Parzival: "Disgrace fall on your proud form and strength! Sir Parzival, tell me, how came it that you met that joyless fisher, and did not help him? He showed you his pain, and you, false guest, had no pity for him. Abhorred by all good men, marked for hell by heaven's Highest, you ban of happiness and curse of joy! No leech can heal your sickened honour. Greater betrayal never shamed a man so goodly. Your host gave you a sword; you saw them bear the Grail, the silver dishes, and the bloody spear, and you, dishonoured Parzival, were silent. You failed to win earth's chiefest prize; your father had not done so—are you his son? Yes, for Herzeloide was as true as he. Woe's me, that Herzeloide's child has so let honour slip!" Cundrie wrung her hands; her tears fell fast; she turned her mule and cried: "Woe, woe to thee Munsalvaesch, mount of pain; here is no aid for thee!" And bidding none farewell, she rode away, leaving Parzival to his shame, the knights to their astonishment, the ladies to their tears.
Cundrie was hardly out of sight, before another shame was put on the Round Table. An armed knight rode in, and, accusing Gawain of murdering his king and cousin, summoned him to mortal combat within forty days before the King of Askalon. Arthur himself was ready to do battle for Gawain, but that good knight accepted the challenge with all courtesy.
Parzival's lineage was first known to the Court from Cundrie's calling him by name and speaking of his mother. Now Clamide, once Condwiramurs's cruel wooer, begged the hero to intercede for him with another fair one, the lady Cunneware. Parzival courteously complied. A heathen queen then saluted him with the news that he had a great heathen half-brother, Feirefiz, the son of Parzival's father by a heathen queen. Thanking her, Parzival spoke to the company: "I cannot endure Cundrie's reproach; what knight here does not look askance? I will seek no joy until I find the Grail, be the quest short or long. The worthy Gurnemanz bade me refrain from questions. Honoured knights, your favour is for me to win again, for I have lost it. Me yet unshamed you took into your company; I release you. Let sorrow be my comrade; for I forsook
