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

by von Eschenbach Wolfram

Then in joy and in fair diversion, till eleven days were o'er,
Feirefis abode at Monsalväsch, on the twelfth would he ride once-more,
He would lead his wife, this rich man, to his army that yet did wait 555
His coming, and Parzival sorrowed for the brother he won so late,
And mourned sore when he heard the tidings—Then counsel he took straightway,
And a goodly force of the Templars did he send with them on their way,
Thro' the woodland paths should they guide them—Anfortas, the gallant knight,
Himself fain would be their escort—sore wept many maidens bright. 560

And new pathways they needs must cut them to Karkobra's city fair—
Then Anfortas, he sent a message to him who was Burg-grave there;
And he bade him, if aye of aforetime rich gifts from his hand he won
To bethink him, that so this service of true heart by him be done;
His brother-in-law with his lady, the king's sister, he now must guide 565
Thro' the wood Lœhprisein, where the haven afar lieth wild and wide—
For now 'twas the hour of parting, nor further the knights must fare,
But Anfortas, he spake to Kondrie, and he bade her the message bear.
Then from Feirefis, the rich man, the Templars leave did pray,
And the courteous knight and noble rode hence on his homeward way. 570

And the Burg-grave no whit delayed him, but he did e'en at Kondrie's word,
And gave welcome fair and knightly to the folk and their noble lord.
Nor might Feirefis grow weary of his stay, at the dawn of day,
With many a knight as escort, they guided him on his way.
But I know not how far he had ridden, nor the countries his eyes had seen 575
Ere he came once more to Ioflanz, and its meadow, so fair and green.

And some of the folk yet abode there—and Feirefis fain had known,
In the self-same hour, the tidings of whither the host had flown;
For each one had sought his country, and the road that full well he knew—
King Arthur to Camelot journeyed with many a hero true— 580
Then he of Tribalibot hastened, and his army he sought once more,
For his ships lay yet in the haven, and they grieved for their lord full sore
And his coming brought joy and courage to many a hero bold—
The Burg-grave and his knights from Karkobra he rewarded with gifts and gold—
And strange news did they tell unto Kondrie, for messengers sought the host, 585
Sekundillé was dead; with the tidings they many a sea had crossed.
Then first in her distant journey did Répanse de Schoie find joy,
And in India's realm hereafter did she bear to the king a boy;
And Prester John they called him, and he won to himself such fame
That henceforward all kings of his country were known by no other name. 590
And Feirefis sent a writing thro' the kingdoms whose crown he bore,
And the Christian Faith was honoured as it never had been of yore.
(And Tribalibot was that country which as India here we know.)
Then Feirefis spake to Kondrie, and he bade her his brother show
(Who reigneth in far Monsalväsch) what had chanced unto him, the king, 595
And the death of Queen Sekundillé—and the tidings the maid did bring;
And Anfortas was glad and joyful to think that his sister fair,
Without or strife or conflict, the crown of those lands might bear.

Now aright have ye heard the story of the children of Frimutel,
Five they were, and three are living, and death unto two befell. 600
And the one was Schoysiané, who was pure in the sight of God,
And the other was Herzeleide, and falsehood her soul abhorred;
And the sword and the life of knighthood, Trevrezent, he had laid them down
For the love of God, and His service, and the hope of a deathless crown.
And the gallant knight, Anfortas, pure heart and strong hand he bore, 605
And well for the Grail he jousted, but for women he fought no more.
And Lohengrin grew to manhood, and cowardice from him flew,
And his heart yearned for deeds of knighthood, to the Grail he did service true.

