Book III · GURNEMANZ, part 4 of 13

¶Then his mother with forethought bade him to tarry till morning light, 255 'Nor from hence would I have thee journey till my rede thou hast heard aright-- 'Keep thou ever from paths untrodden and ford not the darkling stream, Where the waters flow clear and limpid, there safe is the ford I ween. And be ever fair and courteous, greet all men who pass thy way. If a wise man old and grey-headed would teach thee, as well he may, 260 All courteous ways and fitting, as his word so shall be thy deed, Nor wax wroth if by whiles he chide thee, but give to my words good heed. And one thing, my son, would I tell thee, canst thou win from a maid her ring And her greeting fair, thou shalt take them, and sorrow hath lost her sting! If a kiss from her lips she will give thee, and thine arms shall the maid enfold, 265 Be she pure and true thou art blessèd, and thy strength shall wax high and bold!'

¶'And hearken my son, a proud knight, Lähelein, do men call his name, From thy princes two lands hath wrested, else from them couldst thou tribute claim. And Waleis they are and Norgals--and one of thy princes brave, Turkentals, hath he slain, and thy people he hath smitten and doth enslave.' 270 'For such wrong will I vengeance, mother, if vengeance be here God's will, Be he never so strong with my javelin I think me to wound him still.'

¶Then e'en at the daylight's dawning the boy would no longer stay, For the thought of King Arthur's glory yet heavy upon him lay. Then Queen Herzeleide kissed him, and she sped swift his steed behind, 275 And the sorrow of sorrows smote her when her boy she no more might find. (Hence he rode and what heart rejoiceth?) Then the queen from all falsehood free, Fell low on the earth, and grief tare her till death must her portion be! Yet I wot that her death so faithful it hath saved her from pains of Hell, And to be of such son the mother, it repayeth all anguish well! 280 Thus she, the root of all goodness whence humility's flower might blow, Herself on a pilgrimage wended that a goodly goal should know. Woe worth us! that none of their children should live still, to hand us down In these days when we look on falsehood their honour and fair renown. And therefore shall faithful women wish well to this lad so bold, 285 Who rideth fair ventures seeking, whose journey ye now behold!

¶Then the gallant lad rode onward on his way toward Briziljan's wood, And he came to a rippling streamlet, and a cock well might wade that flood! And flowers in the grass were blooming, yet so darkling ran the wave That the lad he thought not to ford it; but as wit the counsel gave, 290 So he followed its course thro' the daylight, and he passed as he could the night, Till he saw once more the morning, and he came to a fair ford bright. On the further side was a meadow, and a tent decked the grass so green, And tall was the tent wide-spreading, and riches thereon were seen; 'Twas of samite of threefold colours, on the seams lay fair ribbons wide, 295 And a leathern covering hung there, 'gainst the rain-cloud to guard its pride.

¶('Twas Duke Orilus of Lalande, whose wife he beneath it found-- She lay there in peaceful slumber with riches happed fair around, A Duchess she was, well worthy the love of a gallant knight, And the venture it tells that Jeschuté was the name of that lady bright) 300

¶Softly the princess slumbered,--yet weapons of love she bore; A mouth so red and glowing, that a knight's heart had wounded sore, And e'en as she slept they parted asunder, her lips so bright, That the fire of love had kindled, (fit venture for gallant knight) And even as ivory snow-white, and little, and close the row 305 Of the teeth that gleamed white betwixt them--methinks that a man were slow To use himself to such kisses from a mouth that all men might praise-- I wot that so fair a guerdon but seldom hath crowned my days!

¶A covering of richest sable over foot and knee was thrown, (For the heat she aside hath cast it, whom her lord had thus left alone) 310 And her form it was fairly fashioned, and wrought by a skilful hand, Since 'twas God Himself in His wisdom who so fair a work had planned. And long was her arm and rounded: on her snow-white hand a ring Gleamed golden, and when he saw it the lad to her side did spring; For had not his mother told him such jewels were the guerdon fair 315 That a knight well might crave? and he thought him he fain would such token bear!

¶Then the lady awoke in terror as his clasp on her white arm fell, And gazed in startled wonder and wrath as beseemed her well; 'Who is it, who thus would shame me? Nay, sir, thou art all too free! Go, choose thee some fairer maiden, my favours are not for thee!' 320

¶In vain might she weep and bewail her; he asked not her yea, or nay, But took from her lips unwilling the kiss she would fain gainsay; And the ring of gold from her finger with ungentle hand he'ld take, And the clasp that her shift had fastened from the garment he roughly brake: In vain were her tears and struggles, she was but a woman still, 325 And his strength was to hers as an army, perforce must she do his will. Then the lad spake aloud, he hungered, from his hand was the lady free, And she quoth, 'Of a truth 'twere better thou shouldst not make meal of me! If thou wert but a little wiser thou wouldst choose thee some other meat, There stand bread and wine, and two game-birds, of them mayst thou freely eat, 330 Methinks when my maiden brought them, 'twas scarcely of thee she thought!' Then he asked not where sat the hostess, but he ate e'en as hunger taught, And he drank his fill; and the lady she deemed all too long his stay, For she thought him bereft of his senses, and she wished he were well away, And for fear and shame the sweat-drops stood thickly upon her brow-- 335 And she spake, 'Thou my ring shalt give me, and the clasp thou didst take but now, And get thee away, if he cometh, my husband, then shalt thou bear The weight of his wrath, and I think me thou wouldst then wish thyself elsewhere!'