whether his host felt no fear at seeing him ride up. "Believe me, no," answered the hermit; "I fear no man. I would not boast, but in my day my heart never quailed in the fight. I was a knight as you are, and had many sinful thoughts."
Having placed the horse in shelter beneath a cliff, the hermit led the knight into his cell. There was a fire of coals, before which Parzival was glad to warm himself and exchange his steel armour for a cloak; he seemed forest-weary. A door opened to an inner cell, where stood an altar, bearing the very reliquary on which Parzival had laid his hand in making oath. He told his host of this, and of the lance which he had found there and taken. "A friend of mine left it there, and chided with me afterwards. It is four years, six months, and three days since you took that spear; I will prove it to you from this Psalter."
"I did not know how long I had journeyed, lost and unhappy. I carry sorrow's weight. Sir, I will tell you more: from that time no man has seen me in church or minster, where they honour God. I have sought battles only. I also bear a hate for God. He is my trouble's sponsor: had He borne aid, my joy had not been buried living! My heart is sore. In reward of my many fights, sorrow has set on me a crown—of thorns. I bear a grudge against that Lord of aid, that me alone He helps not."
The host sighed, and looked at him; then spoke: "Sir, be wise. You should trust God well. He will help you, it is His office; He must help us both. Tell me with sober wits, how did your anger against Him arise? Learn from me His guiltlessness before you accuse Him. His aid is never withheld. Even I, a layman, can read the meaning of those unlying books; man must continue steadfast in service of Him who never wearies in His steady aid to sinking souls. Keep troth, for God is troth. Deceit is hateful to Him. We should be grateful; in our behalf His nobility took on the form of man. God is called, and is, truth. He can turn from no one; teach your thoughts never to turn from Him. You can force nothing from Him with your wrath. Whoever sees you carry hate toward Him will deem you sick of wit. Think of Lucifer and all his comrades. Hell was their reward. When Lucifer and
