, his land and kin, 345
I named in their rightful order 'twere ill to the end to win!
But all men they spake together, there was none there like Parzival,
For his face and his form so lovely many women might love him well;
And nothing there failed unto him of aught that beseemed a knight
Who beareth the crown of honour, and fighteth a goodly fight. 350
Then Gamuret's son upstood there, and he spake, 'Ye who shall be here
Give counsel, and help me win that which my soul ever holdeth dear;
A strange and a hidden wonder it drave me from out your band—
Ye who brotherhood once have sworn me, and in friendship have clasped my hand,
Now help me, by this your knighthood, mine honour to win again!' 355
And gladly would Arthur grant him that for which his desire was fain.
Then aside with few folk he stepped him, and straitly he prayed this grace,
That the strife, at the hour appointed, he in Gawain's stead might face,
'Right gladly will I defy him, King Gramoflanz, in his pride;
I brake from his tree this morning a bough ere I thence did ride, 360
And for that he of need must fight me—For conflict I sought his land,
And for nothing else came I hither but to fight with his strong right hand.
I thought not I here should find thee, my cousin, it grieves me sore,
For this king did I surely take thee, who never from strife forbore.
Now let me, I prithee, fight him; if ever he know defeat 365
My hand shall such lesson teach him as he findeth not over sweet!
They have given me back mine honour, and thy brother knight am I,
And thy kinsman true, fair cousin, so grant to me, cousinly,
That this combat be mine—I swear thee for us twain will I face the foe,
And there do such deeds of valour that all men shall my manhood know!' 370
Quoth Gawain, 'In the court of King Arthur have I many a brother dear,
And kinsman true, yet to no man may I grant what thou prayest here.
My cause is so good, I think me, that Fate so shall rule the fight
That I stand at the last the victor, tho' my foe be a man of might.
God reward thee that thou, of thy kindness, this conflict for me wouldst face, 375
But the day is not yet in its dawning when another may take my place!'
Now Arthur the prayer had hearkened, of their speech he an end would make,
Once more in the ring beside them his seat did the monarch take.
And the cup-bearers did not tarry, the noble youths they bare
Many golden cups so precious, and wroughten with jewels fair, 380
Nor one alone could fill them—and when their task was o'er
The folk uprose, and gat them each one to his rest once more.
And night-fall had come upon them—Naught did Parzival delay,
But he wrought in such wise that his harness might be ready ere break of day.
Were a strap or a fastening broken, of that did he have good care, 385
And he bade them look well unto it, that all should be fit and fair.
And a shield new and strong must they bring him, for his own, in many a fight,
With many a blow was cloven, and they brought him a shield of might;
And the serving-men who bare it, they knew not the knight, I trow,
And Frenchmen were some among them, as the venture doth bid ye know. 390
And the steed that erewhile to jousting the Knight of the Grail must bear,
Of that did a squire bethink him, and ne'er might it better fare.
But now 'twas the hour for slumber, and the night had o'ercome the day,
And Parzival slept, and before him all ready his armour lay.
And King Gramoflanz, he rued it that the day such chance had brought 395
That another man in his presence for the sake of his garland fought;
Nor his folk might still his longing for the strife that the morn should bring,
And the thought, that he had delayed him, full sorely it vexed the king.
What, then, should the hero do here? Since honour he sought and fame,
He scarce might await the dawning, and the strife that with daylight came, 400
But ere sunrise himself and his charger were clad all in harness rare—
Did women, with wealth o'erburdened, the cost of his decking share?
I wot that, without their aiding, it costly and fair should be,
For the sake of a maid did he deck him, in her service no laggard he!
So he rode hence to seek his foeman, and sorely it vexed the king 405
That the early light of the morning Sir Gawain had failed to bring.
Now, unknown unto all, in secret stole Parzival from the court,
And he stripped of its floating pennon a strong spear from Angram brought;
And fully armed was the hero, and lonely he took his way
Where the posts round the ring of battle shone fair in the dawning day. 410
And he saw the king await him, and ere ever a word they spake
Men say that they smote each other thro' the shield, and the spear-shafts brake;
And from either hand the splinters flew high in the summer air,
For skilled were they both in jousting, and their swords they right well might bear.
And the dew was brushed from the meadow, and the helmets felt many a blow 415
From the edge of the blades keen-tempered, no faltering might either know.
And the grass underfoot was trodden, and the dew-drops in many a place
Swept away, and I needs must mourn here the red blossoms' vanished grace.
