“Whence come you? Many a man has found death in this wood. Flee, as you love your life; but, say, where did you spend the night?”
“In a castle not a league from here.”
“Do not deceive. You carry stranger shield. There is no house in thirty leagues, save one castle high and great. Those who seek it, find it not. It is only found unsought. Munsalvaesch its name. The ancient Titurel bequeathed it to his son Frimutel, a hero; but in the jousts he won his death from love. Of his children, one is a hermit, Trevrizent; another, Anfortas, is the castle’s lord, and can neither ride nor walk, nor sit nor lie. But, sir, if you were there, may be that he is healed of his long pain.”
“Many marvels saw I there,” he answered.
She recognized the voice: “You are Parzival. Say, then, saw you the Grail and the joyless lord? If his pain is stilled through you, then hail! far as the wind blows spreads your glory, your dominion too.”
“How did you know me?” said Parzival.
“I am the maid who once before told you her grief, your kinswoman, who mourns her lover slain.”
“Alas! where are thy red lips? Art thou Sigune who told me who I was? Where is fled thy long brown hair, thy loveliness and colour?”
Sigune spoke: “My only consolation were to hear that you have helped the helpless man whose sword you bear. Know you its gifts? The first stroke it strikes well, at the second, breaks; a word is needed that the sword may make its bearer peerless. Do you know this word? If so, none can withstand you—have you asked the question?”
“I asked nothing.”