Then o'er Cumberland's prince and hero, who by Parzival's hand was slain, 790 Queen Guinevere spake in sorrow while her tear-drops they flowed amain, 'Alas! alas! for broken in twain is King Arthur's might, For he whom the good Round Table accounted its bravest knight Here slain before Nantes he lieth! His heritage did he claim Where men gave him death for his guerdon--For naught marred his knightly fame; 795 Here long hath he dwelt among us in such wise that never an ear The tale of a deed unknightly, or wrong he had done, might hear. He held him afar from falsehood, to guile was he aye a foe; The lock and the seal of knighthood all too soon must we bury low. His heart wise in courteous wisdom, and steadfast as seal and sign, 800 Taught him ever the fairest counsel that a man's heart might aye divine, Whereby with true love and courage a man woman's love may woo And show manhood's truth--Fruit-bearing it seedeth itself anew The plant of all woman's sorrow! From thy wounds grief shall ever grow-- So red was thy hair that the blossoms that bloom here thy corse below 805 Scarce redder may be with thy life-blood--All laughter hast thou forbid To fair women, and joy and gladness by thy death are for ever hid.' Thus Ither, beloved of all men, as a king in the grave was laid,-- With his life must he pay for his armour who taught sighing to many a maid, Since Parzival in his folly for the harness his death had sought, 810 Hereafter, when he won wisdom, he scarcely such deed had wrought! NOW this might ye mark in the charger, great labour it held as naught, Were it hot, were it cold, no journey the sweat on its coat had brought; It sped over stone or tree-trunk, and scarce was there need to draw The girth by one hole the tighter if the knight for two days it bore. 815 So fully armed, in his folly yet further he rode that day Than a wise man unarmed in two days if his steed he betimes would stay. And ever it onward galloped, and but seldom would walk or trot, How to check its speed by the bridle as yet Parzival knew not.