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 ALFRED TKNNVSON. 
 
 ILUUSTHATED BY SOL. I:YTIN(;K, JH. 
 
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 THE LAST TOURNAMENT. 
 
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 LAST TOURNAMENT. 
 
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 ALFRED TENNYSON. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY SOL, EYTINGE, JR. 
 
 TORONTO : 
 
 THE CANADIAN NEWS & PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 1872. 
 
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 THE LAST TOURNAMENT. 
 
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 AGONET, the fool, whom Gawain in his moods 
 
 Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table 
 Round, 
 
 At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods, 
 
 " DANCED LIKE A WITHER'd LEAF BEFORE THE HALL." 
 
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 Danced like a wither'd leaf before the Hall. 
 
 And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand, 
 
 And from the crown thereof a carcanet 
 
 Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize 
 
 Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday. 
 
 Came Tristram, saying, " Why skip ye so, Sir Fool ?" 
 
 For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once 
 Far down beneath a winding wall of rock 
 Heard a child wail A stump of oak half-dead, 
 From roots like some black coil of carven snakes 
 Clutch'd at the crag, and started thro' mid-air 
 Bearing an eagle's nest : and thro' the tree 
 Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' the wind 
 Pierced ever a child's cry : and crag and tree 
 Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest, 
 This ruby necklace thrice around her neck, 
 And all unscarr'd from beak or talon, brought 
 A maiden babe ; which Arthur pitying took, 
 Then gave it to his Queen to rear : the Queen 
 But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms 
 Received, and after loved it tenderly, 
 
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 And named it Nestling ; so forgot herself 
 A moment, and her cares ; till that young life 
 Being smitten in mid-heaven with mortal cold 
 Past from her ; and in time the carcanet 
 Vext her with plaintive memories of the child : 
 So she, delivering it to Arthur, said, 
 "Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence, 
 And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize." 
 
 
 To whom the King, " Peace to thine eagle-borne 
 Dead nestling, and this honor after death. 
 Following thy will ! but, O my Queen, I muse 
 Why ye not \vear on arm, or neck, or zone 
 Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn, 
 And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear." 
 
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 " Would rather ye had lot them fall," she cried, 
 " Plunge and be lost— ill-fated as they were, 
 A bitterness to me ! — ye look amazed, 
 Not knowing* they were lost as soon as given — 
 Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out 
 Above the river — that unhappy child 
 

 
 
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 8 
 
 Past in her barge : but rosier luck will go " 
 
 With these rich jewels, seeing that they came 
 
 Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer, 
 
 But the sweet body of a maiden babe. 
 
 Perchance — who knows ? — the purest of thy knights 
 
 May win them for the purest of my maids." 
 
 She ended, and the cry of a great jousts 
 With trumpet-blowings ran on all the ways 
 From Camelot in among the faded fields 
 To furthest towers ; and everywhere the knights 
 Arm'd for a day of glory before the King. 
 
 But on the hither side of that loud morn 
 Into the hall stagger'd, his visage ribb'd 
 From ear to ear with dogwhip weals, his nose 
 Bridge-broken, one eye out, and one hand off, 
 And one with shatter'd fingers dangling lame, 
 A churl, to whom indignantly the King, 
 
 '* My churl, for whom Christ died, what evil beast 
 Hath drawn his claws athwart thy face ? or fiend ? 
 Man was it who marr'd Heaven's image in thee thus?" 
 
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 Then, sputtering thro' the hedge of splinter'd teeth, 
 Yet strangers to the tongue, and with blunt stump 
 Pitch-blacken'd sawing tlie air, said the maim'd churl, 
 
 " He took them and he drave them to his tower — 
 Some hold he was a Tabic ; -light of thine — 
 A hundred goodly ones — the Red Knight, he — 
 Lord, I was tending swine, and the Red Knight 
 Brake in upon me and drave them to his tower ; 
 And when I call'd upon thy name as one 
 That doest right by gentle and by churl, 
 Maim'd me and maul'd, and would outright have slain, 
 Save that he sware me to a message, saying — 
 ' Tell thou the King and all his liars, that I 
 Have founded my Round Table in the North,' 
 And whatsoever his own knights have sworn 
 My knights have sworn the counter to it — and say 
 My tower is full of harlots, like his court. 
 But mine are worthier, seeing they profess 
 To be none other than themselves — and say 
 My knights are all adulterers like his own, 
 But mine are truer, seeing they profess 
 To be none other ; and say his hour is come, 
 
 
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 The heathen are upon him, his long lance 
 Broken, and his Excalibur a straw.' " 
 
 Then Arthur turn'd to Kay the seneschal, 
 *' Take thou my churl, and tend him curiously 
 Like a king's heir, till all his hurts be whole. 
 The heathen — but that ever-climbing wave, 
 Hurl'd back again so often in empty foam. 
 Hath lain for years at rest — and renegades, 
 Thieves, bandits, leavings of confusion, whom 
 The wholesome realm is purged of otherwhere, — 
 Friends, thro' your manhood and your fealty, — now 
 Make their last head like Satan in the North. 
 My younger knights, ne\v-made, in whom your flower 
 Waits to be solid fuiit of golden deeds, 
 Move with me toward their quelling, which achieved, 
 The loneliest ways are safe from shore to shore. 
 But thou, Sir Lancelot, sitting in my place, 
 Enchair'd to-morrow, arbitrate the field ; 
 For wherefore shouldst thou care to mingle with it, 
 Only to yield my Queen her own again ? 
 Speak, Lancelot, thou art silent : is it well ?" 
 
