Parzival

by Wolfram von Eschenbach

  Gawan, Sangive and Queen Arnive were sitting quietly beside the dancing company. The lovely Duchess came and sat next to Gawan. He took her hand in his, and they talked of one thing and another. Gawan was glad she had joined him. His sadness dwindled, his happiness was in spate, with the result that his sorrows all vanished away. However great the pleasure of the dancers, Gawan’s was greater still.

  ‘Give a thought to your comfort, sir,’ said Queen Arnive. ‘You ought to rest your wounds now. If the Duchess has decided to be mistress of your coverlet and bear you company this very night, she will prove bountiful in aid and remedies.’

  ‘You ask her that,’ replied Gawan. ‘I am in the hands of you both.’

  ‘I will have him in my care,’ said the Duchess. ‘Have these people go to bed. I shall tend him better tonight than any lover ever tended him. Let Florant of Itolac and the Duke of Gowerzin be looked after by the knights.’

  The dance came to a sudden end. Young ladies with radiant faces were sitting here and there with knights alternately, and if one of these sued for noble love and met with a sweet response, his happiness got even with his sorrows. Their host was heard calling for drink to be served to them, much to the regret of suitors. Yet the host was a suitor as much as his guests, he too was burdened by love, and to him they seemed to be sitting there too long. – Noble love was racking his heart too!

  This drink was their dismissal. Squires led the knights away, lighting them with twists of candle-dips. Then my lord Gawan commended his two guests Lischois and Florant to them all, much to their liking. Then without delay the two retired to rest. The Duchess was mindful to wish them good night. And now with elegant inflexions in which they were well versed, the entire company of ladies withdrew to seek repose. Sangive and Itonje left, as did Cundrie.

  Bene and Arnive then saw to it that his lordship was comfortable, and the Duchess too took care to be at hand to assist him. These three led him away to his ease. In a chamber, Gawan saw two couches standing on one side. Now I shall not tell you how these were adorned, the tale is approaching other matters.

  ‘Now make this knight whom you have brought here very comfortable,’ Arnive told the Duchess. ‘If he asks your help, the help you give will do you honour. I will say no more to you than that his wounds have been bandaged so skilfully that he could now bear arms. Nevertheless, you should sympathize with him in his plight: if you can soothe his pain that would do him good. If you can raise his mettle, that will benefit us all. Now go to it with a will.’

  After taking leave of her lord, Arnive left, with Bene bearing a light before her.

  Gawan barred the door.

  If these two know how to steal love now, I am loth to conceal it. I can easily tell you what happened there, except that those who divulge secret matters have always been accused of impropriety, and well-bred people still deplore it, so that one who does so damns himself. Let decorum be the lock that guards Love’s rites.

  Now imperious Love and the fair Duchess had caused Gawan’s happiness to be quite consumed. But for his lover he would have perished. If the philosopher, and all who ever sat them down and fathomed abstruse arts, Kancor and Thebit,* and Trebuchet the Smith (who engraved Frimutel’s sword, source of a great marvel), and the physicians with all their skill – if all these had wished him well with concoctions of efficacious herbs, his sharp distress would have ended in bitter death nevertheless, but for a woman’s company!

  I will make it short. He found the authentic hart’s eye† which helped to make him well again so that all that was baneful left him – a herb showing brown against white. A Briton on his mother’s side, Gawan fil li roy Lot sought soothing balm for bitter pain with noble aid to good effect till day dawned. Yet the aid he had was of such a kind that it was kept hidden from all that company. Later he saw to the well-being of all the knights and ladies, so that their sadness was all but banished.

  Now hear how the squire fared whom Gawan had dispatched towards Bems-on-Korcha in the land of Lover.

  King Arthur and his Queen were there, accompanied by a bevy of dazzling ladies and a veritable flood of courtiers. Now listen to what the squire does.

  It was early of a morning when he took his errand in hand. The Queen was in chapel reading her psalter on bended knee. The squire knelt before her and offered her a joyful gift. She took the letter from his hand and saw writing on it which she recognized before the youth she saw kneeling there could name his lord.

