Yet Parzival lay not lonely, for until the dawn of day Heart-sorrow would lie beside him, nor passed with the dawn away. And every coming anguish its heralds before would speed, 335 E'en so that the fair youth's vision out-weighed e'en his mother's need When she dreamed ere the death of her husband. As a carpet unrolled his dream, The centre of fair jousts woven, while the edge was with swords agleam. And in slumber his foemen pressed him, and would swiftly upon him ride; So fearful his dream that, wakened, thirty times had he rather died. 340 Thus fear and unrest awoke him, and the sweat streamed from every limb; The daylight shone fair thro' the windows, yet no voice had called on him. Then he spake, 'Where are now the pages, who stood before me of late? Who shall hand unto me my garments?' Then awhile would he patient wait Till slumber again o'ercame him; none spake, none aloud would cry, 345 Vanished the folk--When he wakened the noon-tide sun was high. Then he sprang up, and lo! before him on the carpet his harness lay, And two swords, his host's gift, and the other from Prince Ither he bare away. Then he spake to himself, 'Now wherefore was this done? I these arms will take, In sleep I such anguish suffered, methinks that I surely wake 350 To-day to some task of knighthood--If mine host doth some foeman fear Then his will will I do right gladly, and faithful her prayer will hear Who of true heart this mantle lent me--If my service she think to take Then I were for such service joyful; yet not for her sweet love's sake, For my wife hath a face as lovely as ever this castle's queen, 355 Nay more, an the truth be spoken she is fairer far I ween!' Then he did e'en as seemed him fitting, and he armed himself for fight From foot to head, and beside him he girded those swords of might. Then forth went the gallant hero, and his steed to the palace stair Was bound, shield and spear stood by it, and he joyed as he found them there. 360 Then ere Parzival, the hero, his charger would mount again, He sought thro' many a chamber, and he called on the folk amain, But none might he see or hearken, and it vexed the knight full sore, And wrathful he grew--Yet seeking, the hero he came once more To where he at eve dismounted when first he the castle found, 365 And the earth and grass were trampled, and the dew brushed from off the ground.