Then homeward they turned at even when the board for the feast was spread, And the prince bade his daughter hither (for so I the tale have read) 1055 As he saw the maid draw near him the host to Liassé spake, 'To this knight shalt thou do all honour, and a kiss from his lips shalt take, With Good Fortune for guide he fareth! And of _thee_ would I pray this thing, If token perchance she beareth, thou wilt leave to the maid her ring-- Yet none hath she, nor clasp--Who should give her what that forest princess wore? 1060 For _she_ won from the hand of her husband what thine hand from her raiment tore, From _Liassé_ canst thou take little'--Then the lad he must blush for shame, On her lips did kiss the maiden, and her mouth it was red as flame. And Liassé was fair to look on, and gentle of heart and pure, And a hero might well have loved her with a love that should aye endure. 1065 Full long and low was the table, nor many might sit thereat, At its head was the prince so kindly, and his guest by his side he set Betwixt him and his daughter, and the maiden with snow-white hand Must carve, as he willed, for the Red Knight, so her father would give command, And courteous, she did his bidding, and none did the twain prevent 1070 As shy glances rosy-blushing, they each to the other sent! The feast over, the maiden left them, but she bade not the guest 'Farewell,' For twice seven days in honour Parzival with his host did dwell. But within his heart lay a sorrow, 'twas no other I ween than this, He would he enough had striven to be worthy of wedded bliss, 1075 And he thought him a goal so worthy must lead to a guerdon high Both in this life and e'en in the other--And these words they shall be no lie. One morning for leave he prayed him, from Graharz he fain would ride, And his host, sore loth to lose him, awhile rode his steed beside. Fresh sprang of grief the fountain as the prince spake, 'I lose once more 1080 A son, Death of _three_ hath robbed me, thy loss now shall make them _four_. And threefold it was, my sorrow--Who my heart would in pieces smite Fourfold and from hence would bear them, in the pain should I find delight. _One_ for thee, since thou ridest from me, and _three_ for my three sons slain-- Bravely they fell in battle, such guerdon doth knighthood gain!' 1085