  ‘A blessing on the hand that wrote you!’ said the Queen addressing the letter. ‘I have not been without anxiety since the day I last saw the hand that formed this writing.’ She wept abundantly and nevertheless was glad. ‘You are Gawan’s squire?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, Ma’am. He sends you what is his to send: unswerving loyalty, and with it news of small joy, unless you have a mind to make it great. His honour was never at such a wretched pass. My lady, he sends you further news: he would live a life of noble pleasure if he were told that you would console him. You can easily see from the letter more than I can tell you.’

  ‘It is clear to me,’ she said, ‘for what purpose you have been sent. I shall do him noble service by bringing him a delightful bevy of ladies who, believe me, excel all others of my time. Excepting Parzival’s wife, and Orgeluse, I know none of such quality in Christendom. Since Gawan rode away from Arthur, I have been violently assailed by fear and sorrow. Meljanz of Liz told me he had seen him since at Barbigœl. Alas, Plimizœl,’ she continued, ‘that my eyes ever lighted on you I What sorrow befell me there! I never saw Cunneware de Lalant again, my sweet and noble companion. Many things were said there which breached the code of the Table Round. It is four and a half years and six weeks‡ since noble Parzival rode out from the Plimizœl in search of the Gral. At that same time Gawan, noble man, set out for Ascalun. It was there that Jeschute and Ekuba said farewell to me. Deep regrets for those worthy people have since disturbed my peace of mind.’ The Queen confessed to having many sorrows.

  ‘Now do as I say,’ she told the squire. ‘Leave me and keep out of sight till the sun is well up and everyone – knights, squires and the Great Household – are in and about the court. Then briskly trot up to the courtyard and without bothering who holds your horse, hurry from there to where the noble knights are standing. They will ask you for news. In what you say or do behave as though you had just escaped from a fire so that they will scarce control their impatience to learn what news you bring. What does it matter if you elbow your way through the crowd to the rightful lord, who will not forbear to welcome you? Hand him this letter. From it he will quickly learn your news and your master’s wishes. These he will grant by common consent. And I will tell you more. You are to address me publicly where I and other ladies can see and hear you. Try to win us over to the best of your ability, if you wish your master well. And tell me, where is Gawan?’

  ‘That will not be divulged,’ said the squire. ‘I shall not say where my lord is, but, by your leave, he dwells amid joys and pleasures!’

  The lad was content with the Queen’s instructions. He left her in the way you have heard and returned as he had been told to do.

  Punctually at mid-morning the squire rode up to court as publicly as could be. The courtiers judged his clothes to be those of a squire. His horse was gashed by the spur on both flanks. Following the Queen’s instructions, he at once leapt down from his horse and was surrounded by a milling crowd. If his mantle, sword and spurs – not to mention his horse – went astray, he cared but little. He hastened to where the noble knights were standing, and they at once asked him for news. People say that it was the time-honoured custom there that no man or woman dined at court before the court was paid its due: news of strange adventures fully worthy of the name!

  ‘I shall tell you nothing,’ said the squire. ‘I have urgent business. Of your courtesy, do not be offended, but kindly tell me where me King is. I should have liked to speak with him sooner. I am on tenterhooks to discharge my mission. You w
ill no doubt learn the news I shall tell. Then may God move you to help and sympathy!’

  The squire’s mission pressed on him so hard that he did not care who jostled him till the King saw him and welcomed him. He handed Arthur that same letter, which, as Arthur read it, could not fail to evoke conflicting emotions of happiness and sorrow.

  ‘A blessing on this sweet day,’ he cried, ‘by whose light I have learned that reliable news of my noble nephew has reached us! If it lie in my power to do manly service, and if loyalty to the ties of blood and companionship avail me, I shall do as Gawan asks me in this message! Tell me,’ he went on, ‘is Gawan in good spirits?’

  ‘Yes, Sire, by your leave, he has Joy itself for companion,’ replied that politic squire. ‘But if you abandoned him he would lose his honour. Indeed, who could be happy in such circumstances? Your aid will snatch him up to heights of happiness, your support will chase his cares from his heart and out beyond Sorrow’s gate! He sends his devotion to the Queen all this way, and it is his wish that the Company of the Table Round remember his past services and bethink themselves of their loyalty, and refrain from spoiling his happiness and on the contrary advise you to come.’

