‘When I last met you, Sire,’ the Waleis told King Arthur, ‘my honour was attacked. I was mulcted of so much honour that I was almost bankrupt of it. But now, Sire, if you mean what you say, I have heard that some small honour is attested in me. Difficult though it would be to convince myself, I should nevertheless gladly believe it if those others would believe it, too, from whom I went in disgrace.’
Those who were sitting there declared that he had won such exalted honours throughout many lands that his honour was entire.
And now the Duchess’s knights arrived where handsome Parzival was seated at Arthur’s side, and the noble King received them punctiliously in his host’s pavilion. For spacious though Gawan’s pavilion was, Arthur, urbane man, had taken his seat outside in the meadow with the company sitting round him in a ring. Strangers were assembled here together: but to tell you who they all were, Christians and Saracens, by name, in detail, would be a lengthy business. Who were Clinschor’s army? Who were the formidable men who sallied forth from Logroys so often, fighting for Orgeluse? Whom had Arthur brought? – If one were charged with naming and proclaiming all their seats and domains, one would be hard put to it to single them out. Yet they were all at one in declaring that Parzival was beyond compare so dazzling in his person that women must dote on him, and that in all that made for distinction, Noblesse had cheated him of nothing.
The son of Gahmuret rose to his feet. ‘Let all present quietly sit and help me with a thing whose lack I suffer most keenly. By some strange mystery I was parted from the Table Round. I ask those who were once my Companions, by exerting their companionship, to help me back to it!’
What he had asked, Arthur graciously accorded him. Then, stepping aside into a small group, Parzival voiced a second request, namely that Gawan should make over to him the duel he was to fight next day at the appointed hour.
‘I shall be happy to wait for the knight men call Rois Gramoflanz. Early this morning I broke a twig from his tree for a garland so that he should come and attack me, for it was expressly and solely to do battle with him that I entered his country. Cousin, I could scarcely expect to find you here – never have I regretted anything so much! I imagined it was the King come to give me battle. Let me take him on as I was intending, Cousin. If his renown is ever to be brought low, it is I who shall inflict such damage on him as will well and truly content him. My rights have been restored to me here, dear Cousin, so that I can live as a comrade towards you. Remember too that we are related, and leave this duel to me. My manly mettle shall not remain hidden!’
‘I have many kinsmen and brothers* here with the King of Britain. I shall let none of you fight in my stead. I rely on my good cause that, with luck, I shall gain the victory. God reward you for offering to fight: but I am not yet that far gone.’
Arthur had heard what was being asked. He put an end to their conversation and went back with them and sat in the ring. Gawan’s Butler, who was not without attendants, saw to it that his young gentlemen brought in a store of precious cups of gold encrusted with gems. This outpouring over, the company all went to their quarters.
Night indeed was coming on. Parzival gave thought to examining all his equipment. If any of the leathers had snapped he had them splendidly restored and he asked them to get a new shield, since his had been holed clean through with thrusts and blows. They had to bring him a very stout one, and it was done by men-at-arms who were strangers to him, some French men among others. As to the charger the Templar had ridden against him in a joust*, a squire had applied himself to it so well that it was never better dressed since that day. It was now night and time to sleep, and with all his equipment at his feet this is what Parzival did.
For his part King Gramoflanz was annoyed that another man had fought in defence of his Garland that day; but his people neither dared nor were able to compose the matter. He deeply regretted that he had lost his opportunity. And what did this warrior do? Since he was accustomed to winning glory by the time day was breaking, both he and his mount were armed. You ask if fabulously wealthy ladies bestowed his adornment? It was lavish enough without that – he adorned his person for love of a young woman whose steadfast Servitor he was.
