world). For the purpose, Wolfram can hit on nothing better than to repeat the idea of an accidental encounter; Parzival is made to meet his pagan half brother, a king of India. Poetic necessity being thus satisfied, nothing remains but to have Cundrie, the Grail-maiden, conduct the brothers to Munsalvæsche, where Parzival is at last able to put the required question, and is recognized with joy as the destined healer of the sick Anfortas, whose successor he becomes. The conclusion requires an introduction; provision must be made for bringing on the scene this half brother. Accordingly, in a first book (to employ, for the sake of convenience, such modern division), the poet makes Gahmuret, as servant of the caliph (the Baruch in Wolfram's nomenclature), meet a heathen queen, with whom he has a temporary alliance, and who bears him a son, of color checkered between white and black. Deserting Belakane, Gahmuret proceeds to Waleis (Wolfram's transliteration of Gales, Wales, a country which to him was in the air), where he marries Herzeloyde, and himself ultimately falls in the cause of the caliph, leaving the widow to bring up her son Parzival, whom she endeavors to keep from knowledge of the chivalry which has cost her so dear.
In these ingenious additions, there appears to be nothing which need be supposed beyond the powers of Wolfram's own invention. The proper names, as seems to me, are quite enough to show that no French author had part in the composition, as indeed the entire action seems eminently characteristic of a German poet.
The portion of the poem which answers to Crestien's work exhibits several of those features noted as characteristic of later narratives. The persons are brought into relation by a complicated genealogical system; the parts of the action are carefully interwoven. Romantic episodes are introduced; thus Crestien introduces a lady who is mourning over her slain lover, and from whom the hero learns the mistake which he has made in failing to put the required inquiry; pleased with the situation, at a later time Wolfram shows us this damsel in the character of a nun of love, and at last exhibits a glimpse of her person as laid in death beside her lover. The Frenchman represents his youthful hero as listening with pleasure to the singing of birds in the forest; the German romantically represents the ambition of the childish Parzival as awakened by these songs. In the French, the mother counsels her departing son to observe the main rules of chivalry, to serve ladies, obey elders, and adore God. With the minnesinger, the advice becomes more extravagant; cautioned to avoid the attempt to ford streams which are not clear, the youth, literally obedient, keeps on one side of a runlet. The honor of wedded love is expressed in the