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 Thereto Sir Lancelot answer'd, " It is well : 
 Yet better it" the King abide, and leave 
 The leading of his younger knights to me. 
 Else, for the King has will'd it, it is well." 
 
 Then Arthur rose, and Lancelot follow'd him, 
 And while they stood without the doors, the King 
 Turn'd to him, saying, " Is it then so well ? 
 Or mine the blame that oft I seem as he 
 Of whom was written, * a sound is in his ears ' — 
 The foot that loiters, bidden go, — the glance 
 That only seems half-loyal to command, — ■ 
 A manner somewhat fall'n from reverence — 
 Or have I dream'd the bearing of our knights 
 Less manful and less gentle than when of old 
 We swept the heathen from the Roman wall ? 
 Or whence the fear lest this my realm, uprear'd, 
 By noble deeds at one with noble vows. 
 From flat confusion and brute violences, 
 Reel back into the beast, and be no more ?" 
 
 He spoke, and t iking all his younger knights, 
 Down the slope city rode, and sharply turn'd 
 
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 North by the gate. In her high bower the Queen, 
 Working a tapestry, lifted up her head, 
 Watched her lord pass, and knew not that she sigh'd. 
 Then ran across her memory the strange rhyme 
 Of by-gone Merlin, " Where is he who knows ? ' 
 From the great deep to the great deep he goes." 
 
 But when the morning of a tournament. 
 By these in earnest those in mockery call'd 
 The Tournament of the Dead Innocence, 
 Brake with a wet wind blowing, Lancelot, 
 Round whose sick head all night, like birds of prey, 
 The words of Arthur flying shriek'd, arose. 
 And down a streetway hung with folds of pure 
 White samite, and'by fountains running wine. 
 Where children sat in white with cups of gold, 
 Moved to the lists, and there, with slow sad steps 
 Ascending, fiU'd his double-dragon'd chair. 
 
 He glanced and saw the stately galleries. 
 Dame, damsel, each thro' worship of their Queen 
 White-robed in honor of the stainless child. 
 And some with scatter'd jewels, like a bank 
 
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 Of maiden snow mingled with sparks of fire. 
 He lookt but once, and veil'd his eyes again. 
 
 The sudden trumpet sounded as in a dream 
 To ears but half-awaked, then one low roll 
 Of Autumn thunder, and the jousts began : 
 And ever the wind blew, and yellowing leaf 
 And gloom and gleam, and shower and shorn plume 
 Went down it. Sighing weariedly, as one 
 Who sits and gazes on a faded fire. 
 When all the goodlier guests are past away, 
 Sat their great umpire, looking o'er the lists. 
 He saw the laws that ruled the tournament 
 Broken, but spake not ; once, a knight cast down 
 Before his throne of arbitration cursed 
 The dead babe and the follies of the King : 
 And once the laces of a helmet crack'd, 
 And show'd him, like a vermin in its hole, 
 Modred, a narrow face : anon he heard 
 The voice that billow'd round the barriers roar 
 An ocean-sounding welcome to one knight, 
 But newly-enter'd, taller than the rest. 
 And armor'd all in forest green, whereon 
 
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 14 
 
 There tript a hundred tiny silver deer, 
 
 And wearing but a holly-spray for crest, 
 
 With ever-scattering berries, and on the shield 
 
 A spear, a harp, a bugle— Tristram— late 
 
 From overseas in Brittany return'd, • 
 
 And marriage with a princess of that realm, 
 
 I§olt the White— Sir Tristram of the Woods— 
 
 Whom Lancelot knew, had held sometime with pain 
 
 His own against him, and now yearn'd to shake 
 
 The burthen off his heart in one full shock 
 
 With Tristram ev'n to death ; his strong hands gript 
 
 And dinted the gilt dragons right and left. 
 
 Until he groaned for wrath — so many knights 
 
 That ware their ladies' colours on the casque, 
 
 Drew from before Sir Tristram to the bounds. 
 
 And there with gibes and flickering mockeries 
 
 Stood, while he mutter'd, " Craven crests ! O shame ! 
 
 What fcith have these in whom they sware to love ? 
 
 The glory of our Round Table is no more." 
 
 So Tristram won, and Lancelot gave, the gems. 
 Not speaking other word than " Hast thou won ? 
 Art thou the purest, brother ? See, the hand 
 
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 Wherewith thou takest this, is red !" to whom 
 Tristram, half plagued by Lancelot's languorous mood, 
 Made answer, " Ay, but wherefore toss me this 
 Like a dry bone cast to some hungry hound ? 
 Let be thy fair Queen's fantasy. Strength of heart 
 And might of limb, but mainly use and skill, 
 Are winners in this pastime of our King. 
 My hand— beliLe the lance hath diipt upon it- 
 No blood of mine, I trow ; But O, chief knight. 
 Right arm of Arthur in the battle-field. 
 Great brother, thou nor I have made the world ; 
 Be happy in thy fair Queen as I in mine." 
 
 And Tristram round the gallery made his horse 
 Caracole ; then bow'd his homage, bluntly saying, 
 " Fair damsels, each to him who worsh)ps each 
 Sole Queen of Beauty and of love, behold 
 This day my Queen of Beauty is not here." 
 Then most of these were mute, some anger'd, one 
 Murmuring " All courtesy is dead," and one, 
 " The glory of our Round Table is no more." 
 