Now Parzival too had stolen out unseen. He freed a stout lance of Angram from its pennant and was fully armed besides. As the warrior rode, alone as he was, towards the burnished tree-trunks where the duel was to be fought, he saw the King waiting there. The tale avers that without saying a word each thrust his lance through the other’s shield to such effect that the splinters went whirling high into the air from their grips! They were both adept at jousting and also with other weapons. Over the expanse of that meadow the dew was marred, while their helmets were jangled by keen swords biting deep. They both fought fearlessly. The grass was trampled down and in many places the dew was trodden in. I am sorry for the red flowers and even more for those warriors, who were enduring sharp distress without timidity. To what man they had not wronged could this be unsullied pleasure?
And now Lord Gawan was preparing himself for the hazards of his duel. It was fully mid-morning before it was learned that bold Parzival was missing. ‘Is he out for a reconciliation?’ He was not acting as though he were! – He was fighting so manfully with one who was applying himself to battle too. By now it was high morning.
A bishop sang Mass for Gawan. There was a great press of armed men there, and you could see knights and ladies already on horseback in Arthur’s ring before the chanting began. King Arthur himself stood on foot where the priests perform the Office. After the benediction, Lord Gawan armed himself. Already before Mass he had been seen wearing his steel jambs on his shapely legs. Ladies began to weep. The whole army marched out to where they heard the sound of sword-play, the crackle of sparks hewn from helmets, and mighty blows being driven home.
It was King Gramoflanz’s custom to scorn fighting with one opponent, but it now seemed to him as though he were being attacked by six. Yet it was Parzival alone who was giving him proof of his fighting qualities. He had taught him a lesson in good manners such as is still esteemed today, since never after that time did Gramoflanz arrogate to himself the honour of challenging two men at a time. For, out there, one man is giving him more than he can cope with.
Meanwhile, on both sides, the armies had arrived at their marks on the broad green meadow and were appraising this bitter sport. The bold warriors’ horses had come to a standstill, and their noble riders were thus fighting a hard, fierce battle on foot. Time and time again those stalwarts tossed their swords to change the edge.
In this way the King Gramoflanz was receiving harsh payment for his Garland, and this kinsman of his lady-love was suffering small joy from him, so dearly was noble Parzival paying for radiant Itonje, from whom by rights he ought to have benefited. Men who had sallied out many times to win renown, they were now having to pay dear with their strife. The one was fighting to extricate a friend: the other, Love’s subject that he was, was doing her bidding.
And now my lord Gawan appeared at the point where the proud bold Waleis had all but won the victory.
Brandelidelin of Punturteis, Bernout de Riviers and Affinamus of Clitiers, these three, rode up to the scene of the encounter bare-headed while Arthur and Gawan rode on to the meadow towards the battle-weary pair from the other side. The five of them agreed to end the fighting. It seemed the right moment to end it also to Gramoflanz, who formally conceded victory to the man they saw opposing him. And others had to say the same.
‘My lord King,’ said King Lot’s son, ‘I shall do to you today as you did to me yesterday when you asked me to rest. Now you rest today – you need it. Whoever forced this duel on you reduced the strength you can pit against me. I could now face you single-handed though you only take on two at a time! Tomorrow I will dare it alone. May God make the just cause manifest!’
After pledging that he would come to the meadow the next day to do battle with Gawan, the King rode off and joined his followers.
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bsp; ‘Nephew,’ said Arthur to Parzival, ‘though it so happened that you begged leave to fight the duel and to your intense sorrow Gawan refused to let you, you have nevertheless now fought it with the man who was waiting for him, whether we liked it or not. You stole out from among us like a thief, otherwise we should have prevented you from taking part. Now Gawan need not be angry, however much they fête you on your victory.’
‘The high distinction my cousin has won does not trouble me,’ replied Gawan. ‘If I must undertake a duel, tomorrow is still too soon for me. If the King would release me from it I should account it very reasonable on his part.’
The army rode in with all its many companies. Comely ladies were to be seen there and no few knights, so caparisoned that no army was ever possessed of such adornments. The tabards of the Knights of the Table Round and the Duchess’s train were resplendent with cloth-of-gold from Cynidunte and fabric brought from Pelpiunte. Their horses’ trappers too were dazzling bright. In both armies, handsome Parzival was praised so highly that his friends could have been well pleased. In Gramoflanz’s army, indeed, they declared that no knight on whom sun had ever shone had come to them so formidable, and that whatever the feats on either side he alone must have the glory. Even now they did not know the name of this man whom all acclaimed supreme.
