Now perchance it were well I should tell ye, how, as this his folk did pray,

From Karid?l and his kingdom, King Arthur had ridden away.

And now the venture telleth, on his own and on stranger ground

For eight days long had they ridden, nor yet had the Red Knight found.

For in truth ’twas for him they were seeking, to honour his hand were fain,5

From sorrow had he released them, who had erst Prince Ither slain;

And Klamidé the king, and Kingron, in a welcome hour had sent

To the court of the Breton Monarch: for on this was King Arthur bent,

He would make him one of his circle, a knight of the Table Round,

No labour too great he counted, so the hero at last he found!10

Thus o’er mountain and vale they sought him—All who knightly shield might bear,

King Arthur now called around him, and in this wise he bade them swear:

What deeds so e’er of knighthood they should see, by this their oath,

They should on no conflict venture, but faithful still keep their troth,

As they sware unto him, their monarch, and fight but as he thereto15

Should give them leave—He spake thus, ‘Now, ’tis well! Since we needs must go

Thro’ many a stranger country, where many a stranger spear,

And many a gallant hero are waiting us, I fear,

If ye, like hounds untrainèd whose leash shall have slipped the hand

Of him who was late their master, shall roam free o’er all the land,20

Much evil might there befall ye, and such chance should but please me ill,

And by this your oath, I think me, such rashness I best may still.

Be ye sure and need ariseth, your king ne’er will say you Nay,

Till then, as I here command ye, ride peaceful upon your way.’

Now the oath, ye shall well have heard it—Now hear ye how Parzival,25

The Waleis, rode near unto them: thro’ the night did the snow-flakes fall,

Light they fell, yet lay thickly on him, yet if well I the tale may know,

And the singer aright hath sung it, it was never the time of snow;

For whate’er men have sung or spoken of King Arthur, at Whitsuntide,

Or when May-blossoms deck the meadow, these marvels did aye betide.30

For sweetly the springtide bloometh, and many a garb, I ween,

Shall it bear this song of my singing, tho’ snow-clad it now be seen.

The falconers from Karid?l, as the shadows of evening fell,

Rode, hawking, by Plimiz?l’s waters, when an evil chance befell,

For the best of their hawks flew from them, nor stooped to the lure again,35

But all night in the dusky shadows of the woodland it did remain.

With Parzival it sheltered; to the twain was the woodland way

A road unknown, sharp the frost stung, in the far east uprose the day,

And, lo! all around the hero, the snow-flakes lay thick and white:

Thro’ the forest paths untrodden, in ever waxing light,40

Rode our hero by hedge or thicket, by rock and by fallen tree,

Till clear grew the shadowy woodland, and its depths he well might see,

And a mighty tree of the forest had fallen where he would ride,

(The falcon yet followed after) ‘mid its clustering boughs he spied

A flock of wild-geese from the Northland, their hissing he first had heard,45

Swift swooped the falcon upon them and struck to the earth a bird:

And scarce might it fly the clutches of its foe, and fresh shelter take

‘Neath the shade of the fallen branches; in its flight from the wounds there brake

Three blood-drops, all glowing crimson, and fell on the spotless snow,

As Parzival’s eyes beheld them, swift sorrow his heart must know!50

Now hear ye his love so loyal—As he looked on these blood-drops bright,

That stained with a stain of crimson the snow-flakes that lay so white,

He thought, ‘Say what hand hath painted these colours that here I see?

Kondwiramur, I think well, these tints sure shall liken thee!

And white snow and blood-drops crimson, do ever thy likeness share,55

For this favour I praise God’s working, and the world he hath wrought so fair!

For in this wise I read the vision,—in this snow that so spotless lies,

‘Gainst the blood-drops, that ruddy-gleaming, glow crimson beneath mine eyes,

I find ever thy face so gracious, my lady, Kondwiramur,

Red as blood-drops and white as the snowdrift, it rejoiceth me evermore!’60

Then her sweet face arose before him, in that night she first sought his side,

When on each cheek a tear-drop glistened, and a third to her chin did glide.

And so true was his love and steadfast, little recked he of aught around,

But wrapped round in love and longing, saw naught but the blood-stained ground.

Frau Minne with force constrained him, as here on his wife he thought,65

And by magic of colours mystic, a spell on his senses wrought.