Yet more do I mourn for the heroes, and their toil without thought of fear,
And who with unmixed rejoicing, the tale of their strife should hear 420
To whom they had ne'er done evil?—Then Gawain must himself prepare
For the toil and the stress of battle, and the peril he thought to dare.
And 'twas even the midst of the morning ere of all men the tale was told
From his tent was Parzival missing, and they sought for the hero bold.
Did he think to make peace? Nay, his bearing spake little, methinks, of peace, 425
For he fought as a man, and 'twas noontide ere ever the strife might cease.
A bishop sang Mass for Gawain, and the folk they stood thick around,
And many a knight and lady on horseback might there be found,
Without the tent of King Arthur, ere the Mass to an end they sing—
While the priest did his holy office, beside him there stood the king; 430
When he spake the Benediction, then Gawain armed himself for fight,
And greaves of iron, well wroughten, they did on his limbs of might.
Then uprose a voice of wailing from the women, and one and all
The host rode forth to the meadow; and lo! there did strife befall,
And they heard the clash of the sword-blades, and they saw the fire-sparks fly 435
From the helmets as there the foemen their blows with fierce strength did ply.
King Gramoflanz oft had boasted he would scorn with one man to fight,
He thought here that six were his foemen, and each one a valiant knight
Yet none but Parzival faced him, and he fought in such gallant wise,
That he taught to the king a lesson which men e'en to-day may prize; 440
That in his own praise his own lips should speak never more this tale,
He could fight and could conquer two men, since o'er one he might not prevail.
From left and from right came the armies, o'er the grassy plain so wide,
And, each one their station keeping, they halted on either side,
And they looked on the mighty combat, on one side the chargers stood, 445
And afoot on the ground they battled with sword-blades, the heroes good.
And sharp and sore was the conflict, and steadfast the twain did stand,
And their swords on high they tossed them, and oft did the blades change hands.
Now Gramoflanz reaped sore payment for the garland from off his tree,
To the kinsman of his fair lady should the strife none too easy be. 450
His kinship with fair Itonjé had stood Parzival in good stead,
If right might have claimed a hearing, yet was not his strife ill-sped.
And they who much fame had won them, again for fair fame would fight;
And one strove for the sake of his kinsman, and one for his lady bright,
For he did but Frau Minne's bidding, as was meet for her vassal true— 455
Now uprode the gallant Gawain, and e'en as he nearer drew
The conflict was nigh its ending, and the Waleis should victor be;
And, bareheaded, unto the battle, there hastened those heroes three,
Brandelidelein of Punturtois, and Count Bernard of Riviers,
And the third knight who rode beside them was Affinamus of Clitiers. 460
From the army over against them came King Arthur beside Gawain,
To the two knights, with battle wearied, they rode o'er the grassy plain;
And all the five they thought them 'twas time that the strife should end,
And Gramoflanz must confess here that no longer he might contend,
And his own mouth proclaimed him vanquished, and his foeman had won the day— 465
And the folk who had seen the combat might never his word gainsay!
Then out spake King Lot's son gaily, 'Sir King, I will speak to thee
To-day, as yestreen thou spakest when rest thou didst bid to me
"Go rest thee to-day, for 'tis needful," he who conflict did here demand,
He will own thou art all too feeble this day to resist mine hand. 470
Alone I might well have faced thee, but thou with but two wilt fight!
To-morrow I'll dare the venture, and may God show forth the right!'
Then the king he rode to his army, but first must he pledge his word
He would meet Gawain on the morrow, and face him with spear and sword.
To Parzival quoth King Arthur, 'Nephew, thou late didst pray, 475
Of thy manhood, to fight this combat for Gawain, and he said thee Nay,
And therein didst thou sore lament thee, and yet thou this fight hast fought
For him who did strait forbid thee! Of our will hast thou asked us naught.
From our court, as a thief, hast thou stolen, or else had we held thine hand
Afar from this strife, I wot well thou didst fight not at our command! 480
Yet Gawain, he shall not be wrathful, tho' great praise be for this thy meed.'—
Quoth Gawain, 'Nay, it nothing grieves me, my cousin's gallant deed,
To-morrow is all too early if this combat I needs must face,
An the king would withdraw his challenge I would count it to him for grace.'
To the camp rode the mighty army, there were many ladies fair, 485
And many a knight in armour, and costly the arms they bare.