Gramoflanz’s people advised him to send a message to Arthur asking him to ensure that no other man of his company came out to fight with him, but that Arthur should send him the right one. For it was with Gawan son of King Lot that he wished to do battle. Two well-versed pages, commended for their fine manners, were sent as envoys.
‘Now remark minutely whom you would judge fairest of all those lovely women,’ said the King. ‘You are also to take especial note of the lady at whose side Bene sits – attend closely to how she comports herself. Secretly observe whether she be happy or sad. You will see from her eyes whether she is pining for her lover. Be sure to give my friend Bene this letter and ring – she knows to whom to pass it on. Go about this discreetly and you will have done well.’
Now on the other side it had come about that Itonje had learnt that her brother and the dearest man a girl had ever taken to her heart were engaged to fight one another and were not to be dissuaded from it. Her sufferings then burst through her shyness. Whoever approves her anguish does so without my support, since she has not deserved it.
Itonje’s mother and grandmother took her aside into a small pavilion made of silk. Arnive reproached her for the wretched state she was in and rebuked her for misbehaving. And now there was no avoiding it: she freely confessed what she had concealed from them for so long.
‘If my brother is going to cut off my heart’s dear life,’ said she, ‘he would have very good reason not to.’
‘Tell my son to come to me at once,’ said Arnive to a young gentleman-in-waiting, ‘and to contrive to come alone.’ The squire duly fetched King Arthur. It was Arnive’s intention to let him hear for whom lovely Itonje was pining so grievously, in the hope that he might remove the cause.
Meanwhile King Gramoflanz’s pages had arrived at Arthur’s court and alighted on the meadow. One of them saw Bene sitting outside the small pavilion and beside her a young lady who was saying to Arthur, ‘Does the Duchess think it a fine thing that my brother should slay my admirer at her caprice? He should think it a shameful deed. What wrong has the King done him? He should let the King benefit from the fact that I am his sister. If my brother has any perception, he will know our love to be clear and unclouded, so that if he is loyal he will be sorry. If he brings about my death through bitter grief following the King’s, let him be arraigned before you!’ Such was the sweet girl’s complaint to Arthur. ‘Remember you are my uncle. By the affection that unites us, settle this dispute!’
‘Alas, my dear Niece, that you give proof of such noble love while still so young!’ Arthur replied at once, wise in his experience. ‘You are bound to rue it, as did your sister Sur-damur for love of the Greek Emperor. Sweet, charming girl, I could put this duel by if I knew that his heart and yours are gathered in one. Gramoflanz son of Irot is of so manly a temper that the duel will be fought out unless your love forestalls it. Has he on festive occasions ever set eyes on your dazzling looks, on your sweet red lips?’
‘That has never happened,’ she answered. ‘We love without having seen each other. But in the abundance of his love and in hope of true companionship he has sent me many precious tokens. From me, for my part, he has received what goes with true love and has banished all doubt between us. The King is steadfast in his attachment to me, and his heart is free of guile.’
At this point Lady Bene recognized King Gramoflanz’s pages who had come to seek audience with Arthur. ‘There should be nobody standing here,’ she said. ‘With your permission I shall order this crowd to withdraw beyond the guy-ropes. If my lady lets herself be moved to such passionate laments for her darling, it will soon be common talk.’
Lady Bene was sent outside. One of the pages pressed the ring and letter into her hand. They had also clearly heard the torment her mistress was in. They said they had come to seek audience of Arthur, if she would kindly arrange it.
‘Go and stand way over there till I tell you to come to me,’ she said.
Back inside the tent, sweet young Bene reported that messengers had come from Gramoflanz and were asking for King Arthur. ‘I judged it inappropriate to make them aware of this conversation. One might then have asked what grudge I had against my lady to let them see her all in tears as she is.’
