Book IV · KONDWIRAMUR, part 2 of 8

¶Thro' want full sore they hungered, nor cheese, nor bread, nor meat Had they, and their teeth were idle since naught might they find to eat. 80 And their palate knew naught of the flavour of the wine-cup, or red or white, And their doublet hung loosely on them, and wasted each limb of might, And their skin like wrinkled leather on each rib hung gaunt and grim, For hunger their flesh had wasted and driven from every limb. Thro' want must they sorely suffer, little grease in their fuel ran-- 85 (A hero to this had forced them, the proud King of Brandigan, Thus they paid for Klamidé's wooing)--The mead might they seldom spill, For small was their store, I think me, the vessel or cup to fill. In Trühending oft shall ye hearken the hiss of the frying cake, In such music, methinks, but seldom the folk might their pleasure take! 90

¶(And if for such want I'ld mock them, then in truth must I share their shame, For there where I oft dismount me, where men do me 'Master' name, At home in mine house, with trouble e'en the mice shall their portion steal, Nor oft for their food be joyful! Nor need they the bread conceal, Unhidden, I scarce may find it--Yea, oft doth it happen so, 95 And I, Wolfram of Eschenbach, ofttimes such pleasure and ease may know.)

¶But enough of my lamentation, once more ye the tale shall hear How the city was full of sorrow, and for gladness they paid full dear. How these heroes, so rich in courage, must in need and in scarceness live, For so did the manhood bid them, to their need shall ye pity give-- 100 For their life stood in pledge, might He free it in Whose Hand all power shall be!-- Yet more of their grief would I tell ye that ye mourn for them bitterly, With shame their guest did they welcome, for they deemed him so rich and great That he craved not thro' need their shelter; he knew naught of their poor estate.

¶On the grass did they spread a carpet, where a linden was walled around, 105 And trained to a welcome shadow--'Neath its boughs they his arms unbound, And the vassals they took his harness; but other than theirs his face When he in the streamlet washed it, and cleansed it from red rust trace; Nay, the sunlight's rays were shamèd 'neath the glow of his beauty bright, And a worthy guest they thought him as they gazed on the gallant knight. 110 Then a mantle rich they brought him e'en like to the robe he bare, And new was the smell of the sable wherewith it was garnished fair.

¶Then they spake, 'Wilt thou look upon her, the queen, our lady true?' And the knight made answer straightway, that thing would he gladly do. To the palace they came, and the stairway steep and high to the portal led, 115 And the light of a fair face met him when his footsteps so far were sped. Of his eyes should she be the sweetness--There shone from that lady bright A radiant glow and dazzling, ere she welcomed the stranger knight. Now Kiot of Katelangen and Manfilot, Dukes the twain, Led hither their brother's daughter who as queen o'er this land did reign: 120 (For the love of God their harness, shield, and sword, had they put away These princes true and stalwart, fair of face tho' their hair was grey.) Midway adown the staircase all courteous the maid they led, And she kissed the gallant hero, and the lips of the twain were red; And she gave him her hand, and she led him, Sir Parzival, to the hall, 125 And they sat them adown together in the midst of the courtiers all.

¶And feeble and faint the maidens, and the knights who stood there around, And vassal alike and hostess, small joy in their life they found. Yet Kondwiramur, her beauty did high o'er all others stand, Were it Enid, or fair Jeschuté or Kunnewaaré of far Lalande, 130 Whoe'er men had deemed the fairest when they women's beauty weighed, Their fame to the earth was smitten by the glance of this royal maid. Yea, even the twain Isoldé, tho' men praise them evermore, They must yield the crown of beauty to the lady Kondwiramur. (And her name in our tongue betokens her shapely form and fair) 135 And well had they done, the mothers, who had borne such a goodly pair As these twain who sat here together, naught did they who stood around But gaze on the one and the other--Many friends had our hero found.

¶And the thoughts of the knight will I tell ye, 'There Liassé, Liassé here,-- God will free me from care since I see here Liassé that maiden dear 140 The child of a gallant father!'--Yet her fairness was naught I wot, 'Gainst her beauty who sat beside him, in whom God no wish forgot. (The maiden was queen of the country) Yea, e'en as by morning dew Refreshed, the rose from its calyx forth buddeth in beauty new, And is white and red together--And grief to her guest it wrought, 145 To whose courtesy naught was lacking since Gurnemanz' side he sought, And his words had from folly freed him; and had bidden him questions spare Save only where they were needful--So he sat by that lady fair, And never a word his lips spake, tho' he sat close the maid beside-- Yet to those who know more of woman such silence doth oft betide. 150

¶Then the queen to herself said softly, 'This man disdaineth me, He deemeth my fairness faded. Nay, perchance it yet may be That in this thing he doeth wisely, his hostess in sooth am I, And he is my guest, the first speech should be mine assuredly! Gently he looks upon me tho' never a word we speak, 155 And courteous hath been his bearing, 'twere well I the silence break; Too long have I yet delayed me since here side by side we sit.' To her guest did she turn, the maiden, and she spake as it seemed her fit:

¶'Sir Knight, it were well as hostess that the first words came from me, Since I wot well my kiss as hostess a greeting hath won from thee, 160 And thou offeredst me thy service, so my maiden hath borne me word, Our guests scarce are wont to do so, tho' the tidings I fain had heard. Now tell me, my guest, I prithee, since the tale I am fain to know, From whence art thou come to my kingdom, and whither thou yet wouldst go?' 'Lady, at early morning I rode from my host away, 165 A brave knight is he and faithful, yet he sorroweth sore to-day, And Prince Gurnemanz do men call him, in Graharz he holds command, From thence I to-day have ridden, thence came I unto this land!'