And I ween that never an army was so richly decked before,
For the knights of the good Round Table, and the men of the Duchess wore
Fair surcoats richly blazoned, of silk from Zinidunt,
And bright was their outer garments, and brought from far Pelpiunt. 490
But the heroes in either army spake ever of Parzival,
And their lips, in such wise they praised him, that his friends it rejoiced them well.
And the men of Gramoflanz spake thus, that never the sun had shone
On a knight who fought so bravely, or such gallant deeds had done;
And whatever feats of knighthood had been wrought on either side, 495
Yet he, o'er all other heroes, the victor should still abide.
Yet they knew not of whom they spake thus, nay, neither his race or name,
Tho' the army it rang with his praises, and no mouth but declared his fame.
Then Gramoflanz did they counsel, King Arthur he well might pray
To take good heed to his army that no knight from his ranks should stray 500
For combat, as e'en that morning, but to send unto him one knight,
The son of King Lot, Sir Gawain, for with him had he come to fight.
And straightway he sent the message by two courtly lads and wise,
And he spake, 'Now look well for the maiden who is fairest in all men's eyes,
Look well by whom Bené sitteth; and so ye play well your part, 505
Ye shall see in what wise she bear her, if joyful, or sad at heart.
Ye shall prove these her ways in secret, in her eyes ye right well may see
If yet for a friend she mourneth; and this too your task shall be,
Ye shall give to my friend, fair Bené, this letter and golden ring,
She knoweth for whom is the token—Now see that ye do this thing!' 510
In the other camp, the meanwhile, did Itonjé the tidings hear
That her gallant brother, Gawain, and he whom her soul held dear,
The fairest knight that a maiden within her heart might hold,
Would fight, the one with the other, and their hand might no man withhold.
Then her maiden shame it yielded to the flood of her grief so sore, 515
And none shall rejoice at her sorrow, for the pain undeserved she bore.
Then her mother and Queen Arnivé they led the maid aside
To a tent so small and silken, and Arnivé her grief would chide,
And she bade her cease her weeping—There was naught that the maid might say,
But to speak aloud the secret she hid in her heart alway; 520
Then out quoth the royal maiden, 'Of my brother shall he be slain
Who is lord of my heart and my true love! Let his hand from such deed refrain!'
To a noble youth spake Arnivé, 'Now get thee unto my son,
And bid him come hither quickly, with him would I speak alone.'
Then the lad he brought King Arthur—Now this was Arnivé's mind, 525
If she told unto him the story perchance he might counsel find,
And by him should that strife be hindered, for which the maiden fair
So sorely wept, and such sorrow and anguish of heart must bear.
Now they came to the camp of King Arthur, who Gramoflanz' message bore,
By the silken tent they dismounted; there sat Bené before the door, 530
And within spake the maid to King Arthur, 'If my brother shall slay my king
To pleasure his faithless Duchess, doth he deem that shall honour bring?
He might know of himself it were ill-done—He hath wronged him no whit I ween,
That he doeth to me true service, his safety might well have been!
If my brother be yet in his senses he doth of our true love know, 535
How pure it is, and how faithful, and this venture should work him woe.
A bitter death shall it bring me, the hand that my love doth kill—
Sir King, thou shalt mourn my sorrow, and I think not that such thy will,'
Spake the fair maid unto King Arthur, 'Forget not that thou shalt be
Mine uncle, and stay this combat which worketh such ill to me!' 540
Quoth Arthur aloud in his wisdom, 'Alas, thou fair niece of mine,
That thus young thou canst love so dearly, for sorrow shall sure be thine,
As sorrow befell thy sister, Surdamur, for her love so true
To the Emperor of Greece—Sweet maiden, thy will might I surely do,
And hinder this strife, if I knew well that ye twain were but one in heart— 540
Yet King Irot's son, he is valiant, and courage in him hath part,
And this combat he'll fight, full surely, an Love stay not his hand so bold—
Did he ne'er, in a joyful moment, thy fair face and sweet lips behold?'
And she spake, 'Nay, we love, but neither as yet hath the other seen,
Tho' of true love many a token from his hand hath my portion been. 550
And tokens true have I sent him, that no doubt should betwixt us lie—
No falsehood my king's heart ruleth, but he loveth me steadfastly!'
Then the maiden Bené saw them, and knew them, the squires twain
Who came to the court of King Arthur from Gramoflanz' kingly train,
And she spake, 'Here should no man linger, will ye that I bid them go, 555
The folk, from our tent? It were ill-done, methinks, that all men should know
How sorely my lady sorroweth for the sake of her love so dear;
Methinks it might lightly happen that too many the tale should hear!'
