Class i I \ L, : ' - CHEIOilGHI' DSPOSIE '« / THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " 'lo thou likewise SHALT BE KiNo' " — Page 290 '3u^w^v\A^^v«nrt^^ ^^-^^^Y*-*^ THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING ADAPTED FROM TENNYSON By INEZ N. iVlcFEE rRBDBBXCK.*A*STOKE6 COMEANY PTJBUSHBRS Copyright, igi2, by Frederick A. Stokes Company All rights reserved September, IQ12 n '4 ci.A3:eo228 INTRODUCTION THE stories sketched herein are for the most part founded on Tennyson's " Idylls of the King." The aim of the writer has been to put the subject matter of the " Idylls " into readable form for young readers, — to lay a foundation, as it were, for Tennyson's tales. They are stories of " noble chivalry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friend- ship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin." Before reading these tales the young reader should know that King Arthur was a good and wise king who ruled over parts of England in the sixth century. In those days England was divided into a number of petty kingdoms, each ruled by its own king, and Arthur was the wisest and best of these rulers. Indeed, so great was he, that he conquered a large number of his neighbor kings, and finally came to be the ruler of all Western, or Celtic England. He was so chivalrous and kind, so wise and just, that people every- where sang his praises. Story after story about him was handed down from one generation to another, until, even before print- ing came into use, writers of many lands took him for the highest type of chivalrous gentleman. He was made to stand for all that was good and pure in life, and his name became a household watch- word. A writer named Mallory gathered the Arthur stories together and had them published in one book. He called his work " Morte d'Arthur." Tennyson got much of the material for his " Idylls " from Mallory, but each author added to the original records to suit his own fancy. Thus, Arthur really reigned in the sixth century, but Mallory put him into a setting of feudal chivalry and knighthood at its highest flower, which was actually reached in the twelfth century. Tennyson went farther and put in conversation and happenings of his own day and age. Therefore, while the V vi INTRODUCTION story of Arthur Is beautiful and Inspiring, It Is not exactly true to his time. But this fact does not In any way affect the Interest of the tale. The traveler over Great Britain finds everywhere mementos of Arthur. From " Arthur's Seat " at Edinburgh to " Arthur's Castle of TIntagll " In Cornwall, his name Is In the air. Win- chester claims to have been the seat of Arthur's royal palace — the city spoken of In the tales as Camelot. Bamborough Castle In Northumberland boasts of having been " Joyous Card," the home of Lancelot, Arthur's best-loved knight; while Guilford In Surrey Is said to have been the home of " the lily maid of Astolat," who died for love of Lancelot. Devonshire Is known as the home of Geraint, one of Arthur's strong knights, and Glastonbury Is the traditional " Island-valley of Avalon " whither Arthur passed at the close of the tales. It was to Glastonbury, we are told, that Joseph of Arlmathea conveyed the Holy Grail after the Saviour's death, and there the Feast of the Pentecost was always faithfully observed by Arthur and his knights. Tennyson uses his *' Idylls " to point a moral. In some respects he makes them a tale of " Paradise Lost." In the beginning, he shows us Arthur's kingdom — a creation bright and fair, perfect In every way. The blight of sin, however, creeps in at last and gradually spreads corruption, until all ends In what seems to be defeat and failure; but through the clouds we can see the sun shin- ing, and we feel that Arthur's life has not been lived In vain. We do not deal with the moral In our rendering of the stories. We give them for their pictures of chivalrous times, for their beauty of thought and action, and for their portrayal of right, truth, and might conquering over wrong. It Is our hope that young readers will profit from acquaintance with the brave, and courteous knights, and the pure, true, beautiful ladies around whom the tales are woven, and be led to realize the truth of the saying: " Do after the good, and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame and renown." CONTENTS THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING PAGE Introduction . v CHAPTER I How Arthur Came to be King i II The Founding of the Round Table . . . io III Arthur's Best Friend 20 IV The Marriage of Arthur 31 V Arthur's Enemies at Court 39 VI Gareth of Orkney ,., . 49 VII The Story of Geraint and Enid . . . . 75 VIII The Lily Maid of Astolat . . . . . .103 IX The Search for the Holy Grail . . ,. . 132 X Guinevere ,..,... 147 XI The Passing of Arthur .... ., ,., . 162 IDYLLS OF THE KING Dedication t.. ,., . 175 The Coming of Arthur „, ,., ,., . 176 The Round Table Gareth AND Lynette . . . .... ,., ,. . 187 The Marriage of Geraint . . . . ,., . .217 Geraint and Enid ,.,,... 235 vii vili CONTENTS PAGE Balin and Balan 256 Merlin and Vivien .269 Lancelot and Elaine . 289 The Holy Grail 3^9 Pelleas and Ettarre 339 The Last Tournament ........ 35 i Guinevere 3^8 The Passing of Arthur 3^2 To the Queen » • 392 ILLUSTRATIONS " ' Thou art not knight but knave ' " Cover '''' " ' Lo, THOU LIKEWISE SHALT BE KING ' " Frontispiece "/ FACING PAGE " For TWO hours more they fought " 26 ^ " The princess drew back blushing " 32 "^ " ' Damsel, let me first see this cloak upon you, that i may THE better observe IT ' " 48 / "And IN THE FLAME WAS BORNE A NAKED BABE " 184 .' "A CITY OF SHADOWY PALACES " ^94 " ' Here by God's rood is the one maid for me ' " 226 i' " And the dead, oared by the dumb, went upward with the flood" 314 ' " ' And down the long beam stole the Holy Grail ' " . . . . 322 «■ " ' I shall never make thee smile again ' " 368 " ' Yea, little maid, for am i not forgiven ? ' " . . . . . . 382 ' IX THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING CHAPTER 1 HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING KING UTHER Pendragon lay dying. He was sore at heart and sadly troubled. His spirit could not bear to leave the earth, for he had no heir to succeed him. Loudly did he mourn, and all his attendants were filled with pity. Merlin, the great wizard, and his master Bleys were sent for, and tried in vain to comfort him. At last the two wise men went out from the King's presence, and paced along the shore beside the sea. They were sad and troubled, for they could think of no way in which their magic might help their beloved King. It was night — a dismal night, " in which the bounds of Heaven and earth seemed lost." Suddenly, from out the blackness, a dragon-winged ship loomed up at sea. Bright and all shining she was, and there were many people on her decks. But only a glimpse the two wise men had ere she passed from sight. Then master and pupil stood silently watching the great waves rise and fall. Wave after wave came in, each mightier than the last, until finally the ninth one, " gathering half the deep and full of voices, slowly rose and plunged roaring, and all the wave was in a flame, and down the wave and in the flame was borne a naked babe, that rode to Merlin's feet." Quickly the old wizard caught up the child. " The King! " he cried. " Here is an heir for Uther ! " As he spoke, the fringe of the great breaker, swooping up the strand, lashed at him and rose all around him in fire, so that he and I 2 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING the child were clothed in flame. Then the fire died down, a peace- ful calm fell, and stars and sky were bright and clear. Straightway Merlin and Bleys hurried to the castle, and great was the rejoicing when the glad tidings were borne throughout the court that an heir had been given to Uther from the deep sea. The old King was glad and happy indeed, and his spirit passed from his body in peace. But he did not die until he had blessed the child and commanded two knights and two ladies to take it, wrapped in cloth-of-gold, and deliver it to a poor man they would find waiting at the outer gates of the castle. The wise old King knew that when he was dead the babe's life would be in danger, and that many of his wicked, unscrupulous nobles would try to take the throne. Now the old man at the gate was Merlin in disguise, but the knights and ladies knew it not. He bore the babe secretly away, and carried him to Sir Anton, an old friend of King Uther's. The good knight had the child christened by a holy priest, naming him Arthur. Then his wife took the babe and nursed him and reared him with her own children. Great was the speculation at court as to where the child had gone, and strife and trouble arose among the more powerful nobles as to who should rule in King Uther's stead. But Merlin charged them, saying: " Have heed what ye do. The child is not dead. God will have His will; in His own good time He will bring forth Uther's heir and crown him King. And Uther's heir shall be greatest of all great kings; all his enemies shall fall before him. And be- fore he dies he shall long have been King of all England, and have under his rule Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, and more king- doms than are now known." The petty kings and nobles marveled at what Merlin said, and though they scoffed at him in secret, they dared not take the throne, for well they knew the wisdom of his prophecies. And for many years there were wrangling and bloodshed in the land. HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 3 Knaves and cutthroats went their way undisturbed, and the country sank into decay. Wild men and people from over the sea plun- dered and laid waste the borderlands, and Terror rode barebacked over the hills and through the dales. At last Merlin went to the Archbishop of Canterbury and told him to make known to all the lords of the realm, and to all the gentlemen of arms, that if they would come to London at Christmas time, a miracle would be shown to them, revealing who was to be their King. Of course all the lords and gentlemen were eager to know who this might be, and long before dawn on Christmas Day the great church in London was packed with hopeful guests, who waited anxiously for the hour of prayer, after which the miracle was to be made known. When all had been permitted to file into the churchyard, there was seen a large, square marble block, having in its midst an anvil all of steel. In the anvil was stuck a beautiful sword, with naked blade. And on the sword were letterings and markings of gold, which, being interpreted, read: *' Whoso piilleth this sword from out this anvil and marble is the true King of all England." The people marveled, for the feat seemed easy; and there was some wrangling among the lords, for each of them wished to be King, as to who should have the first trial to draw out the sword. The question having been settled by the Archbishop after some difficulty, one after another went up and tried to draw the sword from the anvil. But no one could even make it stir. '* It is plain," said the Archbishop, " that the man is not here who can draw the sword. But doubtless God will make him known in good time. Let us issue a proclamation that there will be an- other trial on Twelfth Day. In the meantime, let us provide ten good knights to guard the sword." All was done as the Archbishop said. Then, as the nobles and gentlemen did not care to return to their homes and journey back again, it was arranged to have a great joust, or tournament, on New Year's Day. The Archbishop was glad of this excuse to 4 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING keep the lords and the common people together, for he hoped that during the joust some sign would be given as to who should win the sword. Now It happened that Sir Anton lived on a large estate near London, and he decided to go up to the tournament with his son, Sir Kay, and young Arthur for his companions. When they had ridden a few miles on their journey. Sir Kay discovered that he had forgotten his sword. He was much dismayed, for he meant to take part in the tourneys, and he begged Arthur to ride back for it. This the sweet-tempered lad willingly consented to do, though by so doing he would miss a large part of the tournament. But the trip was a useless one, for when he arrived at the castle, he found that all the servants had set off across the fields for the tournament. There was no one to find the sword for him, and he was forced to turn back empty-handed. " Alas! " said he, " I will not go to my brother without a sword. He shall do his share In the tourney, even though It be late In the day. I will get me down to the churchyard and draw out the sword from the marble." When he had come to the churchyard and made fast his horse to the stile, he went to the tent which had been placed over the marble block, and peeped In. And lo ! the brave and trusted knights who had been left to guard the sword had stolen away to the tourneys ! Seizing the weapon by the handle, Arthur pulled it easily from the marble, mounted his horse, and rode away in search of Sir Kay, to whom he delivered the sword. Sir Kay recognized It at once, and, saying nothing of his In- tentions to Arthur, he spurred his horse to his father's side. Show- ing the sword to Sir Anton, he said, " Lo, Sir, here is the sword that was in the marble In the churchyard, wherefore I must be King of all England." Sir Anton was astonished. But he knew his son. Privately summoning Arthur, he made Sir Kay and the boy go quietly with him to the churchyard. There he examined the marble; then he HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 5 drew them Into the church and sternly bade Sir Kay tell him the truth about the stone. "How is it that you now have the sword in your possession? You could no more draw it on Christmas Day than any other knight! " he demanded. Sir Kay knew his father was not to be deceived, so he answered truly: " My brother Arthur brought it to me." " Zounds! " exclaimed the old knight. " And how came you by it, boy?" Arthur told him. *' Then," said Sir Anton, " I see that you, lad, must be the des- tined King of our land." " I ! " cried Arthur in bewilderment, for he had not understood the true significance of the sword. " Wherefore I ? Are you dreaming, Father? Why should I be King? " " Because God will have it so," answered Sir Anton solemnly, uncovering his head. " Know you not, lad, that it has been or- dained that whosoever pulleth this sword from the marble shall be King? It is a sign from the Great Ruler on high. Now, that there may be no mistake, let us see if you can put the sword back in its place and draw it out again." " Surely, Sir, that is easy ! " answered Arthur, and straightway led the way to the churchyard. Lightly he hurled the gleaming steel into the center of the anvil. Then Sir Anton took hold of the sword and tried to draw it out, but in vain. Sir Kay next tried with all his might to move the sword, but he could not stir it. " Nay," said Sir Anton, " you are not the man. Do you try, Arthur." And Arthur took hold of the sword and drew it forth easily. At this Sir Anton and Sir Kay knelt on the ground before him and bowed low their heads. " Alas," cried Arthur, " wherefore do you kneel to me, mine own dear father and my brother? " 6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " Nay, my lord Arthur," answered good Sir Anton, " call' me father no more. You are not of our kin. None of my blood courses in your veins." Then he told Arthur how he had taken him from Merhn and brought him up as his own son; and how the wizard had said that Arthur was sent from heaven to be King. Arthur was deeply moved, but the thought that he might be the King paled before the loss of his good parents, and he was even more deeply grieved. Seeing this, the old knight said kindly: " Do not take it to heart, my lord Arthur. We will still be your friends, if it please you." " If it please me! " exclaimed Arthur. " What manner of man should I be if it did not please me? It would ill-behoove me to show aught but kindness and love to you and my good mother. Lady Eleanor, who have stood for so many years between me and the world. Nay, Sir Anton, if it should be that I have the good for- tune to be crowned King, ask what you will of me and the favor shall be granted, even unto the half of my kingdom." " Lord Arthur," replied the old knight, bowing low, " your kind- ness and courtesy do credit to the wise teachings of my good lady. I thank you. But I shall ask no more of you than that you make my son, Sir Kay, seneschal of all your lands." " Indeed," answered Arthur, " that will I do willingly. And, by my faith, no man but he shall fill that office while he and I live." Then Sir Anton counseled Arthur and Sir Kay to hold their peace till Twelfth Day, when Arthur might take his turn among all those who came to try for the sword. " For," said he, " no other man can take the sword, let him try as he may. You are the King that God has sent to save the land. It is best that you prove yourself before all the lords and common people." When Twelfth Day came, a great crowd again assembled, and all the mighty and powerful men of the kingdom tried In turn to draw the sword. But none of them could do It. Then Arthur HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 7 •stepped out modestly from the ranks of the gentlemen and drew the sword with ease. At first the people were amazed. Then there was a great shout and a mutter of angry voices. How could all the great and powerful knights submit to be ruled by a mere boy, who had never even been knighted? It was with difficulty that the Archbishop of Canterbury and his assistants finally re- stored order. Then the Archbishop proposed that the question should not be decided till Candlemas, which is the second day of February, and to this all agreed. However, when Candlemas came, Arthur again was the only •one from among the vast throng assembled in the churchyard who could draw the sword. But the people were no better satisfied than before; so they agreed to have another trial on Easter Day. And again it happened that none but Arthur could take the sword. Once more it was agreed that another trial should take place — this time at the Feast of the Pentecost, commonly known as Whit- sunday, seven weeks after Easter. Now so bitter was the feeling against Arthur that Merlin was fearful lest he come to harm, so the wizard prevailed upon the Archbishop to send ten of Uther's best-beloved knights to serve the young King-to-be as a body-guard. They were to attend Arthur at all times, and never to leave him even for a moment, until the great day for the Feast of the Pentecost arrived. The people had now grown reckless over the choice of King, feeling that any full-grown man could rule more wisely than a mere stripling; so all manner of men were allowed to test their strength on the day of Pentecost. But all to no purpose, for none but Arthur could draw the sword. When for the fourth time he pre- vailed over all the knights and strong men of the land, a murmur ran through the crowd. A presentiment seemed to descend upon them. And all the common people fell upon their knees, crying: " Let Arthur be crowned King! We will take no other. He it is whom God has sent. Deny him no longer, lest a great pestilence come upon us. Long live Arthur, the King ! " 8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Many of the knights now began to waver, and several of them came and knelt at Arthur's feet and implored him to forgive them for doubting him. This Arthur did readily, and, taking the sword, knelt and offered it on the altar before the Archbishop. Then he was knighted by the best man there. Arthur was crowned at once, in the presence of all the people, and there he swore to the lords and the common people to be a true king forevermore, and to rule the land with right and justice. On one side of him stood the wizard, Merlin, his beard whitened by the frosts of a hundred winters, and on the other stood the Lady of the Lake, who had appeared as though by magic, clothed in white samite, mystic and wonderful. A mist of incense curled about her, and her face was well-nigh hidden in the gloom. Just as the coronation ceremonies were over, the attention of the people was attracted toward the lake near by. And behold, a most wonderful sword rose above the waters in the center of the lake! "The mystic sword!" cried the Lady of the Lake. "Make haste, my lord Arthur, row out and secure it. Excalibur, mean- ing cut-steel, is his name. Strong and powerful is he. And with him in your hands no enemy can stand before you." " And mind you, O King," said the wizard, " secure you the scabbard, for it is ten times more powerful than the sword. While you have the scabbard upon you, you shall lose no blood, be you ever so sorely wounded." Thus admonished, Arthur lost no time in securing the sword. And a wonderful sword it was, with a blade so bright that men were blinded by it. " All the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, myriads of topaz-lights and jacinth-work of subtlest jewelry." On the hilt was engraved the " Elfin Urim," mysterious Hebrew jewels, having a hidden meanmg. Some say that this symbol consisted of four rows of precious stones on which were inscribed the names of the twelve tribes of Israel; others that it was formed of three stones, one of which indicated in some mysterious way the answer HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 9 " Yes," the second " No," while the third was neutral. On one side of the blade was engraved in Hebrew, " Take me," but on the other side were the words '' Cast me away." When he had read the inscriptions, Arthur was at a loss what to do, and his face grew sad at the thought of throwing away the wonderful sword. But Merlin came to his aid. "Take the sword and strike!" he counseled. "The time to cast away is yet far off." And Arthur obeyed. CHAPTER II THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE ARTHUR had scarcely been king an hour before complaints began to pour In upon him. Lords, knights, and ladles be- sought him to restore lands which had been taken from them, In one way and another, since the death of Uther. The widowed and the fatherless came to him for protection, and prayed him to give them aid In various causes. The King received all who sought him, for he had a kind heart and longed with all his soul to estab- lish order, truth, and justice throughout his realm. But many difficulties plunged him Into a sea of trouble, and he readily saw that he must have a band of faithful helpers. One of the first acts was to make Sir Kay seneschal of England, according to the promise given to Sir Anton. To him was en- trusted, as far as possible, the restoration of all lands to their proper owners. Arthur next remembered some old friends of King Uther's, Sir Baldwin, Sir Ulfius and Sir Brastlas. Sir Baldwin was made Constable of Britain, and Sir Ulfius, Chamberlain; while Sir Brastlas he appointed Warden of the country north of the River Trent. Of course a large part of the land over which these lords were supposed to hold sway was Arthur's realm only In name, as It was ruled by kings who were hostile to him. This land had to be conquered. To conquer it Arthur would need a large army; therefore he conceived the idea of founding an order called The Knights of the Round Table. These knights were to be chosen from the flower of the land. They were to be brave, true, chivalrous, loyal, ever ready to fight for the right and to champion the cause of the weak. A large number presented themselves at Arthur's call, and he took the lO THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE ii hands of each separately in his own, and, in a voice that trembled, bade the knighted make the following vow : " To reverence the King as if he were Their conscience, and their conscience as their King, To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, To spealc no slander, no, nor listen to it To honor his own word as if his God's, To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds. Until they won her." So simple were the words of great authority, so strait were the vows to his majesty, that when the knights rose from kneeling " some were pale as at the passing of a ghost, some flushed, and others dazed, as one who wakes half-blinded at the coming of a light." Then, when he had finished knighting them, the King *' spake, and cheered his Table Round with large, divine, and com- fortable words," beyond the power of pen to tell. As he talked a miracle happened. From eye to eye through all their Order flashed a momentary likeness of the King; and ere it left their faces, through the casement over Arthur came three rays of beautiful light — flame-color, vert (green), and azure, one falling upon each of three fair Queens who stood in silence near his throne." Just who these three Queens were who attended King Arthur we do not know. Some say that they were the Queen Morgan le Fay, Arthur's sister, the Queen of Northgales, and the Queen of the Waste Lands. But others, and by far the greater number, say that they were mystic Queens sent from heaven to watch over the King, and that they were embodiments of the three cardinal virtues, Faith, Hope, and Charity. They always hovered near him; but only rarely were they visible to the eyes of the knights in attendance. 12 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING The royal palace and the court of the Knights of the Round Table were to be established at Camelot. To Merlin was en- trusted the planning of the castle and the grounds, and the result was more than might have been expected even of a mighty wizard. It was indeed a city of enchantment — " a city of shadowy palaces and stately, rich in emblem and the work of ancient kings who did their days in stone." Here and there pinnacles and spires rose toward heaven, and everywhere were beautiful touches from the hand of Merlin the Mage, who knew all arts. A great wall was built all about the castle grounds, and the entrance thereto was not like any other gate under heaven: " For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave, The Lady of the Lake stood : all her dress Wept from her sides as water flowing away; But like the cross her great and goodly arms Stretch'd under all the cornice and upheld : And drops of water fell from either hand ; And down from one a sword was hung, from one A censer, either worn with wind and storm ; And o'er her breast floated the sacred fish; And In the space to left of her, and right, Were Arthur's wars In weird devices done. New things and old co-twIsted, as If Time Were nothing, so Inveterately, that men Were giddy gazing there: and over all High on the top were those three Queens, the friends Of Arthur, who should help him at his need." Both the castle and wall, however, were many years In the building, and during all this time Arthur and his knights were waging the battle of truth and justice. " And now the Barons and little kings prevailed, and now the King, as here and there the war went swaying." But no enemy of Arthur could long hold out against Excalibur, which was so bright in his eyes that it gave the light of thirty torches; and Arthur's domain widened and THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 13 lengthened daily, while the pure and noble deeds of the King and his knights uplifted and bettered all with whom they came in contact. Arthur and the noble knights of the Round Table were known far and wide, and everywhere they were both loved and feared. Perhaps the hardest struggle of all, was that with the Welsh kings and barons. They were most stubborn in their resistance against King Arthur. So, after he had conquered all England and won to himself many true and valiant knights, he went down into Wales and caused a great Feast of the Pentecost to be held in the city of Caerleon, hoping thus to please the people. To this feast came many great kings with large hosts of powerful knights. And Arthur rejoiced, for he thought they had come to do honor to him; and he sent messengers to them with rich presents. But the kings refused even to look at these, and repulsed the bearers with bitter scorn, saying that they would receive no gifts from a beardless boy of questionable blood. And they sent word to Arthur that they had come to bring him gifts, which they would deliver with sharp swords, betwixt the neck and shoulders. They charged the messengers to say plainly to Arthur that they had come to slay him, for they would never submit to the rule of a mere boy. Arthur and his lords took counsel together, and decided to en- trench themselves In a strong tower which was near at hand. Accordingly, five hundred picked knights were chosen, food was hastily gathered In, and the army fortified behind strong walls. Hardly were they safely settled, when the mighty Army of the Kings besieged them, but all to no purpose, for the strong walls of the tower sheltered them well. For fifteen days the siege lasted; then Merlin came Into the city. The kings welcomed him gladly, for the old wizard had many times worked powerful charms for them. " But," they demanded, " why Is this boy — this slender strip- 14 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING ling, Arthur, a mere nobody, the chosen King of all your noble people? " " Because," answered Merlin sternly, " he is the Heaven-sent son of King Uther Pendragon. And it is not meet that ye fight against him, besides it will profit ye naught. Powerful is he and brave, endowed with God-given strength. All his enemies shall fall before him, and he shall be ruler over land and sea. Greater than all great kings shall he be, and all the people will bow before him and cry, ' All hail, the good King Arthur ! ' " There were some among the kings who heeded Merlin's words; but others, and those the more powerful, laughed scornfully, and muttered under their breath things not exactly complimentary to the old wizard. However, he gained from them a promise to listen to Arthur if he cared to come out and speak with them, and they assured him that Arthur would be allowed to come and go in peace. Then Merlin went to King Arthur. " Go out and speak boldly to them as their King and Chieftain," he advised. " And spare them not; neither be thou afraid, for thou shalt overcome them in spite of all," So Arthur hastily donned robes of peace over his heavy armor and went out to meet them. With him went Sir Kay, Sir Brastias, Sir Baldwin, and the Great Archbishop of Canterbury. Wisely and well did Arthur speak to the hostile kings, and never once did he fail to reply readily to the many questions which they asked. But his wisdom and gentle kindness did not impress them. They defied him, and Arthur told them sadly, but with spirit, that he would yet make them bow their heads in submission. Then the kings turned away in great wrath. After Arthur had gone back to the tower, Merlin turned to the kings, saying: " What will ye do? Ye had better disband quietly, for I say unto you that truly ye will never prevail. No, not were your number doubled unto ten times ten, for God is with Arthur and his knights." THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 15 But the kings were angry and sore of spirit, and they said to him scornfully: " Since when have we taken advice from dream- ers?" Then Merlin faded swiftly from their sight, vanishing by magic, and the kings were troubled. They had no wish to anger the old wizard, lest he work some charm upon them. At once Merlin appeared before Arthur, counseling him fiercely: " Set upon yonder rebellious rascals this hour, and smite them. Go against them with weapons like their own; then, if the battle waxes against you, draw Excalibur and he shall win the victory." And it came to pass as Merlin had foretold. Within the hour Arthur and his knights fell upon the vast Army of the Kings, and for a time the battle waxed hot and fierce. Everywhere Arthur appeared in the thickest of the fight, until finally his horse was slain under him, and several of the rebel knights sprang upon him. Quickly he unsheathed Excalibur and waved him aloft. There was a light like that of thirty torches, low thunders rumbled, and lightnings played around, and the re- bellious kings and barons shrank together, afraid. Then Arthur and his knights pressed them close. Slowly they retreated; the citizens of Caerleon joined Arthur and fell upon them with clubs and stones, slaying many knights; and finally the remnant of the noble Army of the Kings broke and fled. And Merlin came to King Arthur and counseled him not to follow them. So Arthur and his knights returned to Camelot and held council as to what were best to be done. For Merlin had told them that the kings though defeated were not humbled, and would follow him into his own country to wreak vengeance upon him. At the council it was decided to send for Merlin and abide by his advice, and he came, saying: " I warn ye that your enemies are exceeding strong. They are as good men-at-arms as any in all the land. Since ye fought with them they have added four Scot- i6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING tish kings and a powerful duke, with their large companies of knights, to their number. If our King goeth out to meet them, even with all the able knights he can gather together in his realm, he will be out-numbered, overcome, and slain. " Now, if ye will, harken to my advice: Across the seas there live two strong and powerful brothers; kings they are. One is King Ban of Benwick, and the other King Bors of France. They have a very rich and powerful enemy, King Claudas, who worries them continually and against whom they cannot prevail. Now, let my lord King Arthur send two trusty messengers unto these kings and entreat them to come to our aid, promising in return to help deliver them from King Claudas." And the King and all his knights approved; so Ulfius and Bras- tias were chosen as messengers to the brothers. They started in great haste for the city of Benwick. In a narrow pass among the mountains they were set upon by eight knights from the court of King Claudas, but God was with them and they overcame, and left their enemies lying sorely wounded upon the field. At Benwick, very fortunately, they found both King Ban and King Bors, enjoying life in peace; for their enemy King Claudas and most of his knights had gone away over the borders for a big hunt. As soon as the kings learned that the messengers came from the court of Arthur and were of the Round Table, they wel- comed them most heartily, and summoned attendants to give them food and bind the wounds they had received upon their journey. Until morning the good knights tarried, and then set out upon the homeward journey with joyful hearts. Not only did they have \ about their persons as many rich gifts for King Arthur as they I could well carry, but they had something that was of far greater value — a promise from King Ban and King Bors to come to Camelot as soon as they could make ready, and help Arthur in his struggle with the rebellious Welsh and Scots. Great was the joy among the knights of the Round Table, when the good news was heard. Preparations were at once begun THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 17 for a grand feast and tournament when the kings and their follow- ers should arrive. Arthur and a band of his most noble knights went twenty miles along the way to meet the expected guests, and most heartily did they greet them. The next day almost one thousand knights took part in the tourneys and enjoyed the bounti- ful feasts. King Arthur, King Ban, and King Bors, the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, old Sir Anton, and the ladies of Arthur's court sat on a platform covered with cloth-of-gold, and acted as judges of the contests. And a merry time every one had. It was the largest joust yet held in England. When the eleven rebellious kings marched up against Arthur, he and his allies were not only ready but waiting for them, and a battle was fought on the plains below Camelot. The great Army of the Kings was utterly routed, and Arthur acknowledged as King of Great Britain. His allies, the kings Ban and Bors, laden with rich presents, returned to their own countries, happy in the assur- ance that if their enemy, Claudas, ever again molested them, they had only to send to the court of Arthur to obtain the means neces- sary to quiet him forever. Scarcely had the foreign kings gone and Arthur and his noble knights settled down for a time of peaceful quiet, when guests arrived at Court. They were Bellicent, wife of King Lot of Orkney, with her sons, and a host of servants. Now Lot was one of the kings who had recently been engaged in the war against Arthur. But Queen Bellicent represented that she came in friend- ship, and told Arthur she had just discovered that she was his half-sister, being the daughter of Igraine, wife of Uther, by a former marriage. She was a very beautiful woman, and Arthur's heart went out to her. Pure and truthful himself, he was the last man in the world to detect falsehood, deceit, and cunning in an- other, so he made her most welcome. And not until her departure, a month later, did he learn that she had really come to him as a spy. All was revealed to him in a marvelous dream, which filled him i8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING with dread. It seemed as though there came into his land a large number of griffins and serpents which burnt and slew the people throughout the land. And Arthur thought that he went to battle with them and that, although they wounded him sorely, he finally succeeded in slaying them. "What does it mean?" he inquired of Merlin. " Ah, my Lord Arthur," answered the old man solemnly, " it was a gruesome dream, and it meant Treason. You have indeed entertained serpents in your court unawares for the past thirty days. They shall bite and sting like adders ! Queen Bellicent's son shall break up your noble order of the Knights of the Round Table, lay in waste the glories of Camelot, and slay you in battle." And Arthur was disheartened at the words, and drooped in ex- ceeding bitterness of spirit. But Merlin counseled him wisely: "Rebel not. It is God's will, and He doth all things well. Forget it ! I should not have told you, for it profits no man to know the Future ! Pray regard it as though you knew it not, my Lord Arthur. Live ever as the pure, blameless King, and when years hence, for it will be years hence, the end comes, you will receive your reward. Sorrow not, my lord, for you shall die an honorable death, but I — I shall die shamefully. I shall be buried alive ! " Arthur marveled much over the words of the wizard, and, later • he saw how faithfully this prophecy of doom was fulfilled, par- ticularly that about the magician's own sad ending. It seems that Merlin, old as he was, fell in love with Vivien, a beautiful but wicked maiden of Arthur's court. She enticed from the old man a great number of his magic secrets, and used them to further her own interests. At last Merlin became so deeply in love with Vivien that he could scarcely bear to have the maiden out of his sight, and she grew very weary of him. Moreover, she was afraid of him because he was a wizard. She feared that in one of his jealous frenzies he would work some charm upon her. Now, there was one charm the secret of which Merlin would THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 19 never tell Vivien, though he frequently hinted of its great power. Of course, when she found he would not tell the secret, she was most anxious to know It, so she tried in every way to learn it. But Merlin was wise: he was aware of Vivien's feeling for him, and he knew that if she discovered the secret his life would be in dan- ger; for one who knew it could work a spell upon another that would put that other into a deep sleep; then the possessor of the charm could cause the ground, or a tree, to open, allowing him to roll the victim in and seal him up. But alas for Merlin ! He thought so much about the secret that daily it became harder for him to keep it. He had a presentiment that some day, In an unguarded moment, he would tell the charm. And sure enough he did! He and Vivien were sitting under a large oak tree In the Breton forest of Borceliande. A great weariness was upon Merlin, for he was very old, having lived three times the number of years usually allotted to man. He had not the strength to withstand Vivien's coaxing to tell him the secret and he yielded. Hardly had he told it to her when he felt a great drowsiness stealing over him. In a moment, he lay In a deep sleep, and Vivien stood over him, clapping her hands and laughing in wild glee. Then, with a few mysterious moves and passes, she caused the great tree to open, and roughly tumbled Merlin in. No sooner was he safely inside than the tree closed up again, — " And in the hollow oak he lay as dead, And lost to life and use and name and fame." And Vivien laughed and shrieked wildly, " I have made his glory mine. Fool ! O fool ! " she cried. Then she turned and sprang away through the forest, and the thicket closed behind her as the deep woods echoed " fool! " CHAPTER III Arthur's best friend AMONG King Arthur's knights was one, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, whom he loved with a love passing that of women. Sir Lancelot was one of the first to respond to Arthur's call, and he willingly left his beautiful castle " Joyous Gard " in Northumberland, to do the will of his " blameless, white king." Chief was Lancelot among all the brave and noble knights of the Round Table; in tournaments and jousts and deeds of arms he surpassed all others, and never was he overcome except by treason or enchantment. All over the land, next to good King Arthur, Sir Lancelot was loved and honored by high and low. Always he fought next to his king in battle, and well did his strong