‘Are they the two pages I saw trotting to the ring in search of me?’ asked Arthur. ‘They are boys of high lineage. What if they are so well-bred and well-behaved that they are fitted to share in our counsels? One or the other is wide awake enough to have read the signs of my niece’s love for his lord.’
‘I know nothing of that,’ replied Bene. ‘Sire, with your gracious leave, the King has sent this ring and letter. One of those pages gave it me when I went outside the tent. Here, my Lady, you take it.’
The letter was kissed over and over again. Pressing it to her breast, Itonje said: ‘Sire, read for yourself whether the King sues me for my love.’
Arthur took the letter and found there, from one who knew what it is to love, all that faithful Gramoflanz spoke through his own lips. Arthur could see from the letter that so far as his understanding went he had never in all his days seen love so complete. In it stood words most fitting for love:
I salute her whom it is right I should salute, from whom service earns me salutation. Young lady, it is you I have in mind, since you solace me with hope. Our loves keep company together – this is the root of my abounding joy. Since your heart is constant toward me, your solace outweighs all other. You are the clasp above my steadfastness and banisher of my heart’s sorrow. Your love will help me to achieve it that no misdeed of any kind will ever be seen in me. To your goodness I can truly ascribe constancy that does not shift its place – as the Antarctic Pole* stands opposite the North Star and neither quits its place, our love shall stand in loyalty and never go apart. Now, noble young lady, remember me and all the suffering I have lamented to you. Do not be slow to help me. If any man for hatred of me should wish to part you from me, bear it in mind that Love has power to requite us both. Take care lest you wound woman’s honour, and let me be your Servitor. I shall serve you to the best of my ability.
‘You are right, dear Niece,’ said Arthur. ‘The King salutes you in all sincerity. This letter tells me such a tale, I confess I never saw so marvellous an invention on the theme of Love! You must put an end to his anguish, and he must do the same for you. You both leave it to me. I will put a stop to this duel! Spare your tears in the meantime. You were nevertheless taken prisoner! Tell me, how did it come about that you fell in love with one another? You must give him your love as hire, since he is willing to deserve it.’
‘The one who engineered it all is here,’ said Arthur’s niece Itonje. ‘Neither of us has eve
r referred to it. If you wish it she will arrange for me to see the man to whom I have given my heart.’
‘Show me her,’ said Arthur. ‘If I can, I will see to it for his and your sakes that your wishes in this matter are fulfilled so that you find happiness together.’
‘It was Bene,’ said Itonje. ‘There are two of his pages here as well. If you value my life, will you try to discover whether the King, with whom all my happiness rests, desires to see me?’
Discreet as he was courteous, Arthur went out to those pages and, when he saw them, welcomed them. One of them then addressed him.
‘Sire,’ said the boy, ‘King Gramoflanz requests you for the sake of your own honour to fulfil the vow that was made between him and Gawan. And he further requests you, Sire, that no other man come to fight with him. Your army is so vast that were he to overcome them all in turn it would not be right or proper. You should have Gawan take the field, for it was agreed that the duel was to be with him.’
‘I will clear us from that charge,’ Arthur told the pages. ‘My nephew was never more sorry that he did not fight there in person. As to the man who fought your lord, his victory is of his very nature, since he is Gahmuret’s son. All who have come here in these three armies from all directions have never heard of a warrior so valiant in battle. All that he does turns to glory! I speak of my kinsman Parzival of the radiant looks, whom you shall see. In view of Gawan’s predicament with his oath I shall comply with your sovereign’s message.’
Arthur, Bene and these two young gentlemen rode up and down. Arthur drew the pages’ attention to the dazzling appearances of many ladies. They also saw numerous crests that rustled high on helmets. It would not harm a mighty man today to behave so companionably. They remained in the saddle, while Arthur pointed out the notables to the pages throughout the army, where they gazed to their hearts’ content on the very pick of knights, maidens and ladies, many comely people.
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