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قراءة كتاب Parzival (vol. 2 of 2) A Knightly Epic (volumes 1 & 2)
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اللغة: English
Parzival (vol. 2 of 2) A Knightly Epic (volumes 1 & 2)
الصفحة رقم: 2
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By knighthood win love's rewarding, yet thou winnest it not from me.
Nor honour shall be thy portion, but shame shalt thou win alone—
Now the truth have I spoken unto thee, 'twere best thou shouldst get thee gone!'
Then he quoth, 'Truth thou speakest, Lady, since mine eyes thus mine heart have brought
In danger, for they beheld thee, and thy fetters around me wrought. 120
But now, since I be thy captive, I prithee entreat me well,
Without thine own will hast thou done this, in silence I owned thy spell:
Thou shalt loose me, or thou shalt bind me, for my will it shall be as thine,
And gladly all woes I'ld suffer if so I might call thee mine!'
In danger, for they beheld thee, and thy fetters around me wrought. 120
But now, since I be thy captive, I prithee entreat me well,
Without thine own will hast thou done this, in silence I owned thy spell:
Thou shalt loose me, or thou shalt bind me, for my will it shall be as thine,
And gladly all woes I'ld suffer if so I might call thee mine!'
Then she quoth, 'Yea! so take me with thee, if thou countest upon thy gain, 125
And the love that shall be thy guerdon, thou shalt mourn it in shame and pain.
And the love that shall be thy guerdon, thou shalt mourn it in shame and pain.
I would know if a man thou shalt be who bravely for me would fight—
And yet, if thou prize thine honour, thou wilt flee from this strife, Sir Knight!
And should I yet further rede thee, and thou shouldst to my word say yea,
Then seek thou elsewhere a lady—For, if thou my love dost pray, 130
Then joy and fair love's rewarding fall never unto thy share,
But sorrow shall be thy portion if hence I with thee shall fare!'
And yet, if thou prize thine honour, thou wilt flee from this strife, Sir Knight!
And should I yet further rede thee, and thou shouldst to my word say yea,
Then seek thou elsewhere a lady—For, if thou my love dost pray, 130
Then joy and fair love's rewarding fall never unto thy share,
But sorrow shall be thy portion if hence I with thee shall fare!'
Then answered Gawain, 'Without service, who thinketh true love to win?
An one did so, then here I tell thee, 'twere counted to him for sin,
For true love ever asketh service, yea after as aye before!' 135
Then she quoth, 'Wilt thou do me service? shame waiteth for thee in store,
Tho' thy life be a life of conflict—No coward as my knight I'll own;
See thou yonder path, 'tis no highway, o'er the bridge doth it wend adown
To the garden, take thou the pathway, for there shalt thou find my steed—
Many folk shalt thou see and shalt hearken, but take thou of their words no heed, 140
Nor stay for their dance or singing, for tambour, or harp, or flute,
But go thou to my horse, and loose it, that I go not with thee afoot!'
Gawain sprang from off his charger—Yet awhile he bethought him well
Where his steed might abide his coming: by the waters that rippling fell
Was no tree unto which to bind it, and he knew not if he this dame 145
Might pray, would she hold his charger till once more with her own he came.
Then she quoth, 'I see well what doth vex thee, thine horse shalt thou leave with me,
I will guard it until thy coming tho' small good shall that be to thee!'
An one did so, then here I tell thee, 'twere counted to him for sin,
For true love ever asketh service, yea after as aye before!' 135
Then she quoth, 'Wilt thou do me service? shame waiteth for thee in store,
Tho' thy life be a life of conflict—No coward as my knight I'll own;
See thou yonder path, 'tis no highway, o'er the bridge doth it wend adown
To the garden, take thou the pathway, for there shalt thou find my steed—
Many folk shalt thou see and shalt hearken, but take thou of their words no heed, 140
Nor stay for their dance or singing, for tambour, or harp, or flute,
But go thou to my horse, and loose it, that I go not with thee afoot!'
Gawain sprang from off his charger—Yet awhile he bethought him well
Where his steed might abide his coming: by the waters that rippling fell
Was no tree unto which to bind it, and he knew not if he this dame 145
Might pray, would she hold his charger till once more with her own he came.
Then she quoth, 'I see well what doth vex thee, thine horse shalt thou leave with me,
I will guard it until thy coming tho' small good shall that be to thee!'
Then Gawain took his horse's bridle, 'Now hold this for me, I pray;'
'Now indeed art thou dull and foolish,' spake the lady, 'where thou dost lay 150
Thine hand, thinkest thou I'll hold it? such deed would beseem me ill!'