Then forth from the tent went Bené, and in secret unto her care
The squire gave the folded letter, and the golden ring he bare, 560
And they, too, had heard the wailing of the maid, and they knew full well
Why she sorrowed, and this their errand they fain to the king would tell.
And they asked of the maiden Bené if she their friend would be?
And she spake, 'Stand without the circle till I bid ye to come to me!'
Then Bené, the gentle maiden, she told them within the tent 565
That without two squires were waiting, from Gramoflanz hither sent,
And fain would they speak with King Arthur—'But unfitting it seemeth me
That we call them unto our counsels, and that witnesses they should be.
On my lady must I avenge me, if thus they shall see her weep,
I bade them await my bidding, and without there their station keep!' 570
Quoth Arthur, 'Are they the pages whom I saw behind me ride?
Of noble birth shall the twain be, methinks, it might well betide
That so wise are they both and courteous they might give us counsel good,
Methinks of their king's love either would treat in a fitting mood?'
Quoth Bené, 'Nay, that I know not, but Sire, of thy grace, this ring 575
And the letter which now I bring thee, they bare hither from their king.
As but now I left the pavilion, of the pages, one gave it me.
Now see, Lady, do thou take it, for methinks it is meant for thee!'
Then Itonjé, she kissed the letter, and she held it unto her heart,
And she quoth, 'Now, Sire, thou canst see here if he would in my love have part.' 580
In his hand Arthur took the letter, and within he found written fair
The words of one who loveth, and his passion would fain declare.
For Gramoflanz' hand had written the words that his lips would say,
And Arthur, he saw by the letter that Love held o'er his heart such sway
That ne'er had he known aforetime one who loved with so true a love— 585
And the words that within were written Frau Minne might well approve.
'Now greeting to whom I owe greeting, whose greeting I fain would earn,
To thee, O thou gracious maiden, whose heart toward my heart doth turn!
Who with comfort would fain console me—Our love goeth hand-in-hand,
And the solace thy love would bring me doth high o'er all solace stand; 590
And my joy in thy love is rooted, and my faith is to thee held fast,
And sorrow and bitter anguish shall forth from my heart be cast.
And thou bringest me help and counsel, so that never an evil thought
Or a faithless deed, and shameful, shall against my fame be brought.
But I look on thy truth and thy beauty with ever a steadfast mind, 595
As the Pole-star doth in the north pole the goal of its gazing find,
And neither its post forsaketh; e'en so shall our true love be,
And waver not, one from the other—So think thou, sweet maid, on me,
How I mourned unto thee my sorrow, nor be weary of this my prayer—
And if one would part thee from me, for the hatred that he shall bear 600
Unto me, then shalt thou bethink thee how thy love shall reward us both,
And think thou of woman's honour, nor be of thy favours loth;
But still let me be thy servant, in thy service I fain would live,
And, in all that I may, true service I will to my lady give!'
Quoth Arthur, 'Fair niece, thou saidst truly, he greeteth thee without guile 605
Such tale doth this letter tell me that never, at any while,
Have I found of true love such marvel! His grief shalt thou put away,
As he too shall cure thy sorrow, so do thou thy weeping stay,
And trust unto me, this combat shall be hindered—Yet say thou here,
Thou wert captive, how hath it chanced then that ye hold each other dear? 610
Thou shalt give him thy fair love's payment, that he do thee service true.'—
Spake Itonjé, 'See, here she standeth who us twain together drew,
Our love, it had else been hidden—If thou will that I now may see
Him whom my heart desireth she will summon him unto me!'
Quoth Arthur, 'Now, show her to me; if I may, I this thing will guide 615
That your will shall be done, and hereafter ye twain shall in joy abide!'
Quoth Itonjé, ''Twas none but Bené; and two of his squires are here,
If thou wilt, do this thing, (for I think me my life shall to thee be dear,)
Thou shalt see that the king cometh hither, that he looketh upon my face
In whom all my joy is hidden, and my life shall be in his grace!' 620
Then Arthur, the wise and courteous, would speak with the squires without,
He greeted them as he saw them, and boldly the one spake out,
'Sire, King Gramoflanz, he prays thee, for thine honour as knight and king,
That the oath sworn 'twixt him and Gawain thou wilt to fulfilment bring.