  All those nobles asked the King to comply.

  ‘Take this letter to the Queen, dear friend,’ said Arthur. ‘Let her read it and say why we should rejoice and of what we should complain. To think that King Gramoflanz can confront my family with such saucy arrogance! He imagines my nephew Gawan to be another Cidegast, his slaying of whom has brought him trouble enough! I shall add to his troubles and teach him better manners!’

  The squire went to where he was well received. He gave the Queen the letter which caused many eyes to brim over when her sweet lips had read all that was written in it about the wrong Gawan complained of and his request to them. The squire spared no art in his efforts to win over all those ladies, nor was it in vain.

  Gawan’s kinsman the mighty Arthur ardently sought his Household’s approval for this expedition. Nor was courteous Ginover guilty of losing any time in trying to persuade the ladies in favour of the proud sortie!

  ‘Was there ever born so fine a man – did I dare believe it – as Gawan of Norway?’ asked Keie testily. ‘After him! Seize him! But maybe he’s somewhere else? If he dodges like a squirrel you’ll soon have lost him!’

  ‘I must hurry back to my lord, Ma’am,’ said the squire to the Queen. ‘Pursue his interest with all the advantage your station affords.’

  ‘See to this squire’s comfort,’ she commanded one of her chamberlains. ‘Take a look at his horse. If its flanks are much gouged with spurring give him the best to be had on the market. If he has any other needs – of ready money to redeem bond, or of clothes – he is to be supplied. Now give Gawan my humble respects,’ the Queen continued. ‘I shall excuse your departure to the King – and give your master his compliments.’

  And so the King went ahead with his expedition, with the result that the constitution of the Table Round was duly honoured that day. The news they had learnt that noble Gawan was still alive had roused their spirits. The solemn custom of the Table Round was observed there in all harmony. The King sat at the Table together with those who were entitled to sit there for having won fame as the reward of their endeavours. All those Knights of the Table Round derived pleasure from this news.

  Now let the squire return whose message has been heard. He set out betimes. The Queen’s chamberlain gave ready money, a mount and change of clothes. He rode off happily; for what he had achieved with Arthur meant that Gawan’s fears were over. He arrived back after I cannot truly say how many days.

  At Schastel marveile, Arnive was delighted, since the Gatekeeper had sent to tell her that the squire had returned in excellent time, after taxing his mount to the full. Arnive went unseen to waylay him where he was being admitted to the Castle. She asked him about his journey and to which place he had ridden out.

  ‘It shall remain unsaid, Ma’am,’ answered the squire. ‘I dare not tell you. I am bound by oath not to reveal it. My lord would be displeased if I were to break my oath by telling and would think me lacking in discretion. Ask him about it yourself, my lady.’

  She tried to corner him with question after question, but this is what the squire replied. ‘You are detaining me to no purpose, Ma’am. I shall do as my oath commanded me.’

  He went and found his master. Florant the Turkoyt, the Duke of Gowerzin and the Duchess of Logroys were sitting there among a great company of ladies. The squire went up to them. Gawan rose to his feet, took him aside and welcomed him back.

  ‘Tell me, my friend,’ he said, ‘what message they have sent me from Court, and whether the news be happy or anxious. Did you find the King there?’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ answered the squire. ‘I found the King and his Queen, and many other distinguished persons. They send you their compliments and the news that they will come. They received your message so worthily that rich and poor alike were glad, for I told them you were alive and well. I found a prodigious crowd there. Further, the Table Round, thanks to your message, had its Company seated about it. If a knight’s fame ever had force, I mean in regard to noble qualities, then your fame is crowned most fairly above others’ far and wide!’

  The squire went on to tell him how it had happened that he had had speech of the Queen, and the loyal advice she had given him. He also told him about the many knights and ladies whom he would be able to see at Joflanze before the time appointed for his duel. Gawan’s cares all vanished, in his heart he knew only happiness: he had abandoned anxiety for joy! He forbade the squire to breathe a word of it. Forgetting all his former cares he came back and sat down and continued happily in his Palace till King Arthur came riding to his aid.

