Book IX · TREVREZENT, part 2 of 16

¶Shall I joy compare with the sorrow that her faith to Siguné brought? Nay, 'twere better I speak not of it--O'er rough stones, and a road unwrought Rode Parzival to the window (he deemed well he rode too near). He would ask of the woodland pathway, and the goal of its windings hear. 70 And he thought him, perchance, the hermit might tell of the unknown way, 'Doth one dwell here?' the voice of a maiden it was that made answer,'Yea!' As he knew 'twas the voice of a woman, swift turned he his steed aside On the greensward beside the pathway, for he deemed he too near did ride, And sooner had he dismounted had he known that a maiden dwelt 75 Within such a lowly dwelling, and shame, as was meet, he felt.

¶Then his horse and his shield, all splintered, he bound to a fallen tree, And he loosed his sword from beside him, for a courteous knight was he. Then he stepped him unto the window, and asked of the place and road, And the cell of all joy was empty, and bare, as 'seemed grief's abode. 80 He spake, would she come to the window? and the maiden from prayer arose, She was tall as a virgin lily, and pale as a faded rose, And he deemed not as yet that he knew her--A shirt woven rough of hair, Next her skin, 'neath a flowing garment of grey, did the maiden wear, And sorrow was her heart's treasure, and fallen her courage high, 85 And the guerdon she won for her service must be paid her in many a sigh!

¶Then the maiden she stepped to the window and the knight did she courteous greet, In her hand did she hold her psalter, and her voice it was low and sweet. And Parzival saw on her white hand the gleam of a ring of gold, For truly she bare the token she won from true love of old. 90 And the stone set within the circlet was a garnet, whose slumbering light Flashed red mid the dusky shadows, as mid ashes the sparks glow bright. And the band that her head encircled was black as a mourning band-- Then she spake, 'Sir Knight, 'neath the window a bench shalt thou see to stand, Thou canst sit there, an it so please thee, and thy journey will brook delay, 95 God reward thee for this thy greeting Who hath led thee to me this day!'

¶Then the hero did as she bade him, and he sat 'neath the window small, And he prayed her, 'Sit thou within there!' 'Nay! ne'er did such chance befall That here by a man I sat me!' Then he asked her, what did she here? That, so far from the home of men-folk, thou dost dwell in this desert drear 100 Seemeth me all too great a wonder, say, Lady, how shalt thou live, Since no man abideth by thee who succour or food can give?'

¶Then she quoth, ''Tis the Grail that doth feed me, and It feedeth me well I ween, From Its marvels the sorceress Kondrie, (of her own will the task hath been,) Doth bring me each Sabbath vigil what serveth me for the week.' 105 A little space she kept silence, then further the maid did speak: 'An it otherwise were with me as I would, I need little care For the food, since the Grail doth feed me I never too ill shall fare!'

¶But he deemed that she lied unto him, and with false words would speak him fair, And, mocking, he spake,'Now, who gave thee that ring which I see thee wear? 110 For ever 'twas told unto me that hermit, or man, or maid, Must forswear all love!'--'Now I think me, if in truth thou these words hast said, For false maiden thou sure dost hold me! Yet if falsehood I ever learn, And thou shalt be near to witness, 'twere time then with wrath to burn! God knoweth, ill ways I hated, and falsehood I never knew; 115 This troth plight that here thou seest I had from a lover true, Tho' never was love's fulfilment our portion while he might live, 'Twas the heart of maiden bade me the love of a maiden give. And he lieth in death beside me, and his token I ever wear Since the day that Duke Orilus slew him--and grief for his sake I bear--' 120

¶'And true love will I truly give him, thro' my sorrow-laden days, Such love as I sware unto him, when he, whom, all knights must praise, With sword, and shield, and helmet, and prowess of knightly deed Sought my love, and in true love's service won death for his glory's meed! Yet tho' ever a spotless maiden, my husband he, in God's sight, 125 Shall be, and if thoughts God counteth as deeds then is woven aright The bond that shall ever bind us, true husband and wife as true, For his death wrought my life such sorrow as waxeth for ever new. And this ring shall, I ween, be my witness when I stand in the sight of God Of a marriage vow and the tear-drops that bedew it are tears of blood.' 130

¶'Yea, 'tis I indeed, and none other, and the hero who here doth lie Is my knight, Schionatulander, and the maid of his love am I!' Then he knew 'twas the maid Siguné, and her sorrow it wrought him pain, And he lifted his helmet's visor ere he spake to the maid again. And she saw his head uncovered, and she saw his face gleam white 135 Thro' the rust of the iron harness, and she spake to the gallant knight: 'Is it thou, Parzival, my kinsman? Dost thou seek for the Grail to-day? Or its mighty power hast thou proven? Say, whither dost wend thy way?'

¶Then he spake to the noble maiden, 'Alas! for my joy is fled, And the Grail hath but wrought me sorrow, and mischance in fair fortune's stead. 140 For the land that as king had crowned me must I leave, and yet more, I ween, The fairest of wives, and the sweetest, that ever a man hath seen. For no lovelier form I think me on earth of mankind was born, And I yearn for her tender greeting, and full sore for her love I mourn! And yet know I a deeper sorrow and I strive for a higher prize, 145 For the day when the Burg of Monsalväsch, and the Grail shall rejoice my eyes! Now, Siguné, dear my cousin, thou wast all too wroth with me, For heavy indeed my sorrow, yet thou fain wouldst my foeman be!'