And he thought, 'Gurnemanz he bade me, in truth, without thought of guile,
To withhold my lips from question—If here I abide awhile
Methinks it will then befall me as aforetime in Graharz land, 245
They will tell me, without my question, how here with this folk it stands.'
Then e'en as he sat thus musing came a squire who a sword did bear,
And its sheath was a thousand marks' worth, and its hilt was a ruby rare,
And the blade, it might well work wonders—Then the host gave it to the knight,
And he spake, 'I full oft have borne it in many a deadly fight 250
Ere God's Hand thus sorely smote me; now with this shalt thou be repaid
If aught hath in care been lacking—Henceforth shalt thou bear this blade
Whatever chance befall thee, and when thou its power hast tried
Thou wilt know thou art fully armèd, whatever strife betide.'
Ah! woe to the guest that asked not, I am sorrowful for his sake, 255
When his hand clasped the sword 'twas a token that his silence he well might break.
For the host too my heart is heavy, thus tortured by nameless woe,
And a question therefrom had freed him, yet to question his guest was slow.
But now the feast was ended, who the vessels hither bore
Again to their task they turn them, and they bear them forth once more.260
The cars again they circle; each maid to her task was fain
From last to first; the noblest she turned to the Grail again,
To host and guest all-courteous the queen and her maidens bend,
What they brought they once more would bear forth thro' the door at the high hall's end.
And Parzival he gazed after, and lo! thro' the open door 265
Within an outer chamber, on a folding couch he saw
The fairest of old men ancient whom ever his eyes had seen,
Grey was he as mists of morning—Nor o'er rash is the tale, I ween,
Who he was shalt thou know hereafter, when a fitting time shall be,
The host, his Burg, and his kingdom, yea, all will I name to ye, 270
And all shall be clear and in order, no halting my tale shall know;
Methinks that I then shall show ye the bowstring without the bow.
'Tis a symbol good, the bowstring, for swift as ye deem the bow,
Yet the shaft that the bowstring speedeth findeth swifter its aim, I trow!
And not without thought I said it, for the string, it seemeth me, 275
Is like to the simple story wherewith men well-pleased shall be;
For it goeth straight to its ending, while he who aside shall stray,
Tho' his goal at last he reacheth findeth all too long his way.
When unbent the bow thou sawest, then straight was, I ween, the string,
From the straight line thou erst must draw it, ere the shaft to its goal may wing.280
But he who his story aimeth at the ear of a fool shall find
His shaft go astray, for no dwelling it findeth within his mind.
Too wide is the road, I think me, and that which he chance to hear
Ere yet he may know the meaning flies out at the other ear.
Far rather at home I 'ld bide me than in such ears my story tell, 285
A beast, or a stock, I think me, as a hearer would serve as well.
But further I fain would tell ye of this people so full of woe
To whom he had come, our hero, glad song might they seldom know,
Or sound of dance or of Tourney; so heavy were they at heart
That never a thought of gladness might find in their life a part, 290
And oft shall the folk be fewer yet of joy shall have fuller share,
But here every nook was crowded, nor space in the court to spare.
The host to his guest spake kindly, 'Methinks they thy couch have spread,
Art thou weary? then list my counsel, and get thee, my guest, to bed.'
(Now here might I raise my war-cry at the parting betwixt the twain,295
For I wot well that bitter sorrow each must from the venture gain.)
To the side of his host he stepped him, Parzival the fair of face,
And the Fisher a fair night wished him—Then the knights stepped each from his place,
And a part drew near towards him, and they led the stranger guest
Straightway to a sleeping chamber, and goodly should be his rest. 300
'Twas richly decked for his honour, and the couch it was spread so fair
That my poverty sorely grieves me since the earth doth such riches bear.
And that bed knew, I ween, no lacking, and a rich silk above it lay,
Bright-coloured its hue, and glowing as tho' fire-light did on it play;
Then Parzival prayed the heroes to get them again to rest, 305
For he saw there but one couch only, and they passed hence at his behest.
But he lacked not for other service—His fair face and tapers light
Gave challenge unto each other—What day e'er might shine so bright?
And before his couch was another, thereon would he take his seat
While pages drew them nearer, and proffered him service meet. 310
And they bared his white feet comely, and they laid his robes aside,
And of noble birth were these children, and fair in their youthful pride.
Then there passed thro' the open doorway four maidens fair and bright,
They would know if they well had served him, and if soft lay the stranger knight.
And so the venture telleth, a squire a taper bare 315
Before each gentle maiden—Parzival, that hero fair,
Sprang swift to his couch; then the maidens with gentle voice they spake,
'Sir Knight, we fain would pray thee for our sake awhile to wake'—
Yet as children sport with each other had he hidden him from their sight
Ere yet they might hear his greeting, yet their eyes had found swift delight,320
And their heart's desire was quickened at the sight of his red lips' glow
That for youth were as yet unhidden, for no hair did upon them grow.