arm serve his master. Sir Lancelot loved excitement and the joy of the fray. He was never content to lounge at home, among the splendors of the court at Camelot. If adventure were not at hand, he went out in search of it, and many are the thrilling stories told of him. It is said that once, at a great tourney, he overthrew twenty-eight knights in quick succession, among them being the great and mighty King of North Wales. Legend has it that once, when affairs at the court were dull. Sir Lancelot, according to his custom, determined to go in quest of adventures. He set out with only one companion, his nephew. Sir Lionel, saying that he would not return until time for the great Feast of the Pentecost, which was always observed at Camelot, with great tourneys and much rejoicing. Days passed and noth- ing was heard from the adventurers, and finally time drew very 20 ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 21 near to the Pentecost. Then Lancelot's brother, Sir Ector, grew anxious, and set out in search of the two men. Though not so strong as his brother Lancelot, Sir Ector was a brave and noble knight. So he rode boldly into the heavy forest for many miles in the direction in which his brother and his nephew had started. Finally he met a sturdy forester and inquired of him if there were any adventures to be found thereabout. " Yea," said the forester. " If you be a brave man, you can find all that you seek about a mile farther on, in the depth of the forest. There is a strong manor with a deep moat around it, and a ford where your horse may drink. Hard by is a beautiful tree all hung with many fair shields that once belonged to bold, true knights. In the midst of these hangs a brass and copper basin. If you smite angrily upon it three times with the butt of your spear, that which you seek will appear." Sir Ector rode forward at once. He knew well that if Sir Lancelot had passed that way, he had sought at once the adven- ture of which the forester told. As he came up to the tree and eagerly scanned the many shields, he recognized the shield of his nephew. Sir Lionel, and also those of several knights of the Round Table who had mysteriously disappeared. But of Sir Lancelot's shield there was no sign. Though he thanked Heaven for this, Sir Ector was both dismayed and disheartened, and very angry withal at the sight of these silent proofs of treachery done to his friends. So he smote angrily upon the basin three times, and rode his horse into the stream, to give him a drink. Scarcely had the animal satisfied himself, when a knight rode up behind Sir Ector and demanded that he come out of the water and pre- pare to defend himself. With a shout Sir Ector wheeled sharply, and smote the strange knight such a heavy blow that he fairly made his horse reel. " Ha ! " cried the knight. " That was well done, and more than knight has done to me these twelve years past, but, my friend, such as you can be no match for Turquine ! " 22 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING As the strange knight spoke his name, Sir Ector fell a-trembling, for there was scarcely a knight in all the Order of the Round Table who did not fear the great and mighty bandit, Sir Tur- quine. The powerful knight marked the effect of his words, and chuckled to himself as he reached out one mighty arm and plucked the fear-weakened Sir Ector from the saddle. Swiftly he bore him away to his own home, where he stripped him of his armor, beat him with cruel thorns, and threw him into a deep dungeon, where he found many men whom he knew, among them the lost Sir Lionel. "Alas, my nephew!" cried Sir Ector, "that we should meet in this foul place ! But tell me, know you aught of my brother, Lancelot?" " No," answered Lionel. " I left him asleep in the shade of an oak tree, but whether he now lives I know not. One thing is sure: unless he does, and comes to our rescue, we shall rot in prison. For there is no man on earth but Lancelot who can over- throw our jailer." While the knights mourned and sympathized with each other, Lancelot also drooped and languished in a distant prison cell. As he had lain in peaceful slumber under the oak tree, four Queen- witches had come by and cast a spell over him. They had borne him off to their castle and had sought by every means in their power to make him renounce the Round Table and his allegiance to King Arthur, and serve in their castle guard instead. This Sir Lancelot would not do, and the Queens declared he should die in prison if his will could not be broken. Now it chanced that the damsel who was commanded to wait upon Sir Lancelot, and carry him his meals, was the daughter of Bagdemagus, a king whose head had been bowed low in the dust by the King of North Wales. Once in a tournament Lancelot had overthrown this great king, and the daughter of Bagdemagus, knowing this, was very kind to Lancelot. She offered to help him escape, if he would deliver her father from the tyranny of the ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 23 Welsh king. Lancelot was more than glad to consent, and at the appointed time the maiden led him safely away and hid him in her father's house. Then King Bagdemagus assembled all his brave and trusty knights and gave them into Sir Lancelot's com- mand, and great was the victory which they won over the King of Wales and his followers. As soon as Lancelot saw his faithful friend, the Princess Bagde- magus and her father, the King, safely settled in their own bor- ders, he bade them a kind farewell and set forth alone to seek for Sir Lionel, marveling much as to the young man's disappear- ance while he himself had been sleeping beneath the oak. He made his way back to the tree, and scarcely had he ridden ten rods from it when he met a maiden riding a white mule. " Sweet lady," said he, bowing low before her, " canst thou tell me if any adventures are to be found in this forest? " " Yea, my lord knight," answered the maiden, smiling brightly at the handsome Lancelot, who had a manner that was pleasing to all women, " there are many adventures hereabouts, if it so happens that thou hast strength to prove them." " And why should I not prove myself, fair maiden? " asked Sir Lancelot quickly. " It is for further trials of my strength that I have come into this strange country." " Aye, and thou hast spoken like a true knight! " exclaimed the girl admiringly. " I doubt not that thou art powerful and brave. I will bring thee to the greatest and mightiest knight that ere was found, if thou wilt tell me thy name and serve for me a quest, if first thou art lucky enough to overthrow the great man." " Surely," responded Sir Lancelot, with his usual gallantry. " 'Twould be a pleasure to serve so fair a lady on any quest, however difficult. As to my name, I am called Sir Lancelot of the Lake, and belong to the Order of the Round Table. It may so chance that you have heard of my master, the noble King Arthur?" '* Yes, indeed," answered the maiden eagerly. " Not only of 24 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Arthur, but of his brave friend and most trusted knight, Lancelot. Now do I know that this powerful knight be delivered into your hands. He is the great and wicked bandit. Sir Turquine. And I am told that in his dungeons are three score and four good knights of King Arthur's court. He hath taken every one that came within his reach." " Praise the kind Providence that led me hither, fair maiden! " cried Sir Lancelot. " I will avenge my friends of the Table Round and slay the villain, or forever give up my place at Arthur's right hand ! Lead on ! I am anxious to meet the bold Turquine, and God will strengthen my spear." So the damsel made haste to lead Sir Lancelot to the tree by the ford, and she showed him the mystery of the basin. He recog- nized at once a large number of the shields hanging upon the tree, and he was so angry that he smote the basin fiercely until the bot- tom fell out. But no one came. Then Sir Lancelot rode up to the gates of Sir Turquine's manor and pounded for admission, and still no one answered. So he rode up and down before the gates like a sentinel, determined not to go away until he had obtained satisfaction. At last horses' hoofs were heard in the distance, and presently there appeared at a bend in the road a great knight, who drove before his own horse another on which lay another knight who was wounded. There was something about the wounded man which seemed strangely familiar, and as he came nearer, Lance- lot saw that it was Sir Gaheris, one of the Order of the Round Table who had but lately been knighted. Sir Lancelot grasped his spear and firmly rode forward at a gallop, "Prepare to defend thyself!" he shouted sternly, "I charge thee in the name of King Arthur and the noble Order of the Round Table!" " If thou comest under the name of that villainous band, thou art truly welcome ! " answered the knight boldly, " I defy thee and all thy noble brotherhood ! " ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 25 " Thou hast too much assurance, friend," returned Sir Lance- lot, calmly. " But I pray thee, before we test our strength, let us lay my wounded brother upon the ground and make him more comfortable." The knight consented. And then began such a fight as had never been seen or heard of before in all England. Now one knight prevailed and now the other, and for full two hours they fought without either one gaining the mastery. Both were cov- ered with wounds and their breath came in gasping sobs; yet neither would cry for quarter. At last Sir Turquine paused. " Hold thy hand, good knight," he cried, *' and let us reason together. Thou art the best knight that hath ever crossed blades with me, and more like one other that I have never seen than any one whom I could imagine. If thou art not he, for I hate him bitterly, I will agree to set free all my prisoners and let them return to Arthur's court, providing thou wilt promise to be my friend." "And who is it thou so hatest. Sir Turquine?" inquired Sir Lancelot. " It is meet that I should know his name ere I prom- ise, for thou art surely a brave knight, and who knows that thou mightst not be true and loyal didst thou so mind? " " Know then," answered Sir Turquine grimly, " it is Sir Lance- lot of the Lake. He slew my beloved brother at the battle of the Towers, and to avenge him I have killed a hundred good knights and crippled many more, and there are four score and ten shut up in my dungeons. Never will I cease to slay the knights of the Round Table that come into my borders while Lancelot lives. Knowest thou him? Is he friend of thine? Tell me true." "Aye!" answered Lancelot bravely. "Never yet have I spoken aught but truth to man. Behold ! Thy hated enemy stands before thee. I am Lancelot of the Lake, son of King Ban of Benwick. And we must fight unto the death ; for as thou must 26 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING avenge thy brother, so must I hkewise avenge my friends and kinsmen of the Round Table. I defy thee! " Sir Turquine's wrath now waxed high. He fought with might and main, and Sir Lancelot had all he could do to defend himself. For two hours more they fought without rest, and both were faint and sick from the pain of their wounds and the loss of blood. Both were smeared and bespattered, and the grass all about them was trodden and stained like a slaughter pen. At last Sir Tur- quine's splendid strength gave way, and he bore his shield low for very weariness. Then came Sir Lancelot's chance, and he seized it. Quickly he grasped his foe by the helmet and bore him to his knees, plucking off his helm as he did so, and severing his neck with one blow. Then he fell fainting by the side of the dead knight. Now the maiden who had brought Lancelot to the ford had re- mained hidden in a nearby ravine to watch the duel, and as soon as she saw that Lancelot had fallen beside the slain Turquine, she rushed to his side. And it was well that she did so, for he would have died of his wounds without her ministrations. Seizing Sir Turquine's helmet she bounded to the ford and quickly returned with cool spring water and soothing herbs. Tearing her hand- kerchief, sash and scarf into bandages, she soon had her patient's wounds dressed as skilfully as a physician could have bound them, and set about restoring him to consciousness. It was not long until Sir Lancelot was up and eager to set about his business. Almost immediately he inquired of the maiden as to the nature of the quest which she had wished him to under- take. " Nay, Sir Knight," she cried pleadingly, " pray think not of it now. Stay thy hand, I beseech thee, until thou art rested and whole again." But Sir Lancelot only laughed. " What are a few wounds, fair maiden?" he exclaimed. "Pray tell me thy wish, that I may FOR TWO HOURS MORE THEY FOUGHT" Page 26 ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 27 keep my promise. I must be In Camelot for the Pentecost, and the time draws very near." " Well, If thou must, Sir Knight," answered the maiden reluc- tantly. " I dislike to ask thee to duel more to-day; yet there Is a wicked knight hereabouts who robs and distresses ladles and gen- tlewomen. It would be a noble act If thou couldst stay his hand, and thou wouldst have the thanks of all the ladles and damsels." *' Lead on," replied Sir Lancelot. " It is a good quest. But first let us set my wounded brother upon his feet." So they loosed the thongs that bound the hands and feet of Sir Gaherls and removed the gag from his mouth, so that he was free to sit up and express his thanks to Lancelot and his admiration for the way Sir Lancelot had held his own In the duel with Sir Tur- qulne. But Lancelot cut him short. " Stay thy praise. Sir Gaherls! " said he. " I did but my duty. It was meet that I should do all I could for the Round Table and our blameless, white king. Get thee hence and finish this task for me, while I go with this maiden to redeem my promise. She hath sore need of a strong arm. I am told that at Turqulne's manor hard by, there are shut up In the dungeon a large number of men from the Round Table. Their shields hang in a tree by the ford. Among them have I recognized those of my kinsmen, Sir Ector and Sir Lionel. Go then to the castle, I pray thee, and release the prisoners. Tell them to be of good cheer, and to hasten to Camelot for the great Feast of the Pentecost, when I shall be with them." So Sir Lancelot and the maiden rode away, and as they drew near the bridge where the wicked knight usually lay In covert, Sir Lancelot bade the maiden ride on In advance. Scarcely had she gone a dozen rods, when the bandit sprang out from the thicket and dragged her from her horse. In an instant Sir Lancelot was upon him, and with one blow severed his head from his body. " Zounds! What a dog! " he cried in disgust, as he helped the 28 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING weeping maiden to her feet. " 'Tis a disgrace on knighthood that such as he lives ! Hast thou aught more that I can do for thee, fair maiden? If so, thou hast but to speak, for thou hast twice saved my Hfe, and 'tis a pleasure to serve thee." " Nay, brave knight," answered the maiden, smiling, " thou art very kind, and better and gentler than any knight I have yet seen, but I can ask no more of thee. Go thy way, and may the good Father of all guide and preserve thee wheresoever thou goest." They parted, and Lancelot rode forward into the forest in the direction of Camelot. That night he lodged at the hut of a poor forester. Next morning's sun found him again upon the way. Suddenly, as he rode quietly along, he beheld a knight racing toward him, pursued by two others. He reined in his horse and waited for them to come up; and he saw that the knight in distress was no other than Sir Kay, Arthur's seneschal and foster-brother. Sir Lancelot went to his aid, and in a furious fight the two robber- knights were killed. But in the fray Sir Lancelot's horse was slain. " Ah, Sir Lancelot! " cried Sir Kay, as soon as he could speak, " 'Tis a lucky thing for me that you happened to be riding this way ! They would have had me in another minute ! Did you find the adventures that you sought? Surely you must, for this is a land of cutthroats and robbers ! Woe is me ! I am sent upon a quest for my lord Arthur, and well do I know that I shall never re- turn alive ! " "Tut, Sir Kay!" chided Lancelot, "where is your courage?" But in his heart he pitied the seneschal and felt that what he dreaded would likely come to pass. So he said: " Come, I will tell you what to do. Let us make a trade. I will exchange my armor for your horse and armor. With my shield and armor on, you are safe, for most people where you are going would not venture to try at arms with me, and you can buy a horse at the nearest manor. As for me, I shall be safe enough, for I can de- fend myself." ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 29 And so it came about that Lancelot and the seneschal exchanged arms, and made many hearts sorry thereby. For Sir Kay passed in peace many robbers and highwaymen who did not dare molest him thinking him Sir Lancelot, whose power as a swordsman was well known in that vicinity. Had they guessed the cowardly heart that beat under Sir Lancelot's armor and seen how the arm trembled that bore Sir Lancelot's shield, Sir Kay would surely have been slain! As Sir Lancelot rode on toward Camelot, four of Arthur's knights espied him, and they nudged each other, saying: " Behold the sensechal, how proudly he bears himself! Verily, the honor of his position goes to his head like new wine ! He rides like the great Chief of Knights, Sir Lancelot himself. Let us break his pride 1 " And they laid their heads together and planned to frighten him by disguising themselves and asking him to cross swords with one of their number. Now Lancelot knew the four at once and divined their plan, but he gave no sign. Laughing in his sleeve, he assumed the voice of Sir Kay, and challenged the party either singly or in a body. The knights were astounded, for they had expected Sir Kay to take flight Instantly, and they murmured among themselves, but mirthfully accepted the challenge. Their mirth was changed to humiliation when the supposed seneschal not only defeated each in turn but all in a body! And they drew away with hanging heads, and would not even accompany this changed Sir Kay to court, as he Invited them to do. Bitter as gall was the thought that they, who considered themselves among the flower of Arthur's knights, had been defeated by the seneschal, a mere farmer and keeper of grain-bins, who scarce knew one shield from another! Great was the rejoicing when Sir Lancelot, after some further adventures, finally reached Camelot. The knights released from Turqulne's dungeon and Sir Kay had all arrived before him, and loudly had they praised him. King Arthur felt that his beloved knight had Indeed done him great service, and was prepared to 30 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING show Lancelot all honor. A great feast was made ready which almost rivaled that of the Pentecost, to be held on the morrow. Praises, jests, and merriment ran high, but probably the happiest souls in all that vast throng were the four knights who learned that they had tested swords with the champion himself instead of the King's steward. And in all the land of England there was not at this time any man, excepting the King himself, who was so loved, so honored and so worthy of all reverence as Sir Lancelot of the Lake, son of King Ban of Benwick. CHAPTER IV THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR YOU will remember that when Arthur was crowned, many- kings ruled in the isle of Britain. Ever they waged war with one another, laying in waste a great part of the land, and from time to time the heathen hosts swarmed from over the sea and harried what was left. So there came to be many great tracts of wilderness where man was never seen and where wild beasts roamed at will. In parts of the wilderness there dwelt a fearful animal known as the loup-garou, or man-wolf, a creature, half-man and half-wolf, that devoured men, women and children. The land of Cameliard, where Leodogran was king, suffered most from the wild beasts and heathen that overran its borders. Much of the country was covered by thick, wet woods, and by day as well as by night, the wild dog, the wolf, the bear, and the boar came to root In the fields and gardens of the King, and ever and anon they would steal a child and drag him away to their foul dens. Leodogran was greatly troubled and knew not where to turn for aid, his castle guard having been wasted by heathen hordes and recent fighting with his neighbor. King Urion. At last he heard of the crowning of Arthur, and of how the new king tried faith- fully to measure justice to all. So he sent word to him, saying: " Arise, and help us ! For here between man and beast we die." Arthur's tender heart was filled with compassion, and he sum- moned his knights around him and bade them prepare for the journey. Not once did he pause to think that he was yet but little used to battle (for this was In the early days of his reign), or of how much his own affairs needed looking after, for there was yet much bitter, smoldering revolt against him in his kingdom. Now It chanced that as Arthur and his noble knights filed into 31 32 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING the gateway at Cameliard, Leodogran's daughter, the beautiful Guinevere, " fairest of all flesh on earth," was waiting by the castle wall to see them pass. She glanced up, and the King, looking deep into her eyes, felt that her lovely image was engraved upon his heart forever. The princess drew back, blushing. But as Arthur wore no symbol of his kinghood, and rode as a simple knight among his followers, many of whom were in richer arms than he, she knew him not. The King paused not to reveal himself, but his pulses throbbed and he determined to fight a good battle for King Leodogran and ask him for his beautiful daughter's hand as a re- ward. So Arthur pitched his tent beside the forest and drove out the heathen. Then he slew the wild beasts and felled the forest, let- ting in the sun, and making broad pathways for the hunter and the knight. As he was about to go to King Leodogran, a mes- senger from his own land came hurrying, bidding him to make haste if he would save his throne, for the rebel kings who questioned his right to reign were gathering their forces once more. And Arthur was obliged to put back the love that was stirring in his heart and hurry to the call of his country. But as he went he mused and pondered about Guinevere and his own lonely state as king without a bride, and he pondered in these words: " What happiness to reign a lonely king, Vext — O ye stars that shudder over me, earth that soundest hollow under me, Vext with waste dreams? for saving I be join'd To her that is the fairest under heaven, 1 seem as nothing in the mighty world, And cannot will my will, nor work my work Wholly, nor make myself in mine own realm Victor and lord. But were I join'd with her, Then might we live together as one life, And reigning with one will in everything, Have power on this dark land to lighten it, And power on this dead world to make it live." '/A'^mMmmmr- 'the princess drew back, blushing" — /'age J J THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR 33 When Arthur and his knights came to the field where the rebel kings were drawn up in battle ranks, the day became suddenly so bright and clear that " the smallest rock far on the faintest hill " cowld be plainly seen, and, though it was high day, the morning star shone brightly. As the King unfurled his banners, from both sides rose loud shouts and trumpet blasts and clarion calls that thrilled the blood. Then with drawn lances the thousand rebel hosts came thundering to meet Arthur's army. And nobly did the knights withstand the shock! There ensued a great crash and clattering of steel, and now the barons and kings prevailed and now Arthur and his knights. But at last God showed His hand on Arthur's side; for all at once " the Powers who walk the world " made lightnings and great thunders over the King, and dazed all eyes, and Arthur's hands seemed to grow mightier with every blow. Then came a deep, wonderful voice from the four winds, shouting, and the rebel hosts huddled together sore afraid, and, when the voice ceased, they broke in wild flight. But when Arthur's knights would have pursued them, dealing death on every hand, their peace- loving King cried: " Ho! they yield! " " So like a painted battle the war stood Silenced, the living quiet as the dead, And in the heart of Arthur joy was lord." And he turned laughingly to Lancelot, his beloved guard, who had kept faithfully at his side throughout the battle, exclaiming: " Thou dost not doubt me King, so well thine arm hath wrought for me to-day." " Sire and my Liege," cried Lancelot admiringly, " the fire of God descends upon thee in the battle-field; I knozv thee for my King!" And the two swore there on the field of death a deathless love. And Arthur clasped the knight's hands in his own as he said solemnly: " Man's word is God in man. Let chance what will, I trust thee to the death." 34 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING As soon as he had returned to Camelot, Arthur's heart and mind again turned to the beautiful Guinevere, and he, therefore, sent three of his trusted knights, Ulfius, Brastias, and Bedivere, with a message to King Leodogran, saying: " If I in aught have served thee well, give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife." King Leodogran was greatly troubled. He admired Arthur and was deeply grateful to him for ridding Cameliard of its enemies; also he saw that it would be of immense advantage to himself to be related to so powerful a king; but he did not feel like giving Arthur his greatest treasure, which was his only daughter. He had heard some of the murmurings of the rebel kings and feared lest Arthur as they said of him, were not of royal blood. So he pondered in his heart, being resolved never to give his daughter to any except a true king and the son of a king at that. He summoned his old, gray-haired chamberlain, and inquired of him : " Know you aught of Arthur's birth ? " But the chamberlain, whom he trusted above all men, could give him no satisfaction, and the King rebuked him half-angrily, saying: " O friend, had I been holpen half as well by this King Arthur as by thee to-day, then beast and men had had their share of me." Then Ulfius, Brastias, and Bedivere were summoned, and Sir Bedivere took it upon himself to satisfy the King; but Leodogran doubted still. Now, either by chance or design, for she was wondrous wise, Queen Bellicent, wife of Lot of Orkney, and her two sons came knocking at the castle door for admittance, and Leodogran was forced to make a feast and entertain her. As they sat at meat, he remembered that she was a kinswoman of King Arthur, and so determined to question her, beginning in this wise: "A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas. You come from Arthur's court. Victor his men report him. Yea, but do you think this king — so many there are that hate him, and his knights so few, how- THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR 35 ever brave they be — hath body enough to hold his foemen down?" And the Queen, for reasons best known to herself, sent her sons from the room, and told Leodogran all she knew of Arthur, giving various stories that were afloat concerning his birth, and telling how, when she asked Merlin concerning the shining dragon- ship and the naked child cast up by the sea, the wizard had mocked her In riddling rhymes, saying: " Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky! A young man will be wiser by and by; An old man's wit may wander ere he die. " Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow on the lea! And truth is this to me, and that to thee; And truth or clothed or naked let it be. " Rain, sun, and rain! and the free blossom blows; Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he who knows? From the great deep to the great deep he goes." She told of Arthur's crowning and the miracles shown at that time, and said to the King heartily: "Fear not to give iVrthur thine only child, Guinevere, for he is a true king, and Merlin hath sworn that though men may wound him he will not die, but pass to come again, and then or now utterly smite the heathen under- foot, till these and all men hail him for their king." Her words left King Leodogran as unconvinced as before, and he decided to sleep over the matter. That night the truth came to him in a dream, as truth so often does come to man. He be- held as in a vision Arthur standing crowned in the heavens, while all his foes and those who spoke against him melted away like mists before the morning sun. And Leodogran awoke and sent word to Sir Bedivere and his comrades, bidding them tell Arthur that his suit was granted. There was great joy In Arthur's heart when the good tidings were heard, and he prepared to have the marriage take place 36 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING at once. As urgent state affairs called for his presence at home, he could not go for his bride himself; so he asked Sir Lancelot to go in his stead. And Lancelot consented right willingly, for he was pleased that the King should show so much confidence in him. It was the latter part of April when Lancelot set out, and the May flowers were blooming when he left Cameliard on the return journey with the beautiful princess. On every hand was the breath of spring, life, and love. Blue isles of heaven glanced upon them through the fresh, shimmering green of the forest trees, sunbeams danced madly around them, the flowers gave their sweet- est fragrance, and the birds fairly made the woods ring with their love anthems. The road seemingly lay through the very heart of Nature's most brilliant beauty, and endless were the enchanting pictures presented; but to Lancelot the loveliest picture of all was the Princess Guinevere. Clad in a beautiful gown of grass-green silk buckled with golden clasps, and crowned with a light green tuft of waving plumes, she seemed the very Queen of Nature and type of all that the wood-thrush sang in his dreamy notes. So charming she looked as she lightly sat her cream-white mule and swayed the rein with her dainty finger tips, that Lancelot felt a man might well give all his worldly worth for one kiss from her perfect lips, and in so thinking failed to see that the thought was treachery to the King. At last they came to Camelot and the waiting King, who hastened eagerly forward to greet his bride. Now as yet the prin- cess had not seen the King, and she scanned his fair, handsome face eagerly, thinking half discontentedly to herself that she pre- ferred Lancelot's dark eyes and raven hair to her lord's curling locks of gold and eyes of laughing blue ! Yet she made no sign, and knelt with Arthur on cloth-of-gold before the beautiful, white altar of Camelot, where the great St. Dubric, the holy head of the Church of Britain, spoke the solemn vows that made them one. " Behold, thy doom is mine," said Arthur, speaking the last words of the service softly and tenderly, his voice sounding like THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR 37 sweetest music. " Let chance what will, I love thee to the death!" And the new-made queen replied with drooping eyes, " King, and my lord, I love thee to the death ! " Then the holy Dubric spread his hands in blessing. " Reign ye, and live and love," he said, " and make the world other, — and may thy Queen be one with thee, and all this Order of thy Table Round fulfil the boundless purpose of its King ! " The King and the Queen then left the shrine and went forth into the beautiful, white city, which seemed all on fire with sun and cloth- of-gold. Children dressed in white ran before them, strewing flowers in their pathway and leading them on to the palace. White-garbed knights, rejoicing in Arthur's joy, blew their trumpets madly, and then broke forth in one grand, rich chorus that seemed to fill the very heavens : " Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May! Blow trumpet, the long night hath roU'd away! Blow thro' the living world — ' Let the King reign! ' "Shall Rome or Heathen rule In Arthur's realm? Flash brand and lance, fall battle-ax on helm, Fall battle-ax, and flash brand! Let the King reign! " Strike for the King and live! His knights have heard That God hath told the King a secret word. Fall battle-ax, and flash brand! Let the King reign! " Blow trumpet! he will lift us from the dust. Blow trumpet! live the strength and die the lust! Clang battle-ax, and clash brand ! Let the King reign ! " Strike for the King and die! and if thou diest, The King is king, and ever wills the highest. Clang battle-ax, and clash brand! Let the King reign! 38 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " Blow, for our Sun is mighty in his May ! Blow, for our Sun is mightier day by day! Clang battle-ax, and clash brand! Let the King reign! " The King will follow Christ, and we the King, In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing. Fall battle-ax, and flash brand ! Let the King reign ! " CHAPTER V Arthur's enemies at court EVEN as Arthur sat at the wedding banquet, with his bride on one side and Sir Lancelot on the other, his enemies could not leave him in peace. In there came some lords from Rome — delegates of the Roman Emperor — to claim tribute as of old. But Arthur would not listen to them, saying : "Nay, the old order changeth, yielding place to new; tribute to whom tribute is due, custom to whom custom. And since ye are grown too old and weak to do your part and guard this realm from heathen enemies, there shall be no more talk of tribute." Then the great lords departed in anger, and Arthur was obliged to go to war with Rome to enforce his word. So he was given but little time to make the acquaintance of his beautiful queen, and it was with a sad heart that he left her in the care of Sir Lance- lot and a few other trusted knights who were chosen to guard the palace and the ladies of the Court. But Arthur was mighty in battle and the excitement of the fray was music to his soul, so the time passed rapidly, after all. And in three months he was able to turn joyfully homeward, having defeated the Romans in twelve great battles and utterly put them to rout. For a time Arthur was allowed to enjoy life in Camelot. There were no enemies without to subdue, and it seemed as though his beautiful dream of spending the rest of his days in peace was to be realized, when all at once he found that there were many traitors about him. Jealousy was beginning to creep in, and here and there were envious souls who coveted the throne. Every now and then it was whispered that Arthur was not the man to be king, that his strength lay only in his powerful sword, Excalibur, and that without it he would be as nothing. The knights, too, were slip- 39 40 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING ping from their high standard. Without battles to fight, time hung heavily upon their hands, and they sapped their strength with much feasting, with unseemly jousts, and bouts at the gaming tables. Also the finger of scorn was pointed secretly at Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, and it was whispered that the beautiful queen loved Lancelot instead of the King. But of these last idle whis- perings not a word did King Arthur hear. He was too pure and noble himself to see aught but good in others, and he did not even dream of doubting his wife or of questioning the loyalty of his beloved knight whom he regarded as a brother. Now the chief whisperer of the throng at Court and the in- stigator of most of the mischief was one Modred, Arthur's nephew, son of Queen Bellicent of Orkney. He was a wily, oily-tongued scoundrel, who did all he could to work himself into King Arthur's good graces and then prepared to do him harm when his back was turned. It was Modred's desire to drive Arthur from the throne and seat himself upon it, and he was aided and abetted in his slander of the Queen by Vivien, the sorceress, who, you will re- member, was to destroy Merlin by shutting him up In the hol- low oak. She hated Arthur because he was pure and good and refused to submit to her charms, and she knew that she could hurt him most by bowing low the head of the beautiful queen whom he loved with all his heart. There was another who hated Arthur, and despised and envied the Queen. This was Queen Morgan le Fay, sister to Queen Bellicent and half-sister, also, to Arthur. Beautiful was she be- yond description, and as false as she was fair, — a very fiend among women. Mistress of many witches' charms, she determined to capture the sword Excalibur, and have Arthur put to death; then she would establish her lover on the throne as King, and reign herself as Queen. It was not hard to get Excalibur, as Arthur had never yet re- alized the need of keeping it under guard. So Queen Morgan le Fay found out where it was kept, and bided her time. Soon ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 41 King Arthur and her husband, King Urien, and Sir Accolan, a brave but fooHsh knight who had allowed himself to become smitten with Queen Morgan le Fay's charms, felt a strange desire to go hunting in each other's company, and set out together for the deep forest. Hardly had they entered it when a young hart sprang up in their pathway and they chased it for many a weary mile. At last Sir Urien lamed his horse, and the three dismounted and gave chase on foot, as it was evident that the hart was nearly spent. Finally it disappeared completely and the men found themselves standing hopelessly bewildered by the side of a strange lake. In a moment their eyes took in what appeared to be a deserted ship riding at anchor close to the shore, and King Arthur proposed that they go aboard and explore her. They found the ship to be a most beautiful little vessel, richly and admirably fitted up, and they spent so much time over it that night was upon them before they were aware of it. Then there was a sound as of clapping hands, and in a twinkling sailors ap- peared on every side, and twelve damsels, clad in white, came and bowed before the King welcoming him warmly. Then they in- vited the men to come out to supper in the tiny salon, where they pressed all manner of dainties upon them, and there was much feasting. Being weary with the day's chase, the men soon asked if they could stay there for the night, and were shown at once to separate sleeping apartments where they fell immediately into deep, dreamless slumber. When King Urien awoke he found himself at home in the chamber with his wife. Sitting up, he stared about him in dis- may, half wondering if the hunt and what followed had been a dream. Then, catching sight of the mocking smile on his wife's face as she watched him under half-closed lids, he at once sus- pected that the whole business was one of her charms, and doubted not that some treason against Arthur was intended. But he spoke never a word. As for King Arthur, he was even at that moment lying among 42 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING some twenty knights in a distant dungeon, where he had found himself on awakening. As soon as his first surprise was over, he began to question those about him and learned that he was Imprisoned by Sir Damas, a wicked knight who falsely kept from his inheritance his younger brother, Sir Ontzlake. " Damas causes travelers to be taken prisoners by a band of his robbers," explained a knight, " in the hope that he will one day get hold of a champion to fight and kill Sir Ontzlake for him. Damas Is a coward and refuses brave Ontzlake's entreaty that he will fight him single-handed for the Inheritance, or else that he will provide a knight to fight for him. Now there is not among us a knight that would fight for Damas. We would far rather starve in prison ! " " Then the Lord deliver you ! " exclaimed Sir Arthur com- passionately. As he spoke a fair damsel appeared before Arthur, inquiring, "What cheer?" " Alas," answered the King sadly, " I know not. But stay," he added quickly, as the maiden half turned away, " methinks I have seen thee at the Court of Arthur? " " Nay," answered the maiden, smiling and dimpling, " I have not been there." Yet It was a falsehood she told, for she was one of Morgan le Fay's maidens and was secretly pleased to think that the great king remembered her. " I am of Sir Damas' house- hold, and I am sent to tell you that you shall be delivered, if you will but consent to fight a knight for Sir Damas." " I will do so gladly," answered Arthur, for he was of no mind to die in prison. " If only I may have a good sword, horse, and armor, and also If my fellow prisoners may be freed." " All shall be as you require," replied the maiden. " My master will be greatly pleased. I will come for you within the hour, and shall bring with me your great sword, Excalibur." And she de- parted, smiling. ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 43 And now let us turn for a moment and see how it had fared with the third member of the hunting party, Sir Accolan. He awoke to find himself in the heart of a deep forest, and as he stood rubbing his eyes in amazement and wondering which way to turn, a damsel appeared before him. '* I bid you good cheer, Sir Accolan," she observed smilingly and curtseyed prettily before him. " I am come from Queen Morgan le Fay. She bids you take heart and follow me." "Whither dost thou lead?" queried Sir Accolan, half minded to turn and run the other way, for he was sore frightened and bewildered. *' To the home of Sir Ontzlake near at hand," answered the maiden. " He will aid thee and set thee on the way." And so perforce the knight followed the maiden and presently came to the Ontzlake castle where the lord of the manor welcomed him heartily and caused food to be set before him. As they sat at meat a messenger arrived from Sir Damas, bidding Sir Ontz- lake to present himself at two o'clock near the old tower if he wished to test his strength for the inheritance. " Alas," mourned Sir Ontzlake, " 'tis the opportunity I most de- sire, but it has come at an ill-fated time. Here am I with a broken rib and a severe lance wound in my sword arm. How can I fight and come off victorious? Yet if I do not consent, my brother will never again make the offer and I shall forever lose my birthright! Woe is me ! " " Indeed, Sir Ontzlake," cried Sir Accolan quickly. " You are in sore straits ! Allow me to offer myself in your stead. 