 Then fell thick rain, plume droopt and mantle clung, 
 
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 And pettish cries awoke, and the wan day 
 Went glooming down in wet and weariness : 
 But under her black brows a swarthy dame 
 Laught shrilly, crying "Praise the patient saints, 
 Our one white day of Innoctnce hath past, 
 Tho' somewhat draggled at the skirt. So be it. 
 The snowdrop only, flow'ring thro' the year, 
 Would make the World as blank as Winter-tide. • 
 Come — let us comfort their sad eyes, our Queen's 
 And Lancelot's, at this night's solemnity 
 With all the kindlier colors of the field." 
 
 So dame and damsel glitter'd at the feast 
 Variously gay : for he that tells the tale 
 Liken'd them, saying "as when an hour of cold 
 Falls on the mountain in midsummer snows, 
 And all the purple slopes of mountain flowers 
 Pass under white, till the warm hour returns 
 With veer of wind, and all are flowers again : 
 So dame and damsel cast the simple white, 
 And glowing in all colors, the live grass, 
 Rose-campion, bluebell, kingcup, poppy, glanced 
 About the revels, and with mirth so loud 
 
 
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 Beyond all use, that, half-amazed, the Queen, 
 And wroth at Tristram and the lawless jousts, 
 Brake up their sports, then slowly to her bower 
 Parted, and in her bosom pain was lord. 
 
 And little Dagonet on the morrow morn, 
 High over all the yellowing Autumn-tide, 
 Danc'd like a wither'd leaf before the Hall. 
 Then Tristram saying, '' Why skip ye so. Sir Fool ?" 
 Wheel'd round on either heel, Dagonet replied, 
 " Belike for lack of wiser company ; 
 Or being fool, and seeing too much wit 
 Makes the world rotten, why, belike I skip 
 To know myself the wisest knight of all." 
 " Ay, fool," said Tristram, '' but 'tis eating dry 
 To dance without a catch,*a roundelay 
 To dance to." Then he t wangled on his harp. 
 And while he twangled little Dagonet stood. 
 Quiet as any water-sodden log 
 Stay'd in the wandering warble of a brook ; 
 But when the twangling ended, skipt again ; 
 Then being ask'd, " Why skipt ye not. Sir Fool ?" 
 Made answer, " I had liefer -nty years 
 Skip to the broken music of my brains 
 Than any broken music ye can make." 
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 Then Tristram, waiting for the quip to come, 
 
 •' Good now, what music have I broken, fool ?" 
 
 And Httle Dagonet, skipping, '* Arthur the king's ; 
 
 For when thou playest that air with Queen Isolt, 
 
 Thou makest broken music with thy bride, 
 
 Her daintier namesake down in Brittany — 
 
 And so thou breakest Arthur's music too." 
 
 " Save for that broken music in thy brains. 
 
 Sir Fool," said Tristram, " I would break thy head. 
 
 Fool, I came late, the heathen wars were o'er, 
 
 The life had flown, we sware but by the shell — 
 
 I am but a fool to reason with a fool — 
 
 Come, thou art crabb'd and sour ; but lean me down. 
 
 Sir Dagonet, one of thy long asses' ears, 
 
 And hearken if my music be not true. 
 
 " 'Free love — free field — we love but while we may: 
 The woods are hush'd, their music is no more: 
 The leaf is dead, the yearning past away : 
 New leaf, new life — the days of frost are o'er : 
 New life, new love to suit the newer day : 
 New loves are sweet as those that went before : 
 Free love — free field — we love but while we may.' 
 
 "Ye might have moved slow-measure to my tune, 
 Not stood stockstill. I made it in the woods, 
 And found it ring as true as tested gold." 
 
 
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 "but dagonet, with one foot poised in his hand." 
 
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 But Dagonet, with one foot poised in his hand, 
 " Friend, did ye mark that fountain yesterday 
 Made to run wine ? — but this had run itself 
 All out like a long life to a sour end — 
 All them that round it sat with golden cups 
 T*^^ hand the wine to whomsoever came— 
 The twelve small damosels white as Innocence, 
 
 In honor of poor Innocence the babe, 
 
 Who left the gems which Innocence the Queen 
 
 Lent to the King, and Innocence the King 
 
 Gave for a prize — and one of those white slips 
 
 Handed her cup and piped, the pretty one, 
 
 * Drink, drink, Sir Fool,' and thereupon I drank, 
 
 Spat — pish — the cup was gold, the draught was mud." 
 
 And Tristram, " Was it muddier than thy gibes ? 
 
 Is all the laughte acne dead out of thee 1 — 
 
 Not marking how h k.aghliood mock thee, fool — 
 
 'Fear God: hono' .' ~ '^i^.g — his <■ ic true knight — ■ 
 Sole follower of the vows ' — for here be they 
 
 Who knew thee swine enow before I came, 
 Smuttier than blasted grain; but when the King 
 Had made thee fool, thy vanity so shot up 
 
 It frighted ail free fool from out thy heart ; 
 
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 21 
 
 Which left thee less than fool, and less than swine, 
 
 A naked aught — yet swine I hold thee still, 
 
 For I have flung thee pearls and find thee swine." 
 
 And little Dagonet, mincing with his feet, 
 " Knight, an ye fling those rubies round my neck 
 In lieu of hers, I'll hold thou hast some touch 
 Of music, since I care not for thy pearls. 
 Swine? I have wallow'd, I have wash'd— the world 
 Is flesh and shadow— I have had my day. 
 The dirty nurse. Experience, in her kind 
 Hath foul'd me— an I wallow'ci, then I wash'd — 
 I have had my day and my philosophies — 
 And thank the Lord I am King Arthur's fool. 
 Swine, say ye ? swine, goats, asses, rams, and geese 
 Troop'd round a Paynim harper once, who thrumm'd 
 On such a wire as musically as thou 
 Some such fine song — but never a king's fool." 
 