So held he him still, as sleeping—Would ye know who found him there?

The squire of fair Kunnewaaré would forth unto Lalande fare,

And as on his way he journeyed, by the woodland green he saw

A helmet all battle-dinted, and a shield which yet traces bore70

Of many a bitter conflict that was foughten for lady fair;

And a knight there abode in armour, and his lance he aloft did bear

As one who here patient waited the joust that he fain would ride.

The squire swiftly turned his bridle and back to the camp he hied.

Yet in sooth had he seen the stranger, and his lady’s champion known,75

He had ne’er been so swift to decry him, nor had wished he were overthrown,

Nor e’en as he were an outlaw, set the heroes upon his track:

The squire he of queen unfaithful, small wonder he knighthood lacked!

And in this wise he called upon them, ‘Fie! Fie! on ye, coward knights!

Hold ye not Gawain for a marvel? Have ye not in a hundred fights80

Won honour and fame as heroes, who fight for a hero king?

Know now that ye stand dishonoured, and broken your goodly ring!’

Ah! then there arose a clamour, and none but was fain to know

Of the deed of knightly prowess, that should shame their honour so.

When they heard how but one knight dared them, that but one knight a foe did wait,85

Then sorely they mourned the promise that they sware to their king of late.

Then Knight Segramor sprang swiftly from amid the angry throng,

He ran, for in sooth he walked not, and ever his heart did long

To be in the midst of conflict, where conflict might chance to be,

An they failèd with cords to bind him, in the thick of the fight was he!90

And nowhere the Rhine’s swift waters may flow so strong and wide,

Tho’ the stream should run swift between them, an men fought on the further side,

He stayed not to test the waters, if the current be hot or cold,

But straightway the stream he breasted, as fitted a swimmer bold!

Swift-foot to the tent of the monarch, the eager youth he sped,95

For the day was but yet in its dawning, and the king he lay yet abed.

Then straight thro’ the lists he hied him, and he gat him thro’ the door,

And the covering all of sable, with hasty hand he tore

From the twain who lay warm beneath it, and slumbered a slumber deep,

Yet his haste moved them but to laughter, tho’ he waked them from out their sleep!100

And loudly he cried on his cousin—‘Queen, Lady, Guinevere,

Since the world knoweth well our kinship, thou must do me this service here,

Speak thou for me to thine husband, and pray thou of him this grace,

Since a knightly venture nears us, my lot first the foe to face!’

Yet Arthur spake, ‘Now bethink thee of the oath thou didst swear to me,105

In all things my will to follow, nor rashly to venture thee;

For if thou a joust now ridest, hereafter shall many a knight

Crave leave at mine hand to ride forth, and seek for fame in fight,

And ’twere ill thus our force to weaken, for know thou that near at hand,

Anfortas of Monsalv?sch with a mighty host doth stand.110

This wood of his he guardeth, and since we but little know

Where he and his force shall hold them, such chance well might work us woe!’

Yet Guinevere wrought so wisely Segramor was well-nigh fain

To die of joy, from King Arthur, his lady this grace did gain.

And on fame and honour only was the gallant youth intent,115

Nor for gold had he sold the venture on which his heart was bent.

Now the hero young and beardless, well armed his steed bestrode,

And over the fresh young greensward his charger at full speed rode;

And the bushes were bent beneath him, and the golden bells rang clear

On trapping alike and armour; and I deem well an need were here120

To seek for the magic pheasant mid thicket and thorny brake,

He who fain this knight had followed, the bells for his guide might take!

Thus rashly rode the hero, to him whom Frau Minne’s spell

Fast fettered in magic fetters, and no blow at the first there fell,

For the peace by his word was broken—There held fast by threefold might,125

And the power of red blood-drops threefold stood ever the stranger knight.

(Yea, well I myself have known this, how Frau Minne with power may hold,

And holding, the senses scatter, and with passion of grief untold

Shall fill the heart to o’erflowing—’Twas a woman who wrought this ill,

And vanquished, she doth condemn me, and refuseth me comfort still.130

Thus draweth she guilt upon her, for the sin shall be hers, I ween,

And afar must I fly from the presence, that of old time my joy hath been.)

Thus Segramor quoth unto him, ‘Now it seemeth but ill to me

That thus near our army lieth, and our presence rejoiceth thee!

