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

by von Eschenbach Wolfram

'Then the knights of the Grail knelt lowly, and for help to the Grail they prayed,865
And, behold! the mystic writing, and a promise it brought of aid,
For a knight should come to the castle, and so soon as he asked the king
Of the woe that so sorely pained him his question should healing bring.
But let them beware, man or maiden, or child, should they warn the knight
Of his task, he no healing bringeth, greater waxeth the sorrow's might.870
And the writing it ran, 'Ye shall mark this, forewarning shall bring but ill,
And in the first night of his coming must the healer his task fulfil,
Or the question shall lose its virtue; but if at the chosen hour
He shall speak, his shall be the kingdom, and the evil hath lost its power.
So the hand of the Highest sendeth to Anfortas the end of woe, 875
Yet King shall he be no longer tho' healing and bliss he know.'

'Thus we read in the Grail that our sorrow should come to an end that day
That the knight should come who the meaning of the grief that he saw should pray—
Then salve of Nard we took us, and Teriak, and the wound we dressed,
And we burnt wood of Lignum Aloe for so might the king find rest. 880
Yet ever he suffereth sorely—Then fled I unto this place,
And my life little gladness knoweth till my brother hath gotten grace.
And the knight, he hath come, and hath left us, and ill for us all that day,
(But now did I speak of his coming,) sorrow-laden he rode away,
For he saw his host's woe and asked not, 'What aileth thee here, mine host?'885
Since his folly such words forbade him great bliss shall he there have lost!'

Then awhile did they mourn together till the mid-day hour drew near,
And the host spake, 'We must be seeking for food, and thine horse, I fear,
As yet shall be lacking fodder; nor know I how we shall feed
If not God in His goodness show us the herbs that shall serve our need,890
My kitchen but seldom smoketh! Forgive thou the lack to-day,
And abide here, so long as shall please thee, if thy journey shall brook delay.
Of plants and of herbs would I teach thee much lore, if so be the grass
Were not hidden by snow—God grant us that this cold may be soon o'erpast—
Now break we yew-boughs for thy charger, far better its fare hath been895
Erewhile 'neath the roof of Monsalväsch than shall here be its lot I ween!
Yet never a host shall ye meet with who rider alike and steed
Would as gladly bid share of his substance as I, had I all ye need!'
Then the twain they went forth on their errand—Parzival for his steed had care,
While the hermit for roots was seeking since no better might be their fare;900
And the host his rule forgat not, he ate naught, whate'er he found,
Till the ninth hour, but ever hung them, as he drew them from out the ground,
On the nearest shrub, and there left them; many days he but ill might fare
For God's honour, since oft he lost them, the shrubs which his roots did bear.

Nor grudged they aught of their labour: then they knelt by the streamlet's flow,905
And the roots and the herbs they washed there, and no laughter their lips might know.
Then their hands they washed, and the yew-boughs Parzival together bound
And bare them unto his charger ere the cavern again he found;
Then the twain by the fireside sat them, nor further might food be brought,
Nor on roast nor on boiled they fed them, nor found in their kitchen aught.910
Yet so true was the love and the honour Parzival to the hermit bare
That he deemed he enough had eaten, and no better had been his fare
With Gurnemanz of Graharz, or e'en in Monsalväsch hall,
When the maidens passed fair before him and the Grail fed them each and all.

Then his kindly host quoth, 'Nephew, despise not this food, for know915
Lightly thou shalt not find one who shall favour and kindness show,
Of true heart, without fear of evil, as fain would I show to thee.'
And Parzival quoth, 'May God's favour henceforward ne'er light on me
If food ever better pleased me, or I ate with a better will
What a host ever set before me, such fare doth content me still.' 920

Their hands they need not wash them for such food as before them lay,
'Twas no fish, that their eyes had harmèd as men oft are wont to say.
And were I or hawk or falcon I had lent me to the chase,
Nor stooped to the lure unwilling, nor fled from my master's face,
But an they no better fed me than at noontide they fed, these twain,925
I had spread my wings right swiftly, nor come to their call again!
Why mock at this folk so faithful? 'Twas ever my way of old—
Yet ye know why, forsaking riches, they chose to them want and cold,
And the lack of all things joyful, such sorrow and grief of heart
They bare of true heart, God-fearing, nor had they in falsehood part;
And thus from the hand of the Highest they won payment for grief and woe,930
And alike should the twain God's favour, as of old, so hereafter know.

Then up stood they again, and they gat them, Parzival and the holy man,
To the steed in its rocky stable, and full sadly the host began
As he spake to the noble charger, 'Woe is me for thy scanty fare, 935
For the sake of the saddle upon thee and the token I see thee bear!'

When their care for the horse was ended, then sorrow sprang forth anew,
Quoth Parzival, 'Host and uncle, my folly I needs must rue,
And fain would I tell the story if for shame I the word may speak;
Forgive me, I pray, of thy kindness, since in thee do I comfort seek,940
For sorely, I ween, have I sinnèd; if thou canst no comfort find
No peace may be mine, but for ever the chains of remorse shall bind.
Of true heart shalt thou mourn my folly—He who to Monsalväsch rode,
He who saw Anfortas' sorrow, he who spake not the healing word,
'Twas I, child and heir of misfortune, 'twas I, Parzival, alone, 945
Ill have I wrought, and I know not how I may for such ill atone!'

Spake the hermit, 'Alas! my nephew, thou speakest the words of woe,
Vanished our joy, and sorrow henceforth must we grasp and know,
Since folly of bliss betrayed thee: senses five did God give to thee,
And methinks, in the hour of thy testing, their counsel should better be.950
Why guarded they not thine honour, and thy love as a man to men,
In the hour that thou satst by Anfortas? Of a truth hadst thou spoken then!'

'Nor would I deny thee counsel; mourn not for thy fault too sore,
Thou shalt, in a fitting measure, bewail thee, and grief give o'er.
For strange are the ways, and fitful, of mankind, oft is youth too wise955
And old age turneth back to folly, and darkened are wisdom's eyes,
And the fruit of a life lieth forfeit, while green youth doth wax old and fade—
Not in this wise true worth shall be rooted, and payment in praise be paid.
Thine youth would I see fresh blooming, and thine heart waxing strong and bold,
While thou winnest anew thine honour, nor dost homage from God withhold.960
For thus might it chance unto thee to win for thyself such fame
As shall make amends for thy sorrow, and God thee, as His knight, shall claim!'