'Twould be a pleasure to do this thing for you in return for the kindness you have shown me." " Thank you kindly, friend, and the Lord reward you I " an- swered Sir Ontzlake warmly. " I am minded to accept your aid in the same spirit in which you offer it. You are a brave and noble knight, and a man after my own heart! If you will do this thing tor me then you need never want for a friend so long as Harry 44 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Ontzlake lives! And you may command me even to the half of my inheritance, and It is thine ! " "Zounds! man, say no more," cried Sir Accolan. "Is it not reward enough if I may call thee friend? Have I not heard of thy goodness and bounty and how thou art beloved of all within thy gates? Then, too, I am of the Court of Arthur and sworn to help all worthy persons in need of aid. Provide me with sword and arms at once, I pray thee. I but do my duty." And so it came to pass that at precisely two o'clock King Arthur and Sir Accolan rushed upon each other, both having been so changed in that long, dreamless sleep that neither one recognized the other. From the very first the battle was fierce, for both were skilled swordsmen, and many were the admiring shouts drawn from the bystanders, who were composed of Sir Damas and his household, the knights from the dungeon, and Sir Ontzlake and his retainers. Soon King Arthur was covered with blood, while his assailant showed scarce a wound, and Arthur marveled much. It seemed to him as though Excalibur swung lightly in his hand and refused to bite steel as he was wont to do. And presently he became con- vinced that there was treachery somewhere and felt sure that his opponent held the real Excalibur, for the two swords were seem- ingly alike, and he knew that his sister, Morgan le Fay, whom the damsel said had sent the sword, had played him false. All at once Arthur's sword snapped off close to the hilt, and he was weak and faint and felt that he must die, yet he was too proud and brave to cry for quarter. " Zounds, man ! " cried Sir Accolan admiringly, " you are the bravest knight that ever swung sword." And all present felt that he spoke truly and marveled how Arthur could fight as he did, being so sorely wounded. " Will you not give in, friend? I dis- like to slay a defenseless man ! You can fight no longer with a broken sword! " said Sir Accolan. Then a strange thing happened. There came a sound as of the ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 45 rushing of many waters and the Lady of the Lake appeared In a cloud of mist and stood at Arthur's side. But he saw her not. At that moment he made a wild, despairing charge at Sir Ac- colan, striking him with the hilt of his broken sword and so daz- ing him that he lunged forward and dropped his own. In a mo- ment Arthur sprang forward and caught it up, and gave a mad shout as he recognized it. For it was Excalibur which he had in his hand, and the jewels which had beamed dull in the hands of Sir Accolan now shone brightly and gave forth a light as of many torches, and the people huddled together amazed. Then Arthur cried compassionately to his opponent, who had struggled to his feet but remained standing with his head bowed so that he saw not the miracles: " Friend, will you not ask for mercy? I care not to kill you when you are not in the wrong and fight the battle of another! " But Sir Accolan shook his head. " Alas, brave knight, I thank you, but I can not do it. My swordsman's pride is too great. Do your duty according to custom. But first tell me from what Court are you, for I never before saw so brave a man! " As he spoke he raised his eyes, and in that moment the Lady of the Lake made a few strange passes and the change which had disguised the faces of Arthur and Sir Accolan rolled away. Each knew the other and fell back amazed. "Alas! my King!" cried Sir Accolan, in a voice choked with horror and tears. " Thy forgiveness I implore ! I knew thee not, else had I died rather than strike thee ! " " It is freely granted, my friend and most brave knight," an- swered Arthur kindly. " I know you fought me blindly. 'TIs the work of my wicked sister, Morgan le Fay, the enchantress. She would fain see me slain." Then he turned angrily to Sir Damas and flashed the light of Excalibur into his eyes so that he was sore afraid and trembled until his knees smote together. " Sir Damas there will be no more fighting to-day! I command thee to give to thy brother, Sir Ontzlake, his full share of the inheritance. 46 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING and so to live that thou shalt be an honor to thy country and the peerage! If thou dost this not, then shall thy life be the for- feit!" So saying, the King turned about and beckoned to Sir Accolan, signifying his readiness to depart. But ere they could start, Sir Ontzlake came forward and kneeled before the King, begging him and Sir Accolan to come home with him and be his guests until the morrow for darkness was even then descending upon them. This the King gladly consented to do, and when morning dawned Sir Ontzlake not only provided them with horses to make the journey but petitioned King Arthur to swear him into the Order of the Round Table that he might dwell with him and his knights forever. In this way Queen Morgan le Fay's scheme had failed, and she knew it on the instant and fled with all speed from the Court lest Arthur wreak vengeance upon her when he came home. But Arthur's knights told him where she had gone, and when Sir Ac- colan died from his wounds four days after reaching Camelot, Arthur caused his remains to be placed upon a bier and sent to her, under guard of six knights, with the following message : "Behold your work! Take your lover and mourn him well! But see that you plan no more treason for I have my sword Ex- calibur again." This message filled Morgan le Fay with bitter anger, but she was nearly heartbroken over the loss of Sir Accolan, and felt that she cared not to reign as queen if she could not have him on the throne beside her. So she nursed her wrath quietly, and gave no sign. And because of this Arthur was merciful and would not al- low his knights to go after her and burn her at the stake, as they wished to do. After many days there came to Arthur one of Queen Morgan le Fay's handmaidens bearing a " peace-offering." It was a most beautiful cloak, all decorated and embroidered with beautiful stones. And Arthur was pleased for he thought his sister had repented, DAMSEL, LET ME FIRST SEE THIS CLOAK UPON YOU, THAT I MAY THE BETTER OBSERVE IT' " Page 4-7 ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 47 inasmuch as the maiden assured him solemnly that the queen de- sired to make amends for the wrong she had done him. As the King extended his hands to receive the cloak, a blinding mist fell upon those who stood near, and when they could see clearly again they beheld the Lady of the Lake whispering to Arthur. And the King's brow grew black, but at the end of the conference he turned quietly to the damsel and observed softly: " Damsel, let me first see this cloak upon you, that I may the better observe it." The damsel smilingly obeyed him and threw the cloak about her shoulders. The next moment the girl fell dead at the feet of the King. A great clamor then ensued and the knights de- manded that they be allowed tO' go out and wreak vengeance upon the queen for the death blow which their beloved King had so narrowly escaped. At first Arthur would not consent, but when Lancelot and Queen Guinevere had added their pleadings to the others, he gave way and allowed Lancelot and Ontzlake to lead a party against her. The queen's spies informed her that they were coming, and when they reached her castle she and her castle knights had fled into the forest. But all to no purpose, for the knights pursued her hotly and eagerly, and the queen soon saw that unless she re- sorted to witchcraft she would be taken. So she changed herself and her knights into columns of stone. Soon Lancelot and Ontz- lake lost the trail nor could they find It again, and they finally paused beside the very column of stone which hid the queen and gave vent to their wrath and disappointment. For many days the knights tarried In the forest, but they finally gave up the search and went back to Camelot. Then the queen resurrected herself and her men and they went away to the north of England ; nor did she ever dare to show herself in the Court of Arthur again. But her husband, King Urien, remained one of Arthur's most faithful knights until his death, having wisely ac- cepted the advice of Arthur when he counseled him, saying: 48 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " Thy wife, my sister Morgan le Fay, is as false as she is fair. Cleave not unto her. I know from the mouth of Sir Accolan that she intended to do away with thee and crown him King, had she succeeded in her evil designs against me. Of course, I can have no one from her household in my Court, but I desire thee to re- main if so thou hast naught to do with her, for I think thou hast never been a party to her evil doings. But there are some among her kinsmen that must be banished." Sir Unwain and Sir Baumain, nephews of Queen Morgan le Fay, who had openly aided her, were then banished from the Court, and afterward made great trouble for Arthur by stirring up rebellions among the border kings and by annoying him in many petty ways. But the wily Modred, guiltiest soul among them, managed to escape the suspicions of Arthur and remained at Court to hatch the worst conspiracy of all — the breaking up of the Round Table and the death of the noble King. CHAPTER VI GARETH OF ORKNEY QUEEN BELLICENT, wife of Lot of Orkney, and half- sister to King Arthur, was the mother of three stalwart sons. Two of them, Sir Modred and Sir Gawain, were knights of King Arthur, as we have already seen. The third and youngest, Gareth, tallest, cleanest-limbed and most noble of them all, was still at home. And though he chafed to go and help to work the will of Arthur In cleansing the world, his mother, foolish in her love and worship of him, would not consent. " My son," she was wont to say In answer to his eager plead- ings, "hast thou no pity for my loneliness? Lo, thy father. Lot, lies like a log all day beside the hearth! He Is old and unfit to manage his estates, and both thy brethren are In Arthur's hall. Red berries ever charm the young bird, but stay thou with me, my best beloved! Rule well thy father's kingdom; follow the deer — sweet Is the chase — and let wars and jousts and tourna- ments pass by. Make thy manhood mightier day by day by do- ing thy duty faithfully here at Orkney till I am old and passed away, and I will seek thee out some fair bride to grace thy home and halls and comfort us! Stay, my best son, thou art yet more boy than man ! " And once Gareth, overwrought, answered thus: "Aye, and as you hold me yet for a child, hear now the story of a child that might be like me: Mother, there was once a king whose heir, when tall and marriageable, asked for a bride; and thereupon the King set two before him. One was fair, strong-armed — but to be won oy force — and many men desired her; one, good lack, no man desired. And these were the conditions of the King: that save he won the first by force, he needs must wed that other, whom 49 50 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING no man desired, — a red-faced bride who knew herself so vile that evermore she longed to hide herself. And one, they called her Fame; and the other one was Shame! Oh, Mother, how can you keep me here tethered to you? Man am I grown; a man's work must I do. Follow the deer? No! Follow the Christ, the King; live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King — else, wherefore born? " And the mother sought once more to dissuade him, and spoke of the doubt in the minds of some people as to whether Arthur really were the true king, closing with the entreaty: "Stay till the cloud that settles around his birth hath lifted but a little. Stay, sweet son! " Then Gareth answered quickly : " Nay, Mother, not one hour, so that you yield me. I would walk through fire. Mother, to gain your full leave to go! And who can say Arthur is not proven king? Who swept the dust of ruined Rome from off the thresh- old of our realm, crushed the Idolaters, and made the people free? Who should be king save he who makes us free? " But Queen Bellicent answered not his quick questions, her keen mind having taken hold of what he was willing to endure, and seemingly shown her a way of escape. " And will you walk through fire? " she queried craftily. " He who walks through fire will hardly heed the smoke. Aye, go then, if you must, but before you ask the King to make you knight, I demand one proof of your obedience and your love of me." And Gareth cried impatiently: " A hard one, or a hundred, so I go! Give me the proof and test me to the quick! " " Prince," said the queen mother, speaking slowly, " thou shalt go disguised to Arthur's hall, and hire thyself to serve for meats and drinks among the scullions and the kitchen-knaves, and those that hand the dish across the bar. Nor shalt thou tell thy name to any one. And thou shalt serve a twelve-month and a day." In this way the queen hoped to discourage him; for she felt that if there were no way open to glory for her princely-proud GARETH OF ORKNEY 51 son excepting through the avenue of the kitchen-vassalage, the poor- est post In the King's household, he would give up the idea. But she did not know Gareth of Orkney! Only a moment he pondered, and then answered sadly : " The thrall in person may be f»ree in soul, and I shall see the jousts. Thy son am I, and since thou art my mother, must obey. I there- fore yield me freely to thy will. So hence will I, disguised, and hire myself to serve with scullions and with kitchen-knaves; nor tell my name to any — no, not the King." Great was the chagrin and grief of Queen Bellicent when he accepted her terms, and Gareth, seeing this, tarried for a few days, for he loved his mother and disliked to leave her in sorrow. And there arose in the queen's heart a hope that he would resolve to stay. But one morning, while the castle household was yet asleep, Gareth summoned his courage and clad himself like a tiller of the soil; and taking with him his two faithful serving-men, who had waited upon him since a child, he disguised them also, and quietly set out for the Court of Arthur. For two days they journeyed to the southward and then on the third, a bright, beautiful morning near Whitsuntide, they came to the wonderful gates of Camelot, where they held their breath in amazement. And as they stood with shining eyes drinking in the beauty of the white city, they heard a blast of strange, sweet music, and an old, gray-bearded man came forth and inquired of them : " Who be ye, my sons ? " And Gareth answered straightway: "We be tillers of the soil, come to see the glories of the King. But your city moves so weirdly in the mist that these, my men, doubt If the King be king at all, or come from Fairyland; and whether this city be built by magic or by fairy kings and queens; or whether, indeed, there be any city at all, or all a vision; and this music now hath brightened them both, but do you tell them the truth." Now the old man was really Merlin In disguise, and he saw through their pretense at once, but he answered Gareth soberly. 52 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING though his eyes twinkled, " Son, I have seen the good ship sail keel upwards In the heavens, and solid turrets topsy-turvy In the air. And here Is truth; but If it pleases thee not, take thou the truth as thou hast told It to me ! Truly as thou sayest, son, fairy kings and queens have built this city. They came from out a sacred mountain-cleft toward the sunrise, each with a harp In hand, and built it to the music of their harps. And as thou sayest, son. It is enchanted; for there Is nothing In It as It seems, saving the King. And take thou heed of him; for thou art not what thou seemest, and thou goest up to mock the King, who can not brook the shadow of any He ! " Then Merlin motioned toward the gates and himself turned sadly away, leaving Gareth filled with wonder and awe. And then It dawned upon the youth that he had been speaking with Merlin, and he laughed joyously and entered with his two followers. But nevertheless his heart jumped Into his throat as he went onward; and when he finally came to the hall where the great Arthur Pen- dragon sat crowned on his throne, his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth for very fear and his knees smote together, " For this half-shadow of a lie that I am acting, the truthful King will doom me when I speak," he thought sorrowfully, and timidly he glanced around half fearing that one or the other of his brothers, Gawain or Modred, would recognize and unthinkingly betray him, but he saw neither of them. Their absence gave him courage, and he glanced about eagerly, noting the many knights who stood with their eyes upon their chief In love and faith. And as Gareth watched and waited, people came before the King with pleas for aid and justice, and the King heard their causes one by one and delivered judgment; and none who cried for succor cried in vain. And justice was meted out after this manner: First there came a widow to the King, crying: "A boon. Sir King! Thy father, Uther, took from my lord a field by violence. I pray thee make it right." GARETH OF ORKNEY 53 And Arthur asked: "What wouldst thou, woman, field or gold?" " The field, my Lord," replied the woman, weeping, " for It was pleasant In my husband's eyes." So Arthur, smiling, said: " Have thy pleasant field again, and thrice the gold for Uther's use thereof, according to the years. No boon Is here; just common justice, so thy story be proven true. Accursed be he who from the wrongs his father did would shape himself aright! " And so the tales went on, and as each tale of suffering was recited, some knight would cry: "A boon. Sir King! Give me the leave to right this wrong! " The King would grant the boon, and the knight would ride away to redress the wrong, glad Indeed to be of some small service In doing battle for the Christ and his most blameless King, Finally there came a messenger from King Mark of Cornwall, bearing a magnificent present of cloth-of-gold which he laid at Arthur's feet, and kneeling, he asked that Mark be made a knight of the Round Table. " Just Heaven! " cried Arthur, rising In mighty wrath, for Mark was a traitorous, lying king, a coward who struck in the dark when his foe's back was turned. "Hear I aright? Dare that traitor ask for a place for his shield here among these my trusted knights and true? " As he spoke, the King waved his hands toward the side walls, and Gareth observed that on either hand was a treble row of shields with a knight's name engraven beneath each. A knight standing near him explained In a low voice that it was Arthur's custom when a knight had done one noble deed to have his arms carved, and for each other knightly deed he did a jewel was added. And Arthur straightway looked for his brothers' shields and saw Gawaln's all bright and shining with jewels, but Modred's was dim and blank as death. Then Gareth's eyes wandered back to Arthur, and he saw him 54 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING rend the cloth In two and cast It upon the blazing hearth, ere he turned to the shrinking messenger. " Thy Mark hath tarnished the great name of King, and he would sully the low state of churl! But, seeing he hath sent us cloth-of-gold, return thou and hold him from our eyes lest we lap him up in cloth of lead! Craven, man of plots, craft, poisonous counsels, wayside ambushings — " Then the great King paused, silenced, perhaps, by the frightened expression of the man who cowered before him, and said kindly: " 'Tis no fault of thine, man. Seneschal, take him hence and satisfy his hunger ere he leaves the Court. Accursed be he who strikes and lets not his hand be seen! " Gareth was next in line, and, for a moment, his heart coun- seled him to turn and run, but he subdued it and advanced bravely, leaning on his men. " A boon, Sir King ! For see you not how weak and hunger-worn I seem, leaning on these? Grant me to serve for meat and drink among your kitchen-knaves a twelve- month and a day, nor seek my name. Hereafter I will fight." The King answered him, saying: " A goodly youth and worth a goodlier boon ! But so thou wilt no goodlier, then must Sir Kay be thy master." Then the King rose and departed, and the knights went their several ways. All this time Sir Lancelot's keen, dark eyes had been observing Gareth, and he now came over to Sir Kay counseling him to treat the lad kindly; for he believed him to be some noble youth in disguise, some king's son bent on having a lark. But Sir Kay secretly despised Lancelot, so he roughly bade him mind his own business. And for this kindly meant interference he made Gareth suffer all the more. He called him Sir Fine-face and Sir Fair-hands, and gave him the rudest place in the castle for his bed, caused him to be served with the roughest food, and forced him to do work beyond his strength. But for all this Gareth never murmured. Bravely he bowed himself to obedience and wrought with kindly pleasance for the King, gracing each lowly act in the doing of it. GARETH OF ORKNEY 55 And when the kitchen-knaves talked among themselves, they would tell the love that bound the King and Lancelot — how the King had saved his life in battle twice, and Lancelot once the King's, for Lancelot was the first in tournament, but Arthur mightiest on the battle-field, — and Gareth was glad. Or they would tell how once the wandering forester at dawn, far over the blue towns and hazy seas, found the King, a naked babe, of whom the prophet spake : " He passes to the Isle of Avalon. He passes and is healed and can not die " — and Gareth rejoiced in their tale. But if their talk was foul, then would he whistle rapid as any lark, or carol some old song so loudly that at first they mocked, but after came to reverence him. And if a tale of knightly deeds and daring were wanted, then Gareth's was the tongue to spin it; and he held all the knaves spell-bound till Sir Kay's angry voice would be heard and they would scatter like leaves before the wind. And if, perchance, the knaves chanced to play at jousts, then Gareth easily won above all the rest. And so life went on for a month or more, until the queen, his mother, repented of the hard vows she had made her beloved boy swear, and sent arms and a kindly message to release him. Then the heart of Gareth rejoiced. He laughed; he ran; he leaped, and finally presented himself all breathless before Arthur and told him all: "Sire and my Liege," he cried, "I have staggered thy strong Gawain in a tilt for pastime; yea, he said it: joust can L Make me thy knight in secret! Let my name be hidden, and give me the first quest! " The great King smiled in sympathy with him and observed gently: " Son, thy good mother let me know of this, and asked me to yield thy wish. But, make thee my knight? Sir, my knights are sworn to vows of utter hardihood, utter gentleness, utter faith- fulness in love, and utter obedience to the King." And Gareth answered from his knees: "My King, for hardi- hood I can promise thee. For uttermost obedience, ask the seneschal, who, by the way, is no mellow master of meats and 56 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING drinks! For loving, I love not yet, but if it pleases fortune to send me the maiden of my dreams, I can love truly, God willing." King Arthur was pleased with the boy's reply, and consented to make him a knight privately, providing his good friend and counselor, Sir Lancelot, did not object. So Lancelot was sent for and entered heartily into the plan, and Gareth was knighted and danced away to the kitchen, still in disguise. Then the King turned to his favorite knight and spoke gravely, saying: "Lancelot, I have given him the first quest. He is not proven. Look, therefore, when he calls for this in the hall; get you to horse and follow him far away. Cover the lions on your shield, that no man may know you, and see as far as you may that he be not slain or taken prisoner." Now it happened that early the next morning there came into Arthur's hall a beautiful maiden of high lineage. Like the May- blossom was her brow from which the golden-brown hair rippled back, her cheeks rivaled the bloom of the delicate apple blossom, her eyes gleamed like the starry night, her nose tip-tilted like the petal of a flower, and all about her was an airy gracefulness and perfume that made poor Gareth's head swim. Very proud was this maiden, with opinions of her own, and she proved them straightway by daring to lecture the King. " O King," she cried, " you have driven away the foe without, why suffer you the foe within? Every bridge, ford, and tower for half a league around is beset by bandits! Why sit you there? If / were King, I would not rest until even the loneliest hollow were as free from bloodshed as your altar cloth ! " " Comfort thyself," said Arthur softly, though his eyes twinkled and he was secretly much amused, " neither I nor mine rest. If my knights keep the vows they swore, the meanest moor- land of our realm shall in time be as safe, damsel, as the center of this hall. But pray what is thy name? And what thy need? " Pleased by the courteous, kindly manner of the King, the maiden spoke more gently: " My name is Lynette. I am come to seek GARETH OF ORKNEY 57 aid for my sister, the Lady Lyonors, who is imprisoned in Castle Perilous by a wicked knight who seeks to force her to wed him. Now this castle is wound about by three loops of a river, and over it are three passings. Each passing is defended by a knight, and there is a fourth one, more powerful than all the others, who defends the castle. And I demand of thee thy chief knight. Sir Lancelot, to overcome these men, for no other can do it ! " " Ah ! " observed the King, still speaking softly, but with his mind fixed upon the lad, Gareth, to whom he now regretted he had been unwise enough to promise the first quest. " Damsel, you know this Order lives to crush all wrongers of the Realm. But tell me about these four, and who they are." " They are of the old knight-errantry," answered Lynette quickly. " No law or king have they, and courteous or bestial is their manner, as best pleases them. Proud of their strength are they, and they call themselves the Day. Morning Star, Noon Sun, and Evening Star are the three who guard the bridges, and the castle guard is a huge, savage man-beast, who names himself Night, or more often, Death. He wears a helmet mounted with a skull, and bears a skeleton figured on his arms. These are four fools, King, but mighty men; and therefore am I come for Lance- lot." Hearing this, Gareth, with kindling eyes, called from where he stood, a head taller than those about him in the throng: "A boon. Sir King, this quest! " Then, as Sir Kay, who stood near him, groaned like a wounded bull, he continued excitedly : " Yea, King, thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am L But I am mighty through thy meats and drinks, and I can topple over a hundred such! Thy promise. King!" And Arthur, glancing at him with the frowning brows of per- plexity, exclaimed shortly: "Go! Thou art worthy!" And all the hearers were amazed. As for the maiden, Lynette, anger, shame, and pride chased away the May-white of her brow. Raising high her dimpled arms, ^8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING she cried scornfully: " Fie on thee, King! I asked for thy chief knight, and thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave ! " Then, ere man could stay her, she turned and flew swiftly from the hall to her horse without the door, and galloped away through the weird white gate, never pausing until she reached the tourney field where she burst into angry tears, murmuring chokingly, " Kitchen-knave, forsooth ! Fie upon him ! " In the meantime. Sir Gareth fled another way to where stood a horse. King Arthur's gift, the worth of half a town, a war horse of the best, held in waiting, with spear and shield, by the two who had followed Gareth from the North. Loosening a string, his kitchen garb fell off and he stood revealed before all the kitchen thralls and curious knights who had followed him, a noble knight In glittering, jeweled armor. From all the by- standers rose a cry of admiration, and the kitchen-knaves threw up their caps, shouting lustily : " God bless the King and all his fellowship ! " Then, followed by the cheers and good wishes of all save the jealous-hearted Sir Kay, who cursed and grumbled so loudly that Lancelot rebuked him sorely, Gareth passed out from the gate and spurred his horse to where the maiden still lingered by the tourney field, murmuring: "Wherefore did the King scorn me? For, if it were impossible to send Lancelot, at least he might have yielded to me one of those who tilt for lady's love and glory here, rather than — O sweet Heaven! O fie upon him! — his kitchen- knave! " When Gareth, looking full noble and handsome in his brave attire, came up and bowed low in courtly fashion before her, say- ing, " Maiden, the quest is mine. Lead, and I follow," she cried shrilly : " Hence ! Avoid ! Thou smellest all of kitchen grease ! And look who comes behind ! " At this moment an angry bellowing came over Gareth's shoul- der, and the voice of Sir Kay cried: " Knowest thou not me, thy master? I am Kay, We lack thee by the hearth." GARETH OF ORKNEY 59 Turning quickly, Gareth beheld the pompous seneschal astride a borrowed horse, and his brow grew black. " Master no more ! " he cried scornfully. " Too well I know thee, the most ungentle knight in Arthur's hall." With that he quickly unseated Kay, and leaving him with a slight sword prick in his shoulder, galloped after the fast flying maiden. When the heart of her good horse was well-nigh ready to burst with violence of the pace, the maiden perforce drew rein, and, overtaken, spoke : " What dost thou, scullion, in my fellowship ? Deemest thou that I accept thee more that by some device full cow- ardly thou hast overthrown thy master? Thou dish-washer and broach-turner ! To me thou smellest all of the kitchen as be- fore ! " " Damsel," Sir Gareth answered gently, refusing to be rebuked or angered by the hasty words or the scorn In her beautiful face, " whatever you will, and whatever you say, I leave not until I finish this fair quest, or die." "Aye, wilt thou finish It?" scoffed the maiden tantallzlngly. ^' Sweet lord, how like a noble knight he talks ! The listening rogue hath caught the manner of it. But, knave, thou shalt be met with knave, and by such a one that thou, for all the kitchen brews that were ever supped, shalt not once dare to look him In the face." " I shall try," said Gareth, with a smile that maddened her, and away she flashed again down the long avenues of the boundless wood. But, after a time, she drew rein and turned hesitatingly to the despised knave at her side, and his heart bounded as it seemed to him there was less of scorn In her fair face. " Sir Kitchen- knave, I have missed the only way where Arthur's men are stationed through the wood, and this forest Is nigh as full of thieves as leaves. We are lost. If both be slain, then I am rid of thee. But yet. Sir Scullion, life Is sweet, — and canst thou 6o THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING use that spear of thine? Fight if thou knowest how; for, thanks to Arthur's scanty grace, I have missed the road! " And Gareth tried to reassure the maiden, but finding she would not Hsten to him, determined to ride bravely by her side and prove his right to knighthood if he could. They were even then climb- ing the long slope of a hill, and, when they came to the summit, they beheld in the valley beyond a gloomy-shaded mere, and on its banks were six strong men about to throw a bound man into its depths. And even as Gareth and the maiden looked, a frightened serv- ing man burst through the bracken and cried to the knight: " Help, my lord ! The villains are drowning the baron, my master, a serv- ant of King Arthur! " Gareth needed no more words; indeed he would probably have gone to the help of the outnumbered man had no one appeared to beg aid. With a hastily murmured word of assurance to Lynette, he swooped down upon the villains and smote them hip and thigh. Three of them were stretched senseless upon the ground, and the other three ran screaming into the forest. Then Gareth loosed the stone from off the captive baron's neck, freed him of his bonds, and helped him to his feet. " Oh, my friend," cried the baron, stretching out his hand to Gareth, '* it is well that you came ! Those rogues had soon made short work of me. Good cause is theirs; for it hath long been my custom, if I caught a thief, to tie a stone around his neck and drown him here. Many of them are rotting in these waters, and at night, so the servants say, they slip loose from the stone and dance upon the mere ! But, now that you have saved my life, and it is worth somewhat as a cleanser of this wood, let me reward you." " No," answered Gareth quickly. " For the deed's sake have I done this deed in uttermost obedience to the King. But wilt thou give this maiden shelter for the night?" " Right welcome are ye both ! " responded the baron heartily, GARETH OF ORKNEY 6i again extending his hand to Gareth. " I well believe thou art of our good Arthur's table ! " A light laugh now broke from Lynette, who had joined them as soon as the baron was freed. " Aye, of a truth he is, being Arthur's kitchen-knave ! " she cried. " But do not think, scullion, that you are more welcome to me because ye have put to rout a lot of craven foresters ! A thresher could have scattered them with his flail! Nay, you smell of the kitchen still! " Gareth answered never a word, but signed for the baron to lead on, and there came to him a half-regretful wish that the baron had not crossed his path, for the maiden had been half will- ing to trust him when no other protection was nigh! The Lord Baron's home proved to be a castle rich and fair, and he eagerly spread before his guests all its hospitalities. Soon he invited them to partake of a feast that had that day been held in the castle, and placed a roasted peacock before Lynette, seating Gareth by her side. The maiden rose at once in angry scorn. " Baron, this Is too much discourtesy, putting this knave by my side. Hear me : this morning I went In all confidence to Arthur's Court and begged for his best knight. Sir Lancelot, to rescue my sister, Lady Lyonors, who Is held prisoner by a man-savage In the Castle Perilous. Now, this lout, this kitchen-knave rose up and bawled out for the quest, and Arthur, suddenly gone mad, granted it. Think of it ! A vil- lain fitter to stick swine than to ride abroad redressing women's wrongs ! " " Methinks thou forgettest thyself, maiden!" answered the baron sternly. "Even a kitchen helper can be an honest man! And one can see at a glance that this man is not In his right a kitchen-knave; a knight Is he, and a most brave and noble one! " So saying, the Lord Baron turned his back none too politely upon the indignant maiden, and seating Gareth at another table placed himself beside him. " Friend, it matters not to me If thou be'st a kitchen-knave, or If the King or yonder damsel be mad. 62 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Thou strikest a strong stroke, and thou art a goodly knight and the saver of my life! If thou harkenest to my advice, thou wilt take yonder foolish Miss back to Camelot, and let Lancelot or some other fight her battles ! " But as Gareth would not turn back for the maiden's sneering words, neither would he pause for the friendly baron's advice, and so in early morning they set out, the maiden still as scornful and unyielding as before. At last they came by a rough-thicketed road to where a small bridge spanned a deep, narrow, frothing stream. On the farther side arose a silk pavilion, gay with the golden streaks and rays of the Lent-lily, save where the dome rose high and purple. From the top floated a slender crimson banner, and beneath, a lawless warrior paced unarmed. " Damsel," he cried, " is this the warrior bold that thou hast "brought from Arthur's Court to struggle for the pass ? " ^ "Nay, Sir Morning Star," answered the maiden, being divided In her scorn between Gareth and the warrior before her. " The King in utter scorn of thee and all thy folly hath sent his kitchen- knave. Beware lest he fall on thee suddenly and slay thee un- armed, for he is not a knight, but a knave." Gareth flushed crimson, but made no move while the warrior called for the Daughters of the Dawn to approach and arm him, waiting patiently until three beautiful, silken-clad, bare-footed, rosy-cheeked maidens, all glistening with dew-drops, appeared and clad the warrior in a blue armor and gave him a blue shield, with the morning-star engraved thereon. Lynette was not unmindful of her knight's gentle behavior, or of the admiration of the scene before him which lurked in his eyes, but she turned to him tauntingly, nevertheless, and asked: " Why stare you so? You shake in fear! There is yet time; flee down the valley before he gets to horse. Who will cry shame? You are not knight but knave ! " And Gareth replied quickly: " Damsel, whether knave or knight, far liefer had I fight a score of times than hear thee so GARETH OF ORKNEY 63 revile me. But truly thy words send a strength of anger through me. I know that I shall overthrow him! " But now the Morning Star cried to Gareth : " A kitchen-knave sent in scorn of me, such I fight not, but answer scorn for scorn. It were a shame to do him further wrong than to set him on his feet and take his horse and arms and return him to the King! Come, leave thy lady, knave. It beseemeth not a knave to ride with a lady ! " " Dog, thou liest ! " cried Gareth angrily. " I spring from loftier lineage than thine own." Forthwith the two sprang angrily at each other, and Gareth lashed so fiercely with his brand that he soon had his foe groveling on the ground. " Take not my life! I yield," cried the warrior. " So this damsel ask it of me," answered Gareth, " I accord It easily as a grace." "Insolent scullion!" cried the maiden, reddening. "I ask of thee! I bound to thee for any favor asked! Then shall he die." But as Gareth began to unlace the warrior's helmet, she shrieked: " Be not so hardy, scullion, as to slay one nobler than thyself! " " Damsel," returned Gareth graciously, " thy charge is an abounding pleasure to me. Knight, thy life is at her command. Arise and get thee quickly to Arthur's hall, and say his kitchen- knave hath sent thee. See thou cravest his pardon for breaking the laws ! Thy shield Is mine ! Farewell ! Damsel, do thou lead, and I will follow." And fast away flew Lynette, but when he had overtaken her, she turned and spoke: " Methought, knave, when I watched thee striking on the bridge, the savor of thy kitchen came upon me a little faintlier; but the wind hath changed, I scent it twenty-fold." And then she sang a mocking little song about the beauty of the Morning Star, pausing finally to say: " But thou had best take counsel and be gone. For near here is the second brother in their fool's parable, and he will pay thee all thy wages and to boot. 64 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Care not for shame, run! Thou art not knight but knave!" " Parables? " queried Gareth, laughingly. " Hear a parable of the knave. When I was kitchen-knave among the rest, fierce was the hearth, and one of my mates owned a rough dog, to whom he cast his coat, saying, ' Guard it,' and there was none dared meddle with it. And such a coat art thou, and such a dog am I, and the King hath given thee to me to guard. And if knave does thee service as full knight, then he is as good as any knight towards thy sister's freeing." " Aye, Sir Knave," replied Lynette haughtily. " But because thou strikest as a knight, being but a knave, I hate thee all the more." " Yes, fair damsel, but in that you are grievously wrong. You should worship me the more, that, being but knave, I can over- throw thine enemies." " Aye, aye," she cried tauntingly, " but thou shalt meet thy match! " When they came nigh to the second river-loop, they beheld the second warrior. Noonday Sun, astride a huge, bay horse. His shield and armor were burnished so brightly that they cast sparks in the sun, and Gareth was well-nigh blinded by their blazing splendor. "AvauntI What dost thou, brother. In my marches here?" roared the warrior. And Lynette answered shrilly: " Here is a kitchen-knave from Arthur's Hall! He hath overthrown thy brother. Morning Star, and hath his arms." Noonday Sun cried out angrily and plunged into the foaming ford, but Gareth met him half way. No room was there in the whirling waters for lance or tourney skill, and Gareth feared he would be overcome, for his horse was frightened and hard to control. But, as the warrior raised his ponderous arm for the fifth mighty stroke, his horse slipped and went down in the stream. The Noonday Sun