Book III · GURNEMANZ, part 9 of 13

¶Thus alone from the court of King Arthur rode the son of Gamuret, And he came to the plain where the Red Knight his foeman awaited yet; And he bare unto him the tidings how in Nantes was there never a knight Whose heart yet yearned for jousting, or who lusted with him to fight. 695 'But a gift King Arthur gave me--I spake as thou saidst before, That without thy will had it chanced thee the wine o'er the queen to pour, Thy discourtesy sorely vexed thee--They think not to fight with thee. Now give me the steed thou ridest, and thine harness give thou to me, They were given me in the palace, therein shall I be a knight, 700 Wouldst withhold them, I will not greet thee--Yield thou what is mine of right!'

¶Then the King of Cumberland answered, 'If Arthur hath given to thee Mine armour, my life he gave thee, if that life thou canst take from me, So well doth he love his kinsmen! Hath he known thee before to-day, That so swiftly the service done him with such guerdon he would repay?' 705

¶'I may win what I will I trow me, of a sooth had he given me more; Now leave thou thy claim on his kingdom--'Tis time I a knight's shield bore For squire will I be no longer!' He laid on the rein his hand 'Thou art Lähelein, so I think me, who hath taken from me my land!'

¶Then the knight he turned his spear-shaft, and he struck with so true a blow 710 That the lad and his sorry charger on the meadow he laid them low, And the hero was swift in his anger, and he smote with a will so good That there where the spear-shaft struck him there sprang forth bright drops of blood. Then Parzival sprang up swiftly and stood wrathful upon his feet And he grasped his javelin firmly--Where the helm and the visor meet 715 And betwixt the twain is an opening, there the javelin swiftly sped And thro' eye and neck it struck him, and the knight on the plain lay dead. Fierce foe had he been to falsehood; women's sighs, true hearts wounded sore, Were the fruit of his death, and with tear-drops must many an eye run o'er. And they whom his love made joyful their gladness asunder brake, 720 And their joy to the goal of sorrow o'er a rough road its way must take.

¶Then Parzival in his folly turned the dead knight o'er and o'er, For fain would he loose his armour, yet was lacking the needful lore. He fingered both helm and corslet with his bare white hands alone, Yet the fastening he failed to loosen, nor with force might they be undone 725 Tho' oft and again he tried them, who in wisdom was all untaught. Then the horses they neighed so loudly that the sound on the breeze was brought To Iwanet's ear, and he heard them, by the city moat he stood, (To Queen Guinevere was he kinsman, and he did to her service good) He heard the cry of the horses, but naught of the riders saw, 730 As his true heart would give him counsel, Parzival did he seek once more.

¶And Ither lay dead; and his slayer by his folly was vexed amain-- Then swiftly he sprang to aid him, and Parzival thanks must gain For the honour he here had won him o'er the hero of Cumberland: 'God reward thee, but give me counsel for skill here doth fail mine hand, 735 How best may I loose this armour which myself I were fain to wear?' 'Such lore I right well may teach thee,' quoth Iwanet the proud and fair, So the armour was reft from the dead man, 'fore Nantes on the grassy plain, And they did it upon the living, o'er whose dealings did folly reign.

¶Quoth Iwanet, 'These leather leggings fit not with the mailèd gear, 740 As a knight shalt thou now be clothèd,' and the lad deemed it ill to hear; Quoth Parzival, 'What my mother aforetime hath given me That cometh not from my body, or for good or for ill it be!' And much did Iwanet marvel, for clever was he i' troth, Yet he followed perforce his bidding, nor waxed at his folly wroth. 745 And he drew above the leggings the hosen of shining mail, Nor the spurs with red gold in-wroughten should unto the harness fail, And of silk and gold the laces, nor leather might there be found. Ere he gave unto him the corslet he bound him with greaves around, And tho' o'er-long Parzival deemed it yet the time was swiftly sped, 750 Ere in knightly armour shining he clad him from foot to head. Then the lad would have ta'en his quiver, but Iwanet he spake out free, 'Nay, no javelin will I give thee, unknightly such arms shall be!' Then he girt the sharp sword around him, and he showed how to draw the blade, And he bade him ne'er fly in battle, nor in conflict to be dismayed. 755 Then nearer he led unto him the charger the dead knight rode, And 'twas tall and strong, yet the saddle the youth with one spring bestrode, He recked not the weight of his armour, and of stirrups had little need-- E'en to-day do men speak of his swiftness, and the fame of his mighty deeds.

¶Nor o'er-much did Iwanet think it to teach him with fitting skill 760 To hold his shield and to guard him, while he wrought to his foeman ill; And a spear in his hand he gave him--But Parzival turned aside, 'Nay, nay, what good may that do me?' 'If a joust one with thee would ride Thou shalt on thy foeman break it, perchance drive it thro' his shield, If thou doest that oft, 'fore the maidens will they praise thee for well-fought field.' 765

¶And this hath the venture told me,--Not in Maestricht, or e'en Cologne Might a painter so fair a picture as this lad and his steed have shown. Then straightway he spake to Iwanet, 'My friend and companion dear, The boon that I asked have I won me, of that art thou witness here. My service bear thou to the city, to Arthur the noble king, 770 And mourn unto him my shaming--This cup thou again shalt bring, And tell him a knight hath wronged me, since he smote that maiden fair Who looked, and who laughed upon me, and grief for her grief I bear. Nor hath it but lightly touched me, it hath pierced to my inmost heart This maid's woe all undeservèd--Now do thou in her shame have part 775 Thro' the friendship that thou hast shown me! God keep thee in peace alway, And watch o'er us twain, for I think me no longer I here may stay!'