Parzival

by Wolfram von Eschenbach

  On the other hand I have yet to meet a man so wise that he would not gladly know what guidance this story requires, what edification it brings. The tale never loses heart, but flees and pursues, turns tail and wheels to the attack and doles out blame and praise. The man who follows all these vicissitudes and neither sits too long nor goes astray and otherwise knows where he stands has been well served by mother wit.

  Feigned friendship leads to the fire, it destroys a man’s nobility like hail. Its loyalty is so short in the tail that if it meet in the wood with gadflies it will not quit a bite in three.

  These manifold distinctions do not all relate to men. I shall set these marks as a challenge to women. Let any who would learn from me beware to whom she takes her honour and good name, beware whom she makes free of her love and precious person, lest she regret the loss of both chastity and affection. With God as my witness I bid good women observe restraint. The lock guarding all good ways is modesty – I need not wish them any better fortune. The false will gain a name for falsity. – How lasting is thin ice in August’s torrid sun? Their credit will pass as soon away. The beauty of many has been praised far and wide; but if their hearts be counterfeit I rate them as I should* a bead set in gold. But I do not reckon it a tawdry thing when the noble ruby with all its virtues is fashioned into base brass, for this I would liken to the spirit of true womanhood. When a woman acts to the best of her nature you will not find me surveying her complexion or probing what shields her heart: if she be well proofed within her breast her good name is safe from harm.

  Now if I were to judge of men and women as I know them a long story it would be. Hear, then, what manner of tale this is, telling of things both pleasant and sad, with joy and trouble for company. Grant there were three of me, each with skill to match mine: there would still be need of unbridled inspiration to tell you what, single-handed, I have a mind to tell †]

  I will renew a tale that tells of great fidelity, of inborn womanhood and manly virtue so straight as never was bent in any test of hardness. Steel that he was, his courage never failed him, his conquering hand seized many a glorious prize when he came to battle. Dauntless man, though laggard in discretion! – Thus I salute the hero. – Sweet balm to woman’s eyes, yet woman’s heart’s disease! Shunner of all wrongdoing! As yet he is unborn to this story whom I have chosen for the part, the man of whom this tale is told and all the marvels in it.

  There is a custom still observed today wherever our western neighbours’ laws prevail. It holds even on German soil in one odd corner – you don’t need me to tell you that! Whoever it was that held those territories yonder ruled – nor was it shame to him – that the eldest brother (strange though true) should have his father’s whole inheritance. That death should sever the rights of which their father’s life assured them was the cadets’ misfortune. Before, they held in common. Now, the eldest holds alone. Was that not a wise man who laid it down that age should have possessions? – ‘Youth has its fill of good things, eld of sighs and sorrows’! – ‘There never was a fate so pitiful as age cum poverty!’ I will not palter with the truth: that kings, counts, dukes should suffer dispossession of their acres, all but the oldest son – what an outlandish ordinance!

  Thus it was that heroic Gahmuret, the daring yet restrained, lost lands and strongholds where his sire with pomp and royal sway had borne crown and sceptre till he met his death in knightly combat. He was bitterly lamented, having kept honour and faith entire till the end. His elder son then summoned the princes of the realm. They came in brilliant style, for they were entitled beyond question to receive great fiefs from him. Now when they had come to court and their claims had been heard and their fiefs confirmed, hear how they proceeded. Prompted by loyalty the whole assembly, rich and poor, humbly and earnestly petitioned the King to show his love for Gahmuret as a brother, and dignify himself by leaving him an Honour from his lands so that all might see whence the knight derived his freedom and his tide, and not utterly dispossess him.

  The King received this gladly. ‘You know how to ask in reason,’ he said. ‘I will grant you this and more. Do you not call my brother “Gahmuret of Anjou”? Anjou is my country. Let both be named from it!’ And his majesty continued ‘My brother may look to me for staunch support in more than I can name at such short notice. He shall be a member of my Household. Truly, I shall prove to you that we two had one mother. He has little, I enough. This I shall share with him so liberally that my heavenly bliss shall not be at stake in the eyes of Him that giveth and taketh. – With justice to dispense He may do either!’