And further, Sire, he prays thee that none other with him shall fight, 625
So great is thine host, must he face all, methinks it would scarce be right!
But Gawain shalt thou send against him, for he willeth no other foe,
And Gawain alone hath he challenged, as thyself thou shalt surely know!'
Quoth King Arthur unto the pages, 'I will free us from blame alway,
And sorely it grieved my nephew that he fought not the strife to-day. 630
And the knight who fought with your monarch, to victory was he born,
The son of Gamuret is he—Three armies are here this morn,
And from many a land came they hither, but never a man hath seen
In combat so brave a hero, and glorious his deeds have been.
He is Parzival, my kinsman, ye shall see him, the fair of face,— 635
For the faith and the need of Gawain will I do to the king this grace.'
Then King Arthur and maiden Bené, with the squires they rode here and there,
And in sooth those squires they looked on full many a lady fair,
And they saw on the jewelled helmets many proud crests and knightly wave,
And few for such sight shall vex them, for he who is rich as brave 640
Full many a friend he findeth! They 'lighted not from their steed,
And the bravest men of the armies that lay camped on the flowery mead
King Arthur would show unto them, they might gaze on them at their will,
Knights, ladies, and gentle maidens, of beauty they saw their fill!
In three portions it lay, the army, and two spaces there were between— 645
Then away from the camp rode King Arthur, far out on the plain so green,
And he quoth, 'Now sweet maiden Bené, her plaint didst thou hear alway,
Itonjé, the child of my sister, her weeping she will not stay.
These my comrades who ride beside me, if they will, they may well believe
Of her beauty their king hath robbed her, so sorely the maid doth grieve! 650
Now help me, ye twain, and thou, Bené, that the king he shall hither ride,
E'en to-day, tho' the strife to-morrow he may, if he will, abide.
I will bring Gawain to meet him on the plain, as he prayed but now—
If he cometh to-day to mine army 'gainst the morn is he armed I trow,
For Love such a shield shall give him that his foeman may ill withstand 655
The courage that Love doth kindle, and that nerveth anew the hand.
And his princes shall he bring with him, for here would I do as best
Doth lie in my power that the Duchess shall hearken to my behest,
And peace shall be sealed between them—Now strive ye, my comrades dear,
With skill for such happy ending, 'twill be to your honour here. 660
And further I make my mourning, wherein shall have been my sin
That I wrought 'gainst your king that he beareth, in such measure, against my kin,
Both love alike and hatred? Methinks, he doth hold us light!
Another king, mine equal, had thought more of this my right.
Doth he think to repay with hatred her brother, who loves him well? 665
If his heart such thought shall teach him, then he knoweth not true Love's spell!'
Quoth one of the squires to King Arthur, 'What my king did to thee of ill,
That, Sire, shall he do no longer, for courteous shall he be still.
But thou knowest well the old hatred, and 'twere better the king should stay
Within his camp, I think me, than ride to thine host to-day. 670
Of the same mind is still the Duchess, that she counteth him for her foe,
And maketh her plaint against him, as many a man doth know!'
'With but few folk shall he come hither,' quoth Arthur, 'the while I'll pray
Of that high and noble lady that her anger she put away.
And an escort good I'll send him, Beau-corps, my sister's son, 675
Shall meet him half-way, and his journey shall under my care be done.
Nor as shame shall he look upon it, for brave men and true I'll send'—
Then leave did they take of King Arthur, and their way to the camp they wend.
Alone did they leave the monarch, and Bené and the pages twain
Rode swiftly unto Rosche Sabbins, on the further side of the plain. 680
'Twas the fairest day of his life-time, so thought the joyful king,
When his squires and the maiden Bené such tidings to him might bring.
And e'en as he hearkened to them his heart spake, in sooth to-day
Good Fortune had thought upon him, and his sorrow was put away!
Then he spake, 'He would come, right gladly,' and he chose to him comrades three, 685
A prince of his land was each one who bare the king company.
Brandelidelein, his uncle, with his nephew was fain to ride,
Affinamus of Clitiers, and Count Bernard of Riviers rode beside.
And each man he chose another who should be for such journey meet,
And twelve in all might ye reckon who rode hence the king to greet. 690
And many a squire went with them, and many a footman strong,
Well armèd, as should befit them, did unto the train belong.
Would ye know how the knights had robed them? Of silk was their raiment bright,
And heavy with gold inwoven that shone in the morning light.