 And Tristram, "Then were swine, goats, asses, 
 geese 
 The wiser fools, seeing thy Paynim bard 
 Had such a mastery of his mystery 
 
 Thq*- hf^ nf\^^\A horr\ hie wifp nn nut df hpll." 
 
22 
 
 Then Dagonet, 'turning- on the bail of his foot, 
 
 "And whither harp'st thou thine? down! and thy- 
 self 
 
 Down ! and two more : a helpful harper thou, 
 That harpest downward! Dost thou know the star 
 We call the harp of Arthur up in heaven?" 
 
 And Tristram, " Ay, Sir Fool, for when our King 
 Was victor wellnigh day by day, the knights. 
 Glorying in each new glory, set his name 
 High on all hills, and in the signs of heaven." 
 
 And Dagonet answer'd, " Ay, and when the land 
 Was freed, and the Queen false, ye set yourself 
 To babble about him, all to show your wit — 
 And whether he were king by courtesy. 
 Or king by right — and so went harping down 
 The black king's highway, got so far, and grew 
 So v/itty that ye play'd at ducks and drakes 
 With Arthur's vows on t'le great lake of fire, 
 Tuwhoo ! do ye see it ? do ye see the star ?" 
 
 "Nay, fool," said Tristram, "not in open day." 
 ^\nd Dagonet, " Nay, nor will : I se^ it and Jie^r. 
 
23 
 
 It makes a silent music up in heaven, 
 
 And I, and Arthur and the angels hear, 
 
 And then we skip." " Lo, fool," he said, " ye talk 
 
 Fool's treason : is the king thy brother fool?" 
 
 Then litde Dagonet clapt his hands and shrill'd, 
 
 " Ay, ay, my brother fool, the king of fools ! 
 
 Conceits himself as God that he can make 
 
 Figs out of thisdes, silk from brisUes, milk 
 
 From burning spurge, honey from hornet-combs, 
 
 And men from beasts— Long live the king of fools !" 
 
 And down the city Dagonet danced away, 
 But thro' the slowly-mellowing avenues 
 And solitary passes of the wood 
 Rode Tristram toward Lyonesse and the west. 
 Before him fled the face of Queen Isolt 
 With ruby-circled neck, but evermore 
 Past, as a rusde or twitter in the wood 
 Made dull his inner, keen his outer eye 
 For all that walk'd, or crept, or perched, or flew, 
 Anon the face, as, when a gust hath blown, 
 Unruffling waters re-collect the shape 
 Of one that in them sees himself, return'd ; 
 

 But at the slot or fewmets of a deer, 
 Or ev'n a fairn feather, vanish'd again. 
 
 So on for all that day from lawn to lawn 
 Thro' many a league-long bower he rode. At length 
 A lodge of intertwisted beechen-boughs 
 Furze-cramm'd, and bracken-rooft, the which him- 
 self 
 Built for a summer day with Queen Isolt 
 Against a shower, dark in the golden grove 
 Appearing, sent his fancy back to where 
 She lived a moon in that low lodge with him : 
 Till Mark her Lord had past, the Cornish king, 
 With six or seven, when Tristram was away, 
 
 And snatch'd her thence; yet dreading worse than 
 shame' 
 
 Her warrior Tristram, spake not any word, 
 
 But bode his hour, devising wrrtchedness. 
 
 And now that desert lodge to Tristram lookt 
 
 So sweet, that halting, in he past, and sank 
 
 Down on a drift of foliage random-blown ; 
 
 But could not rest for musing how to smooth 
 
 And sleek his marriage over to the Queen. 
 
 fc.T>..., ,.i, .,t.j^ ..■■-«...,.„t-..'.-.L,-i-m:rrTrr:prg-r:— — i-i-r^--.'.. ' ■• . .. -^- ■, m; f ■•_. ._.j..i . , ■ .^ 
 
'^•■I ■■■«IIJilOT« 
 
 Perchance in lone Tintagil far from all 
 
 The tonguesters of the court she had not heard. 
 
 But then what folly had sent him overseas 
 
 After she left him lonely here ? a name ? 
 
 Was it the name of one in Brittany, 
 
 Isolt, the daughter of the King ? " Isolt 
 
 Of the white hands " they called her : the sweet name 
 
 Allured him first, and then the maid herself. 
 
 Who served him well with those white hands of hers, 
 
 And loved him well, until himself had thought 
 
 He loved her also, wedded easily, 
 
 But left her all as easily, and return'd. 
 
 The black-blue Irish hair and Irish eyes 
 
 Had drawn him home— what marvel ? then he laid 
 
 His brows upon the drifted leaf and dream'd. 
 
 He seemed to pace the strand of Brittany 
 
 Between Isolt of Britain and his bride. 
 
 And show'd them both the ruby-chain, and both 
 
 Began to struggle for it, till his Queen 
 
 Graspt it so hard, that all her hand was red. 
 
 Then cried the Breton, " Look her hand is red ! 
 
 These be no rubies, this is frozen blood, 
 4 
 
 i^ 
 
 "-' mrtiMi I 
 
Ha» 
 
 g i' I ' Mi- 
 
 3.6 
 
 And melts within her hand — her hand is hot 
 With ill desires, but this I give thee, look, 
 Is all as cool and white as any flower." 
 Followed a rush of eagle's wings, and then 
 A whimpering of the spirit of the child, 
 Because the twain had spoiled her carcanet. 
 
