'And true love will I truly give him, thro' my sorrow-laden days, Such love as I sware unto him, when he, whom, all knights must praise, With sword, and shield, and helmet, and prowess of knightly deed Sought my love, and in true love's service won death for his glory's meed! Yet tho' ever a spotless maiden, my husband he, in God's sight, 125 Shall be, and if thoughts God counteth as deeds then is woven aright The bond that shall ever bind us, true husband and wife as true, For his death wrought my life such sorrow as waxeth for ever new. And this ring shall, I ween, be my witness when I stand in the sight of God Of a marriage vow and the tear-drops that bedew it are tears of blood.' 130 'Yea, 'tis I indeed, and none other, and the hero who here doth lie Is my knight, Schionatulander, and the maid of his love am I!' Then he knew 'twas the maid Siguné, and her sorrow it wrought him pain, And he lifted his helmet's visor ere he spake to the maid again. And she saw his head uncovered, and she saw his face gleam white 135 Thro' the rust of the iron harness, and she spake to the gallant knight: 'Is it thou, Parzival, my kinsman? Dost thou seek for the Grail to-day? Or its mighty power hast thou proven? Say, whither dost wend thy way?' Then he spake to the noble maiden, 'Alas! for my joy is fled, And the Grail hath but wrought me sorrow, and mischance in fair fortune's stead. 140 For the land that as king had crowned me must I leave, and yet more, I ween, The fairest of wives, and the sweetest, that ever a man hath seen. For no lovelier form I think me on earth of mankind was born, And I yearn for her tender greeting, and full sore for her love I mourn! And yet know I a deeper sorrow and I strive for a higher prize, 145 For the day when the Burg of Monsalväsch, and the Grail shall rejoice my eyes! Now, Siguné, dear my cousin, thou wast all too wroth with me, For heavy indeed my sorrow, yet thou fain wouldst my foeman be!'