And thou holdest his fame too lightly, whom with pride we may hail our king,135

And ’tis meet thou for this do penance,—or the death-chime for me shall ring!

Thus armed, all too near thou ridest; yet first would I courteous pray

That thou yield thee at this my bidding, or my wrong will I here repay,

And my blow shall be swift, and thy falling shall scatter these snow-flakes white!

And I call on thee here to yield thee, ere I put thee to shame, Sir Knight!’140

Yet Parzival still kept silence—for Frau Minne, so fair and young,

In a sorer conflict held him—Then his steed Segramor swung

Aside, as for jousting ready, round wheeled him the war-horse good

On whose back the gallant hero yet sate in mystic mood,

And ever he gazed on the blood-drops; as his charger turned him round145

Awhile from his eyes they vanished, and fame in their stead he found!

For swift as the blood-drops crimson thus passed from his dazzled sight,

He hearkened the voice of the foeman, and braced him anew for fight.

Then as Segramor rode against him, Parzival sought afresh the spear

That he found by the woodland chapel, with blazon of colours clear;150

For tough was the shaft, and he gripped it, and he held the point full low,

As his foeman dashed fair against him, his shield rang with the ringing blow.

Then he spurred him anew to the onslaught, and the joust he so well repaid,

That the knight in his golden armour was low in the snowdrift laid!

Yet still was the spear unsplintered, tho’ it bare him from off his horse;155

And Parzival still kept silence, and he wheeled him upon his course,

And his eyes sought once more the blood-drops, and e’en as they met his sight

Frau Minne with fetters bound him, and held him in cords of might,

And he spake never word, nor question, but gazed ever upon the ground,

And, dreaming, he lost the knowledge which he for a space had found!160

But affrighted, the gallant charger had fled back into its stall,

And its rider arose, little comfort might he find, though he soft might fall!

Outstretched had he lain in the snowdrift, in such wise e’en as men shall go

To rest, yet but ill he sleepeth, who sleepeth on couch of snow!

And such bed had sorrow brought me! for he to whom ill betides165

Hath but mocking for his bedfellow, but the lucky doth God’s hand guide.

So near was King Arthur’s army, that right well might Parzival

Be seen of all men, and the wonders, and the conflict that then befell.

The victor by Love was vanquished, by Love that in days of old

Did the king of all kings the wisest, King Solomon, captive hold!170

Short space, then, ere back to the army once more Knight Segramor came,

An with praise or with blame they should greet him, he counted it still the same.

And sharp words he flung among them, with mocking tongue and bold,

Tho’ vanquished, yet not dishonoured, must they ever the hero hold!

And he quoth, ‘Have ye never heard this, that strife bringeth loss as gain?175

And never a joust, I wot me, but the victor doth one remain,

While one aye shall be the vanquished: The best ship in storm may sink,

And I wot that ye ne’er have heard me to speak, for I ne’er did think,

An he knew of my shield the blazon, he had faced me not as a foe!

Much evil, in sooth, hath he wrought me, and yet doth he wait below180

All those who would ride against him, for he seemeth for conflict fain,

An a knight should in joust o’erthrow him, such chance might he count for gain.’

Then straightway unto King Arthur Sir Kay did the tidings bring,

How his knight, Segramor, had fallen, and his victor, without their ring,

A young knight, for jousting ready, yet waited with ill intent—185

‘Nay, I think an this stranger warrior of so many unpunished went,

A burden both sore and shameful on our honour such lack would lay;

Now, my king, an thou hold me worthy, do thou grant me this grace, I pray,

I would ride hence to ask his meaning, who thus in the presence fair

Of our Queen Guinevere and her maidens his lance-point aloft doth bear;190

But if thou shouldst this boon refuse me, then know, not another hour

I abide here as this thy servant; for I hold that the knightly power

And the fair fame of thy Round Table are stainèd if we delay

To arm ourselves ‘gainst the stranger who dareth our strength to-day!

Now, I prithee, give leave to fight him—For tho’ blind and deaf were we,195

Yet ’tis time that we should defend us’—‘As thou willest, so let it be!’