was now at the mercy of the waters. Gareth, GARETH OF ORKNEY 65 however, was too noble to let his enemy drown, and after a hard struggle succeeded in drawing him out on the rocks. Shocked and breathless, the warrior could fight no more, and so, perforce, yielded. Gareth charged him to deliver himself to King Arthur, promising to plead for him on his return, and then bade the maiden lead on. Quietly she obeyed. " Ah, damsel," laughed Gareth, unwise in his joy, " hath not the good wind changed again? " "Nay," answered the maiden scornfully, "not a point! Nor art thou victor here. There is a ledge of slate across the ford, and the Noonday Sun's horse stumbled thereon. Yea, for I saw it." Then she began to sing: " O sun, that wakest all to bliss or pain, O moon, that layest all to sleep again, Shine sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me. "But what knowest thou of love song or of love?" she then demanded of Gareth, and without pausing for his reply went on singing: " O dewy flowers that open to the sun, O dewy flowers that close when day is done, Blow sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me. " But how mayest thou know of flowers? " she queried. " Ex- cept, perchance, to garnish meats with. Hath not our good King who lent me thee, the flower of kitchendom, a foolish love for flowers? What put you round the pasty? Wherewithal did you deck the boar's head? With flowers? Nay, the boar had rose- mary and bay." Gareth answered only with a smile, and his blue eyes laughed tenderly at her. Lynette sang on : 66 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " O birds that warble to the morning sky, O birds that warble as the day goes by, Sing sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me. "But what canst thou know of birds?" she said. " Lark» mavis, merle, or linnet? What dreamest thou when they utter their sweet, sun-worshiping May music? Thinkest thou: ' these be for the snare, these for the spit? ' But thou hast fried thy last one, except thou turn to fly, for yonder is the third stout fool awaiting thee!" Gareth turned from silent admiration of his companion and gazed in amazement in the direction which she pointed. It was but too true. Over beyond a bridge of treble bow, against the rose-red western sky, stood, seemingly all naked, the knight who named himself Evening Star. "Zounds!" cried Gareth, aghast. "Why does the madman wait naked there In the open dayshine?" "Nay," replied the maiden, "he is not naked; only wrapped in hardened skins that fit him like his own. If you cleave his armor, the skins will turn the blade of your sword ! " The Evening Star now shouted from the bridge: " O brother- star, why shine you here so low? Your ward is higher up. Have you slain the damsel's champion?" " No star of thine," cried the maiden quickly, perceiving that the knight had mistaken Gareth for his brother on account of the Morning Sun's shield which he bore, " but shot from Arthur's heaven with all disaster unto thee and thine ! Both thy younger brethren have gone down before this youth, and so wilt thou. Sir Star. Art thou not old?" " Old, princess ! " cried the knight, " both old and hard. Old with the might and breath of twenty boys." " Old and over-bold in brag! " said Gareth angrily. " But that same strength which overthrew the Noonday Sun can throw the Evening Star ! " The Evening Star now blew a fierce and deadly blast upon his GARETH OF ORKNEY 67 horn, that made Lynette shudder and cover her cars. " Approach and arm me," he cried hoarsely. And straightway from out the old russet, storm-beaten, many-stained pavilion came a grizzled dame, and armed him in old arms. His helm had only a drying evergreen for a crest, and on his shield the Star of Even blazed but dimly. The two knights rushed madly toward each other and met mid- way upon the bridge. At the first blow Gareth unseated his foe, and when he arose, met him with drawn sword and overthrew him again. But up like fire he started, and as oft as Gareth brought him groveling on his knees, so often he vaulted up again; till Gareth panted hard, and his great heart, foredooming all his trouble vain, labored within him. Presently he half despaired, and Lynette, seeing this, cried out: " Well done, brave knight! " And again, " O good knight-knave, — O knave, as noble as any of all the knights, shame me not! Shame me not! For I have prophesied! Strike! Thou art worthy of the Table Round! His arms are old; he trusts his hardened skin. Strike ! Strike ! The wind will never change again ! " Her words put new courage into Gareth's heart and gave the strength of Samson to his arm. He hewed off great pieces of the hardened armor-skin, but could no more wholly subdue his en- emy than could the loud waves, rolling ridge on ridge, submerge the springing buoy that rides at sea. At length Gareth's sword clashed with his foeman's and broke it at the hilt, and he thought to claim the victory. But the warrior, all unknightlike, sprang upon him and wrapped him in his wiry arms. Struggling, striving, pant- ing, each sought to throw the other into the stream, until at last, straining every nerve, Gareth prevailed; then, turning, said to the maiden in a smothered voice: "Lead on. I follow." " Nay," cried Lynette, holding out her hand. " I lead no longer. Ride thou at my side. Thou art the kingliest of all the kitchen- knaves ! " 68 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Off came Gareth's jeweled helm, as would a courtier's hat of plumes, and low he bowed until his lips touched the tips of her dainty fingers. Then, swiftly mounting his horse, he wheeled him into the path, while the maiden sang joyously: — ** O trefoil, sparkling on the rainy plain, O rainbow with three colors after rain, Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath smiled on me. " Sir," she then murmured, " and, good faith, I fain had added Knight, but that I heard thee call thyself a knave ! Shamed am I that I so rebuked, reviled, and mis-said thee ! Noble I am, and thought the King did but scorn me and mine. Grant now thy pardon, friend, for thou hast ever answered courteously, and wholly bold art thou, and meek withal as any of Arthur's best, but, being knave, hast mazed my wit. I marvel what thou art." " Damsel," returned Gareth gently, " you are not all to blame, saving that you mistrusted our good King. You said your say; my answer was my deed. I hold he scarce is knight, yea, but half- man, nor meet to fight for gentle damsel, who lets his heart be stirred with foolish heat at the damsel's waywardness. Shamed? Care not ! Your unkind sayings fought for me : and seeing now your words are fair, methinks there rides no knight, not even Lancelot, that has the force to quell me." So they rode in silence until nigh upon that hour when the lone heron forgets his melancholy, and twilight falls. Then the maiden turned smilingly to her companion, and told him of a cavern near at hand where the Lady of Lyonors had promised to secrete bread, baked meats, and good red wine of the Southland. Pointing the way past a narrow comb wherein were slabs of rock with sculptured figures of knights on horseback, she observed : " Sir Knave, my knight, a hermit once was here, whose holy hand hath fashioned on the rock the war of Time against the soul of man. Yon four Day fools hath sucked their allegory from these damp walls, and taken but the form. Know you not these?" GARETH OF ORKNEY ^ 69 And Gareth looked and read, in letters such as the Roman standard bearers carved upon the cliffs of the streaming river Gelt, " Phosphorus, Meridies, Hesperus, Nox, Mors," each beneath a figure of an armed man, the faces all turned forward. *' Follow the faces, and we shall find the cave," said Lynette. *' But look, who comes behind? " Gareth turned, and in so doing let the Morning Sun's shield be seen. " Stay, felon knight," cried the pursuer, " I avenge thee for my friend." With that he charged at Gareth, and before the young man had time to defend himself he lay sprawled upon the grass. It was all done so suddenly and withal so neatly that a laugh of admira- tion broke from the unfortunate victim. The sound of mirth, so inopportune, jarred upon Lynette. " Shamed and overthrown and tumbled back into a kitchen-knave, why laugh you? " she demanded harshly. " Have you but blown your boast in vain? " " Nay, noble maiden," answered Gareth penitently, " but that I, son of old King Lot and good Queen Bellicent of Orkney, victor of the bridges and the ford and knight of Arthur, should thus be thrown so easily ! Surely it Is some device of sorcery or un- happiness ! Out sword ; we are thrown ! " "Prince!" cried the strange knight joyfully, putting out his hand to stay the other. " Gareth ! It was all through the mere awkwardness of one who came to help you, not to harm ! I am Lancelot. Sent to give you aid by our good King, if it so chanced that you had need of a strong arm, and as glad to find you whole as you were to join our Order true! " " Lancelot ! " cried Gareth, in amazement. " Thou ! O ! Lancelot, thine the hand that threw me! Praise the saints! For 'tis no shame to be thrown by thee, the great Prince of Knights ! " And Lancelot laughed and cordially shook his out-stretched hand, but Lynette cried petulantly: " Lancelot, why came you not when 70 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING called? And wherefore do you come now when you are not called? I gloried In my knave, who being still rebuked, would answer as courteous still as any knight. But now, if he's a knight, the marvel dies, and leaves me fooled and tricked and only wondering why I am played upon, and whether I and mine be scorned. For where should truth be found but In Arthur's hall and in Arthur's pres- ence? Knight, knave, prince and fool, I hate thee and forever! " Gareth stood dumb under the maiden's last words, and so Lance- lot spoke: " Blessed be thou. Sir Gareth! Knight art thou to the King's best wish. O maiden, are you wise to call him shamed, who is but overthrown? Well has he striven, and he and his good horse are tired; yet I felt his manhood through all his weary lance's charge. The stream has he freed, justice wreaked on his foes, and when reviled, was answered graciously. Then, too, he makes merry when overthrown. Hall, Knight and Prince, and of our Table Round, I salute thee ! " Then he went on to explain to Gareth how the King had bade him cover his shield- and follow, how he had been delayed by being obliged to see the wounded, bellowing Sir Kay home, and how he had lost them, through their losing the trail. The maiden listened to all this moodily, and when Lancelot, half vexed, turned to her and told all the story of Gareth, she answered yet more petulantly than before : " Worse Is being fooled of others than to fool one's self! " Then she brushed her brow wearily, and In so doing must have cleared her face of frowns, for she turned smilingly to Lancelot and said In a different voice: "There Is a cave somewhere near with meats and drinks, forage for the horses, and flint for fire, but all about it flies the honeysuckle. Help us to find It!" When they had sought the cave and found the comforts hidden there, Sir Gareth sank Into a heavy sleep, but yet he turned and tossed and seemed uncomfortable. So the maiden took his head into her lap, softly and carefully, so as not to waken him, and she brooded tenderly over him. As she sat thus, she mused GARETH OF ORKNEY 71 silently: " Sound sleep be thine! Sound cause to sleep hast thou. Wake lusty! Seem I not as tender to him as any mother? Aye, but such a one as has all day long rated her child and vexed his day, but blesses him asleep. . . . How sweetly smells the honeysuckle in the hushed night, as if the world were one of utter peace, and love, and gentleness! . . . O Lancelot, Lancelot! full merry am I to find that my goodly knave is a noble knight ! But see I have sworn to the castle guard to bring you to fight with him! Now, if you go up with us, then will the rebel knight attack you, and my knight-knave will miss the full flower of his accomplishment." Lancelot came over to her, smiling kindly, and he noted the white hand unconsciously smoothing Gareth's hair. " We must leave it to him, for the quest is his," said he. " And, peradventure, he you name may know my shield. I'll tell you, damsel ! Let Gareth, if he will, change his shield for mine, and take my horse, for he is fresh and needs not to be spurred, loving the battle as well as he who rides him." " Spoken like Lancelot! " agreed the maiden cordially. So they talked and planned until at last Gareth showed signs of waking, and Lynette put him quietly away and slipped blushingly out, leaving to Lancelot the task of persuading Gareth. What- ever he said we know not, but we are afraid the good knight told tales out of school; for when the maiden returned there was a new light in Gareth's eyes, and a joy in his heart that showed in his voice. He was impatient to gain victory. " Come, let us go," he cried. Silently the three traversed the silent field. A smile lay on Gareth's lips and his dreams were passing fair. But only two remarks did he make which would show the tenor of his thoughts to his companions: — Once, a star shot downward, and he cried: " Lo ! the foe falls ! " Again, an owl whooped in the forest, and he exclaimed, " Hark, the victor pealing there ! " Suddenly she who rode at his left grasped the shield which Lance- 72 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING lot had lent him, pleading eagerly: " Yield, yield him this again. 'Tis he must fight! I curse the tongue that all through yesterday reviled thee, and hath wrought on Lancelot now to lend thee horse and shield! Wonders thou hast done; miracles thou canst not. Here is glory enough in having flung the three. I see thee maimed and mangled ! Do not fight, I pray thee ! I swear thou canst not fling the fourth ! " " But wherefore, damsel? " queried Gareth laughingly, albeit his blue eyes dwelt tenderly upon her. " Tell me all you know. You cannot frighten me. No rough face or voice, brute bulk of limb, or boundless savagery will turn me from the quest." " Nay, Prince," she answered. " I never looked upon his face, seeing he never rides abroad by day; but I have watched him pass like a phantom, chilling the night. Neither have I heard his voice. Always he made a mouthpiece of his page who came and went, and still reported him as closing in himself the strength of ten, and when very angry massacring man, woman, lad, and girl — yea, the soft babe 1 Some hold that he hath swallowed infant flesh ! Monster! O Prince, I went for Lancelot first! The quest is Lancelot's; give him back the shield." " Yea, my lady Lynette," laughed Gareth. *' If he will joust for it and win it as the better man ! " Then Lancelot, seeing Gareth's heart was set upon finishing the quest, contented himself by offering all manner of advice on the devisings of chivalry; how best to manage horse, lance, sword and shield, and so fill up with skill the gap where force might fail. But his words went in one ear and out the other; Gareth could not fix his attention upon the friendly counsel, and at last cried out in protest: " Alas, Sir Lancelot, here be rules, but I can master only one — to dash against mine enemy and to win. Full many a time have I watched thee victor in the joust and seen thy way, but I am not skilled like thee." " Then Heaven help thee," sighed Lynette, greatly troubled. A dark cloud now rose up and shrouded all the stars in gloom. GARETH OF ORKNEY -ji, Gaily the three essayed to talk, striving thus to cheer each other, but ever the black pall seemed to sink lower and wrap them in silence. At last the maiden pressed her white palfrey close to Gareth's horse, clasped his arm, and pointing unsteadily ahead, whispered, " There! " They had reached the goal at last. Only a short distance away stood the Castle Perilous, and right beside it was a huge, black pavilion with a trailing, black banner. Before Lancelot and Lynette had time to think, Gareth seized the long, black horn which hung conveniently near on the wall, and blew a hideous blast that went shivering through the night and echoing in all the castle walls. Lights soon twinkled here and there throughout the castle, and when Gareth, impatient, blew another blast, muffled voices could be heard and hollow tramplings up and down. Then far above them a win- dow burst into glowing bloom and from out the radiance leaned a beautiful woman. " Lyonors ! " exclaimed Lynette eagerly. " Have courage ! Here is a knight come to deliver thee ! " It is doubtful if the woman above heard the cheering message, but she undoubtedly guessed its import. Radiant smiles lighted up her face and she extended her hands in eager welcome. " God grant you save her," cried Lynette to Gareth. His answer was another lusty blast which raised the echoes far and near. Then the great black doors of the huge pavilion slowly folded back, and there came riding out a hideous thing with the white breast-bone, barren ribs, and grinning skull of Death. A monster thing it was, mounted on a coal black horse, with night black arms, and slowly it came out into the dim dawn, then paused and spoke no word. " Fool," cried Gareth angrily, " men say thou hast the strength of ten. Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God hath given thee, but must trick thyself out in ghastly imageries of that which Life hath done with, and the dull clod hides with manthng flowers for pity?" 74 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING But the thing spoke no word hi reply, and all about there seemed to be gathering a swift, boundless current of horror. The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands and wept despairingly; a handmaiden be- hind her swooned; Sir Gareth's skin prickled with fear; and even the bold Sir Lancelot felt all through his warm blood a chill like that of ice. All at once the fearless steed which Gareth rode neighed fiercely, and Death's dark war-horse bounded forward. Then those that did not blink with terror, saw to their amazement that Death was cast to the ground, but slowly rose again. With two power- ful blows Gareth split open the impostor's armor and then — most wonderful to relate — out sprang a beautiful, blooming boy, fresh as a new-born flower. "O knight, slay me not!" he pleaded. "My three brothers bade me do it to make a horror all about, and stay the world from Lady Lyonors. They never dreamed the passes could be crossed." Most graciously Gareth answered, for his heart was thrilled with wild joy: " My fair child, what madness made thee challenge the chief knight of Arthur's hall? " " Fair Sir, they made me do it. They hate the King and Lance- lot, the King's friend. They hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream. They never thought harm would come near me. They did not dream the stream could be opened." Lady Lyonors now appeared at the open house door, with hearty thanks, and a cordial welcome for her deliverer and the dear sister who had periled her life to bring him. Everything in the castle was placed at their disposal, and all the household waxed merry with dance, revel, and song over their deliverance from the grim enemy, Death. And in the heart of Gareth joy was crowned, for he had won the quest and proven to his beloved King how well he could strike for Christ and the right. Those who told the story in the old times say that Gareth wedded Lady Lyonors, but those who told it later say it was Lynette. And to our minds the latter tale seems truer. CHAPTER VII THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID ON a certain Whitsuntide King Arthur held a great Feast of the Pentecost at Caerleon upon Usk. In the midst of the rejoicings a forester of Dean, wet from the woods, came with the tidings that he had seen a beautiful milky-white hart In the forest near the banks of the Severn. Now King Arthur dearly loved the chase, so he immediately ordered the horns to be blown announcing a big hunt on the morrow. The Queen was also much interested In the chase, so she eagerly petitioned and obtained leave to see the hunt. Unfortunately she slept late the next morning, and when she awoke all the eager hunters had gone. But the Queen was not to be disappointed, and set out as soon as she could make ready, with only a single maiden for a companion, intending, since she was so late, to view the scene from a certain high knoll In the woodland. As they waited, all ears listening for the hounds, there was heard a sound of gallop- ing hoofs, and presently Prince Geraint, a knight of Arthur from the neighborhood of Devon, appeared. *' Ah, Prince," cried Queen Guinevere graciously, " thou art late, late! Later than we, If Indeed," glancing doubtfully at his silken holiday attire, " thou hast Intended to take part In the hunt at all?" *' Yes, noble Queen," replied the Prince, with low-bowed courtesy, " so late am I that I have left arms and hunting garb at home, and come like you only to see the hunt and not to share it." " Then wait with me," Invited the Queen pleasantly, " for on this knoll. If anywhere, we shall see the hounds. Often they break covert here at our feet." While they stood breathlessly listening for the on-coming bay- 75 76 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING ing of Cavall, the King's noblest hound, there rode past them an armed knight, with a lady and a dwarf. And the Queen, desiring to know the stranger knight's name, sent her maiden to Inquire of the dwarf what It might be. But the dwarf answered sharply that he would not tell, neither would he allow her to ask his master, saying that she was not worthy even to speak of him, and he lashed at her with his whip. So the maiden returned Indignantly to the Queen, and Geraint loyally made after the dwarf and questioned him, but with no better success — Indeed, the Impudent fellow struck the knight across the face with his whip so severely that th6 blood started. Quickly the Prince gripped his gold-mounted sword, minded to destroy him, but not liking to pass arms with such a worm, he restrained himself and turned loyally to his Queen, saying: — " Most noble Queen, mightily will I avenge this insult which has been put upon you through your maiden ! I shall follow yon churlish dwarf and compel his master to come to you humbly and crave pardon. Though I ride only with my faithful sword, no doubt I can find armor along the way somewhere, for loan or for pledge, and, in three days, if I be not slain, I will come again. Farewell ! " "Farewell!" returned the Queen. "Be prosperous in this journey, fair Prince, as In all; and may you light on all things that you love, and live to wed with her whom first you love. But ere you wed with any, bring your bride — yea, though she be the daugh- ter of a king or a beggar from the hedge — and I will clothe her for her bridals like the sun." Half vexed at losing sight of the hunt, but more out of humor at the cause. Prince Geraint followed the three over field and dale, till they came at last to a little town hidden in the valley, on one side whereof was a newly-built fortress, and on the other an ancient castle, half in ruin. The three rode up to the fortress, entered therein, and were lost behind Its walls; but Geraint felt that he had tracked them to their lair, and so rode on wearily into town, seek- ing shelter for the night. But it seemed too busy a place for THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID jj strangers, and every one he spoke to was so full of bustle that he scarce took time to look at him and muttered something about " The Sparrow-hawk." Grown thoroughly Incensed at last, the Prince paused before an armorer's shop, where a man sat bowed above his work, riveting a helmet on his knee. Without turning around, he answered the Prince's question thus: " Friend, he that labors for the Sparrow- hawk has little time for idle questioners." This was the last straw, and all the Prince's anger was inflamed: " A thousand pips eat up your Sparrow-hawk! " he cried. " Tits, wrens, and all winged nothings pack him dead! Ye think the rustic cackle of your burg the murmur of the world! What is it to me? O wretched set of sparrows, one and all, who pipe of nothing but of sparrow-hawks ! Speak, if ye be not like the rest, hawk-mad. Where can I get shelter for the night? And arms, arms, arms to fight my enemy? Speak! " On the instant the armorer had turned amazed, and seeing one clad so gaily in purple silks, started up, helmet in hand, bowing low, and waiting for a chance to speak, which he did eagerly, as soon as the Prince paused. ''Pardon me, O stranger knight!" said he, " We hold a tourney here to-morrow morning, and there is scarcely time for all the work in hand. Arms? Truth, I know not; all are wanted here. Shelter? The town is full, but per- haps Earl Yniol, at the castle yonder beyond the bridge, would take you in." So Geraint turned shortly, a little spleenful still, and rode on- ward to the castle where a courteous, hoary-headed Earl, in a suit of frayed magnificence, listened kindly to his queries, and replied cordially: " Enter then, and partake of the slender entertainment of a house once rich, now poor, but ever open-doored." " Thanks, venerable friend," said Geraint laughingly. " So you do not serve me sparrow-hawk for supper, I will enter and eat with all the passion of a twelve hour fast." The old Earl sighed, then smiled, and answered, " Graver cause 78 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING than yours is mine to curse this hedgerow thief, this Sparrow-hawk! But enter in; for, save you yourself desire it, we will not touch upon him even in jest." So Geraint rode into the courtyard, and looking about him saw that all was in ruins. The prickly thistle sprouted in the broken stones; here was a shattered archway plumed with fern; there was fallen a great part of a tower, and like a crag tumbled from a cliff was gay with wild flowers, while high above a piece of turret stair, worn by feet now silent, lay bare in the sun; and all about rose craggy gray walls half covered wtih luxuriant, ambitious ivy that sought in vain to spread an air of life and prosperity over all. And, as Geraint stood waiting, he heard the voice of a maiden singing in her bower; and so sweet was the voice that his heart was moved within him, and he said to himself: " Here, by the Grace of God, is the one voice for me ! " The song was that of Fortune and her wheel, and the maiden sang it with spirit, as though bidding defiance to the ups and downs of destiny : — " Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud ; Turn thy wild wheel thro' sunshine, storm, and cloud ; Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate. " Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown ; With that wild wheel we go not up or down ; Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great. " Smile and we smile, the Iprds of many lands ; Frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands; For man is man and master of his fate. " Turn, turn thy wheel above the staring crowd ; Thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud ; Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate." The song ceased, and the singer, a beautiful maiden, fair as a vermeil-white blossom, and clad in faded silk, came down. The THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 79 Earl presented her as his daughter, the Lady Enid, and again Geraint thought: " Here is the one maiden in the world for me." *' Enid," spoke the old Earl, " the good knight's horse stands in the court; take him to stall, and give him corn, and then go to the town and buy us flesh and wine ; and we will make us merry as we may. Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great." The maiden came forward willingly, but Geraint could not bear to have one so daintily beautiful wait upon him as a servant might, and eagerly expressed his willingness to care for his own horse. Yniol, however, caught his purple scarf and held him back, say- ing: "Forbear! Rest! The good house, though ruined, my son, endures not that her guest should serve himself." And so Geraint was obliged by courtesy to yield to the Earl, but his eyes followed the maiden and he marked her proud, quick- stepped entrance into the town and her coming forth, and always he admired her yet the more. Now the hall where they sat was per- force kitchen and dining-room as well, so he wonderingly watched the maiden as she moved quickly about preparing and serving the meal with wondrous grace and sweet simplicity. As she stood be- hind the board and waited upon her father, mother, and himself, he felt within him a great longing to kiss the dainty hands that served him. And afterward as she busied herself now here, now there, about the hall at her lowly handmaid work, his eyes fol- lowed her, and he would fain have offered help, yet dared not. At last he forced himself to turn aside and address the Earl. " Fair host and Earl, I pray your courtesy. This Sparrow-hawk, what is he? Tell me of him. But stay, tell me not his name! For if he be that knight whom I saw ride into the new fortress beyond your town this evening, I have sworn to force it from him !. I am Geraint of Devon, a knight of Arthur, and this morning I heard the strange knight's dwarf offer insult to the Queen, through her maid In waiting, by refusing to tell the name of his lord at the Queen's request. You see I had ridden out but to see the hunt and could not fight him then, as I had left my armor at home. 8o THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Therefore, I followed him, hoping to find arms wherewith to break his pride and humble him before the Queen." "Ah!" cried the old Earl, with kindling eyes, "art thou in- deed Geraint, he whose name Is far-sounded among men for his noble deeds? Well might I have known when first I beheld your stately presence that you were one who was wont to sit at meat in Arthur's hall at Camelot! My house Is honored, and happy am 1 to have you beneath my crumbling roof to-night ! Full often have we heard praises of your feats of arms, and this dear child will bear me witness that many a time have we discussed your noble deeds." The Earl paused to draw the fair Enid, who had just come to his side, affectionately down upon the wide arm of his chair, and then continued, while Geraint envied him his privileges: '^' As to this Sparrow-hawk whereof you speak, he Is my nephew and sometime suitor for this fair hand," lifting Enid's hand caressingly to his lips. " But I knew his fierce, turbulent spirit, and refused him, and since — my curses be upon him ! — he has contrived by foul means to lay low the house of Yniol. With false tales he raised my own town against me In the night, sacked my house, ousted me from my earldom, and built that fortress beyond the bridge to overawe my friends, for truly there are those who love me yet. He keeps me isolated in this ruined castle, and why he does not kill me I know not, unless it be that he despises me too much; and I — I sometimes despise myself, for I have sub- mitted all too gently and failed to use my power, but in my old age I am some way very wise or very foolish, for I can not bear to fight, ^nd so I submit patiently to my wrongs." " Let me fight for you, friend! " cried Geraint, filled with sudden pity for the trembling old man. " My limbs are young and strong, and I am sworn to right wrong wherever found ! Tell me where I may get arms, and at to-morrow's tourney I will lay the Sparrow- hawk low in the dust. Right humbly shall he apologize to our most gracious Queen, and every farthing of thine Inheritance shall he restore to thee, else will I have his heart's blood! " THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 8i "Spoken like a true knight of Arthur!" exclaimed the Earl. *' Aye, son, and I could furnish you with arms. Old and rusted, 'tis true, but still fit to serve you in good stead; but if I did so, you could not fight the Sparrow-hawk at the tourney; for his rules are that no man shall tilt except the lady he loves best be there. The thing is managed in this wise : two forks are fixed into the meadow ground, and over these is placed a silver wand, tipped with a golden sparrow-hawk. This is the prize of beauty, and 'tis given to the winning knight for the pleasure of his lady love. The Sparrow- hawk hath always won it for the lady with him, and so hath justly earned his name. Perforce thou seest why thou canst not tilt with him at the tourneys, but possibly thou wilt take the day follow- ing?" " No," cried Geraint quickly, leaning eagerly toward the old man. " Thy favoring kindness. Earl Yniol ! Let me lay lance for thy dear child, thine own fair Enid! Truly I have seen all the beauties of our time, but never yet hath mine eyes dwelt on one so sweetly fair and pure as she! If she be not unwilling, give her to me for my beloved wife, as a reward for overcoming the Sparrow- hawk — I care not for the golden bauble — and I swear to you to love and reverence her forevermore ! " " Ah ! " replied the old man, looking at him with kindly, favor- ing eyes, " 'tis an alliance most to be desired, but I know not what the maid will say! " (Enid had left the room when first they be- gan to discuss the tourney). " I must prove her heart, for never would I rise by the sacrifice of my child. Mother," turning to the old dame who now came into the room, " this knight, Prince Geraint of Devon, wishes to tilt with the Sparrow-hawk and force him to give us restitution, desiring the hand of Enid as a reward. A maiden is a tender thing, best understood by her who bore her. Go thou and inquire of Enid concerning this." And so the old dame hurried to Enid's room, where she found her half disrobed for the night. Kissing her upon both cheeks, she laid her hands upon her fair, shining shoulders and held her away 82 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING that she might look into her face, while she told her of Prince Geraint's desire. Red and white was Enid's fair face, and filled with amazement, as she listened to the tidings, so sudden, so un- expected that they took her breath away, and she could speak no word, nor could she rest that night. In the morning she roused her mother and together they went down into the tourney field, where they waited for her father and Geraint. And the young knight, as he came to her side, felt that beating in his heart, 'neath her father's old rusty armor, which proclaimed that, were Enid the prize of bodily force, he could win against any odds. Soon the knights and the ladies came, and the town and country people, and they filled all the space about the lists. Then the Sparrow-hawk blew loud upon his trumpet, and bowing low be- fore the lady at his side, said gallantly: " Advance, and take the golden prize as fairest of the fair; for I these two years past have won it for thee, most worthy lady of the prize of beauty." " Stay! " called Prince Geraint in a loud voice. " There is one more worthy here ! " " How now ! " cried the Sparrow-hawk in surprise and wrath, and turning beheld the old Earl, his uncle, and his wife and Enid, with the handsome, challenging knight beside her. " Do battle for it then ! " he stammered, choked with passion at the sight, and rushed toward Geraint. " The Lord bless thee and keep thee, my knight," murmured Enid so kindly and sweetly as Geraint bent over her hand in brief farewell, that, unmindful of the vast throng, he stooped and kissed her tenderly upon the forehead ere he rushed headlong to meet the on-coming Sparrow-hawk. Then the strife began, and never was so great a fight seen there- abouts before. Thrice they charged, and each time broke their lances. Quickly they dismounted and made at one another with their swords. So furious were their strokes that at each one the bystanders thought to see the battle ended. Twice they rested, and then came on again, and many a wound did either give and re- THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 83 celve, but neither had the mastery, till at last Earl Yniol cried lustily: " Remember the great insult done to the Queen." Then Geraint gathered all his force into one last blow, and so mighty was the stroke that it smote through the helmet and bit the bone and felled the Sparrow-hawk to the ground. " Tell me thy name! " commanded the Prince sternly, setting his foot upon the fallen man's breast. " Edyrn, son of Nudd!" moaned the Sparrow-hawk. "Woe Is me ! Ashamed am I to tell It to thee. My pride is broken : men have seen my fall." " Then, Edyrn, son of Nudd," replied Geraint, " these two things shalt thou do, or else thou diest : first, with thy lady and thy dwarf In company, thou shalt ride to Arthur's court and crave lowly pardon of the Queen for the Insult offered In the grove by the Severn; next thou shalt restore to the uttermost farthing all that thou hast taken of the Earl, thine uncle. These two things shalt thou do, or thou shalt die." " Stay thy hand. Prince," answered Edyrn sadly. " These things will I do willingly. For now that thou hast broken my pride, and the fair Enid has seen my fall and rejoices, I repent. It Is meet that I do works worthy of repentance." The young knight rose humbly and journeyed to Queen Guinevere where he begged pardon on his bended knees for his traitorous life. So kindly did the beautiful Queen receive him, and so earnestly did she beseech him to turn to the right, that he swore to fight for the King and the Christ throughout all his life, and ever after kept the vow unsullied. But Geraint returned with Yniol to the castle, and that night pleaded with Enid that she go with him to wed at the Court of Arthur on the morrow that being the day he had promised the Queen he would return. Enid blushingly consented, though she would fain have postponed the date that she might replenish her faded wardrobe and so do honor to her lord, yet she dared not mention it for fear of grieving him. 84 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " He seems so bent on going," she mused, as she sought the privacy of her chamber, " that it were little grace for me to ask a second favor of him, so much are we now beholden! But sweet Heaven ! How much I shall discredit him, so noble are his acts and so splendid his attire ! Did he but see fit to tarry yet a day or two, I would work eye dim and finger lame to prepare fitting raiment. O, woe is me! to appear before the great Queen in faded apparel, unfit even for a kitchen-maid! " And so thinking, the maiden fell longing for a certain beau- tiful dress, all branched and flowered with gold, that her mother had given her on her birthday eve, the night Sir Edyrn sacked their house and scattered all to the four winds. " Oh," she mourned, *' did I but know where it had been hid, then I might appear before the Queen in fitting raiment ! " While she sat fearing more and more the thought of going so ill-clad before the Queen and all the splendor of the Court, her mother came to her bringing a package which she said had just been brought by a villager and contained a sweet surprise. And lo! when Enid had unbound it, there rolled out the very gown for which she had been wishing. " Aye," cried the mother, glad in her daughter's tearful joy, *' don it in the morning, child. Now the beautiful Queen can not say ' the Prince hath plucked a ragged robin from the hedge ! ' For though I heard him call you fairest of the fair, think not, girl, that you will not be the fairer to him In new dress than in old." But in the morning when Geraint rose early and made himself ready for the journey, calling eagerly for his bride-to-be, and Ynlol told him she would be down ere long, that her mother was proudly decking her in apparel fit even for the Court of Arthur, Geraint became perplexed and troubled, and at last begged the Earl eagerly, saying: " Sir, entreat her by my love, albeit I give no reason but my wish, that she ride with me in her faded silk." Imagine the consternation this message created in the chamber where the old dame stood admiring her beautiful daughter and THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 85 likening her unto a fair bride who was created out of flowers ! But Enid, all abashed, although she knew not why, tremblingly obeyed the request and laid aside the rich robe, not daring to look at her silent mother, and so came down in silence in her faded, clinging silk. And Geraint, when he marked her sweet submission, loved her yet th^ more, but, seeing her mother's brow still clouded with dis- appointment, made haste to her, saying: " Good mother, take it not ill that I have asked this thing. Two reasons there are — one, that our Queen Guinevere, when I left three days since, prom- ised me that if I would bring my bride to her, whensoever I found her, she would clothe her like the sun. And I am minded to ac- cept this sweet service, for the two bound together so graciously may learn to love each other — and where could Enid find a nobler friend? Next, I desired to make proof of her love, for if she could at a word from me put aside a thing so dear to all women, then might I be sure that her heart was wholly mine. A prophet certain of my prophecy, now am I assured that never shadow of distrust shall come between us ! Some day will I make amends for my hard petition." Then the two journeyed away to Caerleon, and from the top- most tower, where she sat on the watch, Queen Guinevere saw them coming up the vale of Usk and hastened down and out to greet them. Right royally did she welcome them and shortly had Enid arrayed in magnificent bridal splendor. Then the two were wedded by the priestly Dubric, and all that week high festival was held at Court. And for many moons Geraint and Enid dwelt at Caerleon- on-Usk, and the Queen and Enid became great friends, and Geraint rejoiced greatly at their friendship, for it pleased his pride to see his wife the favorite of the noblest lady in the land. Now Geraint loved his wife better than life itself, and it was his pleasure to array her in splendid gowns and dazzling jewels and to delight in her exceeding great beauty. And Enid, though not caring greatly for such things, was yet glad to make herself pleas- 86 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING ing In her husband's eyes, for he was all the world to her. Dally she appeared before Geraint In some new splendor, and often the lUy-whlte hands of Queen Guinevere helped In the adorning, nor ever did she give an envious thought to the fact that her favorite lady-In-waltlng's beauty might outshine her own. But the Queen and Lady Enid could never be rivals, for they were the exact oppo- site In their beauty: fair as an Easter lily was Guinevere, and her golden hair, woven Into rich, shining colls, made for her a crown lovelier than any turned by the hands of man; while Enid's tropical beauty glowed like the red, southern rose; and dark as midnight were the tresses that framed her brow in wavy tendrils. Finally a little cloud arose that threatened for a time to dim the brightness of Geraint's new joy. There floated slowly through the Court an evil rumor concerning the Queen, saying that the King no longer had her heart, and. Indeed, that he had never possessed it, but that It was given to Lancelot; and that Lancelot, the King's most trusted knight and closest friend, returned her love, and was thereby false to the King and to his solemn vows of knighthood. Of course Arthur knew nothing of this; neither was any one else certain, but there was much talk. And the matter troubled Geraint greatly. His dear wife, Enid, was so closely bound to the Queen by friendship that he feared she might in some degree be touched by the breath of scandal, and the thought was torture to him. At last he went to the King and begged permission to withdraw from the Court for a time to his own princedom in Devon, saying that robbers and marauders were molesting his estate and that his pres- ence was needed to quell them. King Arthur, all unsuspicious of the true reason, although wondering greatly, consented and Geraint and Enid rode away, with fifty knights to accompany them. " And now," thought Geraint contentedly, " if ever wife were true to her lord, mine shall be to me; for in this quiet home of ours, far away from the poisonous influences of the Court, nothing can come between us." For a time all went well, but Geraint's mind had dwelt so THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 87 long on his foolish fears that he could not think clearly, and the one thought — how to keep his wife's love — ■ dwelt with him to the exclusion of all others. He became so absorbed in pleasing her that he scarce left her for a moment, and took no heed whatever of ruling his province, of hunting or of joining in the tourney, and no delight in the society of his peers, thereby bringing shame and ridicule upon himself and upon Enid, who was blamed for his care- less sloth. And the matter grieved Enid sorely, for her lord's name was very dear to her; and she longed to tell him what peo- ple were saying, and to ask if it were her fault that he no longer cared for knightly deeds, but shame and the fear of grieving him tied her tongue. Finally, there came a morning when Enid awoke before her hus- band, and, leaving her place at his side, drew up a chair and sat beside him marveling at his strength and beauty, for his arms and chest were bare in the bright warm sunshine which beat in upon him. " O noble breast and mighty arms," she murmured, " am I the cause that all your glory and your fame is gone, and that men reproach you, saying your manliness is no more ? 