  When they saw that their lord was loyal it was a happy day for those mighty princes. Each made his separate bow of thanks. Nor was Gahmuret slow to voice the assent which his heart had spoken.

  ‘My lord and brother,’ he said good-naturedly, ‘had I the wish to be an inmate of your noble House or that of any other man it would have been idle comfort I had secured. But loyal and discerning that you are, consider my reputation and advise me with an eye to present circumstances: it is here you can lend a helping hand. I own nothing but my equipment. Had I achieved more with it, such as had brought me wide renown, I should be remembered somewhere in the world. I have sixteen squires,’ he went on, ‘of whom six are cased in steel. Give me in addition four pages of gentle birth and breeding. These shall share fully in all my prizes. I am off to see the world – not the first time I have ranged abroad. If fortune watches over me perhaps I shall win the recognition of a good lady and then, if I am worthy and am allowed to serve her, reason tells me I shall not do better than conduct the affair in all sincerity. May God lead me along the paths of good fortune! When our father Gandin ruled your kingdom we used to ride in company, suffering many a doleful pang for love. You were a knight and thief in one, you knew how to woo and conceal! How I wish that I too had the trick of stealing love, had your skill, and found true favour in my partner!’

  The King sighed, ‘Alas!’ he cried, ‘that I ever set eyes on you, for my heart that was whole you have cut in two with your jesting and still do, if we must part. My father left us both great wealth. I will mark you out an equal share, for I love you from my heart. Dazzling gems, red gold, men, weapons, mounts, clothes – accept as much from me as will let you travel as you please and maintain your name for generosity. Yours are the pick of manly virtues. Though you had been born of Gylstram, or had you hailed from Hromgla, I should always have given you that place in my affections which you now hold. You are my brother, never doubt it!’

  ‘It is your courtesy that makes you praise me so, my lord. Then help me in that measure. If you and my mother wish to give away your worldly goods my fortunes will rise not fall. But my heart is set on the heights! I do not know why it quickens so – here – as though it would burst. Oh where is my ambition taking me? I shall attempt it if I can. The day is approaching when I must leave.’

  The King gave him all and more than he had asked: five chargers, picked and tried, strong, swift and spirited, the best in all his lands, numerous vessels of gold and many ingots. The King was pleased to fill him four sumpter-panniers with these things, and then, at his command, a pile of precious stones was added. When the panniers were full, the squires who were in charge of them were clothed in fine tunics and given good mounts. Then, when Gahmuret went into his mother’s presence and she clasped him in her arms so tight, grief would be checked no longer.

  ‘Fil li roy Gandin,’ said this womanly woman, ‘will you no longer stay with me? Oh, was it not I that bore you? And you are Gandin’s child no less. Is God blind where He should help or is He deaf that He does not lend an ear to me? Am I to bear fresh sorrows? I have buried my heart’s own vigour, my eyes’ sweet pleasure! If God means to rob me further, Judge though He be, then the talk I hear of His succouring us is all lies, seeing that He thus abandons me!’

  ‘God console you for my father, ma’am,’ replied the young Angevin, ‘there is good cause for you and me to lament him, but none for any man to bring s
ad news of me. I am for the wars in foreign parts to mend my fortunes. That, ma’am, is the turn my life has taken.’

  ‘Dear son,’ said the Queen, ‘since you are set on serving a great lady and winning her love, do not disdain these things of mine to help you on your way. Tell your chamberlains to receive from me four heavy sumpter-panniers containing broad silks entire that never knew the scissors, and many lengths of samite. Sweet son, if you would make me happy, name the day of your return.’

  ‘Madam, I do not even know what lands shall see me, only – whichever path I take on leaving you – you will have dealt by me nobly and as befits the honour of a knight. The King, too, has dismissed me in a way that calls for my dutiful thanks. I am sure you will cherish him the more, whatever comes of me.’