Then swift did the seneschal arm him, and I ween in fierce anger’s fire

A woodland he fain had wasted ‘gainst the foe, who with strong desire

And love was thus sorely burdened; for Frau Minne a magic spell

Had wrought with the snow-flakes spotless, and the blood-drops that crimson fell.200

And his knighthood he sorely shamèd, who thought here to work him harm,

Since he faileth true Love to honour, who denieth of Love the charm.

Frau Minne, say, why dost thou make glad the souls that mourn

With bliss that too swiftly fleeting, but leaveth them more forlorn?

And how canst thou, Frau Minne, true worth and knightly fame,205

And manly strength and courage, thus vanquish and put to shame?

For the least is to thee as the greatest, and the earth shall no hero boast,

Who thinketh to scorn thine empire, but he learneth unto his cost

That thou canst, an thou wilt, o’erthrow him; yea, all men thy power obey,

For thy sceptre we own as mighty, and wide as the world its sway.210

Yet this one thing it doth thee honour, tho’ thou rulest all else but ill,

Joy maketh her dwelling with thee, and for this would I praise thee still!

Frau Minne, alas! of old time full false were thy ways, I ween,

Nor hast thou thy dealings mended, nor to-day hast thou truer been,

Thou hast many a maiden shamèd, who love forbidden sought;215

Thro’ thy dealings, upon the vassal, his lord hath sorrow brought;

And the friend shall false and faithless to the friend of his bosom prove,

And the servant betray his master; such deeds do but shame thee, Love!

And I would that it were far from thee, the body to yield to lust,

In such wise that the soul ashamèd is stricken with sorrow’s thrust,220

And that with force compelling, the young thou makest old,

Though their years but few be counted, this must we for treason hold!

Such speech, I ween, beseems not the man who in serving thee

Hath comfort found! If succour thine hand ever brought to me,

I had been less slow to praise thee, but sorrow and loss alone225

Hast thou counted to me as guerdon, and such glamour thine art hath thrown

O’er mine eyes, that, methinks, henceforward I trust thee never more,

Though small profit it brought unto thee, the bitter grief I bore!

And yet too high above me art thou, that whate’er my wrong,

I should e’en as a fool upbraid thee with bitter words and strong:230

For thy spear too sharply pierces, and scarce may we bear the weight,

Thou layest at will upon us—Methinks he who sang of late,

‘Neath a tree, of thy mystic dealings, and thy wondrous ways of old,

Had better done had he told us how we thy grace might hold!

(Heinrich of Veldeck was he, and he taught us, I ween, right well235

Of the winning of Love, of its guarding, alas! he failed to tell.)

For oft one thro’ folly loses the prize that he late did win;

Yea, to me hath such fate befallen, yet Frau Minne, thine was the sin!

Since all wisdom shall be thy portion, since against thee nor spear, nor shield,

Nor charger, nor guarded fortress their vaunted power can wield,240

I know not what shall withstand thee, nor on earth, nor on the sea!

He who feareth to face thy conflict, say whither shall he flee?

’Twas thy mystic power, Frau Minne, that dealt thus with Parzival,

And reft him awhile of knowledge, and wrought with him as a fool.

For fair was the queen and gracious who reigned in far Pelrap?r,245

And she thought on her lord and husband, and she made thee her message bear.

And for this cause Kardeiss her brother, hast thou for thy payment slair,

And since thou such tribute askest, ’tis well that I ne’er have ta’en

From thine hand aught of good, since in such wise thou dost for thy debtors care—

This I spake for the sake of all men—List ye now how Sir Kay did fare:250

Now he rode forth in knightly armour to the strife that he sore did crave,

And Gamuret’s son, right willing, to his wish fulfilment gave.

And wherever fair maids compelling, their voices uplift in prayer,

And the grace they shall ask be granted, let them pray here for his welfare,

Since it was thro’ a woman’s beauty, that the spell of a woman wrought255

Love’s magic, of senses robbed him—Then his charger to halt Kay brought;

And he spake to the gallant Waleis, ‘Sir Knight, since thou thus our king

Hast shamed, thou shalt hear my counsel, for wisdom perchance ’twill bring;

Thou shalt hang thee a hempen halter around thy neck straightway,

For so may I lightly lead thee, and take thou with me thy way.260

Nor think thou, thou canst escape me, but with me unto my lord

Shalt thou go, as befits a captive, else worse may be thy reward!’