  Now hear of both joy and sorrow.

  Gawan was happy at all times. One morning it so happened that there were many knights and ladies present in that fine Palace. Gawan chose a place on its own in an alcove overlooking the river, and here he sat with Arnive, who could tell many a strange tale.

  ‘My dear lady,’ Gawan said to this queen, ‘how I should like to ask you about such matters as have been kept hidden from me, if it did not displease you! It is by your generous help alone that I am living in this style, amid such noble pleasures, since if I ever had a manly heart the Duchess captured it by force, but now I have benefited from your kindness so that my sufferings are assuaged. Had not your help and easement delivered me from bonds and bandages, I should have thed of love and wounds! It is thanks to you that I am alive. Now tell me, most felicitous of ladies, about the magic that was and is here, and why subtle Clinschor has devised such cogent spells, since but for you they would have cost me my life.’

  No young woman had ever grown old with such glory to her sex as this wise-hearted lady had done. ‘My lord,’ she replied, ‘the enchantments he has here are mere curiosities compared with the mighty spells he has cast in other lands. Whoever puts the blame on us saddles himself with sin, for, sir, I will tell you all about him. He has vented his spleen on many peoples. His country is called Terre de Labur. He is a scion of the stock of one who devised many enchantments – Virgil of Naples. His kinsman Clinschor did as follows. His capital city was Capua. The paths he trod in pursuit of honour were so lofty that honour did not elude him. The name of Duke Clinschor was on the lips of men and women till disaster overtook him – in this way. There was a King of Sicily called Ibert, and the name of his wife was Iblis. She was the loveliest person ever weaned. Clinschor became her Servitor till she rewarded him with her love. It was for this that the king put him to shame. If I am to tell you Clinschor’s secret it must be by your good leave, since it is improper for me to name the circumstances in which he turned sorcerer. – With a cut he was made a capon.’

  Gawan laughed loud and long.

  ‘Clinschor suffered this supreme humiliation,’ she continued, ‘up in Kalot enbolot,* famed for its strength. The king found Clinschor with his wife, he was asleep in her emb
race. If his was a warm bed, he had to leave a deposit for it – he was levelled off between his legs by royal hands, the sovereign deemed it his due. The king trimmed him in his body to such effect that he is unserviceable to any woman today for her sport. Many people have had to suffer as a result.

  ‘I refer not to the land of Persia – it was in a place called Persida that magic was first contrived. Clinschor repaired there and procured the means of bringing to pass by enchantment whatever he fancies. Because of the dishonour to his body he no longer bears good will to man or woman, I mean those of worthy disposition, for it gratifies his heart to deny them any happiness he can. There was a King of Rosche Sabins, called Irot, who feared this might happen to him, so he offered to give Clinschor any of his possessions Clinschor might desire, in order to escape molestation. Thus Clinschor received from Irot this eminence famed for its strength, and with it the land around it to a radius of eight miles. Upon this rock, as you plainly see, Clinschor then fashioned this ingenious fabric. Of each and every precious thing there is an incredible abundance here. Should any wish to besiege this fortress there would be provisions up here in great variety sufficient for thirty years. Clinschor has power over all those beings that haunt the aether between earth’s boundary and the firmament, the malign and the benign, except those under God’s protection.

  ‘My lord, since your great peril was averted without fatal effect, the gift made to Clinschor is now subject to you, since never again will he concern himself with the Castle and the lands measured out to it. He has publicly declared – and he is a man of his word – that whoever passed through this Adventure should be free from his molestation, and that the gift should rest with that person. You have here as your subjects many people, men, women and girls – whoever his eyes ever lit on in Christendom. Many infidels too, both men and women, were forced to live with us in this Castle. Now let this company return to the various places where we are anxiously lamented! Exile chills my heart. May He Who numbered the stars guide you in helping us and lead us back to happiness! “Which mother bears progeny that becomes its mother’s mother? – From water there comes ice, and from this, without fail, there comes water again!” When I reflect that I was borne of happiness, if happiness is ever seen in me again, one progeny will have borne another! As a well-bred man you will bring this about.