'Tis true, Geraint, I am, because I dare not tell what people say. And yet, rather than have things as they are, how gladly would I gird thy harness on thee and ride by thy side to battle, and even see thee wounded — aye, wounded perhaps to death! Now, here have I the courage for this great sacrifice, and yet am not brave enough to speak the truth as a true wife should! Ah me! I fear I am no true wife." As she spoke, her tears fell fast upon his face and breast, and he awoke, hearing by great misfortune only her last words — that she feared she was not a true wufe. " Just Heaven! " he thought, " in spite of all my care, and for all my pains, she is not faithful to me, and I see her weeping for some gay knight in Arthur's hall ! " The thought goaded him so fiercely that, without a single in- quiring word, which might have set all clea-r between them, he sprang quickly to the floor and called gruffly to his squire : " Make 88 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING ready my horse and arms and thy lady's palfrey; I will ride into the wilderness." Then, turning to Enid, he said in a voice he never had used to her before : " It seems that my spurs are yet to win ! I have not fallen so low as some would wish. Do thou put on thy worst and meanest dress and ride with me." Enid was frightened and amazed, not knowing why he was angry, and faltered tearfully. " If I have done wrong, let me at least know my fault." " Question me not," replied Geraint harshly, " but do my bid- ding." So Enid turned away sorrowfully, and as she did so she be- thought her of the old and faded silk in wlhich Geraint had first seen and loved her. Eagerly she brought out the cherished robe and donned it hopefully, saying to herself: " Surely when my lord sees this dress, his heart will soften, and he will tell me what grieves him and take me into his love again." But, poor girl, Geraint had no eyes for gowns that morning. Perhaps he dared not look at her for fear the tempest in his heart would burst in thunder round her head. " Ride thou a good way on before," he commanded briefly, with his eyes fixed upon his saddle girths. " And I charge thee, on thy duty as a wife, what- ever happens, do not speak to me — no, not a word ! " And Enid more frightened than before, silently obeyed, but scarcely three paces had they passed when Geraint cried out spleen- fully. " Effeminate as I am, I will not fight my way with gilded arms; all shall be iron," and straightway foolishly threw his heavy purse toward his squire. So the last view Enid had of her home was the marble threshold all shining with gold and scattered coin; and the insulted squire chaflfing his shoulder where the purse had struck. " To the wilds! " cried Geraint, pointing the way to the marsh lands, where bandits and savage beasts were most apt to abound. And they fared forth, each busy with his own thoughts, and it was hard to say which carried the heavier heart. A stranger meeting THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 89 them would have said at once, from their pale faces and disturbed mien, that each had suffered some exceeding wrong. Ever Enid cast about in her heart to divine her fault, and anon murmured prayers for the safety of her lord. And Geraint cursed his stupidity for wasting so much time In attending his wife, dressing her beautifully and striving to keep her true, groaning over the thoughts that would arise ! Toward noon Enid became aware of three armed knights lying in wait for them in the shadow of a rock, and she heard them say, " Look ! Here comes a laggard knight who seems no bolder than a beaten hound. See how his head hangs down ! Let us set upon him and slay him and his horse and armor and damsel shall be ours." Then Enid pondered In her heart, saying: " I will go back and warn my lord of these caitiffs, lest they slay him, for he sees them not. If he is angry with me and kills me, far better had I die by his dear hand than that he should suffer shame." Geraint received her in foolish wrath: " Did I wish your warn- ing or your silence? Have you forgotten my command? Well, then, look — for whether you wish me victory or defeat; long for my life, or hunger for my death — ^you shall see my vigor Is not lost." Tears filled Enid's eyes, for she was all unused to unkind words; and she covered her face despairingly, fearing that her husband would be overthrown. But anger made Geraint all-powerful. With a savage cry as though glad to have something on which to vent his spleen, he rushed upon the bandits, and with one powerful stroke drove his spear through the first of them a cubit's length. The other two now charged upon him, but their lances splintered upon his heavy armor like straws, and In two strokes he slew them both. Then he took off their armor and bound It upon their horses, and bade Enid drive the animals on before her. She obeyed with- out a word, and as Geraint followed her, somewhat nearer than before, his heart smote him for his cruelty, and would fain have had 90 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING him take pity upon her and help her in her hard unlearned task. But he stolidly refused and nursed his wrath in silence. Scarcely had they gone a mile when Enid became aware of three other mounted bandits at the edge of a wood, and one of them seemed heavier than Geraint, and filled her heart with fear by his boastings: " See, here cometh a prize — three horses armor-laden and driven by a single fair damsel. A good knight following? Aye, but a cowardly dog, else would he not put so much upon a maiden ! Come, let us fall upon him and take his damsel and his goods." " Alas," murmured Enid to herself, " I must disobey my husband again ! He is not on his guard, and full weary with his former fight. Yea, though it displeases him, I must speak, for his life is dearer to me than my own." So she waited for him to come up and faced him timidly, saying: *' Have I leave to speak? " Then told him all. Geraint listened impatiently as before, then turned upon her roughly: " If there were a hundred in the wood, and every man were larger limbed than I, and all at once should sally out upon me, I swear it would not ruffle me so much as you who do not obey me I Stand aside, and if I fall, cleave to the better man." And Enid turned away to wait the event, not daring to watch, and scarcely feeling within herself strength to breathe in prayer. Then he she dreaded most, bore fiercely down upon her lord. But his lance missed, and Geraint's own spear drove straight through his shield and corselet, and there broke short, felling the huge robber from off his horse. His companions came on slowly, their leader's death filling all their veins with fear. Geraint, seeing this, bellowed forth a fearful battle cry, and the knaves turned and fled. But he would not suffer them to escape, and so set upon and slew them. Then, binding their armor to the horses, as before, saving the lance which pleased him most, he bade Enid to add them to her charge. Once more the odd procession started, and Geraint followed THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 91 nearer than before, half-fascinated, despite his anger, by the skill with which his wife managed her wayward horses, six of them with their jingling arms. Indeed, after a time, he fancied that the bandit horses pricked their light ears and strove to do their best to help the good friend who directed them with firm voice and kind government, and his heart again reproached him. So that when they came to the end of the wood and found some mowers at work in the field, and a lad bearing victuals to them, he took compassion on her paleness, and stopped the boy, saying: " My son, let the damsel eat, she is so faint." " Yea, willingly," replied the lad, " and do thou, my lord, eat also, for though the food is coarse 'twill give thee strength." So Geraint and Enid dismounted, sitting down in the fragrant hay, while their horses grazed at will near by, and they partook of the humble fare, or rather Geraint did, for Enid was too sore at heart to eat and she only pretended to do so, fearing to rouse her lord's ire by refusal. At last Geraint, reaching into the basket for more, found to his dismay that he had eaten all. " Boy," he cried, " my appetite hath outrun my manners ! I have emptied the basket. But I will reward thee fairly, for never before did food taste so good. Choose thou a horse and arms from the captive six, and take the best." " My lord," exclaimed the boy, reddening with delight, " you overpay me fifty-fold! " " You will be all the wealthier then," answered Prince Geraint merrily. " I take It as a free gift, then, not as a reward; for while your damsel rests I can easily go to the Court and get more food, and, while there, I will tell the Earl about you. He loves to know when men of rank are in his territory, and will fetch you to his palace and serve you with food more fit than mower's fare." " No, indeed," said Geraint quickly. " I ask for no better food than that which I have just eaten. And into the Earl's palace I will not go ! I know, God knows, too much now of palaces ! Get 92 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING thee to the Inn and secure us harborage for the night. Then, If thy Earl desires to speak with me, let him seek me there." So the lad went away happily, leading his chosen horse, with his head held high as though he fancied himself a knight, and Geraint and Enid stayed In the field; nor spoke to one another, he drowsing In the heat and albeit half-musing of his prophecy on their marriage morn that naught could ever come between them, and she thinking of their strange adventure and longing wistfully for her lord to take her into his arms again. Finally the messenger returned, and they moved to the house he told them of, and remained till evening time, apart by all the chamber's width and silent as two moody, drooping mutes. Then came a loud discordant voice without, and their door drove suddenly backward against the wall and the Earl and a party of rioting friends bolted into their presence. Startled and withal ashamed, Enid was dismayed to recognize in the wild lord of the place the Earl Limours, a former much-scorned suitor, but she gave no sign. So Geraint welcomed him cordially, and called for wine and goodly cheer to feast the sudden guests. When the drinking and feasting was at Its height. Earl Limours, made bold by the wine which coursed madly through his veins, turned to Geraint and asked permission to cross the room and speak with his good damsel, who seemed so pale and lonely. " Aye, take my free leave," replied the Prince shortly. " Get her to speak; she doth not speak to me." And Limours, looking at his feet, arose and crossed to Enid's side, where he bowed low and whispered admiringly, " Enid, the pilot star of my lone life; Enid, my early and my only love; Enid, the loss of whom hath turned me wild — what chance is this? How Is It I see you here, and in my power? But stay, girl, fear me not; for In my heart, despite my wlldness, is a touch of sweet civility. Methought that In the old days you would have favored me, but for your father. Was it so? Tell me now; make me a little happier. Do you not owe me something for THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 93 a life half lost? Yea, the whole dear debt of all you arel And, Enid, I see with joy that you and he sit apart and do not speak; you come with no page or maid to serve you — doth he love you as of old? Nay, call It not a lover's quarrel! I know men may bicker with things they love, but they do not make them laughable In the eyes of all. Your wretched dress is an insult to your per- son, and 'tis plain your beauty is no beauty to him now. Think not you will win him back. I know men, and a man's love once gone never returns. But here Is one who loves you as of old, the one true lover whom you ever owned; speak but a word, and he shall cross our path no more ! See, he sits surrounded by my followers! If I but hold up my finger they will understand. Zounds! Enid, do not look so frightened!. I mean not blood;, my malice is no deeper than a moat, or stronger than a wall! " He paused for very breath, and Enid shrank timidly from the Impassioned gaze of his wine-heated eyes. She longed to fly to Geraint for shelter, yet dared not In his present mood, and so was forced to trust to her woman's wit to protect her. " Earl," she murmured softly, " if. Indeed, you love me as in former years, and seek not to betray me, come in the morning and snatch him from me by violence. Leave me here to-night, I pray thee, for I am weary to the death." Low bowed the Earl till his brandished plume brushed his in- step, then turned swiftly and bade the Prince good night and de- parted homeward, bragging to his men that the fair Enid never loved man but him, nor cared a broken egg-shell for her lord ! And Enid, left alone with Prince Geraint, sat pondering how she could best break her lord's command of silence and tell him all that troubled her. As she wrestled with her thoughts, the calmness of the room bore In upon her, and turning she saw that Geraint had fallen back in deep sleep upon the couch where he sat. Swiftly she flew to his side, and, settling him in a com- fortable position, hung over him in a rush of tenderness, noting his firm, deep breathing, and thanking God that he had passed 94 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING through the day's perils In safety. Finally, overcome with fatigue, she leaned against him and slept a troubled sleep till the cock, crowing at dawn, awakened her. Rising up, she endeavored to collect and arrange her husband's armor, and, while bungling at her unusual task, let It fall jangling to the floor. Immediately Geraint rose up and stared at her, and Enid broke the silence he had commanded and told him all Earl Limours had said, sav- ing the passage touching her husband's love, and ended by craving his pardon for her own crafty reply. Though his mind still dwelt upon her words of the previous morning, Geraint could find no fault with her now In word or deed, so he bade her order their horses brought. Quickly Enid roused the sleeping host, and then, all unasked, aided her lord to don his armor. Sallying forth Geraint bade the amazed land- lord keep five horses and their armor for his pay, then, as he assisted his wife to mount, charged her, saying: "Enid, I es- pecially ask to-day that, whatsoever you may hear or see, you warn me not. See that you obey." " Yea, my lord," answered Enid sadly, " 'tis ever my wish to obey you, but your command Is a hard one, when I must ride In advance and hear the evil threats, and note the danger which you seem not to see." " Be not too wise," answered Geraint unkindly, " seeing that you are wedded to a man who hath arms to guard his head and yours, eyes to find you out however far, and ears to hear you even in his dreams." Forward toward the waste earldom of Doorm they traveled, and Enid's heart trembled within her; for the Earl of Doorm, whom his trembling vassals called " the bull," was known far and wide for his strength and fierceness. In a short time her straining ears heard the tramp of horses' hoofs away in their rear, and, turn- ing, she beheld a cloud of dust. Now Geraint rode in sullen silence as though he heard them not, so she rode toward him and, lifting her hand, pointed to the oncoming cloud. Pleased with THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 95 what he termed her obedience to his command, Geraint turned and waited the onslaught. In a moment, Limours, borne on a black horse, " like a thunder- cloud whose skirts are loosened by the breaking storm," dashed up and closed with him. But Geraint smote him heavily to the earth, and overthrew the next who followed, and charged single- handed the small brigade of knights behind. At his first cry of battle the rogues fled panic-stricken, this way and that, like a shoal of darting fish that scatters in a moment at the warning shadow of a man's hand on the stream. "What think you of your lover now?" cried the Prince, with ill-advised humor. " Has your palfrey heart enough to bear his armor? Shall we strip him of it, and buy therewith a dinner for ourselves? Say, which shall it be, fast or dine?" But Enid, half-angered by his coarseness, spoke never a word in reply, and led the way onward, her tear-blind eyes fixed steadily upon her bridle-reins. And so they journeyed, Geraint suffering in silence from a wound received in his late combat, and grimly determined to speak not a word of It to his wife, till his eye dark- ened and his helmet trembled, and, at a sudden turn in the road, he went down In a heap upon a bank of grass. In a moment, however, his wronged wife was beside him, and had swiftly un- fastened his armor till she found the wound and bound It up In her faded veil. Then, fearing that perhaps he was hurt to the death, the horror of It all charged her overwrought nerves, and she sank down beside the way weeping heart-brokenly. Many passed but none heeded them; for it was no uncommon sight In those days to see a woman weeping by the side of her fallen knight. A fugitive fleeing from the wrath of Doorm tore past, and frightened her palfrey so that he ran away into the bushes and was lost, but the noble war-horse stood by like a staunch friend, and tried to stay her grief by rubbing a sympathizing nose against her shoulder and face. At last, when her grief had worn itself low from very violence, she became aware of a body of knights 96 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING approaching. At their head rode one whom she readily divined as the great Earl Doorm himself. Stirred by the beautiful, sorrowing face, he paused. "What! is he dead?" he called. "No, no, not dead!" she answered, in all haste. "Would some of your kind people take him up and bear him away out of this scorching sun? Most sure am I that he is not dead." " Well, dead or not," said the Earl heartlessly, " you mar a comely face with idiotic tears! They can avail him nothing! But, since the damsel's face is beautiful, boys, we will grant the favor. Take him up you, Jeems and Gurth, and bear him to the hall. If he lives, we will have him in our band; if he dies, we have got earth enough to cover him. And don't forget the charger, men, he is a noble one." The great Earl passed on, and two brawny spearmen advanced to do his bidding, growling like dogs because they were thus forced to lose the bones that might by chance fall to them in the day's hunt. Roughly they tossed Geraint upon a rude litter-bier, all in the hollow of his shield, and bore him to the dark, silent hall of Doorm, where they cast him hastily down upon an oaken settle, and rushed away to join their mates in the chase. There through the long hours of the afternoon Enid sat by her husband, chafing his hands, bathing his brow, and calling upon him in endearing terms to awaken and speak to her. At last her voice pierced through the lethargy which bound him, and he became aware of the warm tears falling on his face. " Ah, ha," thought he delightedly, " she weeps for me." And he resolved to lie still and test her to the uttermost, so he gave no sign. As the night shades were falling, the Earl of Doorm and his spearmen came back with their plunder. Soon the great hall rang with life and light and the tumult of many voices. A score or more of handsome, well-dressed women, joined the knights, and, following them, came servants bearing food and wine. Whole THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 97 hogs and quarter beeves, large flagons of rich wines, and all manner of choice eatables made the table groan, and the bandits fell to with an eagerness not unlike that of swine. Their greediness made Enid faint and sick, and she crouched farther back into her dark corner, trembling with fear and horror. At last the Earl of Doorm could eat no more, and, raising his eyes from his plate, he gazed Indolently about the hall until his sharp eyes fell on the shrinking form of Enid. In a moment he remembered the scene of the afternoon and strode toward her. "Eat!" he commanded. "I never yet beheld a thing so pale. God's curse. It makes me mad to see you weep ! Good luck had your good man, for were I dead, who in all the world would weep for me? Sweet lady, never since I first drew breath have I be- held a lady like yourself. If you had some color in your cheeks, there Is not one among my gentlewomen fit to wear your slipper for a glove. Listen to me, girl, you shall share my earldom with me, and we will live like two birds in one nest. I will fetch you wonderful forage from the fields; for I compel all creatures to my will." Great consternation followed the Earl's words. His knights stared at him with bulging cheeks, forgetting In their amazement to swallow their food. The women made grimaces at each other, and one and all hated the fair stranger who stood in their midst with sorrowing down-bent head. " I pray you, sir," answered Enid, speaking so low and with such difficulty that the Earl heard not what she said, " my lord being as he is, kindly let me be." " Aye," replied the Earl, In gracious, self-satisfied vanity, well- pleased at himself for having made the offer, and never thinking any woman would reject It, " eat and be glad, for you are mine." " How can I be glad," queried Enid sadly, taking no notice of the last part of his speech, " unless my lord arise and speak to me?" Vexed at what he termed her foolishness, the Earl caught her 98 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING by the arm and drew her by main force to the table, where he placed food before her and sternly commanded her to eat, " No, no," cried Enid pleadingly, " I will not eat till yonder man upon the bier arises and eats with me ! " " Drink, then," answered the Earl shortly. " Here," pouring her a glass of wine, " drink this, and the wine will change your will." " No, indeed," sobbed Enid, " I will not drink unless my dear lord bids me do it. If he rises no more, then shall I drink no wine while I live." For a moment the Earl paced the floor angrily, gnawing his lips in perplexity, then paused before Enid. " Girl," he said warn- ingly, " yonder man is dead. Be careful how you scorn my courtesies ! A fool you are to weep for one who dressed you in rags ! Doff your ragged, faded dress, and let my gentlewomen clothe you in a robe befitting your beauty." " No," persisted Enid, " I pray you let me be. In this poor gown my dear lord first found and loved me; in this poor gown I first rode with him to Court where the beautiful Queen arrayed me for my bridal like the sun; in this poor gown he bade me clothe myself yesterday when we fared forth in search of adventure, and I will not cast it away unless he himself arises and bids me do it. I can never love any one but him ; I pray you be gentle and let me be," " Truly," cried the Earl, beside himself with rage, and seeing how his women smiled behind their hands, " it is of no use to be gentle, with you ! Take that for my salute ! " giving her a sting- ing slap on the cheek with his palm. And Enid, in her utter fear and helplessness, thinking he would not have dared do such a thing had he not felt certain Geraint was dead, gave forth a sudden sharp, bitter cry, like a wild thing in a trap. Then a strange, terrifying thing happened. With a sudden bound the apparently lifeless knight dashed into the center of the THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 99 room, sword In hand, and with one mighty sweep severed the head from the great Earl's body, and let It roll like a russet-bearded ball upon the floor. All the knights and women ran shrieking from the room, thinking a specter had arisen In their midst, and Geraint and Enid were left alone. " Oh, Enid, my wife," cried Geraint, catching his wife's hands in a close, warm clasp, " forgive me ! I have done you more wrong than yonder villain ! Forgive me, I pray you, for though my own ears heard you say yesterday morning, when you thought me sleep- ing, that you feared you were no true wife, I needs must believe you against yourself. I know not what you meant, neither shall I ask; but of this I am certain no man ever yet had a truer or love- lier wife! Henceforward I will die rather than doubt." And Enid was silent for very happiness, but her starry eyes flashed back a world of answering love and she yielded herself to his embrace. Presently a sudden terror shot through her heart. " O Geraint, fly! Fly before It Is too late! They will pluck up courage soon to return, and then they will surely slay you. Fly, my husband, our charger Is just without the door, forgotten In the edge of the laurels; I saw him but a moment since — my palfrey Is lost." " Then shall you ride with me, dear Enid. Come! " answered Geraint, leading her forth. Scarcely had they reached the open hall door when the noble war-horse came toward them with a low whinny. Enid threw her arms about his neck and kissed his white-starred forehead In glad welcome. Then Geraint quickly mounted and held out his hand to his wife; grasping it, she set her foot upon his and so climbed up, and Geraint leaned over and warmly kissed her. So they rode swiftly away, and the heart of Enid rejoiced. Just without the gateway of the castle, a full-armed knight rode toward them with all speed and made as though to set upon Geraint. And Enid, fearing for her lord's hurt and loss of blood, cried loudly: " I pray thee, knight, slay not a dead man! " loo THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING "The voice of Enid!" joyfully exclaimed the strange knight. And lo ! it was Edyrn, the son of Nudd, Enid's cousin whom Geraint had overthrown at the joust of the Sparrow-hawk. But Enid perceived not his gladness, and was more fearful than be- fore, for she knew not what his spirit might be toward them. " O cousin," she cried pleadingly, " slay him not who gave thee life!" " My lord Geraint," said Edyrn, holding out a welcoming hand, " I greet you with all love. I took you for a bandit knight of Doorm. Fear not, Enid, that I should fall upon him who has done so much for me; for once when I was up so high in pride that I was halfway down the slope to Hell, by overthrowing me he threw me higher. Now, by his grace, I am a knight of Arthur's Round Table, and I am come, a mouth-piece of our good King, to bid the Earl of Doorm disband himself, and scatter all his powers, and come to the judgment of the King." " Alas, thou art too late! " exclaimed Geraint. " He now hears the judgment of the great King of kings, and his powers are scattered. See ! and he pointed to the frightened men and women staring from knolls here and there, and to others still fleeing in the distance. Then he told what had befallen, and how the Earl lay dead in his silent hall. But when Edyrn prayed him to come to the camp hard by and acquaint the King of the matter, he was unwilling and ashamed, knowing all his own folly. " Well," said Edyrn, at last, when he found no argument would move him, " if you will not come to Arthur, he will come to you." " Enough ! " cried Geraint resignedly. " Lead on, I follow." And Enid, as they journeyed, was consumed by two fears: one from the bandits scattered along the way, and the other from Edyrn, from whom she shrank with nervous timidity each time he drew near. At last, perceiving this, he said reassuringly: *' Fair and dear cousin, you no longer have need to fear me: I am changed. Since my overthrow at my last foolish Sparrow- THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID loi hawk joust, when your good husband taught me a much-needed lesson, I have sought to do better. Of course, It did not all come at once; but when I went up to the Court of Arthur, all ashamed and expecting to be treated like a wolf, I met with such courtesy, such fine reserve, and noble reticence, that I longed to be like those about me. My past life looked black indeed, and I sought the wise counsel of the holy Dubric. Often I saw you, Enid, with our beautiful Queen, but I kept myself aloof lest my presence should vex you." His words made Enid's heart glad indeed, and, while she mur- mured her pleasure, they came to King Arthur's camp and the King himself advanced to greet them. For a moment he spoke apart with Edyrn, then gravely smiling, advanced and, lifting Enid from behind Geraint, set her upon her feet and kissed her brother- like, then pointed out a tent where she might rest, and watching until she entered therein, turned eagerly to Geraint: " Ah, Prince, I welcome you back heartily. When first you prayed leave to go to your own land and defend your marshes, I was pricked with some reproof; for I felt that I had let foul wrong stagnate and delegated too much to other eyes and hands. Therefore, I am now come here with Edyrn and others to cleanse this common sewer of my realm. I thank you for the justice meted out to the wicked Earl; Edyrn has briefly told me all. And have you looked at Edyrn, and marked how nobly he is changed? Great is the thing which he hath done; for he hath changed his old life of violence to one of sanest, noblest, most valorous obedience. Verily, he that conquereth his own spirit is better than he that taketh a city. To my mind the thing which he hath done is greater and more wonderful than if he had gone out single-handed and overcome a band of powerful robbers. But come, Prince, you are wounded. Get you to shelter, and I will summon mine own physician to wait upon you." Meekly Geraint bowed low and departed, his heart filled with remorse over his own late shortcomings. And for many days he I02 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING lay weakly upon his low cot, while his wound slowly healed. Enid lingered ever beside him, nursing and ministering unto all his wants with tender cheerfulness; and each day their love for each other grew deeper. Now, while Geraint lay in enforced idleness, the King and his knights went up and down throughout the Doorm realm and set all in order. The slothful officers and the guilty ones, who for bribe winked at wrong, were ousted out of office, and strong, wise men set therein. For many days a thousand men moved here and there in all the waste lands, clearing out the dark places, and letting in the light and the law. Then, when Geraint was whole again, they moved slowly back to Caerleon-on-Usk. Most joyfully did Queen Guinevere welcome her friend Enid, and clothed her once more in beautiful apparel. And Geraint, though not as proud of the friendship as he once had been, rested well content, knowing that he held all of his beautiful wife's love, nor feared he the influence of another. And so for a time they abode in the Court of Arthur; then traveled away to their home on the Severn in Devon. Here Geraint administered the King's justice so wisely and well, that all men loved him and rejoiced in his good government and his might in tournament and battle. Everywhere he was spoken of as the " Great Prince " and " Man of Men," and his wife Enid w^as loved and revered no less than himself, and people called her " Enid the Good." Noble children came to bless their home, and nevermore did trouble darken their doors, until Geraint's honorable life was ended in the great battle for the King against the heathen of the North Sea. CHAPTER VIII THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT ONCE, when Arthur was but a boy, he roamed one day through the trackless realms of Lyonesse, and stumbled all unawares upon a valley which the people all about shunned. This vale was haunted by two brothers, one a king, who had fought and killed each other there, and their bones lay bleach- ing in the sun. And Arthur, laboring up the pass in the misty moonshine, stepped suddenly upon the skeleton that wore the crown, and the skull broke from the neck, and the crown, thus set in motion, turned on its rims and rolled down the crags like a glittering rivulet. Arthur scrambled after, and secured it at the risk of his life. Beautiful, indeed, was the prize, of richly wrought gold, all engraved in fanciful design, and decorated with nine diamonds, one in front and four on each side. " Ah ! " cried Arthur, in boyish admiration and elation, setting the crown on his head, " would that I were a king ! " Years passed on and Arthur's wish came true; then he brought forth the crown and, plucking out the jewels, showed them to his knights, saying: " These jewels which I chanced upon divinely are not mine. They belong to the kingdom, and I shall devote them to public use. Henceforward let there be, once every year, a joust for one of these: for so by nine years' proof we needs must learn which is our mightiest, and ourselves shall grow in use of arms and manhood, till we drive the heathen from out all our land." And it came to pass as the King desired. Eight years rolled away, and eight jousts had been, and each time Lancelot had easily won the diamond, intending when he had secured all to give them to the Queen in token of his love and loyalty. The time for the 103 104 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING ninth and last tournament was at hand, and the prize was to be the central diamond, the largest and most beautiful of them all. But It so chanced that Queen Guinevere was just recovering from an Illness, and could not be present. " Alas," mourned the King regretfully, " I wish the time were not now; for you will miss the great deeds of Lancelot and his powers In the lists, — a sight you love to look on." The Queen answered never a word, but lifted her eyes languidly to Lancelot, where he stood beside the King, and Lance- lot, whose love for her was ever in conflict with his loyalty and love for the King, thought within himself: "Alas, she needs me here. Is not my love greater than jewels?" So, though it grieved him sorely to give up hope of winning the last diamond, he turned to the King and observed sadly: ** Ah, King, I am afraid the jewel is lost to me; for my old wound that Sir Mador gave me troubles me of late, and I am scarce fit for the saddle." For a moment a troubled doubt crossed the good King's heart, and he glanced sharply first at his wife, then at his trusted knight, Lancelot, but he turned away without a word. Scarcely had he closed the door, when the Queen burst out peevishly: *' To blame, my lord Lancelot, much to blame ! Why do you not go to the jousts? Half of the knights now are our enemies, and they will accuse us of shamefully staying at home and betraying the good King's trust." And Lancelot, vexed that he had lied to the King all to no purpose, replied hastily: "My Queen, you are overlate In your wisdom; you were not so wise when first you loved me. As for the gossips, let them say what they will; but, indeed, my loyal wor- ship Is allowed by all, and no offense Is thought. But Is there more? Hath the King spoken, or does my loving service weary you?" " The faultless King, my lord Arthur ! " laughed Guinevere scornfully, " he cares not for me. He Is so wrapped up in his foolish fancy of the Round Table, and swearing men to Impos- THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 105 sible vows, that he never thinks of me. Reproached me? In- deed, no. He has never had a glimpse of mine untruth; but to- day I thought there gleamed a vague suspicion in his eyes. The pink of perfection is he, — but who can gaze on the sun in heaven? My friend, to me he is all fault who hath no fault at all! I am yours, not Arthur's, as you know, save by the bond, and therefore must you hear my words: go you to the jousts." " But," queried Lancelot, " how can I show myself at the tour- nament after my lying pretext of a wound? The King himself is utter truth, and honors his own word as if it were his God's." " Yea," sneered the Queen, " a moral child without the craft to rule, else had he not lost me. But listen, if I must find you wit: disguise yourself and go unknown pretending that, as men have said knights fall before the glamor of your name rather than the prowess of your sword, you sought in this way to test your might. This will please the King, for no keener hunter after glory lives than himself. Go, and win ! " So Lancelot perforce yielded to the Queen's wishes, and in a sorry temper got himself to horse, and set out by unfrequented ways for the tourney field. As he journeyed among the solitary downs, full often lost in fancy, it chanced that he missed his way, and towards evening drew near to the castle of Astolat, which shown from afar in the western sun. Riding up to the marble gateway, he blew a shrill blast upon the horn which hung with- out, and immediately an old gray-headed man, dumb as an oyster, appeared and motioned him to enter. Right willingly Lancelot obeyed, marveling much at the speechless man, who showed him to a little chamber in the turret and helped him to disarm. And straightway Lancelot came forth, and met the lord of the castle and his two stalwart sons, Sir Torre and Sir Lavaine, while close behind came Elaine, the daughter, who for her fairness was called by the people " The Lily Maid of Astojat." There was no mother of the house to greet him, for God had called her. " Whence comest thou, my guest?" cried the Lord of Astolat, io6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING extending his hand in hearty greeting. " And what may be thy name? I guess from thy stately presence that thou belongest to the great Court of Arthur and the knights of the Round Table." " Aye," answered Lancelot, " thou hast guessed truly. But ask not my name now, for I desire to ride unknown to the jousts, and may not give my reasons. Also I would ask another favor of thee : unwittingly I brought my shield with me, and I dare not carry it to the tourney, for it is widely known; I pray thee, then, lend me another shield, that my disguise may be complete, and keep this one till I come again." " Gladly will I do so," answered the host. " You can have my son Torre's. He was lately wounded and can not ride to the tilt." " Yea," said Sir Torre bluntly, " since I cannot use it, you may have it." " Fie, Sir Churl," laughed the father, " is that an answer for a noble knight? Forgive him, my guest. But here is Lavalne," turning playfully to his younger son, " he is going to the Diamond Jousts, and forsooth he is so strong and brave that he will certainly do nothing less than win, in an hour's time, and has promised to bring