 He dream'd ; but Arthur with a hundred spears 
 Rode far, till o'er the illimitable reed, 
 And many a glancing plash and sallowy isle, 
 The wide-wing'd sunset of the misty marsh 
 Glared on a huge machiolated tower 
 That stood with open doors, whereout was roU'd 
 A roar of riot, as from men secure 
 Amid their marshes, ruffians at their ease 
 Among their harlot-brides, an evil song. 
 " Lo, there,'' said one of Arthur's youth, for there, 
 High on a grim dead tree before the tower, 
 A goodly brother of The Table Round 
 Swung by the neck : and on the boughs a shield 
 Showing a shower of blood in a field noir, 
 And therebeside a horn, inflamed the knights 
 At that dishonour done the gilded spur, 
 
 
 |:' 
 
 I 
 

 27 
 
 Till each would clash the shield and blow the horn. 
 
 But Arthur waved them back : alone he rode. 
 
 Then at the dry harsh roar of the great horn, 
 
 That sent the face of all the marsh a^oft 
 
 An ever upward rushing storm and cloud 
 
 Of shriek and plume, the Red Knight heard, and all, 
 
 Even to tipmost lance and topmost helm, 
 
 In blood-red armour sallying, howl'd to the King, 
 
 " The teeth of Hell flay bare and gnash thee flat !— 
 Lo! art thou not that eunuch-hearted King 
 Who fain had dipt free-manhood from the world— 
 The woman-worshipper ? Yea, God's curse, and I 1 
 Slain was the brother of my paramour 
 By a knight of thine, and I that heard her whine 
 And snivel, being eunuch-hearted too, 
 Sware by the scorpion-worm that twists in hell. 
 And stings itself to everlasting death. 
 To hang whatever knight of thine I fought 
 And tumbled. Art thou king?— Look to thy life ! " 
 
 He ended : Arthur knew the voice : the face 
 Wellnigh was helmet-hidden, and the name 
 Went wandering somewhere darkling in his mind. 
 
 grrrr 
 
 "•:.— T-~--^j 
 
2Bl 
 
 And Arthur deign'd not use of word or sword, 
 But let the drunkard, as he stretch'd from horse 
 To strike him, overbalancing his bulk, 
 Down from the causeway heavily to the swamp 
 
 Fall, as the crest of some slow-arching wave 
 
 Heard in dead night along that table-shore 
 
 Drops flat, and a,fter the great waters break 
 
 Whitening for half a league and thin themselves 
 
 Far over sands marbled with moon and cloud, 
 
 From less and less to nothing ; thus he fell 
 
 Head-heavy, while the knights who watched him, 
 roar'd 
 
 And shouted and leapt down upon the fall'n ; 
 
 There trampled out his face from being known, 
 
 And sank his head in mire, and slimed themselves : 
 
 Nor heard the King for their own cries, but sprang 
 
 Thro' open doors, and swording right and left 
 
 Men, women, on their sodden faces, hurl'd 
 
 The tables over and the wines, and slew 
 
 Till all the rafters rang with woman-yells. 
 
 And all the pavement streamed with massacre : 
 
 Then, yell with yell echoing, they fired the tower. 
 Which half that autumn night, like the live North, 
 
 SSiS 
 
f JLM ^ >W F > WI 
 
 29 
 
 Red-pulsing up thro' Alioth ?ind Alcor, 
 
 Made all above it, and a hundred meres 
 
 About it, as the water Moab saw 
 
 Come round by the East, and out beyond them flush'd 
 
 The long low dune, and lazy-plunging sea. 
 
 So all the ways were safe from shpre to shore> 
 But in the heart of Arthur pain was lord. 
 
 Then out of Tristram waking the red dream 
 
 Fled with a shout, and that low lodge return'd, 
 
 Mid-forest, and the wind among the boughs. 
 
 He whistled his good war-horse left to graze- 
 
 Among the forest greens, vaulted upon him, 
 
 And rode beneath an ever showering leaf. 
 
 Till one lone woman, weeping near a cross, 
 
 Stay'd him, " Why weep ye?" " Lord," she said, 
 " my man 
 
 Hath left me or is dead ; " whereon he thought— « 
 
 " What, an slie hate me now ? I would not this. 
 
 What, an she love me still ? I would not that. 
 
 I know not what I would " — but said to her — 
 
 " Yet weep not thou, lest, if thy mate return, 
 
 0iHkmmiftA rami 
 
 .,fi>ifi -m iiiiihi 
 
 'rii-iir-**rf—° ^T*-''""""— — ^'~ -■■■-'■--"• 
 
I 
 
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 30 
 
 He find thy favor changed, and love thee not." — 
 
 Then pressing day by day through Lyonesse 
 
 Last in a rocky hollow, belling, heard 
 
 The hounds of Mark, and felt the goodly hounds 
 
 Yelp at his heart, but turning, past and gain'd 
 
 Tintagil, half in sea, and high on land, 
 
 A crown of towers. 
 
 Down in a casement sat, 
 A low sea-sunset glorying round her hair ' 
 And glossy-throated grace, Isolt the Queen. 
 And when she heard the feet of Tristram grind 
 The spiring stone that scaled about her tower. 
 Flushed, started, met him at the doors, and there 
 Belted his body with her white embrace. 
 Crying aloud, " Not Mark— not Mark, my soul, 
 The footstep flutter'd me at first ; not he ; 
 Cat-like thro' his own castle steals my Mark, 
 But warrior-wise thou stridest thro' his halls 
 Who hates thee, as I him— ev'n to the death. 
 My soul, I felt my hatred for my Mark 
 Quicken within me, and knew that thou wert nigh." 
 To whom Sir Tristram smiling, " I am here. 
 