And the king, he went as to hawking, with his falconer by his side— 695
Now Arthur had well bethought him, and Beau-corps he bade to ride,
And half-way to meet the monarch as escort both fit and fair—
And over the stretch of the meadow, or a pool or a brook lay there,
Where'er one might find the water rode the king as on pastime bent,
Yet ever Love drew him onward, and on Love was his heart intent. 700
And Beau-corps, he rode towards him, and in such wise the king would greet
That I ween 'twas a joyful moment when the twain and their folk did meet.
And more than fifty pages with Beau-corps should ride that day,
And their faces were fair to look on, Dukes and Counts might they be alway,
And kings' sons, too, rode among them—And the greeting was good to see, 705
When from either side the children kissed each other, of true heart free.
And Beau-corps was fair to look on, and the king asked, who might he be?
And Bené, she straightway answered. 'The son of King Lot is he,
And Beau-corps the name men call him'—Then he thought, 'Of a sooth, my heart,
Thou hast found her! For she shall be like him who so knightly doth play his part, 710
For in truth shall she be his sister, she who sent me the headgear rare
That of erst was in Sinzester fashioned, and the hawk on mine hand I bear.
If she further will show me kindness then all earthly power and pride
Would I count as naught, might I win her, tho' the earth were twice as wide.
And surely she meaneth truly—For love of her came I here, 715
Hitherto hath she dealt so kindly that methinks I but little fear;
She will show unto me such favour that my courage shall wax full high!'
Then he clasped the hand of her brother that fair in his hand did lie.
In the meanwhile within his army King Arthur in such wise wrought
That the Duchess was fain to grant him the peace that his lips had sought. 720
For rich was her consolation for her love by King Gramoflanz slain,
For whose sake she had borne him hatred; and no more might her lips complain,
For her anger had sunk to slumber, and she wakened to life anew
'Neath Gawain's embrace so tender, and her wrath, it was smitten thro'.
Then Arthur, the king of the Bretons, took many a lady bright, 725
One hundred, both wife and maiden, who were lovely in all men's sight,
In a tent apart he set them—Nor might her lot fairer be,
Itonjé, who sat beside them, since her king there she thought to see.
And ever her heart was joyful, and yet in her soft eyes' glow
Ye might see that the gentle maiden thro' love must sore sorrow know. 730
And many a knight and hero sat there, yet among them all
No face was so fair to look on as the fair face of Parzival.
To the tent-door up rode the monarch, and Gramoflanz, he ware
For garment a robe of wonder, in Gampfassâsch wroughten fair.
'Twas a rick silk, all gold embroidered, and woven with golden thread, 735
And a shimmer of light from his vesture afar round the monarch spread.
Then they who had hither ridden adown from their steeds they spring,
And the squires, they press them forward to the tent before their king,
And the chamberlains vie with each other, and they make thro' the court a way
To the throne where the queen of the Bretons in her glory sat that day. 740
Brandelidelein, his uncle, before the monarch went,
And the twain, Guinevere she kissed them, and bade welcome within her tent.
And Count Bernard, and Affinamus a kiss from her lips must take—
Then to Gramoflanz Arthur turned him, and thus to the king he spake,
'Ere thou takest thy seat, bethink thee; if thou dost a maiden love, 745
And thou seest her here, thou mayst kiss her, nor will I such kiss reprove!'
It had told him which was his lady, the letter he read but now
In the open field, and that letter, 'twas her brother's face I trow!
The brother of her who from all men had hidden her love so true—
And Gramoflanz' eyes beheld her, and straightway his love he knew, 750
And his heart swelled high within him—Since Arthur had willed their bliss,
And had bid him in men's sight greet her, on her sweet lips the maid he kissed.
Brandelidelein, he sat him by the queen, fair Guinevere,
And King Gramoflanz, he was seated by the maid, who with many a tear
Had dimmed the glow of her beauty; 'twas for his sake she wept so sore, 755
Nor might he take vengeance on her, since guiltless this woe she bore.
But softly he spake unto her, and he vowed to her service true,
And she thanked him for this his coming, and their hearts toward each other flew,
And further no word they spake there, but they gazed in each other's eyes,
And their yea and their nay would I tell here, were I but in Love's language wise. 760
To Brandelidelein quoth Arthur, 'Methinks thou enow hast told
Thy tale in the ears of my lady!' Then he led forth the hero bold,
To a little tent he led him, apart on the grassy field;
Yet Gramoflanz came not with them, but, e'en as King Arthur willed,
He abode in the tent with his comrades, and so fair were the ladies bright, 765
That I deem well to look upon them but little would vex a knight
And fair was their joy and their pastime, 'twould please many a man, I trow,
Who to-day, after peril ended, would joy for his sorrow know.