By love constrained, the Waleis nor word nor answer spoke,

Kay gripped his spear-shaft tightly and he smote with a mighty stroke

On the hero’s head, till the helmet rang loudly beneath his hand;265

And he quoth, ‘Now will I awake thee! Dost think here to take thy stand,

And standing sleep unsheeted? Nay, other shalt thou fare,

Low on the snow I’ll lay thee! The ass that is wont to bear

The sack from the mill would rue it, did one smite him in such wise,

As here I think now to smite thee, and thy sloth and thy sleep chastise!’270

Frau Minne, now bethink thee, for sore this shameth thee,

For an one should wrong a peasant, in this wise his speech will be,

‘My lord will sure repay thee!’ Vengeance from thee he’ld seek

Methinks, this gallant Waleis, an thou wouldst let him speak!

Now let him from out thy circle, and loose him from thy ban,275

This stranger guest shalt prove him, a true and valiant man!

Swift rode Sir Kay unto him, and he turned his bridle round,

And no more his longing glances their joy and their sorrow found,

The white snow and blood-drops crimson, that mystic likeness bare

To the queen of his love and his longing, the Lady of Pelrap?r;280

He knew all that passed around him—His charger Sir Kay addrest

To jousting, he spurred him onward, and his spear he laid in rest.

In the joust, that which Kay had aimed at he smote, for his spear did pierce

The Waleis’ shield, yet swift payment was his, for in onslaught fierce

The seneschal of King Arthur fell prone on the fallen tree,285

Where the geese erewhile had hid them, and hurt full sore was he,

And dead lay his gallant charger—”Twixt a stone and the saddle-bow,

Right arm, and left leg had he broken—so mighty his overthrow

That all that had decked his charger, girths, saddle, bells of gold,

By the force of the fall were shattered, thus the stranger his payment told,290

And with one blow, for twain repaid him—the one that erst for his sake,

A maiden had borne and the other, which he from Kay’s hand must take.

Thus he who knew naught of falsehood was guided of truth to know

Her message in blood-drops threefold, on the white of the drifted snow.

’Twas tear-drops, not blood, that he saw there, and well might his senses fail,295

And the thoughts of his heart wax heavy, as he mused on the wondrous Grail,

And sorely the semblance grieved him that spake of his wife and queen.

Yet tho’ o’er the twain he sorrowed, the greater woe, I ween,

Was the woe that Frau Minne wrought him, for there liveth not heart so strong,

But longing and love united break its power, ere the time be long.300

Count we here those twain as ventures? Nay, ’twere better methinks to hold,

That they were naught but pain and sorrow, that vanquished the hero bold.

Now ye unto whom I tell this, I rede ye to mourn Kay’s woe,

For full oft as his manhood bade him, he many a strife did know.

And in many a land they speak thus, that Kay, Arthur’s seneschal,305

Was a firebrand, hell-born, yet I wot well far other the tale I’ld tell.

From reproach would I gladly free him, tho’ few but should say me nay,

Yet a gallant man and a worthy, I swear was this knight, Sir Kay.

And my mouth to this truth beareth witness, and more would I tell to thee;

Unto Arthur’s Court came strangers in many a company,310

And their manners and ways were diverse, nor all there might honour claim,

But Kay an he saw false dealing, he counted such ways as shame,

And his face he turned from the sinner, yet he who dealt courteously,

And true man with true men would hold him, Kay served him right heartily.

And one who fall well discernèd the manner of men was Kay,315

Thus he did to his lord good service, for his harsh words drave far away

The men who would falsely vaunt them good knights and true to be,

Ill was he to them as a hailstorm, sharp as sting of an angry bee.

Small wonder that these deny him his honour and knightly fame,

True servant and wise they found him, and for this cause upon his name320

Their hatred doth still heap slander—Prince Herman, Thuringia’s lord,

Thou with vassals that crowd around thee, and strangers who seek thy board,

Good service might Kay have done thee, since so free art thou aye of hand,

That true men and men dishonoured, side by side in thine hall they stand;

And therefore Knight Walter singeth, ‘Now greeting to all I bring,325

Men evil and good!’ And I trow well, where a singer such song may sing,

There the false are too highly honoured—Nay, far other Sir Kay had taught,

(Yea, and Heinrich of Rispach also)—Now hearken ye in what sort

On Plimiz?l’s plain men bare them; from the field Sir Kay was borne

To the tent of his king, and around him, o’er his ill-fate his friends did mourn;330

And maiden and knight they stood there; to the tent where his comrade lay

Came Gawain, and he quoth in sadness, ‘Alas! for the woeful day

That so ill a joust was ridden that hath robbed me of a friend!’