 '—^■'-^■■.ics^'.-j.H:-' 
 
 ■^Vi-tT ■•'Pfl'"», 
 
■**IJMMfatl|«lij<^^ 
 
 31 
 
 Let be thy Mark, seeing he is not thine." 
 
 i 
 
 And drawing somewhat backward, she replied, 
 
 " Can he be wrong'd who is not ev'n his own, 
 
 But save for dread of thee had beaten me, 
 
 Scratch'd, bitten, blinded, marr'd me somehow 
 Mark ? 
 
 What rights are his that dare not strike for them ? 
 Not lift a hand— not tho' he found me thus ! 
 But hearken, have ye met him ? hence he went 
 To-day for three day's hunting— as he said— 
 And so returns belike within an hour. 
 Mark's way, my soul !— but eat not thou with him, 
 Because he hates thee even more than fears ; 
 Nor drink : and when thou passest any wood 
 Close visor, lest an arrow from the bush 
 Should leave me all alone with Mark and hell. 
 My God, the measure of my hate for Mark, 
 Is as the measure of my love for thee." 
 
 So, pluck'd one way by hate, and one by love, 
 Drain'd of her force, again she sat, and spake 
 To Tristram, as he knelt before her, saying, 
 
r?5 
 
 ill »i>i— <■ 
 
 m^'mmvttx 
 
 I 
 i 
 
 32 
 
 " O hunter, and O blower of the horn, 
 
 Harper, and thou hast been a rover too, 
 
 For, ere I mated with my shambling king, 
 
 Ye twain had fallen out about the bride 
 
 Of one— his name is out of me— the prize 
 
 If prize she were— (what marvel— she could see)-^ 
 
 Thine, friend : and ever since my craven seeks 
 
 To wreck thee villanously : but, O Sir Knight, 
 
 What dame or damsel have ye kneeled to last ?" 
 
 And Tristram, " Last to my Queen Paramount, 
 Here now to my Queen Par^imount of love, 
 And loveliness, ay, lovelier than when first 
 Her light feet fell on our rough Lyonesse, 
 Sailing from Ireland," 
 
 Softly laughed Isolt, 
 " Flatter me not, for hath not our great Queen 
 My dole of beauty trebled ?" and he said 
 " Her beauty is her beauty, and thine thine. 
 And thine is more to me— soft, gracious, kind— 
 Save when thy Mark is kindled on thy lips 
 
 '"■■-*^' *•"■- n -• 
 
 imiLm;^:^tauu 
 
 J 
 
"rrr 
 
 I 33 
 
 Most gracious : but she, haughty, even to him, 
 Lancelot ; for I have seen him wan enow 
 To make one doubt if ever the great Queen 
 Have yielded him her love." 
 
 To whom Isolt, 
 " Ah then, false hunter and false harper, thou 
 Who brakest thro' the scruple of my bond, 
 Calling me thy white hind, and saying to me 
 That Guinevere had sinned against the highest. 
 And I— misyoked with such a want of man- 
 That I could hardly sin against the lowest." 
 
 He answer'd, " O my soul, be comforted ! 
 If this be sweet, to sin in leading strings. 
 If here be comfort, and if ours be sin, 
 Crown'd warrant had we for the crowning sin 
 That made us happy : but how ye greet me— fear 
 And fault and doubt— no word of that fond tale— 
 Thy deep heart-yearning, thy sweet memories 
 Of Tristram in that year he was away." 
 
 And, saddening on the sudden, spake Isolt, 
 " I had forgotten all in my strong joy 
 To see thee— yearnings ?-ay ! for, hour by hour, 
 Here in the never-ended afternoon, 
 sweeter than all memories of thee 
 5 
 
34 
 
 Deeper than any yearnings after thee 
 Seemed those far-rolling, westward-smiling seas. 
 Watched from this tower. Isolt of Britain dash'd 
 Before Isolt of Brittany on the strand» 
 Would that have chill'd her bride-kiss? Wedded her? 
 Fought in her father's battles ? wounded there ? 
 The Kmg was all fulfill'd with gratefulness, 
 And she, my namesake of the hands, that heal'd 
 Thy hurt and hoart with unguent and caress- 
 Well— can I wish her any huger wrong 
 Than having known thee ? her too hast thou left 
 To pine and waste in those sweet memories ? 
 O were I not my Mark's, by whom all men 
 Are noble, I should hate thee more than love." 
 
 And Tristram, fondling her light hands, replied. 
 "Grace, Queen, for being loved : she loved me well. 
 Did I love her? the name at least I loved. 
 Isolt?— I fought his battles, for Isolt I 
 The night was dark : the true star set .'—Isolt ! 
 The name was ruler of the dark— Isolt ? 
 Care not for her ! patient, and prayerful, meek, 
 Pale-blooded, she will yield herself to God." 
 