  The story tells us that this dauntless hero had, from the love and friendship of a lady, received costly gifts to the value of a thousand marks. (Whenever Jew asks pawn today, he would not turn up his nose, but take them at that price.) A certain lady-love of his had sent them to him. There was profit in his service: women’s love and a kind reception. But cure of his love-pangs it brought him none!

  The warrior took his leave, never to set eyes on mother, brother or brother’s lands again. This was great loss to many. He warmly thanked all who had shown him marks of favour before he left. He thought it more than his due: of his courtesy he never let it appear that they had done it because bound. In disposition he was as straight as straight could be. Those who proclaim their own worth court incredulity: so let a man’s neighbours and those who witness his exploits abroad vouch for it – then his tale would be believed!

  Gahmuret cultivated self-control and moderation in all things. He was not given to boasting, endured great honour calmly and was free of loose desires. Yet the noble man knew of no crowned head, whether king, emperor or empress, in whose household he would care to serve except his whose hand was highest over the nations of the earth. Such was his inmost wish.

  He had heard there was a man in Baghdad so powerful that two thirds of the earth or more were subject to him, and whose name was so revered that, in the heathen tongue, he was called ‘The Baruc’. So irresistible was the power he wielded that many kings were subject to him for all their crowns.

  The Barucate stands today. See how they dispense the Christian rite in Rome, as enjoined on us by Holy Baptism: in the other place you see the infidel order. They get their papal law from Baghdad, and, so far as it is free of crooks and crannies, deem it straight! The Baruc gives them bulls of indulgence for their sins.

  There were once two brothers of Babylon, Pompeius and Ipomidon, from whom the Baruc seized Niniveh, which had always belonged to their forbears. They were giving a very good account of themselves when the young Angevin appeared on the scene. Gahmuret found favour with the Baruc, and, noble man, accepted his pay for service there and then.

  You will not mind if he has to have a different coat-of-arms from the one his father Gandin bequeathed him? As one who aspired to preferment, his lordship displayed Anchors on his trappers, cut from dazzling ermine. The rest – his shield and vestments – had to follow suit. His harness was greener than an emerald, of the colour of the silken fabric known as Achmardi,* finer than brocade, of which he ordered a tabard and a surcoat. Anchors ermine were sewn on these, with cord-of-gold for cable.

  His Anchors had essayed neither main nor headland, they had not bitten anywhere. A noble exile, never finding billet or rest, he had to bear this burdensome device, these Anchor-signs, from land to land.

  Through how many lands did he ride, or sail around in ships? If I must swear to these, my word of honour as a knight, upon my oath, is telling you just as my source tells me – I have no other witness. It says that his manly vigour won the first place in heathendom, in Persia and Morocco. In other places, too, Damascus and Aleppo, and wherever knights gave battle, in Arabia and under the walls of Araby, his prowess achieved it that none would challenge him in single fight. Such was the fame he won there. The ambition in his heart reached out for glory. All others’ deeds crumbled and fell away in his path almost to nothingness. This was the lesson all had to learn who met him in joust. He strove with undeflected courage – such was the verdict in Baghdad.

  From there he made his way to the Kingdom of Zazamanc. Here people were all lamenting the death of Isenhart who had lost his life in the service of a lady. It was sweet and constant Belacane who had brought him to this pass. She had never allowed him to enjoy her love, so now he lay dead for love of her. His kinsmen were avenging him in open war and ambush, and were beleaguering the lady with their, armies. When Gahmuret came to her country she was making a stout defence. Vridebrant of Scotland and the men of his fleet had burned the land before retiring.

  Now hear what befel our knight. Tossed thither by stormy seas and but narrowly escaping death he came sailing into the harbour up to the Queen’s palace, where he was observed by many eyes. He looked out on to the plain. Many tents were pitched all round the town, except towards the sea. Two great armies lay there. He sent to inquire whose town it was, for neither he nor any of his mariners knew of it. They told his envoys that it was Patelamunt and sent their message with friendly tokens, imploring him by their gods to aid them – they were in great need, fighting for survival.