Then out spake Kay in his anger, ‘Now make of thy moan an end,

If comfort thou here wouldst bring me, do not as the women do,335

Since thou art my monarch’s nephew! I would do to thee service true,

As of free heart I ever did it, in the day that God gave me power,

Nor long for my aid hadst thou prayed me! There cometh, perchance, an hour

When I, as of old, may serve thee: now cease thou thy moan I pray,

For tho’ mine be the pain, yet my monarch shall ne’er find another Kay,340

And I wot that for mine avenger art thou all too nobly born;

An yet hadst thou lost a finger I had counted myself forsworn

An I risked not mine head to pay it! Let that be as it may,

Believe me or not, as shall please thee, yet sooth are the words I say!’

‘No joust shalt thou ride at my urging, for roughly he greets his foe,345

Who holdeth without his station, and rideth nor swift nor slow.

And I think me, of maidens’ tresses, tho’ frail be such cord and fair,

Enough from such strife to bind thee, the chain of a single hair!

And the man who shall show such meekness, he well doth his mother love,

Since his sire would fain in the conflict his knightly mettle prove.350

But follow thou aye thy mother, Sir Gawain, list well her rede.

Turn thou pale at the glancing sword-blade, and shrink from the manly deed!’

And thus on the gallant hero the bitter words he spake

Fell sharply, he looked not for them, nor on Kay might he vengeance take,

Full seldom a knight may do so, since shame on his lips setteth seal,355

But they who thus speak discourteous, such shame shall they never feel.

Then Gawain he quoth in answer, ‘Where men knightly sword might bear,

And have foughten, and I fought with them, then no man beheld me there,

And saw that my cheek waxed paler at sight of wound or blow.

I was ever thy friend—’twas needless that thou shouldst reproach me so!’360

Then he strode from the tent, and he bade them bring hither his charger good,

Nor spur on his heel he buckled, unarmed he his steed bestrode.

So came he unto the Waleis (whose sense was of love held fast),

And his shield to all eyes bare witness of three spears thro’ its circle passed,

For three jousts of late had he ridden, and he rode them with heroes twain,365

Of Orilus too was he smitten—Then gently uprode Gawain,

And he spurred not his steed to gallop, nor conflict nor strife he sought,

For he rode but in love and in kindness, to seek him who here had fought.

Fair spake Gawain the stranger, to greeting deaf was he,

Frau Minne yet held him captive, how other might it be?370

True son of Herzeleide, to this lot was he born,

To lose himself for love’s sake; such passion as had torn

The hearts of these his parents, afresh in his heart awoke,

And but little his ear might hearken what the mouth of Gawain spoke.

Quoth King Lot’s son unto the Waleis,’ Sir Knight, here thou doest ill375

In that thou withholdest greeting—tho’ patient I wait thy will

Far otherwise can I bear me! Know thou that to friend and king,

Yea, to all whom I count my fellows, thy deed doth dishonour bring,

And our shame ever waxeth greater; yet prayed I for thee this grace,

The king of free heart forgives thee, if now thou shalt seek his face.380

So hearken, I pray, my counsel, and do thou as I shall say,

And ride thou with me to King Arthur, nor too long shalt thou find the way.’

Nor threatening nor prayer might move him, this fair son of Gamuret:

Then the pride of King Arthur’s knighthood his memory backward set,

And he thought of Frau Minne’s dealings, and the time when the knife’s sharp blade385

He drave thro’ his hand unwitting, thro’ the love of a gracious maid.

And that time when from death’s cold clutches, a queen’s hand had set him free,

When of L?helein was he vanquished, and captive in joust was he,

And a queen in the day of his danger must pledge her fair life for his,

And her name shall of men be praisèd, Queen Ingus of Bachtarliess.390

Thought Gawain, ‘It may be Frau Minne dealeth so with this goodly man,

As she dealt with me of old time, so claspeth him in the ban

Of her magic spells fair-woven, that his spirit within the snare

She holdeth fast entangled’—Then his eyes on the snow-flakes fair

He cast, and he knew the token, and swift from the spell-bound sight395

With cloth of fair silk and sendal, he covered the blood-drops bright.

