Nor many a field well-fencèd nor wayside cross he found;
Nor chariot-wheel nor horse-hoof had furrowed with tracks the ground;
Untrodden the woodland pathway, nor wide was I ween the way, 15
And he knew not the hills and the valleys—Full oft shall ye hear men say,
'Who rideth astray, in his wandering the lost axe may often find.'
They lay here unnumbered round him, if for axe ye have trees in mind.
Yet tho' far was the road he journeyed yet he went in no wise astray,
And thus from the land of Graharz he rode through the livelong day, 20
Till he came to the kingdom of Brobarz thro' mountains wild and high—
When the shadows of evening lengthened, and red flushed the western sky,
Then he came to a mountain torrent, and the voice of the raging flood
Rang clear as its waves rushed foaming round the crags that amid them stood.
So he rode adown by the waters till he came to the city fair 25
Which a king had bequeathed to his daughter; 'twas the city of Pelrapär,
And I wot that tho' fair the maiden who bare of that land the crown,
Great grief and small gladness had they who dwelt in that noble town!
Like an arrow that swiftly speedeth from the bow by a strong arm bent,
The waters onward rushing on their downward pathway went; 30
And a bridge hung high above them with woven work so fair,
And the stream it flowed swift to the ocean—Well-guarded was Pelrapär,
As children in swings delight them, and swing themselves to and fro,
So swung the bridge, yet ropeless, youthful gladness it scarce might know!
And on either side were standing, with helmets for battle bound, 35
Of knights e'en more than thirty, and they bade him to turn him round,
And with lifted swords, tho' feeble, the strife would they gladly wait,
They thought 'twas the King Klamidé whom they oft had seen of late,
So royally rode the hero to the bridge o'er the field so wide—
As thus to the youth they shouted, and with one voice his arms defied,40
Tho' he spurred his steed full sharply it shrank from the bridge in fright,
But ne'er knew he a thought of terror—To the ground sprang the gallant knight.
And he led his horse by the bridle where the bridge hung high in air,
Too faint were a coward's courage so bitter a strife to dare!
And well must he watch his footsteps for he feared lest his steed should fall—45
From the other side of the water the knights had ceased their call,
And with shield and sword-blade gleaming within the town they passed,
For they feared lest an army followed, and they closed their portals fast.
So Parzival crossed the river, and he rode o'er a grassy plain
Where many in search of knighthood must death for their guerdon gain;50
And he came to the palace portal, and stately the Burg and high,
And there hung there a ring of iron, and he gripped it right manfully.
But none to his call made answer, save only a maiden bright
Who looked forth from out her window, and was 'ware of the gallant knight.
Spake the maiden so fair and courteous, 'An thou comest, Sir Knight, as foe,55
Little need have we of thine hatred, for heavy enough our woe,
A wrathful host doth threaten already by sea and land!'
Then he quoth, 'Nay, gentle lady, at thy portals a man doth stand
Who will, if he can, do thee service! For thy service my hand is fain,
And never reward save thy greeting as payment I think to gain.' 60
Then the maiden she went in her wisdom to the queen and an entrance prayed
For the knight, and in sooth his coming it brought to their sorrow aid.
So Parzival came to the city; down the roadway on either hand
The folk who would fain defend them in close groups he saw them stand,
Soldiers on foot, and slingers, and they who the dart could throw, 65
He saw as he came towards them, in many a goodly row.
And many a squire so valiant, the bravest from out the land,
Long, sharp, and strong were the lances they bare in each strong right hand.
There too, so the story telleth, was many a merchant grave,
And the javelin and axe were their weapons, so their lady commandment gave.70
And their skins, they were loose for hunger—Then the Marshal of the queen
Made his way thro' their ranks to the castle, and heavy his task I ween.
And well was that castle guarded, with towers o'er the chambers high;
And barbican, keep, and oriel in such numbers they met his eye
That buildings so strong and so many in his lifetime he never saw, 75
And on horse or afoot from all sides the knights to his welcome draw.
'Twas a sorry host, for as ashes some were grey, some were pale as clay,
(My lord the Count of Wertheim sure had starved on such scanty pay!)
Thro' want full sore they hungered, nor cheese, nor bread, nor meat
Had they, and their teeth were idle since naught might they find to eat.80
And their palate knew naught of the flavour of the wine-cup, or red or white,
And their doublet hung loosely on them, and wasted each limb of might,
And their skin like wrinkled leather on each rib hung gaunt and grim,
For hunger their flesh had wasted and driven from every limb.
Thro' want must they sorely suffer, little grease in their fuel ran—85
(A hero to this had forced them, the proud King of Brandigan,
Thus they paid for Klamidé's wooing)—The mead might they seldom spill,
For small was their store, I think me, the vessel or cup to fill.
In Trühending oft shall ye hearken the hiss of the frying cake,
In such music, methinks, but seldom the folk might their pleasure take!90
(And if for such want I'ld mock them, then in truth must I share their shame,
For there where I oft dismount me, where men do me 'Master' name,
At home in mine house, with trouble e'en the mice shall their portion steal,
Nor oft for their food be joyful! Nor need they the bread conceal,
Unhidden, I scarce may find it—Yea, oft doth it happen so, 95
And I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, ofttimes such pleasure and ease may know.)
But enough of my lamentation, once more ye the tale shall hear
How the city was full of sorrow, and for gladness they paid full dear.
How these heroes, so rich in courage, must in need and in scarceness live,
For so did the manhood bid them, to their need shall ye pity give—100
For their life stood in pledge, might He free it in Whose Hand all power shall be!—
Yet more of their grief would I tell ye that ye mourn for them bitterly,
With shame their guest did they welcome, for they deemed him so rich and great
That he craved not thro' need their shelter; he knew naught of their poor estate.
On the grass did they spread a carpet, where a linden was walled around,105
And trained to a welcome shadow—'Neath its boughs they his arms unbound,
And the vassals they took his harness; but other than theirs his face
When he in the streamlet washed it, and cleansed it from red rust trace;
Nay, the sunlight's rays were shamèd 'neath the glow of his beauty bright,
And a worthy guest they thought him as they gazed on the gallant knight.110
Then a mantle rich they brought him e'en like to the robe he bare,
And new was the smell of the sable wherewith it was garnished fair.