Then wine to the queen and her ladies and to many a knight they bare,
And, methinks, an enow they tasted, their faces waxed fresh and fair. 770
To Brandelidelein and King Arthur the cup-bearers wine must bring;
As they passed from the tent in this wise quoth Arthur, the goodly king:
'Sir King, say, the conflict ended, if the strife in such wise have run
That the king, the son of thy sister, shall have slain my sister's son,
Yet would woo my niece, the maiden who maketh to him her moan 775
But now, as they sit together and their love for each other own;
If she do as shall best beseem her, she will favour him never more,
But will give him for payment hatred as shall vex the king full sore
If her love he yet desireth—for where love is o'ercome by hate
Then joy from true hearts is banished, and desire doth with sorrow mate!' 780
Then out spake the King of Punturtois to Arthur of Brittany,
'Sir King, they are sons to our sisters betwixt whom this hate shall be.
'Tis our part this strife to hinder, nor other shall be its end
Save that they twain shall love each other, and from foe shall be turned to friend.
'Twere best that thy niece, Itonjé, ere she yield to my nephew's prayer, 785
Shall say, if in truth he love her he shall from this strife forbear.
Thus an end shall be put to the combat, and the quarrel shall turn to peace—
And thou, thou shalt pray the Duchess that her wrath 'gainst my nephew cease!'
'Yea, that have I done,' quoth Arthur, 'my sister's son, Gawain,
He holdeth such power o'er the lady, that, as courtesy doth constrain, 790
For his sake and mine she forgiveth the ill that the king hath done—
Now do thou thy part with thy nephew, that peace on his side be won.'
Brandelidelein quoth straightway, 'I will do e'en as thou dost say'—
And back to the tent and the feasting the monarchs they took their way.
Then sat the King of Punturtois on one side of the gracious queen, 795
And Parzival sat on the other, and so fair was his face, I ween,
That never a man so goodly their eyes had beheld afore—
Then Arthur, the king, he rose up, and he gat him from out the door,
And he sought Gawain, his nephew; then he, who a while must hear
How his foemen had ridden hither, learnt that Arthur now drew anear, 800
And before his tent dismounted—Then swift did Sir Gawain spring,
And forth from the tent on the meadow he hastened to meet the king.
Then counsel they took together, and the Duchess, she peace would swear,
But not otherwise save that Gawain for her sake should this strife forbear.
Then should Gramoflanz be forgiven, if he, too, would forgive the ill 805
Once done by King Lot, her kinsman—so Arthur should speak her will.
Then Arthur the wise and courteous, he brought the tale again,
And King Gramoflanz, for his garland, henceforward must mourn in vain.
And his hatred to Lot of Norway it passed as the snow flakes melt
In the sun, 'neath the glance of Itonjé, and anger no more he felt. 810
And the while he sat beside her he said to her bidding, yea,—
Then they spake, Gawain came hither with his knights in brave array,
And their names I may not tell ye, nor the land in which each was born;
But here love had banished sorrow, and sadness was overworn.
Then the Duchess, Orgelusé, and her gallant men and true, 815
With part of the host of Klingsor, with Gawain nearer drew;
And the covering 'gainst wind and weather from the king's tent they took away,
And thither came good Arnivé with Sangivé and Kondrie alway,
They came at King Arthur's bidding where men words of peace would speak,
(He who counteth this but a small thing, at his will may a greater seek.) 820
Then Iofreit, Gawain's comrade, by her white hand, within the tent
Led the Duchess, fair and stately, and on this was she courteous bent,
That the three queens should go before her—Brandelidelein they kissed,
Then she followed, proud Orgelusé, nor the monarch her greeting missed.
Then Gramoflanz stepped towards her, atonement he fain would make, 825
From her sweet lips the kiss of forgiveness as token of peace he'ld take;
And the lady was moved to weeping, for she thought of her true love slain,
And the faith and the sorrow of women did her heart to such woe constrain.
