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

by von Eschenbach Wolfram

And so bold was I ween the hero that on foot did he go straightway, 195
Undaunted, to face the peril untold that before him lay.
And, as I before have told ye, the Burg it stood high and wide,
And its bulwarks so stoutly builded did guard it on either side.
If for thirty years they stormed it, not a berry or leaf would yield,
However the foe might threaten; in the midst was a grassy field, 200
(Yet the Lechfeld I ween is longer,) many turrets they towered on high,
And the story it tells that Gawain, as the palace he did espy,
Saw the roof shine all many-coloured, as peacock's plumes its glow,
And so bright it was that its glory was dimmed nor by rain nor snow.

And within was it richly furnished, and decked to delight the eye, 205
And the pillars were richly carven, and the windows were arched on high,
And many a fair couch costly had they set there against the wall,
Nor touched they the one to the other, and rich covers lay over all.
And but now had the maidens sat there, but each one had taken thought,
And no one of them all remained there, and of welcome Gawain found naught. 210
Yet their joy came again with his coming, and the day of their bliss was he,
And 'twere well they had looked upon him, none fairer their eyes might see.
Yet none there might dare behold him, tho' to serve them he aye was fain,
And yet in this thing were they guiltless—Thro' the palace strode knight Gawain,
And he looked on this side and the other, and he sought well the chamber o'er, 215
If to left or to right I know not, but he saw there an open door,
And wherever that door might lead him the hero was fain to go,
If high fame he might gain for his seeking, or die there a death of woe!

So stepped he within the chamber, and behold! the shining floor,
As glass it lay smooth beneath him, and the Lit-Merveil he saw, 220
The wonder-couch; and beneath it four rollers as crystal clear,
And fashioned of fire-red rubies: as the swift wind afar and near
Did it speed o'er the shining pavement, no floor might fairer be,
Chrysolite, sardius, jasper, inwrought there the eye might see.
For so had Klingsor willed it, and the thought it was his alone, 225
From far-off lands his magic had brought to the Burg each stone.

So smooth 'neath his feet the pavement, scarce might be his footing hold,
Then fain would he seek the venture, but, so is the marvel told,
As ever he stood before it the couch from its station fled,
And swift as the winds of heaven o'er the glittering floor it sped. 230
(And Gawain he found all too heavy the shield that his hand gripped fast,
And yet did his host give counsel it should ne'er on one side be cast.)
Thought Gawain, 'Now, how may I reach thee, since still thou dost fly from me?
Methinks thou shalt have a lesson, it may be I may spring to thee!'
Then still stood the couch before him, and straight from the ground he leapt 235
And stood firm in the midst of the marvel, and again o'er the floor it swept,
And hither and thither turning in the four walls its goal it found,
And blow upon blow fell swiftly, till the Burg echoed back the sound.

And many a charge did he ride there, with crash, as of thunder-cloud,
Or as trumpeters blow together when their blasts thro' the hall ring loud, 240
And the one vieth with the other, and each for a fair prize blows.
Less loud should have been their tumult than the tumult that there arose!
And waken and watch must Sir Gawain, altho' on a bed he lay.
How best might the hero guard him? The noise he was fain to stay,
And his head with his shield he covered—There he lay, and would wait His will 245
Who hath help in His power, and helpeth all those who entreat Him still,
And shutteth His ear to no man who in sorrow for aid doth pray.
And the man who is wise and steadfast, as dawneth his sorrow's day,
Doth call on the hand of the Highest, that shall ne'er be too short to reach,
And the aid that shall meet their lacking He sendeth to all and each. 250
And so was it now with Gawain—Thro' Whose grace he had gotten fame,
He called on His power and His mercy to shelter him here from shame.