back the diamond and set it in his sister's golden hair." " Nay, good father," cried Lavaine, crimsoning with embar- rassment, " shame me not before this knight. Thou knowest it was all a jest! Torre was vexed because he could not go, and my sister here told us how she dreamed that some one brought her the diamond, but that she let it slip through her hand and lost it in the stream. And so. Sir Knight, I said /"/ I won the prize, then she must keep it better. So you see it was nothing but a joke! But, dear father, if he will have my company, I should like very much to ride to the jousts with this good knight. Win, of course, I shall not, but yet I will do my best." " Indeed," said Lancelot heartily, " I should be glad to have your company and guidance over these moors whereon I all but lost myself. Also should I like to see you win the diamond and THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 107 bring it home to your fair sister. It is a wondrous jewel I hear." " Aye," muttered Sir Torre bitterly, " a fair, large diamond, more fit for queen than for lily-maid." " Nay, not so," answered Lancelot gallantly. " If the proverb, ' what is fair be but for the fair,' is true, as I thinlc it is, then this fair maiden might wear as fair a jewel as there is on earth." And Elaine, won by his mellow voice, thought to herself, " Surely this is the most noble knight in Arthur's Hall," and there stole into her heart a love for him which later worked her doom. Yet there was little about this knightly courtier to win a maiden's fancy, saving his kingly bearing, gracious courtesy, and pleasing converse. Twice her age was he, and his noble face was bronzed and worn with care, and scarred with the conflict between his love for Guinevere and his loyalty to Arthur, his friend and King. But still he was good to look upon, the darling of the Court, and past- master of the art of conversation, and he charmed them all, as they sat about the dinner board that evening, with his talk of Court and camp and adventures here and there. However, when Guin- evere's name was mentioned, he deftly switched the tide of talk, and inquired concerning the dumb man who had admitted him. " The heathen reft him of his tongue ten years ago," answered the host, " when he learned of their fierce design against my house, and warned me of it. With my sons and little daughter I fled to the woods and had refuge in a boatman's hut by the river for many days, till our good King drove the pagan out from Badon hill." " O, Sir Knight," cried Lavalne eagerly, interrupting his father's tale of woe, " tell us of Arthur's famous wars, for we live apart and know so little." Willingly Sir Lancelot complied, for he loved to tell of Arthur's prowess in battle, and his hearers sat spell-bound before his tales of knightly daring. In glowing words he told of the four loud battles by the shore of Duglas; of the terrible war that thundered in and out of the gloomy skirts of the Celidon forest; of the io8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING struggle by Castle Gurnion, where the glorious King wore on his cuirass the famous Russian Emerald (first given by Pilate to Tiberius Caesar), having the head of Christ engraved upon it^ and how the sun splintered in silver rays, lightening as he breathed, until the Saxons were sore afraid; of the conquest at Caerleon, where the strong neighings of the wild, white horse set every gilded parapet shuddering; and of the last great battle on the mount of Badon where the King charged at the head of his Round Table and broke the heathen. " Oh," he cried in conclusion, " the King is mighty on the battle-field! There lives no greater leader! At home he seemeth mild and careth not at all for our jousts, laugh- ing when one of his knights overthrows him easily according him the better man, but, when he faces the heathen in battle array, the fire of God descends upon him. He is transfigured and his face is wonderful to behold. There is no man like our glorious King!" "Saving your own great self!" thought Elaine worshipfully, following the light and shade of his talk with ever deepening in- terest and noting the play of expression on his speaking counte- nance. And, perceiving an under current of sadness through all, she tried by various little attentions to bring him cheer, and suc- ceeded each time in calling up such a " sudden-beaming tenderness of manners and nature " that, all unused to men and courtier ways, she thought the brightness beamed for her alone. All night long the dark, splendid face lived before her, speaking in silence of noble things, and it held her from sleep. At dawn she arose and went down into the courtyard, cheating herself with the belief that she went but to bid Godspeed to her young brother, Lavaine. Now it so chanced that as she stole down the long tower stairs, Lavaine passed within to get Torre's shield for Lancelot, and so the lily-maid found the knight standing alone by his proud horse, smoothing its glossy shoulder, and humming to himself. Half- envious of the noble horse, Elaine drew nearer and stood gazing THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 109 with all her soul. And Lancelot, turning around, stood more amazed than if seven men had suddenly set upon him, for in the dewy light the maiden seemed more beautiful than the angels; yet a sort of fear stirred him as he saw that she gazed upon his face as though it were a god's. He greeted her silently, and suddenly there flashed over her a wild desire that he should wear her favor at the tilt. For It was the custom In those days for knights to wear in their helms at tournaments some glove or scarf of the lady whom they favored most. Timidly, and with madly beating heart, she made the request. And Lancelot scarce knew how to answer her. Before his guilty soul floated the vision of Queen Guinevere's matchless beauty, and the thing Elaine asked seemed impossible. " Nay, fair lady," he said slowly, turning away to avoid her disappointment. " It has never been my custom to wear a lady's favor at the lists, therefore I cannot do It now." " But," answered Elaine eagerly, seeking an excuse for him with ready woman's tact, " if you now wear my favor it will then aid the more In keeping your disguise." " True, my child," agreed Lancelot, seeing much wisdom In her counsel. " Well, I will wear it. Fetch it out to me." Delighted to obey, Elaine skipped happily to her boudoir, re- turning straightway with a red velvet sleeve, beautifully em- broidered with shining pearls, and bound it upon his helmet. And Lancelot submitted smilingly, saying: " Never yet have I done so much for any maiden living." The words filled Elaine's heart with delight and dyed her beau- tiful face a rich carmine, but the color fled quickly, leaving her paler than before, as Lavaine appeared with his brother's shield, and made ready to depart. " Do me the grace, my child, to keep my shield till I return," said Lancelot, handing to Elaine his famous shield, whereon gleamed the azure lions in shining, jeweled splendor, and sub- stituting Torre's plain, and as yet unblazoned one. no THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " The grace is mine, Sir Knight," replied Elaine, accepting the charge gladly. Then Lavaine kissed the roses back Into his sister's cheeks, " lest people think her really a lily-maid." The King's knight kissed his hand to her in true courtier fashion, and the two rode away, Elaine watching them from the castle gateway as far as she might see. And so It came to pass that — Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, Elaine the lily-maid of Astolat, High in her chamber up a tower to the east, Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot. Elaine passed her days in sweet dreaming and vain imaginings. She placed the shield where the sun's first rays might strike the jeweled lions, and awaken her with their gleams from her dreams of their great owner. Then, as the days passed, she began to fear the shield might rust, and she furnished for it a beautiful case, all embroidered with silk after the fashion of the shield itself, and added from her needle-woman's skill a border of branch and flower, and a yellow-throated nestling in a nest. And, as she worked, she mused over each cut and dint in the scarred shield and fancied what had taken place in field and tournament. Meantime the two knights fared forward toward the lists, and, as they neared their destination, the elder said to the younger: *' Would you know my name? Hear it then, but tell it not. 'Tis Lancelot of the Lake." "Is it, truly?" gasped the lad, filled with hero-worshiping reverence. " The great Lancelot ! At last, I have my wish ! Our country's greatest knight! Now, if I might see the great Arthur Pendragon, Britain's King of kings, then might I die happy! " They were already nearing the meadow where the jousts were to be held, so Lancelot made no reply further than to wave his THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT iii hand toward the lists, and watch the joy and admiration dawn on the young knight's face. It was indeed a gorgeous sight. The great half-round gallery of seats, filled with richly dressed spec- tators, " lay like a rainbow fallen upon the grass." And the lists were rapidly filling with knights, magnificent in their battle array. Lavaine's eyes wandered eagerly over the throng, until they rested upon the high throne, where the great King sat, robed in red samite. All about the royal seat shone and writhed carved, golden dragons, the royal crest of the great house of Pendragon. A golden dragon clung to the King's crown and writhed down his long, rich robe. Two others formed the arms of the chair of state. And just above the King's head, in the ornaments of the canopy, was a golden flower, in the center of which shone the great diamond prize of the day. Lancelot, observing how the lad's eyes were riveted on the King, spoke solemnly, " Just now you called me great, perhaps be- cause I have some skill in war and tourney, but, no doubt, many a youth now in the ascendant will attain to all I have and sur- pass me. Greatness is not in me, unless it be in the knowledge that I have It not. Yonder is the great man — our peerless, white King!" Lavaine stared at him in wonder, not half-comprehending what was meant, but just then the bugles blew and both sides began to make ready for the jousts. The Knights of the Round Table formed the challenging party, and those who came to tilt against them were kings, princes, barons, and knights from far and near.. And Lavaine was for taking sides at once and preparing for the fray, but Lancelot signaled to him and drew away out of the line of combat, and the boy followed his leader, for to his hero-wor- shiping heart Lancelot's slightest will was law. The knights quickly formed into two long lines at opposite ends of the field. " With helmets crested with their ladies' favors or with nodding plumes, and long lances bedecked with pennons that danced to the lilt of the breeze, the great company of knights 112 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING awaited the signal for the onset. And no less impatient than their riders, the splendid war-horses quivered for the fray. Then suddenly the heralds blew a mighty blast on their trumpets; the knights struck spur; and riders and steeds, alike wild with the joy of the conflict, were hurled together in the center of the lists. The hard earth trembled with the shock, and the clear air of morning reverberated with the thunder of arms." Lancelot withheld his hand for a time, until he could see which was the weaker side, then he hurled himself into the midst of the press against the stronger, which was his own order of the Round Table. In a moment it became evident that the knight with the red sleeve favor was a great acquisition to the losing side. Spurred on by cheers and shouts, he was soon at the head of the line — duke, earl, baron, and knight gave way before him, and it began to look as though the Knights of the Round Table would be overcome. Great excitement prevailed on every hand; the spectators rose in their seats in astonished admiration; the knights in the lists marveled much and questioned one another: "Who is this strange knight of the red sleeve that tilts with a daring al- most equal to that of the great Lancelot himself? " And even King Arthur was fired at last by the wonderful deeds of the stranger, and cheered him lustily. Presently there arose in the hearts of the Round Table knights a strong feeling of jealousy that there should live a knight who could outdo the chivalrous deeds of their own beloved chief. And the cousins of Lancelot — strong, mighty men of great prowess in battle — counseled together, and finally bore down upon the stranger in a body, determined to overthrow him, and thus keep their kinsman peerless still. Like a great wave of the North Sea they came on, seeking by weight of men and horses to overwhelm Lancelot and the brave knight fighting valiantly at his right hand, who was none other than the youth, Lavaine. One, with lance aimed low, lamed Lancelot's noble horse; and another struck THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 113 sharply with his spear and pierced through shield and mail, leav- ing the lance head buried in Sir Lancelot's side. Then Lavaine, seeing the great danger of his beloved hero, did a most noble deed. With a well-aimed blow he overthrew a mighty warrior, took his horse, and brought it to where Sir Lance- lot lay. And Lancelot, sweating with agony from the great wound in his side, got to the horse with Lavaine's aid, minded to endure as long as he might. With a great shout the knights of his party rallied round him; and stirred to fresh zeal by his courage, they smote with might and main. Ever Lancelot led them on until he had driven his kinsmen and all the knights of the Round Table back to the very extremity of the lists. Then came a wild blast of the trumpets, and the Heralds proclaimed that the victory be- longed to the knight of the red sleeve, and bade him advance and get the diamond. But Lancelot sat as if suddenly bereft of motion, and his party, seeing this, set up a deafening cheer and cried with one voice: '* Advance, man, and get the prize ! 'TIs well won." " The prize ! " gasped Lancelot, suddenly swaying In the saddle. "No diamond prize for me! My prize is death! For God's love give me air! " Struck dumb with consternation were all the knights about him, and Lancelot took swift advantage of their plight and stole away from the field. And no one marked where he went, save the faith- ful Lavaine, who spurred his horse forward and kept him silent company till they came to a hermit's cave in a poplar grove some miles away. Then Lancelot could keep his saddle no longer, and slid to the earth, crying to Lavaine, " Draw out the lance head! " Lavaine obeyed, though with sore misgiving, fearing that his lord might die in the drawing of it; and Lancelot gave a great shriek and a ghastly groan and fainted dead away. The hermit heard the cry of suffering and came hurrying forth, and it chanced that he was once a knight and knew Lancelot well; so he caught 114 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING him up and bore him in, and tended him with great skill. But for many weary weeks Lancelot lay hidden from the world by the tall poplars and the ever-tremulous aspen trees, and Lavaine and the good hermit waited upon him faithfully, being in daily doubt as to whether he would live or die. Now on that day when Lancelot and his young friend led the lists, there was great wonder and pity among the people assembled. And the knights whom he had led so victoriously went to the great King, saying: *' Sire, our knight, through whom we won the day, hath gone away sorely wounded, and hath left his prize untaken, crying that his prize is death." " Heaven hinder that so great a knight as we have seen to-day should pass uncared for," said the King. " He is a mighty war- rior. Indeed, he seemed to me another Lancelot! Yea, twenty times I thought he was Lancelot, and I am yet in doubt." And the King pondered for a moment, becoming more and more convinced that the disguised knight was Lancelot, in spite of every proof to the contrary. So he called Gawain, his nephew, son of Lot and Bellicent and brother to Gareth, and bade him take the diamond and ride forth at once, day and night, until he found the knight who had so dearly won it, and give it to him, charging Gawain also to return speedily to the Court bringing news as to the stranger's identity and how he fared. Now Gawain was mighty and grave, and known among his com- rades as " Gawain, the Courteous," because of his courtly man- ners; but he did not reverence his word as the King would have all men do, and often carried a treacherous heart. He accepted the quest with a smiling face but fared forth in wrath; for the feasting and merry-making were yet to come, and he loved the banquet and the company of the ladies better than he loved the service of the King. However, seeing that the knight was so sorely wounded, he hoped to find him in the nearby community, and so rode at a gallop, searching all the countryside, and stopping everywhere save at the neatly hidden hermit's cave. At length. THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 115 as he traveled in an ever-widening circle, he came to the gates of Astolat, and Elaine hailed him joyfully: "Ho, Sir Knight! What news from Camelot? What of the knight of the red sleeve?" " He won," answered Gawain, half forgetting his courtly man- ners in his wonderment at the maiden's radiant beauty, " but he parted from the jousts hurt in the side." Whereat Elaine caught her breath, and smote her hand on her own side as though she felt the lance wound therein, and well- nigh fainted. Then came the Lord of Astolat, and to him Gawain told his quest, and how he had searched the countryside at random, and was wearied of it all. '* Aye ! " cried the hospitable lord warmly. " Ride no more at random, noble Prince ! Abide with us; here was the knight, and here he left a shield, which he will surely send or come for. Furthermore, our son is with him, and we shall surely have news soon." And Gawain, carelessly forgetful of the King's command, and more than willing to tarry for a time in a home containing so per- fect a maiden, consented with an exaggeration even of his usual courtesy, saying to himself: *' Well, if I bide, lo ! this wild flower for me 1 " So for many days he tarried, and set himself to play upon her with free flashes of courtly wit, songs, sighs, slow smiles, and golden eloquence. But the fair, lily-maid, Elaine, had no heart for his mock courtship, and soon grew very weary of him. "O Prince!" she cried. "Loyal nephew of our noble King, why ask you not to see the shield which the knight left, and in this wise learn his name? Why do you slight your King and lose the quest he sent you on? Why be no surer than our falcon, who, yesterday when we slipped him at the horn, lost it and went to all the winds? " " By my head," answered Gawain, " I lose it, as we lose the lark in heaven, O damsel, in the light of your blue eyes ! But, if you will, let me see the shield." ii6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING And when he saw the azure lions, crowned with gold, he smote his thigh, and cried mockingly: "Right was the King! Our Lancelot! that true man! " " And right was I," answered the lily-maid merrily, not noticing his insincerity, " I, who dreamed my knight the greatest knight of all." "And is Lancelot your knight?" queried Sir Gawain, still in a mocking tone. " Have I, then, wasted my time? Do you love him, fair maiden? " " I know not," answered Elaine simply. " Perhaps I know not what love is, for my brothers are the only young men I have known ; but if I love not him, there is no other man that I can ever love." " Yea, by God's death," said Gawain, " I see you love him well, but doubt such If you would love him still if you knew what others know, or her whom they say he loves. But stay! One golden minute's grace ! He wore your favor at the tourney. Can he have changed his worship ? It well may be. 'Tis like our true man to change like a leaf at last! 'Tis no concern of mine. Far be it from me to cross our mighty Lancelot in his love ! And so, fair lily-maid, if, as I doubt not, you know his hiding-place, suffer me to leave the diamond with you. Here! If you love, it will be sweet to give It; and, if he love, it will be sweet to have it from your hand; and whether he love or not, a diamond Is a diamond. Fare you well a thousand times! A thousand times farewell! Yet, If he love, and his love holds true, we two may meet at Court hereafter." And so Gawain called for his horse and departed at full speed, caroling lightly as he went, well-pleased to be rid of the unwelcome quest. In the meantime. King Arthur had cut short the festivities at the jousts and returned home, filled with misgivings over the fate of his friend, if It were Lancelot, and minded to find out for a THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 117 certainty. Almost the first question he asked of the Queen was, "Where is Lancelot?" "Was he not with you?" cried the Queen in amazement. " Did he not win the prize? " " Nay," answered Arthur, " but one liice him, — a great and mighty knight, even greater than Lancelot." '* Ah, but that was he!" exclaimed the Queen eagerly. "No sooner had you parted from us, my King, than Lancelot told me of a common talk that men went down before his spear at a touch knowing he was Lancelot; he said that his great name conquered, and therefore would he hide his name from all men, even the King, and to this end he made the pretext of a hindering wound, that he might joust unknown of all, and learn if his old prowess were in aught decayed, saying also, ' Our true, Arthur, when he learns, will well allow my pretext, as a gain of purer glory.' " "Aye! " replied the King sorrowfully, "but far lovelier in our Lancelot had it been, in lieu of idly dallying with the truth, to have trusted me as he hath trusted thee. Surely his King and most familiar friend might well have kept his secret. True, indeed, albeit I know my knights are fantastical, so fine a fear in our Lance- lot must needs have moved me to laughter; but now little cause remains for laughter. — 111 news, my Queen, for all who love him — ■ for his own kin knew him not and set upon him, and he left the field, no one knows whither, most sorely wounded. Only one item of it all cheers me, and that is the hope that Lancelot no longer bears a lonely heart; for, against his usual custom — and a thing that deceived us all — he wore upon his helm a beautiful scarlet sleeve, richly broidered with pearls. The gift of some gentle maiden, I doubt not; and God grant he be with her now! " " Yea, Lord," murmured Queen Guinevere, " thy hopes are mine," and could say no more, but turned sharply about and fled to her chamber, lest the King detect the sobs that threatened to choke her. Here she wrestled with her grief, well-nigh distraught ii8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING over the thought that Lancelot had ceased to love her and turned to another. At length pride came to her aid, and she rose and moved about the palace, pale and cold. Days passed and still no message came from Lancelot, and the good King grew very uneasy and was exceeding wroth with the knight whom he had sent in search of him. Then came Gawain, light-hearted and courteous still, with a tale all fixed to suit the occasion. "Sir and my liege, the knight was Lancelot! This much I learned certainly, but I failed to find him, though I rode the whole country over. But I lighted on the maid whose sleeve he wore. She is the beautiful daughter of the Lord of Astolat, and known In all the country thereabouts as ' Elaine, the fair, Elaine, the good, Elaine, the lily-maid of Astolat.' Lovelier than the daintiest, purest lily in all the world is this lily-maid, and her love is given to Lancelot. And I, thinking our courtesy the truest law, gave the diamond into her keeping, charging her to deliver it at once to Lancelot; for by my head, she knows where our knight is in hiding." But the clever speech failed to pacify Arthur, and he turned frowningly upon the over-confident Gawain : " Too courteous you are, truly! You shall go no more on quest of mine, seeing that you forget obedience is the courtesy due to kings." So saying, the King turned shortly on his heel and left Gawain staring after him in silent anger. Then a vindictive light flashed into his cold gray eyes, and h€ glanced triumphantly to where the Queen leaned against a pillar, stricken to the heart with the news he had given; then tossed back his hair defiantly, and strode into the palace, there to buzz about stories of the lily-maid of Astolat and her love. Soon all through the palace flashed the whisper: "Lancelot loves the lily-maid of Astolat, and the lily-maid loves him." And many there were who marveled over it, and took great delight in probing the Queen, who hid her suffering as best she might. THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 119 Like fire in dry stubble the story flared, and each day some fresh item was added by the gossips; till the knights at the banquet for- got to drink to Lancelot and the Queen, according to custom, but pledged Instead Lancelot and the llly-mald of Astolat, and smiled at each other as they did so; while the Queen listened to It all perforce, and smiled with cold, set lips, albeit she ground her feet deep Into the velvet beneath the banquet board, while the meats became as wormwood to her, and she hated all who pledged. Meantime, far away, the maid of Astolat, her guiltless rival, kept the memory of Lancelot green within her heart, and watched for him longingly day by day, but he did not come. Finally, heart- sick with waiting, she crept to her father's side and begged him to allow her to go in search of Lavalne. But her father guessed her secret; so she confessed at once that it was to find Lancelot, and give into his hand the diamond, that she wished to go. " For," said she, " in my dreams I have seen him lying pale and gaunt with wasting sickness, all for the lack of the care that I might give him." Fain would the old man have detained her at home, saying that they would surely have news soon; but she had ever been a petted, wilful child, and now he could not say her nay. So, perforce, he gave his consent, and she set out at once under the escort of her good brother. Sir Torre. They traveled for many weary miles over the downs toward Camelot, and at last came unexpectedly upon Lavalne, practising at arms upon his horse. " Lavalne ! " cried Elaine breathlessly. " Lavalne, how fares my lord, Sir Lancelot? " "Torre and Elaine!" ejaculated the youth, in open-mouthed amazement. "Why are ye here? Sir Lancelot! How know ye my lord's name Is Lancelot? " Elaine began eagerly to tell him of Gawain and his quest; but, before she was half through, Sir Torre, being vexed with her for coming forth, Interrupted with a brief farewell, saying that Elaine could stay with Lavalne If she were so minded, but as for him- I20 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING self he would get within the gates of their kinsman, who dwelt beyond the city, for rest and shelter. And so the lUy-mald went alone with Lavaine across the poplar grove to the cave of the hermit, and the first thing which she beheld was the remnant of her scarlet sleeve still bound upon the helmet, and It made her heart rejoice. Half timidly she advanced into the Inner room, and there saw the great Lancelot, gaunt and pain-wasted, scarcely more than the bare skeleton of his mighty self, lying upon a low couch of wolf skins, and a faint cry of pity escaped her. Gently she slipped to her knees beside him, and, when he turned his fever-kindled eyes upon her, she held up the gem, saying falterlngly: "Your prize, the diamond sent you by the King." Then, in a broken voice, she told him of all the events which had followed his disappearance from the lists, and ended by giv- ing the diamond into his hand. Her beautiful, pitying face was very close to him, and Lancelot turned and kissed her lightly, as one would kiss a child who had performed some sweet service, then he passed Into dreamless sleep. Through many a weary day and many a wearier night, the lily- maid watched over King Arthur's mightiest knight, tending him with never failing love and care, though his fevering wound often made him cross and impatient; until one day the wise hermit, skilled in herbs and potions and the woes of man, told her joy- fully that her tender care had saved his life. And during all this time Lancelot watched Elaine and called her sister, and saw with sorrow the secret love that burned within her heart. Often he reproached himself bitterly that he could repay her love and kind- ness only with a brother's love, and felt that had he met her earlier In life, before that other fatal bond had made him prisoner, per- chance she might have made another world for him. But now it could not be; It was too late to change, — ^the shackles of his old love straitened him, his honor rooted in dishonor stood, and his unfaithful love for Guinevere needs must keep him falsely true to her. Elaine, made wise by love, felt that he could not love her THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 121 in return, and, over and over to herself, like a little helpless, in- nocent bird, she moaned plaintively, " If he will not love me, then I must die." As soon as Lancelot was able to sit in the saddle, Elaine and Lavaine guided him tenderly to Astolat, and there he lingered in the comfort of the princely castle until his wound was made whole, and his strength regained. And each morning Elaine appeared before him in her loveliest robes, hoping thus to awaken his love, and saying to herself: " If I be loved, these are my festal robes. If not, these are the victim's flowers before he falls." At last the time came when Lancelot felt it were unwise to tarry longer, and prepared to go back to the King's service. But before going he was anxious to give Elaine some present, or grant her some boon, in token of his grateful appreciation of her care for him. To this end, he besought her to tell him what she most wished for, but Elaine put him off, not liking to tell him of the one deep wish, and that only, that filled her heart. Finally, he came to her one day, as she roamed idly in the rose garden, and begged her to ask a boon, saying: "Speak your wish, sweet Elaine, for I go away to-day." Then all Elaine's fears rose up in her throat, the garden swam before her, and she faltered out: "Going? And shall I never see you more? Must I die for want of one bold word? Nay, I shall say it: I love you. I have gone mad, methinks." " Ah, sister," answered Sir Lancelot sorrowfully, " what is this?" "Your love," she said, innocently extending her white arms; " your love — to be your wife." " But, think you not, sweet Elaine, that had I chosen to wed, I would have been wedded earlier? Now there never will be wife of mine." " Oh," wailed Elaine, deaf to all thought but that the parting had come, and that she who had loved him back from death to life could never win from him a dearer name than sister, " not to 122 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING be with you, not to see your face — alas, for me then, my good days are done ! " " Dear maiden," said Lancelot earnestly, seeking to lessen her heartache, " this is only a first fancy, a flash of youth such as is common to all, and not true love. You will smile at it yourself hereafter, when you are mated with one of your own years, not twice your age. And then will I, for you are true and sweet be- yond mine old belief in womanhood, endow you, like a brother, with broad land and territory, even to the half of my realm be- yond the sea, and in all your quarrels I will be your knight. But more than this I cannot." While he spoke, the lily-maid, deathly pale, leaned for support against the garden seat, then replied: "Of all this will I have nothing," and so fell swooning, and the servants who came run- ning at Lancelot's loud call carried her away to her chamber in the tower. Now it so happened that the Lord of Astolat, dreaming in the shrubbery near at hand, heard their talk, and could not find it in his heart to blame Lancelot. But he said to Lancelot sorrow- fully: "A first flash of youth, alas! yea, a flash that I fear will strike my fair blossom dead. Too courteous are you. Lord Lance- lot. If so be you could use some roughness, ere you go, to blunt or break her passion, all might yet be well." " That is a hard thing for me to do, my lord," replied Lance- lot, " seeing that I owe my life to her, and that I love her as I might were she my own dear sister; but I will do what I can, since you ask it." So, towards evening, Lancelot sent for his shield; and Elaine slipped it from its embroidered case and sent it to him, and leaned from out her casement to see him pass. She saw him ride below and noted sorrowfully that her favor was gone from ofi^ his helm. And Lancelot heard the clinking of the casement latch, and the lily-maid by tact of love saw that he heard, yet he did not look up or wave his hand, but rode swiftly away with down-bent head. THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 123 This was the only discourtesy which he could bring himself to use. Now a great sorrow spread itself over Astolat and slowly set- tled down. The lily-maid who had been the light and joy of the place sorrowed and drooped in her chamber high to the east, like a pale ghost. No more did her light footstep skim through the house and garden; no more did her gay laughter bring smiles to the faces of father and brothers, and nothing that their love could devise seemed to cheer her. All day long she sat before the empty shield-case, with the voice of Lancelot in her heart and his picture obscuring her vision, mourning and praying that Death would ease her pain. Then one day the words of a little song came to her, and she wrote them down, calling it " The Song of Love and Death": " Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain ; And sweet is death who puts an end to pain : I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. "Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be: Love, art thou bitter; sweet is death to me. Oh, Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. " Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away ; Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. " I fain would follow love, if that could be ; I needs must follow death, who calls for me; Call and I follow, I follow ! let me die ! " Her voice rang through the castle like a wild cry, and her brothers, shuddering, whispered hoarsely, " Hark, the phantom of the house that shrieks before death ! Alas, our sweet sister ! " This was in accordance with a superstition of the times, for in those days every one believed that the Death Spirit gave warning 124 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING before he entered a home. The father and brothers, therefore, hastened with all speed to Elaine's room, but found that the shadow of Death had outstripped them and already lurked over the sweet face of their lily-maid, and not one of them could speak. For a moment Elaine watched them, smiling sweetly, then gave a pale little hand to each of her brothers: " Sweet brothers," she asked, " do you remember how you used to take me, when I was a little child, up the river in the great boatmen's barge; and how you would never go beyond the cape that has the poplar on it, though I cried to go on and find the palace of the King? Last night I dreamed that I was out alone upon the swollen river, and my childish wish to find the palace still stirred in my heart, and now that I am awake the wish still remains, and I pray thee, Father, let me go up to the great Court of Arthur and there find rest." "Peace, child!" answered the father, "you have not the strength to go so far alone. And wherefore would you look on this proud fellow again, who scorns us all?" " Oh," cried Torre, breaking into stormy sobs, " I never loved the man, and if I can but meet him, I care not how great he be, I shall surely strike him dead, for great grief hath he wrought in this house." " Fret not yourself, dear brother," pleaded the lily-maid gently, " nor be angry, seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's fault not to love me, than it Is mine to love him of all men who seems to me the highest." "Highest?" queried her father scornfully, meaning to break her love if he could. " Daughter, I know not what you call the highest, but this I do know, for it Is talked among all, he loves the queen in open shame, and she returns his love; If this be high, what is it to be low? " " O Father," answered the lily-maid faintly. " These are slanders. Never yet was man so noble, but some made Ignoble talk. He makes no friend who never made a foe. It Is my glory THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 125 to have loved one peerless, without stain; so let me die, my Father, and I am not all unhappy, even though I have loved God's best and greatest knight without love In return. Thank you, Father, for wishing me to live, but you are working against your own de- sire; for, if I could believe the things you say, I should but die the sooner. Cease, Father, and call the priest that he may shrive me of my sins." So the holy man was summoned and ministered to her spirit, and departed, leaving her bright and happy. Then she turned eagerly to Lavalne, her youngest and dearest, and besought him to write a letter for her. "Is it for Lancelot?" queried the boy-knight. "If it is for my dear lord, then will I bear it to him gladly." " Nay, dear brother," answered Elaine softly, " 'tis for Lance- lot and the Queen and all the world beside, and I myself must bear It." In unbroken silence the letter was written according to her dicta- tion. Then Elaine turned pleadingly to her father: "O good Father, tender and true, you who have always given me my will, deny not now my last request! When the breath is gone from out my body, wrap me In my richest, fairest raiment, and deck my little bed with coverings as dainty and beautiful as the Queen's own; then bear me on it to the old black barge, and drape It like a funeral pall, and let our old dumb servant row me to the Court of Arthur. But ere I die, place the letter In my hand that I may bear It with me. And let us go alone; for none of you could speak for me so eloquently as mine own silent self. Shall It be so, Father? Promise! O Father, promise me." And the father who had never denied even her simplest request In life could not deny her In death, so promised with bitter sobs. And then Elaine grew so bright and happy that the shadow seemed to lift from her face, and her household whispered one to another that mayhap Death had stayed his hand, and that perhaps 'twas more In Imagination than in the blood. But on the eleventh morn- 126 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Ing she asked her father for the letter, and, with a sweet low- murmured farewell to all, she died. Grief reigned supreme in Astolat, and the whole house mourned uncomforted, but all was done as the dear lily-maid desired. Her brothers bore her gently to the black-samite draped barge, and laid her tenderly in a cloth of gold that wrapped her to her waist. Purest white was her shroud, and her beautiful, unbound hair framed her face and floated o'er her breast and pillow in purest gold. In one hand she bore the letter, and in the other Lavaine placed a beautiful, white lily, fitting emblem of the lily-maid. Above her head they hung the silk-embroidered cover she had wrought for Lancelot's shield, and they bent over her for the last farewell. " Look, Torre," cried Lavaine brokenly, " she smiles as though her sleep were sweet ! One scarce would call her dead, but sleep- ing. Oh, Elaine, sweet lily-maid of Astolat, farewell ! Farewell, my sister dear ! Sweet be thy rest ! " And so the brothers turned stumblingly away, blinded by their tears; and the dead, rowed by the dumb, passed up the river to- ward the great King's palace at Camelot. Now it chanced that on that very day Sir Lancelot craved an audience of the Queen to present to her the diamonds won in the nine years' jousts. Coldly, like a marble statue of herself, the Queen received him in a vine-clad oriel on the river side of the palace. " O Queen! " cried Lancelot, kneeling at her feet, " my Queen, I bring you fitting tribute of your beauty. Grant my worship, dear lady, and make me happy by accepting these jewels. I had not won but for you. Priceless are they, and yet scarce fit to match your loveliness ! I pray you to twine them into an armlet for the roundest arm on earth, or make them into a necklace for a neck which shames the graceful swan ! And, dear lady, rumors have I heard flying through the Court which I trust you have not given ear to. Our bond, not being the bond of man and wife, should THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 127 have in it a firmer trust. Let rumors be. When did not rumors fly? I trust that you believe me in your own nobleness." As he spoke, the Queen half turned away and plucked from the vine-embowered window leaf after leaf, and threw them, all torn and crumpled, upon the floor, till the place was strewn with green. Then, accepted the diamonds with a cold passive hand, and laid them upon the table, ere she burst forth angrily, filled with her own fancied wrongs: " It may be I am quicker of belief than you believe me, Lance- lot of the Lake. Our bond is not the bond of man and wife, and is then easier broken — this much hath it of good. For many years I have for your sake done wrong to one whom in my heart of hearts I ever acknowledged the nobler. And now, diamonds for me ! To loyal hearts