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THE MEDIAEVAL MIND
BOOK IV

Knight—came riding from the opposite direction. As he drew near the encampment of the king, his eye lighted on three drops of blood showing clear red in the fresh-fallen snow; in mid air above, a wild goose had been struck by a falcon. The knight paused in reverie—red and white—the colours carried his thoughts to his heart's queen, Condwiramurs. There he sat, as a statue on his horse, with poised spear; his thoughts had flown to her whose image now closed his eyes to all else. A lad spied the great knight, and ran breathless to Arthur, to tell of the stranger who seemed to challenge all the Round Table. Segramors gained Arthur's permission to accost him. Out he rode with ready challenge; Parzival neither saw nor heard, till his horse swerved at the knight's approach, so that he saw the drops no longer. Then his mighty lance fell in rest, Segramors was hurled to the ground, and took himself back discomfited, while Parzival returned to gaze on the drops of blood, lost in reverie as before. Now Kay the quarrelsome rode out, and roused the hero with a rude blow. The joust is run again, and Kay crawls back with broken leg and arm. Again Parzival loses himself in reverie. And now courtly Gawain, best of Arthur's knights, rides forth, unarmed. Courteously he addresses Parzival, who hears nothing, and sits moveless. Gawain bethinks him it is love that binds the knight. Seeing that Parzival is gazing on three drops of blood, he gently covers them with a silken cloth. Parzival's wits return; he moans: "Alas, lady wife of mine, what comes between us? A cloud has hidden thee." Then, astonished, he sees Gawain—a knight without lance or shield—does he come to mock? With noble courtesy Gawain disclosed himself and led the way to Arthur's Court, where fair ladies and the king greeted the hero whom they had come to seek. A festival was ordained in his honour. The fair company of knights and ladies are seated about the Round Table; the feast is at its height, when suddenly upon a gigantic mule, a scourge in her rough hand, comes riding the seeress Cundrie, harsh and unlovely. Straight she addresses Arthur: "Son of King Uterpendragon, you have shamed yourself and this high company, receiving Parzival, whom you call the Red Knight." She turns on