Book XIII · KLINGSOR, part 7 of 10

¶'In Kalot Enbolot's castle he won him this lasting shame, (I trow 'tis a mighty fortress, and far lands shall know its fame,) With his wife did the monarch find him, there lay Klingsor within her arm, 485 And sorely must he repent him of his slumber so soft and warm, For the hand of the king avenged him in such wise as he deemed his right; And he left with his knife such token of shame on the traitor knight That henceforward the love of woman it rejoiceth him never more! And I wot well for his dishonour many folk shall have suffered sore.' 490

¶'('Tis not in the land of Persia) in a city called Persida Were magic spells first woven; it stands in a land afar, And thither did Klingsor journey, and there did he learn such skill, That with secrets of magic cunning he worketh whate'er he will. For the ill that was wrought his body he beareth goodwill to none, 495 But rejoiceth to work them evil, the more if they fame have won.'

¶'E'en such peril beset one monarch--Irôt was, I ween, his name, And Rosch-Sabbins was his kingdom--At length to such pass he came, That he bade him to take of that country what he would, so he peace would keep; Then Klingsor he took of the monarch this mountain so high and steep, 500 And the land for eight miles around it; on the summit did Klingsor rear The wonder-work thou seest, and this palace we look on here. And there faileth nor worldly riches, nor marvel of magic skill, If for thirty years one besieged it, methinks 'twere provisioned still. And power doth he hold o'er all spirits, 'twixt the earth and the heaven above, 505 Both evil and good, save those only whom God doth from his power remove.'

¶'Sir Knight, since thy deadly peril thou hast passed, nor thy death hast found, He gives to thine hand his kingdom, this Burg, and the lands around, No claim doth he make upon it; and peace doth he promise thee-- This he sware in the ears of his people, and a man of his word is he, 510 That the knight who withstood the venture, this gift should be his for aye. And all who from Christendom's countries 'neath the spell of his magic lay, Be they woman, or man, or maiden, are thy vassals both one and all, And many from lands of paynim with us 'neath his power must fall. Let this folk then now get them homewards, where yet for our loss they mourn, 515 For to dwell in the land of the stranger, it maketh my heart forlorn And He, who the stars hath counted, may He teach thee to give us aid, And turn once again to rejoicing those hearts that are sore afraid!'

¶'A child was born of a mother, who its mother's mother shall be; For the ice it came of the water; when the sunlight shineth free, 520 Then nothing I ween shall hinder that water from ice be born-- Of my glad youth I often think me, tho' now I must weep forlorn, If my lot shall once more be joyful then the child from the child shall spring. And thou, art thou wise and courteous, methinks well mayst work this thing!'

¶''Tis long since all joy forsook me! The skiff 'neath its sail flies fast, 525 But the man who doth sail within it hath swifter his voyage o'erpast. If thou readest aright my riddle thy fame shall wax high and fleet, For our joy canst thou make to blossom, and our song to ring clear and sweet. And, bringers of joy, shall we journey into many a distant land, Where the folk weep sore for our losing, and shall greet us with outstretched hand!' 530

¶'Of joy had I once full measure: a crownèd queen was I! And my daughter amid her princes bare a crown too right royally, And all men they deemed us worthy--Sir Knight, I wrought ill to none, But alike, both man and maiden, from my hand due guerdon won. And all men they knew, and they owned me one fit o'er the folk to reign, 535 For I, so God gave me wisdom, ne'er brought to another pain. Yet she who in gladness dwelleth, tho' a fair praise she think to earn, And the prayer of the poor she hearken, yet her joy to such grief may turn That a poor lad may make her joyful--Sir Knight, here o'erlong I stay, Yet there cometh no man who doth know me, and turneth my care away!' 540

¶Then out quoth the gallant hero, 'Lady, if life be mine, Then gladness shall be thy portion, nor shalt thou in exile pine!' Now this self-same day brought the coming of Arthur the Breton king, The son of the sad Arnivé, whom kinship and faith did bring; And many a fair new banner Gawain from the castle saw, 545 And the field it was thick with the horsemen who near at his summons draw. On the road that wound hence from Logrois came many a blazoned spear, And Gawain, he was glad at their coming; for delay it oft teacheth fear, Who waiteth o'erlong for succour, he doubteth 'twill come too late! From such doubt had King Arthur freed him! Ah me! how he rode in state! 550

¶Gawain, he would hold it secret, yet his eyes they were fain to weep, Little good had they been for cisterns, since the water they failed to keep. And for love must he weep, for Arthur such love had toward him shown, He had cherished him from his childhood, and had dealt with him as his own; And the twain they had never wavered, but their faith to each other kept, 555 And nor falsehood nor thought of doubting betwixt their two hearts had crept.

¶But Arnivé was 'ware of his weeping, and quoth, 'Now shalt thou begin To joy with the shout of rejoicing, thus comfort we all shall win. 'Gainst sorrow shouldst thou defend thee--See the host that now draweth nigh, Methinks 'tis the Duchess' army, with their coming shall joy wax high.' 560 Now many a tent and banner they saw wind across the plain, But one shield did they bear before them, and Arnivé beheld again, And she knew, as of yore, the blazon, and Isayé she called the name Of the knight, he should be king's marshal, and Uther Pendragon came! But the shield it was borne by another, graceful of limb and tall, 565 And she said, 'He shall be queen's marshal, and Maurin his name they call.' But little she knew, Arnivé, that dead were both king and knight, And Maurin, he held the office that afore was his father's right. To the bank in the meadow of conflict rode the host--They who served the queen Found a resting-place for the ladies, and a fair camp it was I ween. 570 By the side of a swift, clear streamlet they set up the tents so fair, And, apart, many goodly circles for the king and his knights prepare. And methinks they had left behind them, wherever the host must ride, A mighty track of hoof-prints on the field and the roadways wide!