the value of all gifts must vary as the giver's. I want them not ! Give them to her, your new fancy ! I pray you add my diamonds to her pearls! Deck her In this splendor; tell her she shines me down: an armlet for an arm to which the Queen's is haggard, or a necklace for a neck, oh, as much fairer as faith once fair was richer than these diamonds! Nay, by the mother of our Lord himself, she shall not have them ! " so saying, the angry Queen, beside herself with jealousy, caught up the diamonds and flung them passionately into the river, then rushed in frenzy from the room. Lancelot staggered to the window ledge and leaned, half-sick of life and love and all things of the world worldly, looking down upon the water where his jeweled hopes lay buried. And as he stood there, lo ! there came slowly up the funeral-draped barge bearing the lily-maid of Astolat, and paused beneath his window, for the gateway of the palace was near at hand. Lancelot was stricken as dumb as Elaine's poor servitor with amazement and grief. "My pure lily-maid! Sweet Elaine of Astolat!" cried his heart reproachfully. " O woe is me! Her father judged the thing aright. Sweet Heaven, that such must be ! Would to God, Elaine, I had died for thee! " 128 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING And while Lancelot stood motionless, struggling with his deep emotion, for he had loved the sweet lily-maid dearly, though not as she desired, the guards of the castle and the people stared wonderingly, whispering one to another, "Who and what Is It?" Then, as the dumb man responded not to their queries, and all his face remained as motionless as though cast in stone, some one cried: " He is enchanted. He cannot speak. And she, look, more beau- tiful than the fairest angel Is she! She sleeps! It Is the Fairy Queen herself! " Cries of dismay and grief arose on every hand, for it had been prophesied that the King would not die, but would one day pass into fairyland. And many were there who believed. Indeed, that this was the fairy barge, come to carry their King away. Soon Arthur himself heard the noise and came, with his knights, to see what it was all about. Then the dumb man uprose in silent majesty and pointed first to the dead maiden, then to Arthur and next to the castle doors; and the great King understood him and signed to two of his purest knights, Sir Perclvale and Sir Galahad, to lift the maiden and bear her reverently into the hall. All the knights and ladies gathered around, and soon came the fine Gawain who had bade her a thousand farewells, crying In amazement: "The lily-maid! Sweet Elaine of Astolat!" Then came Lancelot who had taken no farewell, and stood before her as voiceless now as when she leaned from the casement gazing at him ; and all his heart was lead within him, and the people marveled at his emotion and whispered one to another. Last of all came Queen Guinevere, and, when she saw the beautiful. In- nocent, dead face, her anger melted, and all her heart thrilled with purest pity. Then King Arthur spied the letter In her hand, and, stooping, took It gently, broke the seal, and read: " Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, I, sometime known as the Maid of Astolat, am come to bid farewell to thee, since thou hast taken no farewell of me. I loved thee, and my love had no return, so therefore has it been my death. And so I make THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 129 moan to Queen Guinevere and to all the ladies of the Court that ye pray for my soul and give me burial. And do thou, too, Sir Lancelot, pray for my soul, as thou art a knight peerless." And all those who heard the letter wept for pity, and, glancing at the maiden half-fancied that her lips moved. Many eyes were turned on Lancelot reprovingly, and, seeing this, he stepped out before them all and told the lily-maid's story in a trembling voice : — " My lord Arthur, and all ye that hear, know that I am right heavy for this gentle maiden's death, for good she was and true, and nursed me from my wound, and loved me with a love passing the love of women. God knows I gave her no cause to love me, and only showed her a brother's love in return, of this her father and brethren will bear witness. Nay, more, her father begged me, when I was leaving, to be plain and blunt and break her pas- sion with some discourtesy. This I disliked to do, for the damsel had been very kind to me, and I loved her as though she had been my own dear sister, but, to please her father, I left her without taking farewell. And now, from the letter, it would seem that I only wounded her gentle heart in vain," " Sir Knight," cried the Queen bitterly, her anger still working like a sea after storm, " it seems to me you might have shown her so much grace as would have kept her from her death! " Lancelot looked up quickly, their eyes met, and her own fell: *' Queen," he said slowly, " she would not be content save to be my wife or my love, and neither of these could be. I told her that her love was but the flash of youth, and would die to rise again for some one more suitable to her in age. And also did I promise that when she had put aside her thought of me and wedded some youthful love more worthy of her, I would endow them with wealth and goods from my own estate. More than this I could not do, and this she would not have, but grieving, died." " Alas," said King Arthur, sighing heavily, " I can not see that thou art to blame, albeit, lovely as she is in death, she must have been radiant enough in life to have awakened love in the heart I30 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING of the noblest knight. But It is thy duty and mine, as head of the Round Table, to see that she be buried worshipfully." So the King gave orders that a tomb should be opened for Elaine, among the royal dead in the richest shrine in Camelot, and he him- self led the funeral train. All the knights followed in martial or- der, and " with gorgeous obsequies, mass, and rolling music " the lily-maid's golden head was laid low in the dust, " ashes to ashes," among the half-forgotten Kings and royal ladies. And Arthur commanded : " Let her tomb be grand and costly. Place her image thereupon, with a carved lily in her hand, and the shield of Lancelot at her feet, and blazon with gold and azure letters the story of her voyage hither, that all true hearts may read." Then the great crowd turned homeward, in such order as pleased each, and the Queen, marking where Sir Lancelot stood apart with his eyes bent upon the ground, passed near him and murmured low: " Lancelot, forgive me; mine was jealousy in love." " Aye," returned Lancelot, without looking up, " that Is love's curse ! Pass on, my Queen, forgiven." And Arthur, the pure King, seeing his knight's clouded brow, came to him and said affectionately: " Lancelot, my Lancelot, my knight in whom I have the most joy and affection, seeing this home- less trouble in your eyes, I would to God that thou couldst have loved this maiden, so fair and pure, fashioned for thee alone It seems, who might have made for thee a happy home and given thee loving sons to inherit the name and fame of Lancelot of the Lake." " Aye, my lord," answered Lancelot faintly, " fair and pure in- deed she was, and as lovely in mind as in body, but love cometh not by force." " No," sighed the King, " but there is nothing on this side of Heaven better than true, married love, and that she failed to win thee to this, true and gentle as thou art. Is sore pity." Lancelot could form no answer, and turned away, wandering blindly to a friendly cove beside the river. Here he lifted up his THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 131 eyes and saw the barge that brought the maid of Astolat moving afar off, a blot upon the stream. And he murmured low in grief: " Ah, sweet lily-maid, you loved me surely with a love far tenderer than my Queen's. Farewell, fair lily, now — at last. Yea, I will indeed pray ever for thy soul, as thou didst desire me. Queen, may not your growing fear for name and fame tell truly of a love that wanes? And why did the King dwell on my name to me? Mine own name shames me, seeming a reproach. Lancelot of the Lake! Indeed, 'twere better if the Lady of the Lake had drowned nie in the mere from which they say I sprung. Alas, for Arthur's greatest knight — a man not after Arthur's heart! Of what worth is my greatness or my name if only it makes men worse, and my example leads them to sin? I will break these sundering bonds of shame! But can I if she wills it not? Mayhap, fair lily, thou hast not died in vain! Beseech God, if I do not change, to send his angel down to seize me by the hair and bear me far, and fling me deep into that forgotten mere which lies among the tumbled fragments of the hills." And so Lancelot mourned and wrestled with his troubled spirit throughout all the long night, not knowing he should die a holy man. CHAPTER IX THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL THE search for the Holy Grail was the most wonderful quest in all the history of Arthur. And it began in this wise: The gentle sister of Sir Percivale, known among the knight- hood as " Percivale the Pure," being disappointed in love, fled for peace to a convent and devoted herself to a life of prayer and praise, fasting and almsgiving. Here she learned from her Con- fessor, an aged man whose hair was whitened by an hundred win- ters, a legend concerning the time of our Lord, which had been handed down through five or six generations. When our Lord Christ hung upon the cross, there came one of his loving followers, Joseph of Arimathasa, and caught In a cup the blood which fell from the Master's wounded side. And this cup, was called the " Holy Grail," and was the same from which our Lord had drunk at the Last Supper with his disciples. Now, in the dark days of persecution that followed, Joseph was obliged to flee from the Holy Land, and took refuge In the Island of Britain, where Aviragus, the heathen prince, gave him a home In the town of Glastonbury. Here Joseph wished to found a church of the true faith, and desired from God a sign from Heaven as to the fitness of the place. So, after much fasting and prayer, he planted his hard pilgrim staff In the ground one Christmas eve, and the next morning, lo! a wonderful miracle had happened. The staff had taken root and was crowned with leaves and flowers, and Joseph took it as a symbol that the faith of Christ would thrive and blossom In that heathen land. And the staff grew into a beau- tiful thorn tree, and ever since that time the winter thorn has blos- somed at Christmas In memory of our Lord. 132 THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 133 The Holy Grail remained in the possession of Joseph for many years, and was a great blessing to mankind; for whoever was suf- fering or afflicted in any way had but to touch it, or look, at it, and their troubles fled. But the times grew so evil that so pure a thing could not remain in the sin-afflicted world, and It was caught up to Heaven. But when Joseph of Arimathaea had been sleeping under the Glastonbury thorn for about four hundred years, and the reign of Arthur, " the blameless white king," was come, pious people everywhere began to hope that the Grail might again be returned to earth to crown and glorify the good works of their noble king. Perclvale's sister, the gentle sweet-eyed nun, spent all her days in fasting and in prayer that the Grail might come once more. And her great faith and constant prayer was re- warded thus : One night as she lay sleeping in her narrow convent cell, she was awakened by a sound as of silver horns blowing over the hills In the far distance. At first she thought It some hunter's horn, but as the sound came nearer and louder, and sleep cleared from her brain, she realized that Arthur and his knights would not be abroad at that hour, and that " naught that we blow with breath or touch with hands " could make such clear, beautiful music. Wonderingly she raised herself from her rest, and then a long silver beam stole Into the room, and down the beam floated the Holy Grail, " rose-red with beatings In It, as if alive," and the white walls of the room glowed with rosy colors; and when the Grail had passed, the beam faded away and the rosy quiverings died away Into the night. Then the saintly maiden rose up and spent the remaining night hours in joyful prayer and thanksgiving, and, as soon as morning dawned, hurried away to her brother. " O Percivale ! " she cried, her eyes shining with beautiful light and holiness, " the Grail has come ! The Holy Thing Is here on earth once more ! Rejoice with me, sweet brother, for I have seen It, truly." Then she told him all about the vision and be- seeched him, saying: ''Brother, fast thou, too, and pray. And 134 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING tell thy brother knights to fast and pray, that so perchance the- vision may be seen by thee and those, and all the world be healed." And Percivale hastened to spread the good news among men, and himself and many others fasted and prayed for weeks, ex- pectant of the wonder that would be. Now there dwelt in Arthur's halls a beautiful boy-knight of gentle mien, who moved about always clothed in spotless white, with a face radiant as an angel's, and he was pure as the driven snow. Sir Galahad was his name. Brothers and sisters he had not; neither did any one know who his parents were, but he had been reared by the nuns at the convent. The story of the Grail inspired him, and he went to the nun to inquire concerning it. So pleased was the gentle sister with his purity and innocence, that she cut from her shining wealth of hair enough to plait a broad, strong sword-belt, and into this she wove with silver and crimson threads a strange device of a crimson grail within a silver beam, and bound it on the youth, saying: " My knight of Heaven, whose faith and love is one with mine, round thee I bind my belt. Go forth, fast and pray, for thou shalt see what I have seen, and one will crown thee king far away in the spiritual city." At the great Round Table in the hall at Camelot there was one vacant seat, which Merlin, the great wizard, had built. It was fashioned with strange inscriptions and devices, and was called " The Siege Perilous." No one dared occupy it, because, accord- ing to Merlin, none but the pure could sit therein safely. And the strength of the warning had been fully proven: at different times daring ones who deemed themselves above reproach, so rumor whispered, had attempted it, and been swallowed up for- evermore. Now it chanced one evening that, as the knights sat around the table. Sir Galahad announced his intention of occupying the seat called the Siege Perilous. And the knights cried out In alarm and warning, but Galahad only laughed at their fears, saying, " If I lose myself, I save myself," and straightway sat down. THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 135 Then all the knights gasped and looked to see some dreadful thing befall him, but to their amazement no judgment was meted out. Instead, a great miracle was worked In their midst. All at once there came a dreadful sound as though the roof were crack- ing and rending over their heads. A fearful blast of mighty wind swept down upon the castle, and terrible thunders pealed aloft; and mingled with the sound of thunder was a strange cry, such as man had never heard before. Then there burst Into the room a beam of light, seven times more clear than day, and down that long, clear beam stole the Holy Grail, all enshrouded In a luminous cloud, and none could see who bore it. As it passed, the knights were stricken dumb, and each one arose and beheld his fellow's face as in a glory, and no one spoke until the light had vanished and the thunders ceased. Then Sir Perclvale found his voice and cried out, vowing that, because he had not seen the Grail plainly, he would ride In quest of it and see It without the veil. If it took a twelvemonth and a day. And many other knights also took the vow, among them being Galahad and Lancelot, and his cousin Sir Bors, and Gawain, the Courteous, who shouted louder than all the rest. Now it chanced that King Arthur was not in the hall when the vision appeared, having ridden forth with some of his knights early in the day to storm the fastness of a horde of robbers who were working much damage along the borders. But from afar he heard the terrible thunder and saw the smoke rolling up from the roofs of Camelot, and cried out in alarm lest they had been smitten by lightning, and the wonderful work wrought by Merlin should vanish In unremorseful folds of rolling fire. With all speed he spurred toward home and entered with his smoked, grimy, blood-stained followers into the vision-swept room, and stood in wonder at the knights, all in a tumult, some vowing, some pro- testing. " Perclvale! Perclvale! " he cried, half in amaze, half In anger, to the knight nearest him, " what means this unseemly confusion? " 136 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING And Percivale told him what had taken place, and how the knights had vowed their vows to see the Grail uncovered. Then the King's face grew dark indeed, and he cried in anguish : "Woe is me, my knights! Had I been here, ye had not sworn this vow." "Aye! " cried Sir Percivale boldly, unlike his usual meek, quiet self, " if thou hadst been here thyself, my King, thou, too, wouldst have sworn ! " "How now!" exclaimed Arthur sternly. "Art thou so bold and hast not seen the Grail?" " Nay, Lord," answered Percivale, " I heard the sound, I saw the light, but since I beheld only the shadow of the Holy Thing, I swore a vow to follow it until I saw." The King then asked various members of the Order if they had seen the Grail, but all answered as one : " Nay, Lord, and there- fore have we sworn our vows." " Lo, now," queried Arthur bitterly, "have ye seen a cloud? What go ye into the wilderness to see? " Then on a sudden the voice of Galahad came clear and sweet from the lower end of the hall : " O King, I not only saw the wondrous Grail, but heard a voice saying, *0 Galahad! O Gal- ahad, follow me! ' " " Ah, Galahad, Galahad," said the King, " for such as thou is the vision; not for these other of my knights. No doubt your pure self and the saintly maiden have seen Christ's holy symbol. But," turning to the others, " ye are not Galahads, no, nor Per- civales, not men of holiness and stainless life, but rather war- riors, good and true, with strength to right the wrong, beat down violence and lawlessness, and drive the heathen from our land. But now ye wish to follow like sheep the leader's bell; one hath seen the vision and all the rest, blind though ye be, think ye will see it, too. Well, so be it! Since your vows are made, they are sacred, and ye must go. However, I know full well that many will return no more, but lose their lives in following wandering THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 137 fires! Our good hall will ring with calls for knightly quests and noble deeds, and who will respond, think you ? O me ! that the flower of my realm should thus turn their backs upon duty and court ruin! Ye think I am a gloomy prophet; we shall see. But, my knights, ere we part, and the fair Order of the Round Table which I made, be scattered, let us meet once more in a joyous tournament to-morrow, that I may count your ranks for the last time unbroken." Accordingly, the next day the great joust was held, and never was such a tourney held before at Camelot. All the knights jousted well and nobly, and Galahad and Perclvale, being filled with holy power, won tumultuous shouts from the people for their surprising quickness and skill. But not a knight thought of for- saking his vow, and toward evening one and all began making silent preparations to depart on the morrow. Then the veil of sorrow which had all day been hovering over Camelot, casting shadows on the merriment, fell and muffled all in gloom. Early in the morning the knights passed from Camelot to engage in the Great Quest, and all the windows and long galleries and balconies and even the house-tops were filled with people, who rained flowers upon them and cheered and cried, "God-speed!" as they passed. But In the King's household there was great grief, and the noble King could scarcely control his voice to speak fare- well. The Court ladles wept and walled and accompanied their knights to the gateway, and Queen Guinevere, who rode by Lance- lot's side, shrieked aloud In agony, crying: "Alas, this madness has come upon us for our sins ! " At the mystic gateway, where the three queens stood on guard, the company broke up, and each knight went his own way, while Arthur and his sorrowing household returned to the deserted halls of Camelot. And for a time the blameless, whole-souled King shut himself up, and mourned In exceeding grief and bitterness over what he felt to be the beginning of the end of the noble kingdom which he had wrested from wild beasts and heathen 138 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING hordes. Then he roused himself and sought to find new knights to take the places of his dearest and best, who rode at random, meeting, for the most part, with naught but distress and failure; and ever misfortune, sorrow, and treason crept nearer to him who had struggled so hard to revive In man the Image of his Maker. Now, we may not follow separately the many knights who went out In the mad quest for the Grail, so we will content ourselves with setting down the tale as told by Perclvale, the Pure, to his fellow-monk, Ambroslus, In an abbey, where he secluded him- self from the pomp and vanities of the world on his return from a partially successful search. " When I left my fellows I was lifted up In heart," said Per- clvale, " and never yet had Heaven appeared so blue, or earth so green, and all my blood danced within me, and I knew that I should see the Holy Grail. But after a time my mind misgave me, and every evil thought and deed of times gone by seemed to rise up In judgment against me and repeat Arthur's words: ' This Quest Is not for thee.' " Soon I found myself alone In a land of sand and thorns, and I was sore athlrst. All about me the air was filled with mocking visions: first, I seemed to see a stream of water, clear and cool, and goodly apples on trees hard by; but when I drew nigh hop- ing to eat and drink, all fell Into dust and vanished. Then, as I rode on, home-like visions came to me, only to fall Into dust as I approached. And presently a great warrior In golden armor, with a golden crown, riding on a war-horse also trapped In gold and jewels, came out to meet me and embrace me In his arms; but as I drew nigh unto him, he, too, fell Into dust and vanished, and I was left alone and weary. Again I saw a city set high upon a hill, and by the walled gateway was a great crowd, and they cried as in one mighty voice, ' Welcome, Perclvale, thou might- iest and purest of men I ' Eagerly I climbed up, but found at the top no man or voice that answered me; only the crumbling ruin of a deserted city. And I cried in grief: ' Lo, if I find THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 139 the Holy Grail itself and touch it, it, too, will crumble into dust.' " Then I dropped into a vale, low as the hill was high, and here found a holy hermit to whom I described my phantoms, and he made answer: ' O, son, thou lackest the highest virtue, the mother of them all — true humility. Thou hast been full of pride and thoughts of self and thine own advancement. Thou must needs have the mind which was in Christ Jesus, who humbled Him- self that all should follow His example. Thou must, like the sinless Galahad, lose thyself to save thyself.' "Scarcely had he finished speaking when lo! Galahad himself appeared in the chapel doorway, all shining in golden armor, and we entered the holy place and knelt in prayer. Here the hermit slacked my terrible thirst, and then blessed the sacrament and of- fered it to us. I took the bread in silence, but Galahad turned to me in amazement, albeit his face shown with a wonderful radiance. 'Saw ye nothing, Percivale?' he queried. 'I, Gala- had, saw the Grail, the Holy Grail, descend upon the shrine ! I saw the face of a child that smote itself into the bread and went; and not now alone, but always is the Holy Thing with me day and night. And by its blood-red strength I have conquered the heathen everywhere, and broken their evil ways, and made their realms mine for the King and Christ. But my time is hard at hand when I shall go hence and be crowned King afar in the spiritual city; wherefore arise and follow me, for thou, too, shalt see the vision when I go.' " His great faith filled me with power, and toward evening I followed him with difficulty up a great, tempest-swept hill. Be- yond it lay an evil-smelling, blackened swamp, whitened here and there with dead men's bones, and impassable save where in ancient times a king had built a causeway of piers and arches running out into the great Sea. Over these bridges Galahad sped at once, and I would fain have followed; but every arch, as soon as he had crossed it, leapt into fire and vanished, and thrice above him I heard a thunderous sound like the joyous shoutings of all the I40 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING sons of God. And then I saw him far away on the great Sea, his armor shining hke a star, and over his head hung the Holy Grail, veiled in a luminous cloud. And the boat, if boat it were — I saw not whence it came — sped with exceeding swiftness; and presently from the heavens shot a glorious light and I beheld the Holy Vessel, shining rose-red, clear and pure, over his head, and I gave a shout of joy for I knew the veil had been withdrawn. Then in the distance I saw the spires and gateways of the spiritual city, and beheld Galahad move into it like a shooting-star. And then the darkness fell, and I saw no more. How I returned to the hermitage I know not, but from thence I rode back to Camelot, filled with exceeding joy that my quest was over and that phantoms would never vex me more." Silence ensued for a time, each one busy with his own thoughts, until the old monk turned to his companion, with a sigh: " How different our lives have been ! Yours filled with Court pleasantries, noble quests, mysteries and visions; mine with homely duties among my fold — for I know every honest face as a shepherd knows his sheep — days of quiet prayer, and reading of monkish books. But tell me this, Percivale, saving this Sir Galahad, came you on none but phantoms in your quest? " '* O my brother," answered Percivale sadly, " must I tell thee how far I faltered from my vow? As I wandered about, seeking in vain for the Grail, I chanced upon a goodly town built round a stately palace, where dwelt a Princess rich and beautiful. I knocked at the gates and asked for succor in the name of our noble Arthur. Straightway I was admitted and disarmed by maidens, fair as flowers; then conducted into the presence of the noble Princess. And lo! brother, my very breath stopped, for she was one whom in my youth I had loved with my whole heart, and never since had maiden stirred my pulse, and now I had found her again, the heiress of a dead man's wealth. My heart went out to her again, as of old, and I saw that she loved me, but I made no sign, for I was poor and she rich. However, as I walked one THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 141 day in the orchard, she stole upon me and gave me her first kiss and asked If I would wed her. Now, she was very dear to me, and the Quest seemed far off, yet I hesitated, for Arthur's words came to me, and I felt that this would be ' following wandering fires ' indeed. Then, the leading knights of her territory came to me and begged me to wed with her and be their Prince^ and how near I was to yielding, God knoweth; but, brother, one night my vow flared up and burned within me, and I rose and fled from temptation, yet, as I went, I wept and wailed and hated myself and the Holy Grail and all things save her, my beautiful Princess. But soon after this I came to the hermit's hut and met Galahad, and thereafter cared no more for her, or anything else on earth." " O, brother, the pity of It! " exclaimed Ambrosius. " To find thine own first love again, all but hold her a bride within thine arms, and then to cast her aside like a weed ! But I sympathize with what I know not, for earthly love has never yet come nigh me. Still, brother, I am glad that you have come hither, for hope springs alive in my breast that now, at last, I have found a true friend. But stay, Perclvale, saw you none of your own knight- hood as you wandered? " " Yes," answered Percivale, " one night I met Sir Bors, the cousin of Lancelot, and most joyful was our meeting. Eagerly we questioned each other concerning the Quest, and among the first things I asked him was: 'Have you seen aught of Lancelot?' ' Aye,' answered Bors sadly. ' He dashed past me once In the fever of madness and maddening what he rode. Why ridest thou so hotly on a holy Quest? ' I shouted. ' Stay me notf * was the answer. ' I have played the sluggard, and now I ride apace, for there Is a lion In the way,' and so he vanished, and I am sore grieved that Heaven hath plagued him thus. You see, brother, Bors loved Lancelot faithfully, and said he would be content to give up the Quest, If by so doing he could help Lancelot to see the Holy Grail. " Then he told me how, in his wanderings, he had fallen into 142 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING the hands of a pagan people, who worshiped the sun, moon, and stars, and when he told them of the blessed Christ and his Quest, they mocked him and made him a prisoner. For many days he lay in a foul, underground dungeon until by a miracle — what else? — 3. great, heavy stone, such as no wind could move, slipped and fell, letting In a rush of sweet, fresh air. As he lay gazing out upon the starlit night, the beautiful rose-red Grail stole past him on a beam of light, followed by a deafening peal of thunder. Then a maiden of his own faith, who worshiped In secret among the Pagan herd, came to him stealthily and loosening his bonds, aided him to escape." " Aye," cried Ambrosius, " I know the knight of whom you speak ! He chanced this way, and surely It was the same man. Forsooth, he gave the name of Bors; a shining pelican was engraved upon his helm, and he seemed a reverent, square-set, honest man, with eyes a-klndle and a warm smile, half shrouded in sadness, upon his lips. But saw you no knight but Bors ? And when you reached Came- lot what befell you there? Were all the knights returned, or had there been truth in Arthur's prophecy? And what said the knights, and what replied the King?" " One question at a time, brother," answered Perclvale, smiling at the monk's eagerness, " else I shall not be able to satisfy thee. The good Bors and I journeyed back together, and all along the way were striking evidences of the trouble and ruin that had de- scended upon Arthur's once orderly realm. Here and there grand castles were fallen into decay and peopled with ghosts and phan- toms; we met no gaily decked, smiling knights, and our horses slipped and stumbled desperately over carcasses of hornless unicorns and once noble talbots, while all about the bones of the deadly basilisk and the hated cockatrice lay bleaching In the sun. " We found our beloved King seated upon the throne in his lonely hall, and before him stood only one-tenth of those who had gone forth so joyously on the Quest, and they were worn and wasted. Most kindly did our King welcome me — for I had ; THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 143 ever been a favorite with him — saying that they had greatly feared I had been destroyed in the late fierce storm which had made sad havoc all about, and inquiring sadly if I had seen the Holy Cup that Joseph of old had brought to Glastonbury. " Then, when I had told him all that thou hast heard and of my decision to spend my life in prayer in the seclusion of a monastery he answered me never a word, but turned sharply to his nephew, the courteous Gawain, saying, ' Gawain, was the Quest for such as thee? ' ' Nay, my lord,' answered Gawain softly, ' neither did I pursue it long, for I met a holy man who showed me plainly that it was not. Therefore, I gave myself to making merry in joyous company, and spent my twelvemonth and a day right pleasantly.' " The King now caught sight of Bors, where he stood by Lance- lot's side, and hailed him cordially: 'AH hail. Sir Bors! Thou, I know, hast seen the Grail, if ever it could be seen by loyal man and true,' ' Yes, my King,' answered Bors simply, ' but ask me no more, for I cannot speak of it.' And I saw that he had clasped Lancelot's hand tightly, and that his eyes were filled with tears, in grief and sympathy for his beloved kinsman. " Arthur then called upon others of the sorry company, but each and all spoke of naught but perils by flood and field, till only Lancelot remained, for the King had kept his mightiest till the last. ' O Lancelot, my friend,' he said, ' our mightiest, hast thou achieved the Quest?' — 'Alas, King,' groaned Lancelot sorrow- fully, ' Arthur, my friend, if indeed I be a friend of thine, and mightiest, methinks those are happier who welter in their sins like swine in the mud, sunk so low they cannot see their own shame ! For in me evil and good strove together for the mastery, and the pure and knightly seemed the very stock round which the evil twined and grew, till neither could scarce be discerned; so that, when the knights swore together to find the Grail, I swore with them, hop- ing that if I might touch or see the Holy Thing I might pluck the two asunder, and cast out the evil. I went to a holy saint, and he wept and told me that unless I could separate the two, the 144 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING Quest itself was not for me. So I wrestled In prayer as he directed me, and even while I prayed my madness came again upon me, and drove me Into the deep wilderness. Here I became the sport of little men who once had fled at the mere shadow of my sword. Fleeing from them, I came to the wild sea-shore, and there found a boat tossing among the dank grasses. And all the sea was lashed with foam, and drove like a cataract against the sand, and a wild thought came to me that, perchance, I might embark and lose my- self in the seething waters, and thus wash away my sin in the great Sea. No sooner thought than done; I burst the chains, and sprang into the boat, and so for seven days I drifted along the dreary deep. Then, on the seventh night, when I lay well-nigh distraught for want of food and drink, I felt the boat strike sand and come to anchor, and I alighted near the enchanted castle of Carbonek. Steps led from the sea up to the great entrance way, but on either side of the gate a huge lion stood on guard. However, I was determined to enter, and so, grasping my sword firmly, I sprang toward them. Like a flash they reared themselves on their hind legs and gripped me by the shoulders, one on either side; but before I could smite them, a voice cried: "Doubt not, go for- ward; If thou doubtest, the beasts will tear thee piecemeal." My sword was then dashed violently to the ground, and I passed on Into the empty castle hall, flooded with moonlight from a high window that looked upon the sea. And all through the quiet house sounded a sweet voice, clear as a lark's, that seemed to be sing- ing In the topmost eastern tower, — a voice beautiful as an angel's, and it drew me toward It. Half In a dream, I climbed more than a thousand steps, and finally came to a door, through which showed chinks of light, and heard the voice chanting: "Glory and joy and honor to our Lord, and to the Holy Vessel of the Grail." Here I was perhaps at the end of my Quest! In eager frenzy I beat upon the door and It gave way beneath my hands, then such a blast of light and heat, as though seven times heated in a furnace, smote upon me that I fell blinded and well-nigh senseless. As I THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 145 lay blinking and gasping, methought I saw the Holy Grail, shrouded In crimson samite, and around It great angel-shapes, with wings and shining eyes. And Indeed, but for my madness and my sin, and then my swooning away, I would have sworn that I saw it in very truth; but what I saw was veiled and covered, and so this Quest was not for me.' " There was silence in the hall for several minutes after Lance- lot ceased speaking and each knight stood with bowed head. Then Gawain, encouraged by the silence of the King, burst out recklessly and irreverently In his usual mad fashion: 'Truly, friend Percl- vale, this mad quest of thine and thy holy nun's hath driven men mad, even our mightiest knight of all. Never have / failed thee, King, in any quest of thine, nor shall I ; but herewith I swear for- evermore to be deafer than the blue-eyed cat and thrice as blind as any noonday owl to all holy virgins and their religious ecstasies.' "And the King made answer sternly: 'Gawain, thou art al- ready too blind and deaf to have desire either to see or hear; no need to make thy denseness greater by Idle vows. But If, indeed, there came a sign from Heaven, blessed are Bors, Perclvale, and Lancelot, for each has seen according as It was granted to each of them to see. And Lancelot, my friend, thou errest in saymg that the good and evil had so grown together In thy heart that they could not be dissevered; be sure that apart from thy sin, whatever It may be, there grows some root of nobleness. See to it, my friend, that the plant may bear its flower.' " Then the noble Arthur turned to the wretched, withered hand- ful of men, all that remained of his noble Order of the Round Table, once the very flower of the realm, and addressed them In a quivering voice : ' O my knights, was I too dark a prophet when I foretold that most of those who went forth upon the Quest would follow wandering fires, and be lost In the quagmire of doubt and empty dreams? Surely not, for scarce a tenth of those who set forth in such mad eagerness have returned. And out of those to whom the vision came, Lancelot, our greatest, will scarce believe 146 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING he saw; another hath beheld the Holy Thing afar off, and Is con- tent to leave human wrongs to right themselves, and cares for naught but to pass his life in silent prayer; and Galahad, who alone has seen the vision face to face, his chair is empty, and he comes here no more; however, they may crown him victor in the spiritual city. O my knights, spake I not truly when I said the Quest was not for such as ye, and that our noble Order would only be sacrificed in vain? And some there were among ye who thought that if I, the King, had seen the Vision, I myself would have sworn the vow. But, my knights, do you not know that such could not have hap- pened easily, for it is the King's quest to do the duty set before him in the land he rules? He Is like a tiller of the soil to whom is allotted a portion of a field to plow, nor must he leave It till his work Is done. Do not think, my knights, that I, the King, have no visions come to me? Nay! many a time they come, by night and by day, until sometimes I scarce know whether this earth I tread be earth at all, or the air I breathe be air or vision, but still through all I feel the strength of my purpose to serve my God and Saviour, and then, when the vision Is at its highest, I know I shall never die, but live always. And so, my friends, I have my visions, and you have yours. And what we have seen, we have seen.' " So saying, the King turned away, and all that he meant none could tell. Only It seemed that he meant to show us that the truest servant of God Is he who, like himself, followed not after any great quest, but stayed faithfully at home and looked after the duties God had given him. CHAPTER X GUINEVERE KING ARTHUR at once raised to knighthood men to fill the places made vacant In his noble Order by those who had lost their lives in the vain search for the Grail, and for a time everything seemed as well as at the beginning. The knights jousted and tourneyed as before, they hawked and hunted, and every now and then rode forth and assailed the heathen who frequently broke over their borders ;. but, though mighty deeds were still done, and brave hearts still worshiped and honored the King, there was yet the old evil at work, spreading its poisonous growth throughout the land. The new knights were not the old, and soon faltered in their loyalty to the King. They were easily influenced by evil doings, and the King had many enemies at Court, chief among them being his nephew, Modred, brother to the flighty Gawain, to the noble Gareth, and son of Lot and Belllcent. These evil followers ex- cused themselves by saying that the King expected too much of them, but It was not so, for the King's character was not too lofty a standard for any man who wished to be " a stainless gentleman." And many grew quickly tired of their knighthood vows; others waged long and bitter war with the evil in their hearts, only to fail at last; and very few followed the King to the end, faithful even unto death. Sir Lancelot's wrestlings and struggles to uproot his sin died away with the vision of the Grail. He forgot all about the her- mit's advice and the wise counsel of the King on his return, and became once more the Queen's most willing slave. All men knew it, save the King, for no one dared tell him of the treachery, and 147 148 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING he loved and trusted Lancelot as of old. However, a time came when the thing could no longer be hidden, and it happened in this wise : Day by day Queen Guinevere came more and more to fear Sir Modred's fawning smile and mocking, persistent, gray eyes. She knew him for the cruel, ambitious man he was, and knew also that he hated her and Lancelot, and most of all the King, and that he would stop at nothing to gain his desire — the throne of Camelot. She knew, too, that he spied upon her, and she feared that one day he would track her guilt and proclaim it abroad to all men, and thus shame her forever. So great became her fear that she could not sleep at night, arud started with alarm at every shadow that crossed her path. Then she begged Lancelot, saying: "O Lancelot, If thou lovest me, go away to thine own land. I fear to have thee here, and to meet thee. Go away, I pray thee, until this smoldering scandal has had time to die away in ashes. Go, Lancelot, else the wily Modred will rake all forth into a blaze before the people and our lord, the King." And Lancelot, ever willing to do her least wish, consented re- luctantly. Therefore, they set a night when they knew the good King would be absent, to meet and bid farewell forever. Now Modred heard of this in some way, and laid his plans to entrap them. As Lancelot and Guinevere sat upon the Queen's couch In her boudoir, hand clasping hand, passion-pale In a very madness of farewells, there came a triumphant shout, and Modred's voice, crying: " Come out, traitor, you are trapped at last." Then Lancelot rushed forth with a roar like a wounded lion, and leaping upon Modred hurled him head foremost down the tower stairs, where he fell In a heap among his comrades, whom he had stationed at the foot for witnesses. " Alasl " sobbed the Queen, " now no sacrifice will avail. The end is come, and I am shamed forever." " Nay," said Lancelot, soothingly, striving to comfort her, " mine be the shame, for mine was the sin. But rise and come away with GUINEVERE 149 me to my strong castle over the sea. There will I hide thee and protect thee from all the world, till my life shall end." " No, Lancelot," returned the Queen sorrowfully. " All is at an end, we have taken our farewells. Would to God we had taken them sooner, and that I might hide from myself! Say no more, for mine is the shame; I was a wife, but thou art unwedded. Please Heaven you had wedded the lily maid of Astolat and departed moons ago! But I must fly ere my lord Arthur returns, for great will be his just anger. I shall get me secretly into the convent at Alms- bury, and there give myself to a life of prayer, hoping to receive, if possible, relief from the pain and shame that suffocate me. And I charge thee tell no man of my whereabouts." So in the silence of the night the humbled Queen stole away to the Almsbury sanctuary, and Lancelot fled with all speed to his own land, and the courtiers, not knowing, thought that they had flown together. Loosed were all the tongues of the Court and talk ran high, but not one of the scandal-mongers had courage to tell the noble King when he returned toward morning, wearied out with an unfruitful quest. Quickly they bethought themselves of the lateness of the hour and scurried silently away to their chambers. Slowly Arthur climbed the stairs, chilled to the bone with death- dumb, autumn-dripping gloom, and a nameless horror fell upon him, some great, over-hanging evil, which smote him three-fold as he noted with dismay that his beloved Queen's bower was dark as the night around. Then a form pressed close to him and clung sobbing at his feet, and when he questioned " What art thou? " it faltered forth: " Alas, I am Dagonet, thy fool, and I shall never make thee smile again." It was but too true. Dagonet, the merry court-jester, he who was wont to provoke the smiles of the weary and way-worn, was at heart a sorrowing, disappointed man, and he felt keenly how deeply the thrust of unfaithfulness from wife and trusted friend would probe into his master's noble heart. In a moment, the ter- 150 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING rible truth flashed upon the King, and he saw as though blazed in fire all that he had lately tried not to believe, for some of the whispers had occasionally reached his ear. With a low moan he turned heart-brokenly and bowed his head against the cold, silent wall, well-nigh bereft of reason that the two to whom he had given all of his mighty love, with whom he had exchanged vows of faith- fulness unto death, should thus prove false to him and to their God; nor did he give the slightest ear to the efforts at comfort which Dagonet, the jester, the least of all his knights, and yet the only one brave enough to come to him in his great trouble, essayed to give him. Meanwhile, Queen Guinevere, at the convent gates, tearfully pleaded for admission: "Mine enemies pursue me. O peaceful sisterhood, I pray ye to receive me into your fold that I may spend my life in prayer and pleading, for my sins are many and most bit- terly do I repent." Wrought upon by her grace and beauty, the gentle nuns con- sented, and at her request even forbore to ask her name. So for many weeks the Queen dwelt among them unknown, wrapped in grief, and communing only with a little maid, who, pleased by the strange lady's great beauty and pleasing manner, loved ever to hover near and wait upon her. But even in the quiet peacefulness of the convent the Queen did not find the oblivion and forgetful- ness of the world which she sought; forever and anon there floated through the sanctuary bits of news from the outside world, which the little maid loved to babble. First, after she had been there but a few days, the news came that the King was waging war against Lancelot in the fastness of his strong tower; then, and the Queen's very soul writhed within her, the cry was waged that while the King was absent. Sir Modred had leagued himself with the heathen and usurped the throne. " Woe is me ! " moaned the Queen to herself. " With what a hate the people and the King must hate me ! 