 And Isolt answer'd, " Yea, and why not I ? 
 Mine is the larger need, who am not meek. 
 Pale-blooded, prayerful Let me tell thee now. . : 
 
 ^ 
 
■fc 
 
 - 
 
 35 
 
 Here one black, mnte midsummer night I sate 
 Lonely, but musing on thee, wondering where, 
 Murmuring a light song I had heard thee sing. 
 And once or twice I spake thy name aloud. 
 Then flash'd a levin-brand : and near me stood, 
 In fuming sulphur blue and green, a fiend- 
 Mark's way to steal behind one in the dark— 
 For there was Mark : ' He has wedded her,' he said, 
 Not said, but hiss'd it : then this crown of towers 
 So shook to such a roar of all the sky. 
 That here in utter dark I swooned away. 
 And woke again in utter dark, and cried, 
 ' I will flee hence and give myself to God '— . 
 And thou wert lying in thy new leman's arms." 
 
 Then Tristram, ever dallying with her hand, 
 " May God be with thee, sweet, when old and gray, 
 And past desire !" a saying that anger"d her. 
 " 'May God be with thee, sweet, v,hen thou art old, 
 And sweet no more to me !' I need Him now. 
 For when had Lancelot utter'd ought so gross 
 E'en to the swineherd's malkin in the mast ? 
 The greater man, the greater courtesy. 
 But thou, thro' ever harrying thy wild beasts-. 
 Save that to touch a harp, tilt with a lance 
 Becomes thee well— art grown wild beast thyself. 
 How darest thou, if lover, push me even 
 In fancy from thy side, and set me far 
 In the gray distance, half a life away, 
 Here to be loved no more ? Unsay it, unswear I 
 
 SJ 
 
! 
 
 36 
 
 Flatter me rather, seeing me so weak, 
 
 Broken with Mark and hate and solitude, 
 
 Thy marriage and mine own, that I should suck 
 
 Lies like sweet wines : lie to me ; I beHeve. 
 
 Will ye not lie ? not swear, as there ye kneel, 
 
 And solemnly as when ye sware to him, 
 
 The man of men, our King— JVIy God, the power 
 
 Was once in vows when men believed the King! 
 
 They lied not then, who swore, and thro' their vows 
 
 The King prevailing made his realm :— I say. 
 
 Swear to me thou wilt love me ev'n when old'. 
 
 Gray-haired, and past desire, and in despair."' 
 
 Then Tristram, pacing moodily up and down, 
 
 •' Vows ! did ye keep the vow ye made to Mark 
 
 More than I mine ? Lied, say ye ? Nay, but learnt, 
 
 The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself— 
 
 My knighthood taught me this— ay, being snapt— 
 
 We run more counter to the soul thereof 
 
 Than had we never sv^rorn. I swear no more. 
 
 I swore to the great King, and am forsworn. 
 
 For once ev'n to the height— I honor'd him. 
 
 ' Man, is he man at all.?' methought, when first 
 
 I rode from our rough Lyonesse, and beheld 
 
 That victor of the Pagan throned in hall— 
 
 His hair, a sun that ray'd from off a brow 
 
 Like hillsnow high in heaven, the steel-blue eyes, 
 
 The golden beard that clothed his lips with light-- 
 
 Moreover, that weird legend of his birth. 
 
 With Merlin's mystic babble about his end 
 
 Amazed me ; then, his foot was on a stool 
 
 .-^^.,^,.rf-j,.. 
 
37 
 
 Shaped as a dragon ; he seemed to me no man, ' 
 But Michael trampling Satan ; so I sware, 
 Being amazed ; but this went by— the vows ! 
 O ay— the wholesome madness of an hour— 
 They served their use, their time ; for every knight 
 Believed himself a greater than himself, 
 And every follower eyed him as a God : 
 Till he, being lifted up beyond himself, 
 Did mightier deeds than elsewise he had done. 
 And so the realm was made : but then their vows- 
 First mainly thro' that sallying of our Queen- 
 Began to gall the knighthood, asking whence 
 Had Arthur right to bind them to himself ? 
 Dropt down from heaven? wash'd up from out the 
 deep 
 
 They fail'd to trace him thro' the flesh and blood 
 Of our old Kings ; whence then ? a doubtful lord 
 To bind them by inviolable vows. 
 Which flesh and blood perforce would violate ; 
 For feel this arm of mine— the tide within 
 Red with free chase and heather-scented air, 
 Pulsing full man ; can Arthur make me pure 
 
 As any maiden child ? lock up my tongue 
 From uttering freely what I freely hear ? 
 
 Bind me to one ? The great world laughs at it. 
 
 And worldling of the world am 1, and know 
 
 I'he ptarmigan that whitens ere his hour 
 
 Wooes his own end ; we are not angels here 
 
 Nor shall be : vows— I am woodman of the woods, 
 
 And hear the garnet-headed yaffingale 
 
 ■■■■hEmiim 
 
 mUSm 
 
 iXSSU 
 
 a«r-j-» 
 
 mttHMi^tummLi^^^nm 
 
38 
 
 Mock them : my soul, we love but while we may, 
 And therefore is my love so large for thee, 
 Seeing it is not bounded save by love." 
 
 Here ending, he moved toward her, and she said, 
 " Good : an I turned away my love for thee 
 To some one thrice as courteous as thyself— 
 For courtesy wins woman all as well 
 ,As valour may—but he that closes both 
 Is perfect, he is Lancelot— taller indeed, 
 Rosier, and comelier, thou— but say I loved 
 This knightliest of all knights, and cast thee back 
 Thine own small saw, * We love but while we may/ 
 . Well then, what answer ?" 
 
 * 
 
 He that while she spake, 
 Mindful of what he brought to adorn her with, 
 The jewels, had let one finger lightly touch 
 The warm white apple of her throat, replied, 
 " Press this a little closer, sweet, until— 
 Come, I am hunger'd, and half-anger'd— meat, 
 Wine, wine— and I will love thee to the death^ 
 And out beyond into the dream to come." 
 