The blood-stained snow was hidden, nor longer its spell was seen,

And his sight and his sense unclouded she gave him, his wife and queen;

Yet his heart did she hold in her keeping, and its dwelling was Pelrap?r,

And he cried aloud in his sorrow thro’ the silent summer air;400

‘Alas! who of thee hath robbed me, who erewhile wast my queen and wife,

For thy love, thy crown, and thy kingdom my right hand hath won in strife.

Say, say, am I he who saved thee from Klamidé the warrior king?

Yea, sorrow and bitter sighing, and grief that the heart doth wring

Are the guerdons I won in thy service, and now from mine eyes be-dazed405

Art thou reft, and thy place I know not, tho’ but now on thy face I gazed.’

Then he quoth, ‘Now, where shall my spear be, since I wot well I brought it here?’

Quoth Gawain, ‘A joust hast thou ridden, and splintered shall be thy spear.’

‘With whom should I joust?’ quoth the Waleis, ‘thou bearest nor sword nor shield,

And little had been mine honour, an thou to my hand didst yield!410

Yet bear I awhile thy mocking, nor will I thy friendship pray,

Tho’ many a joust have I ridden, yet my saddle I kept alway.

An thou be not for jousting minded, and I find not in thee a foe,

Yet the world lieth wide before me, and hence on my way I go;

For labour and strife am I seeking and fain would I win me praise,415

Be anguish or joy my portion; nor unfruitful shall be my days.’

Quoth Gawain, ‘What I spake aforetime I spake of true heart and free,

Nor my thoughts were the thoughts of evil, for well would I deal with thee;

And the boon that I crave will I win me, my monarch with many a knight

Lieth here at hand with his army, and with many a lady bright,420

An it please thee, Sir Knight, to betake thee to our goodly company,

From all strife shall this right hand guard thee, and gladly I’ll ride with thee.’

‘I thank thee, Sir Knight, fair thou speakest, yet say ere with thee I ride,

Who the monarch may be whom thou servest? and who rideth here at my side?’

‘A man do I hail as master, thro’ whose fame much fame I won,425

Nor here shall my mouth keep silence on the things he for me hath done.

For dear hath he ever held me, and as true knight did me entreat:

(His sister King Lot hath wedded, and the twain I as parents greet.)

And the good gifts God gave unto me, to his service I yield them all,

For my hand and my heart he ruleth, whom men do King Arthur call.430

Nor mine own name need here be hidden, nor a secret shall long remain,

For the folk and the lands that know me, they call on me as Gawain:

And fain would I do thee service, alike with my hand and name,

If thou turnest here at my bidding, nor bringest upon me shame!’

Then he quoth, ‘Is it thou, O Gawain? too little I yet have done435

That thou shouldst as a friend entreat me; yet hast thou this honour won

That all men thou gently treatest—and thy friendship I here will take,

Yet not for mine own deserving, but repayment I fain would make.

Now say where thine army lieth, since so many tents I see

That stand fair by the brink of the river? If King Arthur in truth shall be440

So near, then must I bemoan me, that in honour I may not dare

To enter his royal presence, or look on his queen so fair.

Since ’tis meet that I first avenge me of a foul and discourteous blow,

For which, since the day I left them, I sorrow and shame must know.

For a maiden as she beheld me, laughed sweetly, the seneschal445

For my sake smote the maid so sorely, ’twas a wood that upon her fell.’

‘Rough vengeance thou here hast taken! (Gawain to the Waleis spake)

Since thou in a joust hast felled him, and right arm and left leg he brake.

Ride here, see his charger lifeless, that lieth the stone below;

On the snowdrift behold the splinters of the spear that hath dealt the blow!450

’Tis the spear thou but now wast seeking!’ Then the truth knew Sir Parzival,

And straightway he spake unto Gawain, ‘Now, if this be the seneschal,

And the man who so sorely shamed me, if thou swear me that this was he,

Thou mayst ride where thou wilt, and gladly will I ride in thy company!’

