And kindly they spake, the maidens, and they bade the knight to stay, And with gracious mien they prayed naught might drive him from them away. And tho' cold was the frost and bitter, and it wrought not as summer's heat, Yet Parzival saw their lips glow so red, and soft, and sweet. (Tho' they wept for the death of the Saviour, such sorrow became them well.) 295 And here, had I cause for vengeance, an such happy chance befell, I never would speak them guiltless, but a kiss should their penance be, Nor against their will would I take it, of good-will should they give it me! For women shall aye be women, and tho' brave be the knight, and strong, Yet I ween is he oft the vanquished, nor the strife it endureth long! 300 With sweet words, and ways so gentle, they ever the knight would pray, Children alike and parents, and fain would they have him stay: Yet he thought, 'It were best I leave them, for e'en if I turn aside All too fair methinks are these maidens, 'twere unfitting that _I_ should ride While _they_ by my side walk barefoot--And 'tis better that we should part, 305 Since ever I bear Him hatred Whom they worship with lowly heart, And they look for His aid, Who ever hath turnèd His face from me, Nor from sorrow hath He withheld me, but hath wrought with me heavily!' 'Knight and Lady,' he quoth, 'I think me 'twere better I leave should pray, May good fortune be yours, and blessing, and fulness of joy alway, 310 And may you, ye gentle maidens, find reward in your courtesy, Since so well ye had thought to serve me, fair leave would I pray from ye!' He greeted them, low they bowed them, and greeted the knight again, Nor might they withhold their sorrow, for parting aye bringeth pain!