Book V · ANFORTAS, part 7 of 10

¶Narrow and poor the trappings that lay on that charger's back, The saddle and bells were shattered, and much did the harness lack; And the lady was sad, not joyful, and her girth was a hempen cord, Yet, I ween, was her birth too noble in such guise to ride abroad. 530 By twigs and thorny branches tattered her shift and torn, And the rags had she knit together where'er it had been out-worn, But beneath her skin gleamed spotless, white as the swan's white wing; And naught but rags was her clothing--where they might some shelter bring There her skin was fair to look on, but elsewhere 'twas by sunburn dyed. 535 Yet her lips were red, tho' sorrow and want she must long abide, And so glowing and bright their colour a fire had ye kindled there, And where-e'er one would ride beside her on that side had ye found her bare. Yet of base degree to hold her were to do her a wrong, I ween, Tho' little had she upon her, yet guiltless she aye had been-- 540 (Of your courtesy shall ye heed me, she forgot not her womanhood) Of her poverty have I told ye, yet wherefore? If ye deem good Then this will I say, that ragged and bare I this dame would take O'er many a well-clad maiden, were it fitting my choice to make.

¶As Parzival bade her greeting, she saw him, and red she grew, 545 Of all men was he the fairest, small marvel his face she knew. Then she quoth, 'Once before have I seen thee, great grief have I won thro' thee: God grant to thee greater honour than thou hast deserved from me! Far other hath been my raiment when thou sawest me last, I wot, Hadst thou ne'er in that hour come near me then honour were still my lot!' 550

¶Then he spake, 'Now bethink thee, Lady, who thus should thy hatred claim, For never my hand, I think me, hath brought to a woman shame, (So had I myself dishonoured) since ever I bare a shield, Or thought upon deeds of knighthood, or hath striven in battle-field; Yet else am I sad for thy sorrow!' Then forth brake the tear-drops bright, 555 And ran fast adown her bosom, and over her breasts so white, So fair, and so softly moulded, that never might turner's skill, Tho' swiftly he wrought and rounded, his task in such wise fulfil. And so lovely was she in her sorrow his heart was to pity fain, And with hands and arms a cover from his glance did she strive to gain. 560

¶Then Parzival spake, 'Now, Lady, of true service from mocking free, In God's Name take thou here my surcoat, a covering 'twill be for thee.' 'Nay, Sir Knight, I may never take it, e'en tho' bliss I thereby should gain, Ride swift on thy way, I pray thee, an thou wouldst not we both were slain; Tho' my death it would little grieve me, if I fear me, 'tis for thy sake!' 565 'Say, Lady, who thus would wrong us? Who thinketh our life to take? 'Twas God's hand that gave it to us--Nay, were they an armèd host Who here for our life were thirsting, I would face them nor fear the cost!'

¶Then she spake, ''Tis a dauntless hero, so gallant in strife is he That heavy would be their labour if six should his foemen be; 570 (I would thou wert not beside me) I aforetime his wife had been, Yet so poor am I now and wretched, for his slave were I all too mean, Thus his wrath doth he wreak upon me.' To that lady he spake again, 'Say, who rideth here with thy husband? For if I to fly were fain, As here thou dost give me counsel, thyself sure wouldst deem it ill, 575 Ere of flight I have learnt the lesson I would die with a right good will!'

¶Then out spake the Duchess sadly, 'Alone with my lord I fare, But yet that may little serve thee, nor shall victory be here thy share.' And in rags was all her vesture, and naught but the hem untorn, Yet the crown of woman's honour in her poverty had she worn, 580 And her ways were ways of goodness, and falsehood afar had fled-- Then he bound afresh his visor and the helmet upon his head As one who to battle rideth--Then his charger aloft would rear, It was 'ware of the steed beside it, and its neigh rang out loud and clear; And he who a space before them on the woodland way would ride, 585 He hearkened the sound, and would see him who rode there by his lady's side. Then he turned his bridle wrathful by the side of the narrow way, And with lance in rest for jousting Duke Orilus rode that day, And manly, I ween, his bearing, from Gaheviess came his spear, And weapon alike and harness of one colour were blazoned clear. 590

¶His helmet, Trebuchet wrought it; the shield in distant Spain Was welded fair for the hero, King Kailet in that land doth reign, And strong were the rim and the centre--In Alexandria's city fair Was the costly pfellel woven that for surcoat and coat he ware. The covering of his charger at Tenabroc was it made 595 Of rings of steel close welded--And thus he his pride displayed, For over the iron cover lay a pfellel so fair to see, And all men who saw bare witness that costly its worth must be-- And gorget, and greaves, and headgear, tho' rich, yet their weight was light, And many a plate of iron it guarded this gallant knight; 600 In Beàlzenan was it fashioned, chief city of fair Anjou. (But she who rode bare behind him far other her garb to view, For in sooth might she find none better) from Soissons his breastplate came, But he won his gallant charger from the far-off lake Brimbane, In the mountains of Monsalväsch--Lähelein, his brother bold, 605 In a joust o'erthrew the rider, and the steed as his prize would hold.

¶And Parzival too was ready--his charger in onward flight 'Gainst Orilus of Lalande bare swiftly the gallant knight; And he saw on his shield a dragon, yea, e'en as it were alive, And another upon the helmet fast bounden did upward strive. 610 And many small golden dragons on surcoat and robe he bare, Enriched with many a jewel, and with red eyes of ruby fair. From afar would they make their onslaught, these dauntless heroes twain, No need to renounce their friendship, nor thro' kinship from strife refrain, Aloft flew the spears in splinters--Methinks I might vaunt me well 615 If I such a joust had witnessed as here in this wood befell!