Why should long sorrow come to Parzival for not asking a question, when his omission was caused neither by brutality nor ill will? when, on the contrary, he would gladly have served his host? The relation between his conduct and his fortune seems lame. Yet in life as well as in literature, ignorance and error bring punishment. Moreover, to mediaeval romance not only is there a background of sorcery and magic, but active elements of magic survive in the tales.[725] And nothing is more fraught with magic import and result than question and answer. Wolfram did not treat as magical the effect upon his hero’s lot of his failure to ask the question; but he retained the palpably magic import of the act as affecting the sick Anfortas. It was hard that the omission should have brought Parzival to sorrow and despair; yet the fault was part of himself, and the man so ignorant and unwise was sure to incur calamity, and also gain sorrow’s lessons if he was capable of learning. So the sequence becomes ethical: from error, calamity; from calamity, grief; and from grief, wisdom. With Wolfram, Parzival’s fault was Parzival; failure to ask the question was a symbol of his lack of wisdom. The poet was of his time; and mediaeval thought tended to symbolism, and to move, as it were, from symbol to symbol, and from symbolical significance to related symbolical significance, and indeed often to treat a symbol as if it were the fact which was symbolized.
At this point Wolfram’s poem devotes some cantos to the lighter-hearted adventures of Gawain. This valiant, courtly, loyal knight and his adventures are throughout a foil to the heavier lot and character of Parzival. But when Gawain has had his due, the poet is glad to return to his rightful hero. Parzival has ridden through many lands; he has sailed many seas; before his lance no knight has kept his seat; his praise and fame are spread afar. Though he has never been overthrown, the sword given him by Anfortas broke; but with magic water Parzival welded it again. In a forest one day he rode up to a hut, where Sigune was living as a recluse, feeding her soul with thoughts of her dead lover, barring all fancies that might disunite her from the dead whom she still held as her husband. Parzival recognized her, and she him, when he removed his helm: “You are Sir Parzival—tell me, how is it with the Grail?”
“It has given me sorrow enough; I left a land where I was king, a loving wife, fairest of women; I suffer anguish for her love, and more because of that high goal of Munsalvaesch which is not reached. Cousin Sigune, knowing my sorrow, you do wrong to hate me.”
“My wrath is spent. You have lost joy enough since that time you failed to question Anfortas, your host—your happiness as well. Then that question would have blessed you; now joy is denied you; your high mood halts; your heart is tamed by sorrow, which had stayed a stranger to it had you asked the question.”
“I acted as a luckless man. Dear cousin, counsel me—but, say, how is it with you? I should bemoan your grief were not my own greater than man ever bore.”
“Let His hand help you who knows all sorrow. A path might bring you yet to Munsalvaesch. Cundrie but now rode hence—follow her track.”
Parzival started to follow the track of Cundrie’s mule, which soon was lost, and with it the Grail was lost again. Without guidance he rode on. He overthrew a Grail knight, and took his horse, his own having been wounded in the combat. How long he rode I know not, says the poet. One frosty morning he met an aged knight unhelmeted, and walking barefoot with his wife and daughters. The knight reproved him for riding armed on that holy day.
Parzival answered: “I do not know the time of year; it is long since I kept count of days. Once I served Him who is called God—until He graced me with His mockery. He helps, men say. I have not found it so.”
“If you mean God who was born of a virgin,” replied the old knight, “and believe that He took man’s nature, you do wrong to ride in armour; for this is the day when He hung on the Cross for us. Sir, not far from here dwells a holy man, who will give you counsel; you may repent and be absolved from your sins.”