Would ye further hear the story? A maiden, in days of yore,
Whose heart was free from falsehood, the crown of a fair land bore— 610
Her heirdom was rich and noble, and lowly and pure her heart,
And no taint of earthly longing had found in her soul a part.
And wooers she had in plenty, of crownèd kings, I ween,
And princes, whose race and kingdom fit mate for her own had been.
Yet so humble she was, the maiden, she thought not of earthly love— 615
And the counts of her realm waxed wrathful, since no pleading her soul could move,
And their anger raged hot against her that she gave not her maiden hand
To one who should be fit ruler o'er her folk, and her goodly land.
In God was her trust, whatever men might in their anger speak,
And guiltless, she bare the vengeance her folk on her head would wreak. 620
But she called of her land the princes, and they journeyed from far and near,
From many a distant country, the will of their queen to hear.
And she sware she would have no husband, and no man as her lord would own
Save him whom God's Hand should send her, his love would she wait alone.

Of the land of Brabant was she princess—From Monsalväsch he came, the knight 625
Whom God at His will should send her, and his guide was a swan so white.
He set foot in her land at Antwerp, and she knew that her heart spake true,
And gallant was he to look on, and all men the hero knew
For a noble knight and manly, and his face, it was wondrous fair,
And his fame was in every kingdom where men did his deeds declare. 630
And a wise man he was, free-handed, with never a doubting heart,
And faithful and true, and falsehood it found in his life no part.

A fair welcome the princess gave him—now list ye unto his rede,
Rich and poor stood there around him, and they gave to his words good heed,
And he spake thus, 'My Lady Duchess, if thou wilt not mine hand refuse, 635
But wilt have me for lord and husband, for thy sake I a kingdom lose—
But hearken to what I pray thee, ask thou never who I may be,
And seek not to know my country, for so may I abide with thee.
In the day thou dost ask the question of my love shalt thou be bereft—
Take thou warning, lest God recall me to the land which erewhile I left.' 640
Then she pledged her faith as a woman that her love, it should ne'er wax less,
She would do e'en as he should bid her, and never his will transgress
So long as God wit should give her—Her love did he win that night,
And Lord of Brabant and its Duchess they hailed him with morning light.

And the marriage feast was costly, and many a knight the land 645
That of right should be his, as vassal, must take from his princely hand.
For he gave ever righteous judgment, and many a gallant deed
Of knighthood he did, and, valiant, he won of fair fame his meed.
Fair children were born unto them—The folk of Brabant yet know
Of the twain, how he came unto them, and wherefore he thence must go, 650
And how long he dwelt among them ere her question broke the spell,
And drove him forth, unwilling, for so shall the story tell.
The friendly swan, it sought him, and a little boat did bring,
And he sailed thence, and left as tokens his sword, and his horn, and ring.
So Lohengrin passed from among them, for in sooth this gallant knight 655
Was Parzival's son, and none other, if the tale ye would know aright.
By water-ways he sought it, the home of the Grail, again—
And what of the lovely duchess who longed for her lord in vain?
Why drove she hence her true love? since he bade her be warned of yore,
And forbade her to ask the question when he landed on Brabant's shore— 660
Here Herr Erec should speak, for, I think me, he knoweth the tale to tell
Of revenging for broken pledges, and the fate that such speech befell!

If Chrêtien of Troyes, the master, hath done to this tale a wrong,
Then Kiot may well be wrathful, for he taught us aright the song,
To the end the Provençal told it—How Herzeleide's son the Grail 665
Did win, as was fore-ordainèd when Anfortas thereto did fail.
And thus, from Provence, the story to the German land was brought,
And aright was it told, and the story doth lack in its ending naught.
I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, think me that here-of will I speak no more—
Of Parzival's race, and his kindred, of that have I told afore; 670
To the goal of his bliss have I brought him—he whose life such an end shall gain,
That his soul doth not forfeit Heaven for sins that his flesh shall stain,
And yet, as true man and worthy, the world's favour and grace doth keep
Hath done well, nor hath lost his labour, nor his fame shall hereafter sleep!
And if good and gracious women shall think I be worthy praise, 675
Since I tell to its end my story, then joyful shall be my days.
And since for the love of a woman I have sung it, this song of old,
I would that, in sweet words gentle, my guerdon by her be told!