Then stilled for a space the clamour—The couch stood within the hall,
And an equal space had they measured from its station to either wall.
Yet now waxed his peril greater, for five hundred missiles, swung 255
With craft from hands yet hidden, were against Sir Gawain flung.
And they fell on the couch as he lay there; but the shield it was hard and new,
And it sheltered him well, and I think me of the blows did he feel but few.
And the stones were as river pebbles, so heavy, and hard, and round,
And in many a place on the surface of the shield might their trace be found. 260

At length was the stone-shower ended, and never before he knew
Such sharp and such heavy missiles as those which toward him flew.
For now full five hundred cross-bows were bended, their bolts they sped,
And each one was aimed at the hero as he lay on the Wonder-Bed.
(And he who hath faced such peril in sooth he of darts may tell:) 265
Yet their wrath was soon spent, and silence for awhile on the chamber fell.
And he who would seek for comfort he ne'er on such couch should lie!
Little solace or rest may he find there, but peace from his face shall fly!
And youth would wax grey and agèd, if such comfort should be its share
As fell to the lot of Gawain, when he lay on that couch so fair. 270
Yet nor weariness nor terror had weakened or hand or heart,
Tho' the stones and the bolts of the cross-bow had done on his limbs their part,
And spite of both shield and corslet, sore bruisèd and cut was he:
And he thought that, this peril ended, the venture should ended be—
But yet with his hand must he battle, and the prize of the victor win, 275
For a doorway e'en now flew open, and one trode the hall within;
And the man was a mighty peasant, and fearful of face, and grim,
And the hide of the grey sea-otter was his covering on head and limb,
And his hosen were wide, and he carried a club in his strong right hand,
And 'twas thicker I ween than a pitcher that round-bellied doth firmly stand. 280

So came he unto Sir Gawain, (and his coming it pleased him ill,)
Yet he thought, 'He doth bear no harness, mine arms shall withstand him still,'
Upright on the couch he sat him, as nor terror nor pain he knew,
And the peasant, as he would flee him, a space from the bed withdrew,
And he cried in a voice so wrathful, 'From me hast thou naught to fear, 285
Yet such peril I'll loose upon thee that thy life must thou buy full dear;
The devil himself doth aid thee, else wert thou not still in life,
Bethink thee, for death cometh swiftly, and the ending of all thy strife,
No more can the devil shield thee, that I tell thee ere hence I pass!'
Then he gat him once more thro' the doorway, and Gawain gripped his sword-hilt fast, 290
And the shafts did he smite asunder of the arrows that thro' his shield
Had passed, and had pierced his armour, nor yet to his hand would yield.

Then a roar, as of mighty thunder, on the ear of Gawain did fall,
As when twenty drums were sounding to dance in the castle hall.
Then the hero, so firm and dauntless, whose courage ne'er felt the smart 295
Of the wounds that cowardice pierceth, thought thus in his steadfast heart:
'What evil shall now befall me? Must I yet more sorrow know?
For sorrow enow have I seen here, yet here will I face my foe!'
He looked toward the peasant's doorway, and a mighty lion sprang thro',
And its size was e'en that of a warhorse, and straight on Gawain it flew. 300
But Gawain he was loth to fly here, and his shield he held fast before,
As best for defence should serve him, and he sprang down upon the floor.
And the lion was hunger-ravening, yet little should find for food,
Tho' raging it sprang on the hero, who bravely its rush withstood.

The shield it had near torn from him, with the first grip its talons fierce 305
It drave thro' the wood, such hardness but seldom a beast may pierce.
Yet Gawain did right well defend him, his sword-blade aloft he swung,
And on three feet the beast must hold him, while the fourth from the shield yet hung.
And the blood gushed forth on the pavement, and Gawain he firmer stood,
And the fight raged hither and thither, as the lion, on the hero good, 310
Sprang ever with snorting nostrils, and gleaming fangs and white—
And if on such food they had reared it, that its meat was a gallant knight,
I had cared not to sit beside it! Nor such custom pleased Gawain well,
Who for life or for death must fight it—and the strife ever fiercer fell.