Parzival: A Knightly Epic (vol. 1 of 2)

by von Eschenbach Wolfram

Then they spake, 'Wilt thou look upon her, the queen, our lady true?'
And the knight made answer straightway, that thing would he gladly do.
To the palace they came, and the stairway steep and high to the portal led,115
And the light of a fair face met him when his footsteps so far were sped.
Of his eyes should she be the sweetness—There shone from that lady bright
A radiant glow and dazzling, ere she welcomed the stranger knight.
Now Kiot of Katelangen and Manfilot, Dukes the twain,
Led hither their brother's daughter who as queen o'er this land did reign:120
(For the love of God their harness, shield, and sword, had they put away
These princes true and stalwart, fair of face tho' their hair was grey.)
Midway adown the staircase all courteous the maid they led,
And she kissed the gallant hero, and the lips of the twain were red;
And she gave him her hand, and she led him, Sir Parzival, to the hall,125
And they sat them adown together in the midst of the courtiers all.

And feeble and faint the maidens, and the knights who stood there around,
And vassal alike and hostess, small joy in their life they found.
Yet Kondwiramur, her beauty did high o'er all others stand,
Were it Enid, or fair Jeschuté or Kunnewaaré of far Lalande, 130
Whoe'er men had deemed the fairest when they women's beauty weighed,
Their fame to the earth was smitten by the glance of this royal maid.
Yea, even the twain Isoldé, tho' men praise them evermore,
They must yield the crown of beauty to the lady Kondwiramur.
(And her name in our tongue betokens her shapely form and fair) 135
And well had they done, the mothers, who had borne such a goodly pair
As these twain who sat here together, naught did they who stood around
But gaze on the one and the other—Many friends had our hero found.

And the thoughts of the knight will I tell ye, 'There Liassé, Liassé here,—
God will free me from care since I see here Liassé that maiden dear140
The child of a gallant father!'—Yet her fairness was naught I wot,
'Gainst her beauty who sat beside him, in whom God no wish forgot.
(The maiden was queen of the country) Yea, e'en as by morning dew
Refreshed, the rose from its calyx forth buddeth in beauty new,
And is white and red together—And grief to her guest it wrought, 145
To whose courtesy naught was lacking since Gurnemanz' side he sought,
And his words had from folly freed him; and had bidden him questions spare
Save only where they were needful—So he sat by that lady fair,
And never a word his lips spake, tho' he sat close the maid beside—
Yet to those who know more of woman such silence doth oft betide. 150

Then the queen to herself said softly, 'This man disdaineth me,
He deemeth my fairness faded. Nay, perchance it yet may be
That in this thing he doeth wisely, his hostess in sooth am I,
And he is my guest, the first speech should be mine assuredly!
Gently he looks upon me tho' never a word we speak, 155
And courteous hath been his bearing, 'twere well I the silence break;
Too long have I yet delayed me since here side by side we sit.'
To her guest did she turn, the maiden, and she spake as it seemed her fit:

'Sir Knight, it were well as hostess that the first words came from me,
Since I wot well my kiss as hostess a greeting hath won from thee, 160
And thou offeredst me thy service, so my maiden hath borne me word,
Our guests scarce are wont to do so, tho' the tidings I fain had heard.
Now tell me, my guest, I prithee, since the tale I am fain to know,
From whence art thou come to my kingdom, and whither thou yet wouldst go?'
'Lady, at early morning I rode from my host away, 165
A brave knight is he and faithful, yet he sorroweth sore to-day,
And Prince Gurnemanz do men call him, in Graharz he holds command,
From thence I to-day have ridden, thence came I unto this land!'

Then the noble maiden answered, 'Sir Knight, had another told
This tale, methinks that scarcely for truth I the words might hold,170
That thou in one day hadst ridden a journey that scarce in twain
My swiftest squire could compass, tho' his charger he spurred amain!
Thy host was my mother's brother; his daughter's youthful glow,
It hath paled before the sorrow which she, e'en as I, must know.
For many sad days and mournful, with sad eyes we've wept our fill 175
I, and the maid Liassé—Wouldst thou show to thy host goodwill?
Then thou shalt with us, man and woman, this night-tide our sorrow share,
Thou shalt serve him thereby; and I'll tell thee the want we perforce must bear.'

Then out spake her uncle Kiot, 'Lady, I send to thee
Twelve loaves of bread, and of shoulders and hams do I give thee three,180
And eight cheeses too are with them, and two casks of wine I trow,
And my brother, he too shall aid thee, of such aid hast thou need enow!'
And Manfilot spake, 'Yea, Lady, I send thee the self-same fare.'
And the maiden she sat in gladness, and of thanks she no word would spare.
Then leave they craved from their lady, and forth would the old men ride185
To their hunting-house that was nigh there—But the cell where they would abide,
Was in Alpine wilds so lonely, there unarmed did they dwell afar,
And never a foeman vexed them with tumult or strife of war.

And the messenger sped full swiftly, and the fainting folk were fed,
No Burger within the city but was lacking for other bread, 190
And many were dead of hunger ere food for their need was found.
Then the queen she bade them share it to the feeble folk around,
With the cheese, the flesh, and the red wine, as Parzival counsel gave,
Scarce a morsel was left, yet they shared it, the queen and her guest so brave.

And swiftly the store had vanished, tho' to many who yet might live,195
Nor were slain by cruel hunger this succour fresh life might give.
Then they bade them a couch make ready for the guest, and 'twas soft his bed,
(Had the Burgers been hawks for the hunting methinks they were not o'er-fed
As their scanty board bare witness) yea, the folk there, one and all,
Bare the marks of bitter hunger, save the gallant Parzival. 200

Then leave he prayed of his hostess, he would lay him down to rest.
Do ye think that for tapers straw-wisps must light so brave a guest?
Nay, better were they I think me; he betook him, the hero fair,
To a bed so rich and stately a king well might slumber there,
Nor of poverty bare it token, and a carpet before it lay. 205
Then he prayed the knights to go hence, nor longer there delay,
And noble lads un-shod him, and straightway he fell asleep,
Till the cry of heart-sorrow woke him, and tears that bright eyes should weep.