Then Gramoflanz and Sir Gawain with a kiss put an end to strife;
And Arthur gave maid Itonjé to King Gramoflanz to wife, 830
For truly and long had he served her; and Bené was glad that day—
And another for love's sake sorrowed, and his sorrow was put away,
For Lischois, the Duke of Gowerzein, won fair Kondrie for his own,
And, I ween, were her love not his portion his life little joy had known.
To the Turkowit, brave Florant, as his wife King Arthur gave 835
Her who wedded King Lot aforetime, and her love a man well might crave;
'Twas a gift such as love beseemeth, and the knight took it joyfully—
For the king, he was aye free-handed, and he gave such gifts readily!
To this end had he well bethought him, and counsel wise had ta'en,
And soon as his speech was ended, the Duchess, she spake again, 840
And she said that her love Sir Gawain had conquered with valiant hand,
And henceforth he of right was master alike of her life and land.
And many a knight who hearkened he thought her speech ill to hear,
For they fought for her love, and had broken in her service full many a spear.
Gawain, and they who rode with him, Arnivé, and the Duchess fair, 845
And many a lovely lady prayed leave of the monarch there.
And Parzival, he went with them—Sangivé and maid Kondrie
They rode hence, but with King Arthur she abode still, fair Itonjé.
And the wedding feast that was holden was a feast beyond compare;
And Guinevere took Itonjé, and her true love, within her care, 850
The gallant king who with knighthood full many a prize had won,
And for love and desire of Itonjé full many brave deeds had done.
And many they sought their lodging who for love's sake must sorrow sore;
And how that night they had feasted, of that will we think no more—
But they who for love did service, who knew of true love the might, 855
They would that the day was ended, for fairer they deemed the night.
Then King Gramoflanz sent this message (he bethought him in his pride)
To his men, who, before Rosche-Sabbins, lay camped by the water-side.
They should spare nor pains nor labour, but their tents should they strike straightway,
And hither, with all his army, should they hasten ere break of day. 860
And his marshal here must seek him a fitting place and fair—
'Each prince by himself be encamped, and ye shall for myself prepare
Such goodly state and royal as well shall beseem a king,
Nor spare ye the cost'—'Twas nightfall ere this word to the host they bring.
And many a man must sorrow who had learnt from a woman woe,— 865
Whose love to the winds is scattered, and who ne'er doth rewarding know
For his service, to grief he speedeth, and naught shall his steps delay,
Save only the help of a woman o'ertaketh him on his way.
But Parzival, he bethought him of his wife so fair and sweet,
How pure she was, and how gentle—Did he ne'er another greet, 870
And offer for fair love service, and, wavering, love anew?
Nay, nay, he was far from such dealings, and naught of such love he knew!
For a mighty faith so guarded his body alike and heart
That never a woman living might have in his love a part,
Save only his queen and lady, Kondwiramur, the flower 875
Of women, Love's fairest blossom, with none should she share her power.
And he thought, 'Since to Love I wakened but ill hath Love dealt with me,
Of Love was I born, how comes it that I must from her presence flee?
Tho' my hand for the Grail be seeking yet desire it doth rend my heart,
And I yearn for her sweet embraces; ah, too long have we dwelt apart! 880
Shall I look with mine eyes on rejoicing while my heart seeth naught but woe?
The twain fit but ill together, and no man thereby shall know
High courage, a knight befitting—Now Good Fortune direct my way,
And show me what best beseemeth!' His harness before him lay,
And he thought, 'Since to me that lacketh with which others are richly blest,— 885
The love in whose sweet fulfilment many sad hearts have found their rest—
Since this sorrow must be my portion I care not what else my lot,
Little reck I what shall befall me, since my joy Heaven willeth not!
And thou, for whose love I am yearning, were it so both with me and thee,
That our hearts ever dreamed of parting, nor our love from all doubt were free, 890
It might well be that with another joy and blessing again were mine,
But thy love it so fast doth hold me, I may rest on no heart but thine!
And for aye am I Sorrow's captive! Now Good Fortune bring joy to all
Who find peace in fair Love's fulfilment, they are blessèd whate'er befall—
May God give to this folk rejoicing! But I from their joy must flee, 895
And wend lonely as of aforetime, since gladness is not for me!'
Then he stretched out his hand to his harness, and as oft was his wont of yore,
Unaided he girt it on him, and soon was he armed once more.
Now sorrow anew he seeketh—When he, who from joy would fly,
Had armed himself, his charger he saddled right speedily, 900
And his shield and spear were ready—O'er his loss did they wail next morn,
For no eye looked on his departing, he rode thence ere the day was born.