‘Nay, never a lie do I tell thee,’ quoth Gawain, ‘thou hast overthrown455

Segramor, who ere now in battle was ever as victor known,

He fell ere yet Kay had met thee: great deeds hast thou done to-day,

Since o’er two of our bravest heroes the prize thou hast borne away.’

So rode they, the one with the other, the Waleis and Knight Gawain,

And the folk, both afoot and on horseback, with honour would greet the twain,460

Gawain and his guest the Red Knight, this did they of courtesy,

And the twain to his fair pavilion they gat them right speedily.

And the lady, fair Kunnewaaré, whose tent by Gawain’s did stand,

Rejoiced, and she joyful greeted the hero, whose strong right hand

Had failed not to wreak stern vengeance for the ill that Kay wrought that day;465

Then her brother and fair Jeschuté she led by the hand straightway,

And Parzival looked upon them as the three to his tent drew near,

And his face, thro’ the rust of his armour, it shone ever fair and clear,

As roses dew-dipped had flown there: his harness aside he laid,

And he stood before Kunnewaaré, and thus spake the gentle maid:470

‘To God shalt thou first be welcome, as welcome thou art to me,

Since thy manhood thou well hast proven, and the faith that I had in thee!

Ere the day that my heart beheld thee, nor laughter nor smiles I knew,

And Kay, who in that hour smote me, with stern hand my gladness slew.

But now hast thou well avenged me! With a kiss I thy deed would pay,475

If I of thy kiss were worthy!’ ‘Nay, so had I thought to-day

To crave of thy lips my payment,’ quoth Parzival, ‘if thou still

Wilt give me such gracious greeting, right gladly I’ll do thy will!’

Then she kissed him, and down they sate them, and the princess a maiden sent

And bade her to bring rich raiment; so sped she unto the tent;480

And the garments they lay there ready, of rich silk of Nineveh,

For her prisoner, King Klamidé, had she fashioned them cunningly.

Then the maiden who bare the garments, full sorely must she bewail

That the mantle was yet unfinished, since the silken cord did fail.

Then the lady, Kunnewaaré, from her side drew a silken band485

From the folds of her robe, in the mantle she wove it with skilful hand.

Then courteous her leave he prayed him, the rust would he wash away,

And fair shone his face, and youthful, and his lips they were red that day.

And robed was the gallant hero, and so bright and so fair was he,

That all men who there beheld him, they sware he for sure must be490

The flower and the crown of manhood, a knight without shame or fear;

And they looked upon him, and they praised him and his colour waxed bright and clear,

And right well did his garb become him; an emerald green and rare,

The gift of fair Kunnewaaré, as clasp at his neck he bare;

And a girdle beside she gave him, all wrought in a cunning row495

With mystic beasts, bejewelled, that burnt with a fiery glow,

And its clasp was a red-fire ruby—How think ye the beardless youth

Was seen when thus richly girded? Fair was he in very sooth,

For so the story runneth—the folk bare him right goodwill,

Men and women who looked upon him, they counted him worthy still.500

Forthwith, as the Mass was ended, came Arthur the noble king,

And the knights of his Table with him, a goodly following.

No man there whose lips spake falsehood. Yea, all heard the word that day,

‘With Gawain the Red Knight dwelleth!’ the king thither took his way.

Then the knight who so sore was beaten came swiftly, Sir Antanor,505

For, fain to behold the Waleis, his feet sped the king before,

And he asked, ‘Art thou he who avenged me, and the lady of fair Lalande?

Now vanished shall be Kay’s honour, for it falleth unto thine hand,

And an end hast thou made of his threatening, and the days of his strife are o’er,

For his arm it is weak, and his vengeance I fear for it never more!’510

And so fair was the knight and radiant, that all men beheld his face

As an angel from heaven, that wingless, abideth on earth a space.

And well did King Arthur greet him, and his knights were no whit behind,

And all they who looked upon him, naught but love in their hearts might find,

And their lips to their heart made answer, and all spake to his praises, ‘Yea,’515

And no man gainsaid the other, so lovely his mien that day!

Then Arthur spake fair unto him, ‘Thou hast wrought me both joy and pain,

Yet ne’er from the hand of a hero such honour I thought to gain

As the honour that thou hast brought me! yet no service I did to thee,

An I did, then thy fame had repaid it, tho&r............