  When the young Angevin heard of their wretched sufferings he offered his services for hire, as many knights still do, else they must give him some other reason why he should endure their enemies’ spite. Sick and sound alike answered him then with one voice that their gold and jewels were his, he should be master of it all and want for nothing if he stayed with them. Yet he had no need of hire: for as to gold of Arabia he had brought numerous lumps of it with him! And the people of Zazamanc were all as dark as night – he had had enough of their company! Nevertheless he gave orders for quarters to be taken, and they were only too pleased to give him the best. The ladies were still reclining at their windows, looking on and taking careful note of his squires and of the details of his turn-out.

  I do not know how many sable furs the generous warrior bore on his shield of ermine. The Queen’s Marshal made it out to be a great Anchor, and very glad he was to see it there. His eyes told him he had seen this knight before, or else his double. That must have been at the time of the Baruc’s siege of Alexandria, where Gahmuret’s prowess had been quite unequalled.

  Thus great-hearted Gahmuret rode into town in style. He ordered ten sumpters to be loaded. These marched through the streets followed by twenty squires on horseback. His baggage-train could be seen ahead: unmounted pages, cooks and scullions, they had gone on in advance. After the squires rode twelve noble pages, some of whom were Saracens, well-bred and with engaging manners. After these, horses with trappers of cendale were led, eight in a bunch. The ninth carried Gahmuret’s saddle. The shield I mentioned was borne beside it by a merry page. Next rode trumpeters, such as are still in demand today. A drummer beat his tabor and tossed it high into the air. His lordship would have thought it a poor show had there been no flautists, no good fiddlers three! These all passed on with measured step. The great man brought up the rear himself with his master-mariner, an esteemed and experienced man.

  All the inhabitants were Moors, every man and woman of them. The knight saw a profusion of battered shields pierced through and through by spears, many of them hanging on doors and walls. There was weeping there, and wailing. Numbers of men had been laid on beds in the windows for the fresh air, so badly wounded that even when they had had the doctor they could not recover. They had been in among the enemy, and such has always been the lot of those who would not flee. Countless horses were being led back past him gashed by spear and sword. He saw many dusky ladies on either side of him whose colour resembled the raven’s.

  His host received him amiably. This had a pleasant outcome for him later. What a very gallant man he was! In charge of one of the great Gates, he had delivered many a hack and thrust. With him Gahmuret found a number of knights, th
eir arms in slings and heads in bandages. But their wounds were not such as to keep them from fighting, they had not lost their vigour.

  The Burgrave begged his guest in the friendliest way to dispose of him and his without ceremony. He led Gahmuret to his wife, who then kissed him, which was little to his liking. They then went for refreshments. This done, the Marshal left him and went before the Queen to claim a rich reward for the news he was bringing.

  ‘Madam,’ he said, ‘our cares have given way to joy! The man we are entertaining here is a knight of such high quality that we must forever thank the gods for their grace in bringing him to us.’

  ‘Now tell me, I command you, who is this knight?’

  ‘He is a proud warrior, a high-born Angevin, who has taken the pay of the Baruc himself. You should see how little he spares himself, when he is unleashed! How beautifully he swerves away and veers to the attack! He shows his enemies what mischief means! I saw him fighting gloriously when the Babylonians were out to relieve Alexandria and drive the Baruc off by force. What hosts were felled there in that rout! It was there that the charming fellow exerted himself so mightily that there was nothing they could do but run away. He is given the reputation of having distinguished himself beyond all others in many lands.’

  ‘Now watch for a suitable occasion and see that he comes and talks to me here. We have an armistice today, you know, so that the gallant man can ride up here to me – or must I go to him? His skin is a different colour from ours. I only hope this is no sore point with him? I wish I had known of it before. I would show him all honour if my councillors wished it. If it is his pleasure to approach me, how shall I receive him? Is he near enough to me in birth for my kiss not to be thrown away?’