Then the love-lorn knight spake gently, for fain would he do her will,
'Further forward I never hold it!' Then she quoth, 'I will hold it there,
And do thou my bidding swiftly, bring my steed and with thee I'll fare;'
Then he thought this a joyful hearing, and straightway he left her side, 155
And over the bridge so narrow to the garden gate he hied;
There saw he many a maiden, and knights so brave and young,
And within that goodly garden so gaily they danced and sung.
'Now indeed art thou dull and foolish,' spake the lady, 'where thou dost lay 150
Thine hand, thinkest thou I'll hold it? such deed would beseem me ill!'
Then the love-lorn knight spake gently, for fain would he do her will,
'Further forward I never hold it!' Then she quoth, 'I will hold it there,
And do thou my bidding swiftly, bring my steed and with thee I'll fare;'
Then he thought this a joyful hearing, and straightway he left her side, 155
And over the bridge so narrow to the garden gate he hied;
There saw he many a maiden, and knights so brave and young,
And within that goodly garden so gaily they danced and sung.
And Gawain he was clad so richly, with helmet and harness fair,
That all must bewail his coming for naught but true folk dwelt there. 160
They cared for that lovely garden, on the greensward they stood or lay,
Or sat 'neath the tents whose shadow was cool 'gainst the sunlight's ray.
Yet they ceased not to bemoan him, and to grieve for his sorrow sore,
Yea, man alike and maiden, and in this wise their plaint they bore,
'Alas! that our lady's cunning will to danger this knight betray! 165
Alas! that he fain will follow, for she rideth an evil way.'
That all must bewail his coming for naught but true folk dwelt there. 160
They cared for that lovely garden, on the greensward they stood or lay,
Or sat 'neath the tents whose shadow was cool 'gainst the sunlight's ray.
Yet they ceased not to bemoan him, and to grieve for his sorrow sore,
Yea, man alike and maiden, and in this wise their plaint they bore,
'Alas! that our lady's cunning will to danger this knight betray! 165
Alas! that he fain will follow, for she rideth an evil way.'
And many stepped fair towards him, and their arms around him threw,
And bade him a friendly greeting—to an olive tree he drew,
For the steed was fast beneath it, so rich was its gear, I ween,
That the cost of the goodly trappings full thousand marks had been. 170
And an old knight he stood beside it, well-trimmed was his beard and grey,
And upon a staff he leant him, and salt tears he wept alway.
And the tears, they were shed for Gawain, as he to the steed drew near,
Yet his words of kindly greeting fell soft on the hero's ear.
Then he spake, 'Wilt thou hearken counsel? Lay not on this steed thine hand, 175
And herein shalt thou show thy wisdom—tho' none here thy will withstand,
Yet, indeed, it were best to leave it! Accurst be our lady queen,
For of many a gallant hero, I wot, she the death hath been!'
Yet Gawain he would do her bidding—'Then, alas! for woe draweth near,'
Spake the knight, and he loosed the halter, ''Twere best not to linger here, 180
The steed shalt thou take, and shalt leave us, and may He Who made salt the sea,
In the hour of thy need, and thy peril, thy strength and thy counsel be:
And see thou that our lady's beauty, it bringeth thee not to shame,
She is sour in the midst of sweetness, 'mid the sunlight a shower of rain.'
And bade him a friendly greeting—to an olive tree he drew,
For the steed was fast beneath it, so rich was its gear, I ween,
That the cost of the goodly trappings full thousand marks had been. 170
And an old knight he stood beside it, well-trimmed was his beard and grey,
And upon a staff he leant him, and salt tears he wept alway.
And the tears, they were shed for Gawain, as he to the steed drew near,
Yet his words of kindly greeting fell soft on the hero's ear.
Then he spake, 'Wilt thou hearken counsel? Lay not on this steed thine hand, 175
And herein shalt thou show thy wisdom—tho' none here thy will withstand,
Yet, indeed, it were best to leave it! Accurst be our lady queen,
For of many a gallant hero, I wot, she the death hath been!'
Yet Gawain he would do her bidding—'Then, alas! for woe draweth near,'
Spake the knight, and he loosed the halter, ''Twere best not to linger here, 180
The steed shalt thou take, and shalt leave us, and may He Who made salt the sea,
In the hour of thy need, and thy peril, thy strength and thy counsel be:
And see thou that our lady's beauty, it bringeth thee not to shame,
She is sour in the midst of sweetness, 'mid the sunlight a shower of rain.'
'God grant it,' then quoth Sir Gawain, and straightway he took his leave 185
Of the old knight and of his comrades and sorely the folk did grieve.
And the horse went a narrow pathway, and it passed thro' the garden gate,
And it crossed o'er the bridge, and he found her who there did his coming wait,
The queen of his heart, and the ruler was she of that land so fair,
Yet altho' his heart fled towards her yet grief thro' her deed it bare. 190
Of the old knight and of his comrades and sorely the folk did grieve.