 So then, when both were brought to full accord. 
 She rose, and set before him all he will'd ; 
 And after these had comforted the blood 
 With meats and wines, and satiated their hearts— 
 Now talking of their woodland paradise, 
 The deer, the dews, the fern, the founts,' the lawns : 
 Now mocking at the much ungainliness, 
 
id, 
 
 39' 
 
 And craven shifts, and long crane legs of Mark-> 
 Then Tristram laughing caught the harp and sang- 
 
 Ay, ay, O ay— the winds that bent the brier ' 
 A star in heaven, a star within the mere ! 
 Ay, ay, O ay~a star was my desire ; 
 And one was far apart, and one was'near • 
 Ay, ay, O ay—the winds that bow the grass ' 
 And one was water and one star was fire 
 And one will ever shine and one will pasl— 
 Ay, ay, a ay— the winds that move the mere." 
 
 Then in the light s last glimmer Tristram show'd 
 And swung the ruby carcanel. She cried, 
 '' The collar of some order, which our KiiT>- 
 Hath newly founded, all for thee, my soul '^ 
 For thee, to yield thee grace beyond thy peers " 
 
 '' Not so, my Queen," he said, " but the red fruit 
 Grown on a magic oak-tree in mid-heaven 
 And won by Tristram as a tourney-prize 
 And hither brought by Tristram, for his 'last 
 Love-offering and peace-offering unto thee.'* 
 
 He rose, he turn'd, and flinging round her neck. 
 Uaspt It ; but while he bow'd himself to lay 
 Warm kisses in the hollow of her throat, 
 Out of the dark, just as the lips had touched. 
 Behind him rose a shadow and a shriek— 
 " Mark's way,- said Mark, and clove him thro' the 
 brain. 
 
 That night came Arthur home, and while he climb'd, 
 
-i/!^ 
 
 ^fmm 
 
 :su:!X:}d'jt^ \ 7 . }:^:\ ' jrj rsT. 
 
 40 
 
 All in a death-dumb Autumn-dripping gloom, 
 The stairway to the hall, and look'd and saw 
 The great Queen's bower was dark,— about his feet 
 A voice clung sobbing till he question'd it, 
 " What art thou ?" and the voice about his feet 
 Sent up an answer, sobbing, *' I am thy fool, 
 And I shall never make thee smile again." 
 
 " I AM THY FOOL, AND I SHALL NEVER MARE THEE 
 
 SMILE AGAIN.' 
 
 L 
 
 ^ 
 
TV. 
 
/ 
 
 fiiippPiP'fijifv'' I" ' y ' 
 
 '-•'Tnf!"^;*'''V% ' *''*'^ ^'' 
 
 I 
 
 B5IBB 
 
 N O W READY! 
 
 TU.Iti 
 
 
 OF FOREIGN LIIERATI RL. 
 
 Vol. 1. 
 
 DECEMBER. 
 
 No, I, 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 TIIK MAID OF SKET!.— "151ii('ktv«,hr.* MaRMziiio." 
 ECOXdMrr F.\];LArTi:S AXI> LABOK FTOITA?. --- "].on<lon 
 
 ('»iiiirtorlv Hcvif'W." 
 Ml('ni:L\N<;Kl.o and his plan in art. — "Fortnightly 
 
 1-! (' \ ic \v . " 
 1\ Tru; POKrir. CToitrv.)— "^t, l':iiil's Maj^a/ino." 
 lIT'iilf M[1;1:F.H. -"liritish I'liartprly Kovicw." 
 TFFTIT.— 'M'hiun»>ers'« .loiirrtiil." 
 TlIK niAPACTKM (>F THHIST: DOES TT Sl'l'Fl.Y A\ Al^F- 
 
 (,MATE BASIS FoH A HF. I. K J TON '.'-*• <'<>nteiniM.ruiy 
 
 li'oviow." 
 AKMV OIUIANIZATTON.— " Westininstor T?eview." 
 l,OiU» rilKSTFKFrFTJ).— " ("ornliill Mii.iraz'nio.' 
 A IIISTOin OF TIIK rOMMI NF <»F JWKIS. - - "B1fiekwoo(|*» 
 
 Magiizino." 
 SONUS OK THF SIFKHAS.— "Tho AcailoTn.v." 
 A WHFSTLF WTTIf \ I Af^■\ H A. " AH tho Vear Iloiimi." 
 i«F\JAMT\ T)lSi; \l'i,I. TIm! IMitci. 
 l.jrFI{AHV N(Vn('fS. 
 
 Abo contains fan-pa.t,'e STFFL FNfJKAVTNO of 
 
 be:n.ja}^itn r)isr'.AELT. 
 
 ifOf 'Pni; Tanaotan F*"i rnir ghmtld If- in erei->i llh^-nri). on 
 •f.»ri' uii>t», nmi in ihn; fminh <'/ ''•"•// man irho propoff^i to /eirw ^ 
 
 TERMS OF THE "CANADIAN ECLECTIC." 
 
 Single I'lipies, 25 conts ; 'me your, .'f2.;")0 ; two i-opies, <piie year, 
 $4. , OoT tivo copies, ono ycnr, ;j;iO. Agorfts wanted to jr<') up clubs. 
 
 A.(drM« THE CANADIAN NEWS .V I'UBLTSIlINd CO.. 
 
 Pvihlitihors, :^j C;>i"h'.rno Sfroct. ToroTirn. 
 
 i 
 
 A 
 
 ^