--Perceval¹, lines 74-81

"And thus his mother equipped him.

It took her roughly three days--

But she couldn't hold him a day

Longer. She spilled out tears

And kisses, weeping as she hugged him,

Saying, 'How sad it makes me,

Dear son, to see you leaving!

You'll go to the king's court

And you'll ask him for armor and weapons.

No one will tell him not to:

He'll give you what you need, I know

He will. But when it comes

To using what you've gotten, what then?

How will you know what to do,

When you've never done it before,

And never seen it done?

You'll manage badly, I know it:

As poorly prepared as you are,

How can you *not* do badly?'"

lines 505-523

"He could not wait any longer,

But said farewell. And his mother

Wept, as he sat in his saddle.

...

wherever he went

He carried three sharp wooden sticks,

And would have taken them with him,

Now, but his mother took away

Two, saying he looked

Too Welsh. She'd infinitely rather

Have taken all three, if she could.

...

Weeping bitterly, his mother

Kissed him (for she loved him dearly),

And prayed that God would guide him.

'Dear son,' she said, 'may the Lord

Grant you more joy, wherever

You go, than you leave behind you.'"

lines 599-619

Text: Perceval, Chrétien de Troyes (translation by Burton Raffel)

Graphic: Parsifal the Fool, Willy Pogàny (1912)

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Three of Wands page(s) created July 18, 2002 ; last updated: August 5, 2004.
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