And the horse went a narrow pathway, and it passed thro' the garden gate,
And it crossed o'er the bridge, and he found her who there did his coming wait,
The queen of his heart, and the ruler was she of that land so fair,
Yet altho' his heart fled towards her yet grief thro' her deed it bare. 190
Her hand 'neath her chin soft-rounded had loosened the wimple's fold,
And flung it aback on her head-gear,—(if a woman ye thus behold,
Know ye that for strife she longeth and mischief she hath in mind)—
Would ye know how else she had robed her ye naught in my song shall find,
For how might I tell her raiment and name ye her robes aright, 195
When mine eyes, on her fair face gazing, saw naught but her beauty bright?
And flung it aback on her head-gear,—(if a woman ye thus behold,
Know ye that for strife she longeth and mischief she hath in mind)—
Would ye know how else she had robed her ye naught in my song shall find,
For how might I tell her raiment and name ye her robes aright, 195
When mine eyes, on her fair face gazing, saw naught but her beauty bright?
As Gawain drew near the lady, she hailed him with scornful mien,
'Now welcome, thou goose! for of all men most foolish art thou, I ween,
All too bent shalt thou be on my service, wert thou wise thou wouldst let it be—'
Then he quoth, 'Yet shalt thou be gracious who now art so wroth with me, 200
For so harshly thou dost chastise me thou in honour must make it good,
And my hand shall be fain to serve thee till thou winnest a milder mood;
Ask thou what of me thou willest—Shall I lift thee upon thy steed?'
But she quoth, 'I will no such service, for methinks all too great such meed
For a hand that is yet unproven—Ask thou for a lesser grace!' 205
On the flowery sward she turned her, and she looked not on Gawain's face,
But she laid her hand on the bridle, and she light to the saddle sprung,
And she bade him to ride before her, and she spake with a mocking tongue,
'Now indeed would it be great pity did I stray from so brave a knight,
By God's grace will we keep together, so ride thou within my sight!' 210
'Now welcome, thou goose! for of all men most foolish art thou, I ween,
All too bent shalt thou be on my service, wert thou wise thou wouldst let it be—'
Then he quoth, 'Yet shalt thou be gracious who now art so wroth with me, 200
For so harshly thou dost chastise me thou in honour must make it good,
And my hand shall be fain to serve thee till thou winnest a milder mood;
Ask thou what of me thou willest—Shall I lift thee upon thy steed?'
But she quoth, 'I will no such service, for methinks all too great such meed
For a hand that is yet unproven—Ask thou for a lesser grace!' 205
On the flowery sward she turned her, and she looked not on Gawain's face,
But she laid her hand on the bridle, and she light to the saddle sprung,
And she bade him to ride before her, and she spake with a mocking tongue,
'Now indeed would it be great pity did I stray from so brave a knight,
By God's grace will we keep together, so ride thou within my sight!' 210
Now he who my rede would follow his peace shall he hold awhile,
Lest he speak but the word of folly, till he know if she wrought of guile,
For as yet the truth ye know not, nor the thing that was in her heart.
And were it the time for vengeance, then I too might bear my part,
And take from this lady payment for the wrong she hath done Gawain; 215
Nor of that she shall do hereafter shall aught unavenged remain.
Lest he speak but the word of folly, till he know if she wrought of guile,
For as yet the truth ye know not, nor the thing that was in her heart.
And were it the time for vengeance, then I too might bear my part,
And take from this lady payment for the wrong she hath done Gawain; 215
Nor of that she shall do hereafter shall aught unavenged remain.
But Orgelusé, that lovely lady, bare herself in no friendly wise,
For she rode in the track of Gawain, and so wrathful, I ween, her guise
That were I in the stead of Gawain little comfort my soul might take
That she from my care would free me, and with fair love atonement make. 220
Then they rode on an open moorland, and a herb did Sir Gawain see
Whose root had the power of healing, and down to the ground sprang he,
And dug up the root, and swiftly he sprang on his steed again.
And the lady she looked upon him, and she spake in a mocking vein,
'Now in sooth if this my companion can at one-while be leech and knight, 225
For starvation he need not fear him if his salve-box he bear aright!'
Quoth Gawain, ''Neath a mighty linden a wounded knight I saw,
Methinks, if again I find him, this herb shall the poison draw
From his wounds, and new strength may give him!' She spake, 'Now I well were fain
To look on thy skill, for who knoweth what knowledge I thence may gain!' 230
For she rode in the track of Gawain, and so wrathful, I ween, her guise
That were I in the stead of Gawain little comfort my soul might take
That she from my care would free me, and with fair love atonement make. 220
Then they rode on an open moorland, and a herb did Sir Gawain see
Whose root had the power of healing, and down to the ground sprang he,
And dug up the root, and swiftly he sprang on his steed again.
And the lady she looked upon him, and she spake in a mocking vein,
'Now in sooth if this my companion can at one-while be leech and knight, 225
For starvation he need not fear him if his salve-box he bear aright!'
Quoth Gawain, ''Neath a mighty linden a wounded knight I saw,
Methinks, if again I find him, this herb shall the poison draw
From his wounds, and new strength may give him!' She spake, 'Now I well were fain
To look on thy skill, for who knoweth what knowledge I thence may gain!' 230
Now a squire he rode swift behind them, 'twas the lady's messenger,
Fain was he to do her bidding—As the horse-hoofs they drew anear
Gawain would await his coming, and his steed for a space he held,
Yet he deemed him he saw a monster when first he the squire beheld,
For Malcréature did they call him, and Kondrie was his sister fair, 235
And e'en such a face as the sister, I ween, did the brother bear.
From his mouth, as the tusks of a wild-boar, stood the teeth out to left and right,
Unlike was his face to a man's face, and fearful in all men's sight.
And the locks of his hair were shorter than those which from Kondrie hung
Adown on her mule, stiff as bristles, and sharp, from his head they sprung. 240
And beside the river Ganges, in the land of Tribalibot,
Dwell such folk, if awhile ye hearken ye shall learn how befell their lot.
Fain was he to do her bidding—As the horse-hoofs they drew anear
Gawain would await his coming, and his steed for a space he held,
Yet he deemed him he saw a monster when first he the squire beheld,
For Malcréature did they call him, and Kondrie was his sister fair, 235
And e'en such a face as the sister, I ween, did the brother bear.
From his mouth, as the tusks of a wild-boar, stood the teeth out to left and right,
Unlike was his face to a man's face, and fearful in all men's sight.
And the locks of his hair were shorter than those which from Kondrie hung
Adown on her mule, stiff as bristles, and sharp, from his head they sprung. 240
And beside the river Ganges, in the land of Tribalibot,
Dwell such folk, if awhile ye hearken ye shall learn how befell their lot.
Now Adam, of all men father, from God did he learn such skill,
All beasts, wild and tame, he knew them, and he namèd them at his will.
And he knew the stars and their pathway, as they circle the silent sky, 245
And the power of the seven planets, how they rule men from heaven high,
And he knew of all roots the virtue, and the ill that was theirs of yore—
When his children were grown to manhood, and daughters and sons they bore,
From evil desires he warned them; and his daughters he oft did rede
Of certain roots to beware them, that wrought ill with the human seed, 250
And would change their face, and their aspect, and dishonoured the race should be;
And he spake, 'Then shall we be other than erst God did fashion me,
And therefore do ye, my children, give heed to the words I say,
Nor be blind to your bliss, lest your children they wander too far astray.'
All beasts, wild and tame, he knew them, and he namèd them at his will.
And he knew the stars and their pathway, as they circle the silent sky, 245
And the power of the seven planets, how they rule men from heaven high,
And he knew of all roots the virtue, and the ill that was theirs of yore—
When his children were grown to manhood, and daughters and sons they bore,
From evil desires he warned them; and his daughters he oft did rede
Of certain roots to beware them, that wrought ill with the human seed, 250
And would change their face, and their aspect, and dishonoured the race should be;
And he spake, 'Then shall we be other than erst God did fashion me,
And therefore do ye, my children, give heed to the words I say,
Nor be blind to your bliss, lest your children they wander too far astray.'
But the women, they did as women, in forbidden ways they went, 255
And they wrought out the lust and the evil on which their desire was bent,
And the shape of men was changèd, such rewarding their fault must win,
And tho' firm stood the will of Adam yet sorely he mourned their sin—
Now the fair Queen Sekundillé, her body, her crown, and land,
Feirefis had won as his guerdon by the power of his knightly hand, 260
And there, in her far-off kingdom (no lie is the tale I tell)
Full many of this strange people since the days that are gone do dwell,
And their faces are ill to look on, and the birth-marks are
And they wrought out the lust and the evil on which their desire was bent,
And the shape of men was changèd, such rewarding their fault must win,
And tho' firm stood the will of Adam yet sorely he mourned their sin—
Now the fair Queen Sekundillé, her body, her crown, and land,
Feirefis had won as his guerdon by the power of his knightly hand, 260
And there, in her far-off kingdom (no lie is the tale I tell)
Full many of this strange people since the days that are gone do dwell,
And their faces are ill to look on, and the birth-marks are