'Tis all my fault. Had I been the true queen that Arthur thought me — aye! and GUINEVERE 151 deserved — then might the noble Order of the Round Table still be bright and flourishing, and goodness, purity, and beauty be reigning abroad in all the land! Peace be to my soul that knew not, or cared not, to distinguish the false from the true! O my maiden," turning beseechingly to the girl loitering near, " sing, I pray thee, something sad and sweet enough to unlock the sorrow that grips my heart. Sing, that the tears may come and cool my burning brain ere I go mad indeed! " And the little maid, half frightened by the wild words and man- ner of her beloved lady, lifted up her sweet voice and sang: "Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chilli Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. " No light had we ; for that we do repent, And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. "No light! so late! and dark and chill the night! O, let us in, that we may find the light! Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. "Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet? O, let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet! No, no, too late! ye cannot enter now." Memories fraught with the sweetness that might have been, concerning the time when first she came a bride to Camelot, pressed upon the Queen, and she bowed her head low upon her hands and shook with passionate, remorseful sobs. " Oh, I pray you, noble lady," cried the maiden, ceasing her song abruptly, more alarmed than ever, " weep no more. Let my words comfort your sorrows, for they do not flow from evil done; right sure am I of that, seeing your tender grace and stateliness. Weigh your sorrows with the King's, my lady, and see how much less they 152 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING be, for gone is he to wage grim war against Sir Lancelot in his strong castle by the sea where he holds our guilty Queen; and Modred, whom he left in charge of all, his own nephew, has turned traitor. O sweet lady, the King's grief for his own self, and his own Queen and realm must needs be thrice as great as any grief of ours ! Think, no matter how much he may desire to weep In silence, as we do here in quiet Almsbury, he cannot, for he is King, and all the world knows his grief and shame. He could not veil his Queen's wickedness if he would." "Sweet Heaven!" thought the Queen, "will the child kill me with her Innocent talk? " But aloud she answered, " Must not I, If the false traitor has displeased his lord, grieve in common with all his realm? " " Yea," replied the maiden sadly. " It is a grief for all women that she Is a woman, whose disloyal life hath wrought confusion in the Round Table which good King Arthur founded long years ago, with signs and miracles and wonders, at Camelot, ere the Queen came." The Queen writhed in anguish, as one upon a rack, and queried bitterly: " O little maid, shut in by nunnery walls, what canst thou know of kings and Round Tables, of signs and wonders, except it be the signs and simple miracles of the sanctuary? " " O my lady," answered the girl quickly, " I have not always lived here. My father was a friend of Arthur and rode to Came- lot from Lyonesse to be knighted at the founding of the Order. He told me many wonderful things, for in those days the land was full of signs and miracles straight from Heaven. He said that when he reached the turning, an hour, or perhaps two, after sun- set, he looked back in farewell along the coast toward Lyonesse and saw white-clad spirits spring forth, with beacon-stars upon their heads and wild sea-light about their feet, until all the headlands shone In flame like the rich heart of the west. And In the light the white mermaiden swam, and strong man-breasted things stood from the sea, and sent a deep sea-voice through all the land, to which the GUINEVERE 153 echoes made answer like a distant sounding horn. And further- more, the next morning, as he passed through dim-lit woods, he beheld three spirits mad with joy come dashing down on a tall way- side flower, that shoolc beneath their weight as a thistle shakes when three gray linnets wrangle for the seed. And in the evenings, the flickering fairy circle wheeled and broke in front of him, then flew and linked and broke again, and ever sped before him. And when at last he arrived at Camelot, a wreath of airy dancers hand in hand swung round the lighted lantern in the hall; and there was spread such a feast as never man had dreamed; for every knight was served with what he longed for most by hands unseen, and down in the cellars merry bloated things shouldered the spigot while the wine ran high. This you see was Arthur's realm, my lady, before the coming of the sinful Queen." " Aye," said the Queen, still bitterly, " if they were all so happy, and the land so full of signs, why was not some miracle shown fore- telling the doom in store if Guinevere came into the land? Why did not thy wise father, who was so apt in reading signs, foresee this?" •• O my lady," exclaimed the girl softly, " such wisdom was far beyond my gentle father. But there was one, a bard, well-skilled in making songs, who sang before the knights a glorious song of Arthur's wars, picturing the King as more than man, and railing at those who called him the false son of Gorlois. — For no man knows, my lady, from whence Arthur came. He was found one morning, after a great tempest, a naked child upon the sands of dark Tintagil by the Cornish sea. And they fostered him, and he grew up, and was proven the true King by a miracle, and so crowned. — The bard wove in all of this, my lady, and said that the King's grave, like his birth, should be a mystery from all men. Furthermore, he said that if the King could find a woman as great in her womanhood as he was in his manhood, they two might change the world. Then, in the midst of his song, he faltered and turned pale and well-nigh swooned away, and when he was recovered 154 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING would sing no more, neither would he tell to any one his vision — but, can you doubt, my lady, that he did not foresee the evil work of Lancelot and the Queen? " "Lo!" thought the Queen miserably, "our simple-seeming abbess and the nuns have found me out, and have sent this maiden to play upon me." Whereat she bowed her head in her hands and spoke no more. " Ah, sweet lady," murmured the maiden, breaking the silence, for to her, silence was made only to be broken, " have I vexed thee with my garrulous talk? If so, bid me be silent; for I do not wish to be a prattler and vex my father's memory — my father who was ever the noblest in manners, though indeed he would have it that Sir Lancelot's was the nobler. Pray check me, lady, if I ask amiss, but when you moved at Court — for I know by your grace and beauty you must sometime have dwelt in the halls of Arthur — which was the noblest, Lancelot or our lord the King? " Whiter, if possible, than before grew the Queen's sad face, but she made answer composedly: " Sir Lancelot, as became a noble knight, was gracious to all ladies, and in open battle or in the tourney-field always forebore to press his own advantage; and the King also did the same, and these two were the most noble man- nered men of all; for manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal nature and of noble mind." " If so," observed the maiden musingly, " then Lancelot must in truth be a thousand-fold less noble than his King, for, as rumor has It, he Is the most disloyal friend in all the world." " Aye, maiden," replied the Queen mournfully, " closed about by narrowing nunnery walls, thou knowest little of the world's lights and shadows, or of Its wealth and woes. If ever Lancelot, that most noble knight, were for one hour less noble than himself, pray for him that he escapes the doom of fire, and weep for her who drew him to his doom." " I do indeed pray for both, sweet lady," answered the novice earnestly. " But I could as soon believe Sir Lancelot as noble as GUINEVERE 155 his King as that you, my lady, could be as sinful as the hiding Queen." So, like many another babbler, the maiden hurt where she would soothe, and harmed where she would heal. But her last words proved a straw too many, and the Queen's anger broke beneath the load. "Traitress! " stormed Guinevere, with flushing face and stamp- ing foot. " Petty spy! Tool, set upon to plague and harry me! May such as thou become even as the Queen. Get thee hence ! " The last words roused the frightened maiden, who stood before the Queen white as her veil and as tremulous as foam upon the windy beach, and she turned and fled as though pursued by phantoms. Then Guinevere sank back upon her couch, hiding her face in her hands, her anger gone, saying to herself reproachfully: " The poor child meant nothing, but my own too fearful guilt betrays itself. Heaven help me, for surely I repent ! And what is true repentance but in thought — never again to think of the things that made the past so pleasant? And I have sworn never to see him more — never to see his face again. Ah, me ! " So sighing, and off her guard for the moment, the Queen's memory, from old habit, slipped back to the days when she had first met Sir Lancelot. How noble and true he had seemed when he came that day, reputed the best and goodliest man in the hall of Arthur, to act as ambassador to his King, and lead her forth to be a bride — the bride of the great King, Arthur Pendragon, whom as yet she had not seen ! How pleasant was the trip through the leafy woods and over the blossoming fields, where the mating birds sang joyously, and all the heavens seemed upbreaking through the earth! How she had enjoyed the company of the handsome, brilliant knight, and how pleasant had been their talk of sport and field and all the sweet thoughts of youth! Ah, me! if life could have been one long ramble over blue hyacinths and 'neath whisper- ing pines by the side of the courtly dark-haired Lancelot; if they 1^6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING could have wandered for aye and never come near the great, golden Pendragonship and the waiting, golden-haired King, who had proven such a high, self-contained lover! For Guinevere had never loved her husband. Hers was then a soul incapable of un- derstanding the great height and purity he had reached, and she had early tired of his loftly ideals. So she sat immersed in trance, moving through the past uncon- sciously, till on a sudden rang a cry throughout the quiet nunnery: "The King! The King!" Stricken stiff, the Queen listened to the mailed feet as they rang along the corridor, then fell from her seat prone upon the floor and veiled her face in her white arms, her golden hair unbound and floating all about her. Not once did the feet pause until they reached her side, then came a long silence, and at last, when she felt she could bear the suspense no longer, a voice spoke, so low, monotonous, hollow, and changed, that she scarce knew it for her lord's: " Liest thou here so low, the child of one I honored, dead before thy shame? Well it is that no child is born of thee! Thine off- spring are sword and fire, red ruin and the breaking up of laws, the craft of kindred and the godless hosts of heathen swarming o'er the Northern Sea! Knowest thou from whence I have come? From waging bitter war with Lancelot, my mightiest knight and erstwhile brother; and he that did not hesitate to smite me in the worst way, had yet the grace of courtesy left in him to stay his hand against the King who made him knight. But many a noble knight was slain, and all Lancelot's kith and kin have gone to abide with him; Modred has raised a revolt with many more who have chosen to forget their troth and fealty and cleave unto him, so I have only a remnant of my once glorious Round Table remaining. But of this remnant who still love and serve me I will spare enough to guard thee safely here, for there are wild times in store for the land. " Unless ancient prophecies err, I march now to meet my doom, as it has been foretold that one of mine own blood shall overthrow GUINEVERE 157 me. But thou hast not made my life so sweet to me that I, the King, should greatly care to live, for thou hast spoilt the purpose of my life. Oh, Guinevere, I was first of all the kings to raise the knight errantry of the realm and bind them into one company, the fair Order of the Round Table, a glorious band composed of the flower of men, and one well-fitted to serve as a model for the mighty world. I bound them to me with vows strait and severe; I made them lay their hands in mine and swear to reverence the King, as if he were their conscience, and their conscience as their King; to- break the heathen and uphold the Christ; to ride abroad redressing human wrongs; to speak no slander, no, nor listen to it; to honor their own word as if their God's, and lead sweet lives of purest chastity; to love one maiden only, cleave to her, and worship her with years of noble deeds, for I know of no more subtle master under heaven than a loving maiden to keep down the base in man and teach him high thought, amiable words, courtliness, desire for fame, and all that makes a man. And Guinevere, all this throve before I wedded thee, believing thee one to feel my purpose and be a true helpmate. But thy shameful sin with Lancelot corrupted all my Court, and smote all that my heart most desired; so that now I care not greatly if I lose my life. Think how sad it would be for me to sit within my lonely halls missing my noble knights and their accustomed tales of goodly deeds, as in the golden days before thy sm; and at Camelot and Uskthy darkened bowers would ever speak of thee and I should always hear thy light footfalls on the stairs and see thy shadow glide from room to room. For, Guinevere, think not because thou didst not love thy lord, that he has wholly lost his love for thee. I am not made of so slight ele- ments, yet I must leave thee, woman, to thy shame. Better the King's waste hearth and aching heart, than thou re-seated in thy place of light, the mockery of my people and their bane ! " For a moment the King paused, his voice too choked for speech,, and the miserable Queen crept forward and laid her hands about his feet, but she did not speak or unveil her saddened, tear-swept face. 158 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING The King had no idea of the great sea of remorse and repentance that seethed in her soul and paralyzed her tongue. In the distance a solitary trumpet blew, and the waiting war-horse below neighed joyfully, as though recognizing the voice of a friend. The sound roused the King, and he continued sorrowfully: — " Yet think not, Guinevere, that I have come to curse thee. I, whose vast pity almost makes me die to see thee laying thy golden head, that was once my pride, at my feet. Past is my flaming wrath and the pangs which made my tears burn, and lo, I forgive thee, as Eternal God forgives! Do thou for thine own soul the rest. " But how shall I take leave of all I loved? O golden hair, with which I used to play, not knowing! O beautiful womanhood — a kingdom's curse to Camelot! I cannot touch thy lips, they are not mine, but Lancelot's; nay, they never were the King's. I cannot take thy hand; that too is flesh, and in the flesh thou hast sinned. Nevertheless, O Guinevere, in spite of all, I love thee still! Let no man dream but that I love thee still! Perchance, if so thou purify thy soul and lean on our fair father Christ, here- after in that world where all are pure we two may meet before high God, and thou wilt spring to me, and claim me thine, and know I am thy husband. Leave me this last hope, I charge thee. " Now I must get me hence. Through the thick night I hear the trumpet blow. They summon me, their King, to lead to a great battle in the West, where I must strike against the man they call my sister's son — no kin of mine, who leagues with Lords of the White Horse, heathen and traitor knight! But I shall strike him dead, and meet myself with mine own mysterious doom, con- cerning which you shall hear in due time. Hither I shall never come again, never see thee more — Farewell ! " Then Guinevere felt the King's breath upon her neck, and knew that he bent low over her and spread his hands in unspoken blessing. Choking with sobs he turned and passed from the room, and still the heartbroken Queen made no sign. Low she groveled in GUINEVERE 159 despair till the last faint sound of the mailed feet had passed; then suddenly sprang into life, consumed with the desire to see his face and yet herself keep hidden. And lo! the King sat on his horse beneath her window, and round him was a group of nuns, each with a candle, listening eagerly, with glad compliance, to his charges concerning his beloved Queen, and how they were to guard and foster her forevermore. And as he spake to them his helm was lowered so that his face, which then was as an angel's was hidden from her; while above him, in his crest, the great Dragon of the Pendragonship blazed so brightly that all the night seemed a stream of fire, and the moony vapor rolled about the King and wound him in a sea of mist until his very form was hidden from the sight of her who gazed so yearningly. Then the blameless, white King moved away ghostlike to his doom, and the Queen's numbed tongue made a great effort at speech. " O Arthur," she called, extending her arms toward him beseech- ingly, but so hoarse and faint was her voice that it carried not even to the nuns below, and they gazed after the noble form of their King, unmindful of the stricken woman above them, who well-nigh died as the great remorseful waves of her sin swept over her, and she realized at last what Arthur was, and knew, too, that she loved him better than all else on earth. Who can measure the despair that was hers as she gazed in the direction her lord had gone? Only those, perhaps, who have drained to the dregs the bitter draught Too Late. " Gone, my lord," she moaned. " Gone through my sin, to slay and to be slain! And he forgave me, and I could not speak! Sweet heaven, I should have answered him, but his mercy choked me. How can it be farewell? Gone, my lord the King, my own true lord! But how dare I call him mine? The shadow of Lance- lot cleaves to me, and the King called me polluted. Woe is me! What shall I do? . . . Shall I kill myself? But what help in that? I cannot kill my sin, if soul be soul, nor can I kill my shame; no, nor by living can I live it down. The days will grow i6o THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING to weeks, the weeks to months, the months will add themselves and make the years, the years will roll into the centuries, and mine will ever be a name of scorn. I must not dwell on the defeat of fame. Let the world be; but what else have I? He spoke of a hope, unless it be he mocked me, his hope he called it; but he never mocks, for mockery is the fume of little hearts. Blessed be the King, who hath forgiven my wickedness, and left me hope that in mine own heart I can live down sin, and be his noble mate hereafter in the heavens before high God ! " Ah, great and gentle Arthur, lord to whom my false pride would not look up, I half despised the height to which I would not, or could not, climb. I thought I could not breathe in that fine air, that pure severity of perfect light; I yearned for the warmth and color which Lancelot gave me, but now I see thee as thou art. Thou art the highest and the most human, too ! Oh, is there none to tell the King I love him, though so late ? Now — ere he goes to the battle? Sweet heaven, none! I must live so that I myself may tell him in that purer life; now it were too daring. Ah, my God, what might I not have made of thy fair world, had I but loved thy highest creature here? It was my duty to have loved the highest; it surely was my profit had I known; it would have been my pleasure had I seen. Always we needs must love the highest when we see it." Here some one grasped her hands in warm supplication, and lifting her bowed head the Queen beheld the little novice weep- ing at her feet. " Yea, little maid," she said softly. " Arise, I forgive thee willingly, for am I not forgiven? " Then she became aware that the holy nuns were gathered around her, weeping, and her heart was loosed within her, and she wept with them, saying: "Ye know me then, that wicked one who broke the vast design and purpose of the King? O shut me round with narrowing nunnery-walls, and keep me from the voices cry- ing, ' Shame ! ' Yet let me not scorn myself, for he loves me still — let no one dream but that he loves me still. And, holy maidens^ GUINEVERE i6i if so ye do not shudder at me nor scorn to call me sister, let me dwell with you. I would wear the black and white, and be a nun like you, — fasting with your fasts, but not feasting with your feasts; grieving with your griefs; not grieving at your joys but still not rejoicing with them; mingling with all your sacred rites. I would pray and be prayed for. I would do each low office of your holy house, — walk your dim cloister, distribute dole to poor, sick people, and so wear out in alms-deed and In prayer the life which wrought the ruin of my lord, the King." And it came to pass as the Queen petitioned. The nuns gladly took her unto themselves, and she, half hoping, half fearing, pray- ing always, sought to free herself from sin. Finally the good abbess died, and Guinevere, because of her kindly deeds, her re- pentant life, and noble rank, was chosen to fill her place. For three years she ruled wisely and well, beloved by all, and then passed to that better land, where sin cannot enter in, her heart filled with the message she meant to deliver to Arthur. CHAPTER XI THE PASSING OF ARTHUR WHEN King Arthur rode forth from his farewell of the humbled Queen in the convent at Almsbury, his heart lay dead within him. He had lost faith in the world, and in himself, and, as he told the Queen, he did not greatly care to live. So he joined the main body of his faithful followers and moved with them toward that battle which was destined to take place in the West, and where it had been foretold that he would meet his doom. A great restlessness was upon him. He could not eat, and, though worn with the day's marches, he could not sleep, and spent the time listening in vain for the answer to that bitter cry echoed from the cross, " My God, my God, why hast thou for- saken me? " One night Sir Bedivere, the first of all the knights whom he had knighted, a faithful, trusty follower who never for one moment doubted his King, and one of the three whom Arthur sent to Leodogran with the request for his daughter's hand in marriage, being himself unable to sleep, came out and wandered among the pitched tents of the hosts. Something drew him near to the tent of his lord, and here he heard the King lamenting to himself over the failure of his life's work and purpose, saying that surely God had forsaken him, if, indeed, God cared for the world of men at all, for he, the King, had wrought and fought for God's cause all his life, and now wife, friend and people had betrayed him, and there was no sign that Heaven took any heed. And the heart of Bedivere was heavy within him, and he sought In vain for some comforting thought to offer. But, while he cudgeled his brains, Arthur himself stammered forth the words that had once given comfort to the Psalmist when the bitterness and heaviness of death 162 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 163 was upon him: " ' I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.' O Christ, I pass, but shall not die." And the King slept, but not in peace, for there came to him, blown lightly along the wind, the ghost of Gawain, who was killed in the war with Lancelot. As the frail phantom passed, it cried to him : "Hail, King! To-morrow thou shalt pass away. Farewell! There is an isle of rest for thee, but I am blown along a wandering wind. Hollow, hollow, hollow is all delight ! " The King waked with a start, crying: "Who spake? 'Twas the voice of Gawain in the wind. Was it a dream? Or doth all that haunt the wastes and wilds mourn, knowing that the end of the Round Table is at hand? " Sir Bedivere made quick to answer : " My King, let pass what- ever will, elves and the harmless glamor of the field, for yet thou shalt not pass. Light was Gawain in life, and light is he in death, for the ghost is as the man; care not thou for dreams of him, but rise. I hear the steps of Modred in the West, and with him are many of the knights, once thine, whom thou hast loved, but who are now grown grosser than the heathen, spitting on their vows and on thee. Right well in heart they know thee for the King. Arise, go forth and conquer as of old 1 " But the King answered him sadly, saying : " Far other is this battle whereto we move than when we strove in youth, and brake the petty things, and fought with Rome. Ill doom is mine to war against my people and my knights. The King who fights his peo- ple fights himself. The stroke that strikes them dead is as my death to me. But let us hence, and find or feel our way through this blind haze, which, ever since I left one lying in the dust at Almsbury, hath folded the paths of the world in darkness for me." So the King arose and girded on his armor while it was yet night, and summoned his willing hosts, and by their powerful aid pushed the forces of Modred, league by league, back to the west- ern boundary of Lyonesse. Here the long mountains ended in a i64 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING coast of shifting sand, and beyond this was the ever-restless sea. The traitors could flee no more, so turned on the waste sands by the hungry sea and there closed with the Knights of the Round Table in that last " weird battle of the West." Arthur had fought in many a battle, but never in one like this, A death-white mist swept over land and sea, and chilled the blood of friend and foe until their hearts were cold with formless fear. And even on Arthur fell confusion, since he saw not whom he fought; for friend and foe were shadows in the mist, and friend slew friend not knowing whom he slew. And all fought as men possessed; some were haunted by visions of golden youth, others were met by the faces of old ghosts upon the battle-field, and in the mist was done many a noble, knightly deed, and also many a base one. All the air was filled with the crash of splintering spears and the shattering of helm and harness under the blows of sword and battle-axe, and the shouts of those who prevailed mingled with the shrieks of the fallen, who looked to Heaven for the Christ, and saw only the mist, and heard only the oaths. Insults, and blas- phemies of the wounded heathen and traitorous knights, the prayers and cries for light, and the moans of the dying. All day long the forces swayed and struggled, until toward even- ing a dead hush fell upon the scene. Then a bitter wind came out from the North and blew the traitorous mist aside, and the moon rose clear and full over the battle-field. King Arthur got upon his feet, pale and unsteady, and glanced searchingly over the field, but no man was moving there, nor was any voice, either of Christian or heathen, heard thereon; all was deathly still, save the wild waves of the ocean. For the relentless tide was coming In, and surged among the dead faces, swaying the helpless hands to and fro and tumbling the hollow helmets of the dead. And the King swayed and would have fallen, but for the timely hand of Sir Bedivere, who alone of all his once glorious Round Table remained by his side. " Ah, Bedivere," cried the King, clinging gladly to his faithful THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 165 follower, whom he had not before observed, " thou art true and loyal still ! Hearest thou the voice of the sea as it beats upon the faces of the dead who died for me? Alas! on my heart hath fallen a great confusion; I know not what I am, or where I am, or whether I be King. Behold, I seem but King among the dead." " Aye," answered Bedivere boldly, " my King, King everywhere ! If the dead have kings, there also will I worship thee. But still thy life is whole, and still I live who love thee; but as for him who hates thee, he that brought the heathen back among us, behold yonder he stands unharmed, — Modred, the traitor of thy house," and he pointed scornfully to where Modred had lifted himself victoriously above a heap of slain. All the great King's heart was shaken by one last wild burst of wrath. " Call him not one of my house," he cried fiercely, grasping his sword, Excalibur. " No kin of mine is he who hath lifted up his hand against me in treachery. But thou sayest well in this dark hour of mine that for thee I still am King. Yea, I a7n the King, and thou shalt see one more deed worthy of a King before I go hence and am seen no more." Like a lion roused, he rushed upon the traitor. But Modred was ready and waiting, and gave him back blow for blow, in- flicting many grievous wounds upon his head. Then Arthur, sum- moning all his strength for a fatal blow, brought down Excalibur with mighty force and laid the rebel Modred dead at his feet, but he was well-nigh dead himself. In a trice Sir Bedivere was at the side of his fainting King, and bore him tenderly to a ruined chapel in a field near by. It «tood on a narrow strip of waste land, out of reach of the grasp- ing sea, which sought in vain to over-wash it from one side, while on the other a great mere shone brightly in the moonlight. Here at the foot of a broken cross, Bedivere gently laid the King and ministered unto him. Soon Arthur opened his blue eyes, and said weakly: "The sequel of to-day unsolders all the goodliest fellowship of famous i66 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING knights whereof this world holds record. They sleep — the men:. I loved — ," and a little later he whispered brokenly, " I perish by this people which I made." Then presently he seemed to gather strength, and roused him- self to talk to the sorrowful Bedivere. " Ah, Bedivere, my faith- ful knight and true, first and last of all my noble Round Table, never more shall we meet in joyous converse in the halls and gardens of Camelot ! All are dead, the men I loved. I made this realm and people, and they have been my death, though yet I hold by Merlin's prophecy that I shall come again to rule once more. But heed not thou the future. Urgent is the present need, for my wound is so deep that except some aid come I cannot live till morning. Do thou, therefore, take my good sword, Excalibur, which long ago was given me by the Lady of the Lake — thou re- memberest how the mystic arm rose up from the surface of the water, and gave the sword into my hand; and thou knowest also how Merhn bade me: 'Take thou and strike; the time to cast away is yet far off,' and I took it and did strike, not for my own glory, but for the glory of Christ, my Master; and now the time is at hand to cast away — therefore take Excalibur, I say, and haste thee to the brink of the mere, fling him therein as far as thou mayest, watch what befalls, and quickly bring me word again." " My King," answered Sir Bedivere earnestly, " it is not meet to leave thee here alone, for a little thing may harm a wounded man. Yet, if thou commandest, I can but obey. Quickly will I go, watch and see, and bring thee word." With all haste Sir Bedivere went forth from the ruined shrine, passing among the tombs that stood around it, where the bones of many mighty men lay moldering, and climbing by a rugged, zigzag path down the juts of pointed rock, he reached at last the shining levels of the lake. Here he drew the sword, Excalibur, and prepared to fling it into the lake. But, as he brandished it aloft, the moon came out from behind a cloud and sparkled in the keen frosty air upon the hilt, for the hilt was all encrusted wi^^^ THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 167 gems, — 'Sapphire, topaz, diamond, and jacinth, a miracle of jewel- work. And Bedivere was dazzled by the blinding light, and his purpose wavered for he could not bring himself to cast away a thing so precious. Therefore, he determined to leave Excalibur hidden among the many-knotted waterflags that whistled stiff and dry beside the water's edge, and so strode slowly back to the wounded King. "Hast thou performed my mission?" questioned Arthur quickly. "What hast thou seen or heard?" And Bedivere made answer, saying: " I heard the waters lap- ping on the rocks, and washing among the reeds." " Thou hast betrayed thy nature and thy name, not rendering true answer like a noble knight! " cried the King faintly. " It is a shameful thing for men to lie. Hadst thou done as I bade thee, there had been some sign, either hand or voice or motion of the water. But now I charge thee, as thou art lief and dear to me, go again quickly, and spare not to fling the sword. Watch what thou seest and bring me word." So Sir Bedivere went the second time across the ridge. But no sooner had he drawn Excalibur from the reeds, than it again seemed to him to be a sin and a shame to cast away so noble a sword. "What good can follow if I do this thing?" he asked himself. " What harm If I do It not? Much harm In disobedience, doubt- less; but would it be greatly wrong to disobey the King, now? Surely he Is sick with his wound, and knows not what he says. And If I throw the sword away, what relic or record of my lord Is left to after ages? Whereas, If Excalibur Is kept stored in a King's treasure-house, It will be much to King Arthur's worship and honor. It will prove an inspiration to men in the ages to come, and folks will marvel at It and say, ' King Arthur's sword, wrought by the maiden of the Lake In nine years' time!" Therefore, he hid Excalibur a second time, and went slowly back to the King. And Arthur, breathing heavily, asked him again: "What Is it thou hast seen or heard?" i68 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING " I heard the water lapping on the crag, and the long ripple washing In the reeds," answered Sir Bedlvere as before. Then was King Arthur wroth Indeed. " Ah, traitor, unkind, untrue ! " he cried scornfully. " Woe Is me ! Authority forgets a dying King. I see thee what thou art, for thou, the last of all my knights left to me, who should compass the love and loyal obedience of all, thou wouldst betray me for the sake of the precious hilt, either for the lust of the eyes or the lust of gold. But now, get thee hence once more, for though a man has twice failed In his duty, yet he may prosper the third time. Begone; only if this time thou sparest to fling Excallbur, I will arise and slay thee with mine own hands." Sir Bedlvere was filled with shame, and, rising quickly, he leaped down the path to the water's edge, snatched Excallbur from the bulrushes, and wheeling with shut eyes that he might not again be tempted, threw It with all his strength straight into the middle of the mere. Round and round the great brand flashed, making lightnings in the splendors of the moon, and whirling over in an arch like a streamer of light from the great Aurora of the North. But lo ! ere the sword could dip the wave, a mighty arm, clothed in mystic white samite, rose up from the bosom of the waters, caught the hilt, and, brandishing Excallbur three times, drew It under into the mere. Then was Sir Bedlvere filled with wonder and amaze- ment, and he hurried to the King. " Aye ! " cried Arthur, before he could find breath for speech, " I know by thine eyes that thou hast done my command. Tell me: what is It thou hast heard, or seen? " And he listened quietly while Sir Bedlvere told the wonder. Then he murmured heavily: " My end draws nigh; 'tis time that I were gone. Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, and bear me to the mere. I fear my wound hath taken cold, and that I shall die." Sir Bedlvere's eyes filled with tears, and he would have spoken but could find no words in which to clothe his remorse that hls^ disobedience should have In any way placed his lord's life in THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 169 jeopardy. Carefully he kneeled on one knee and taking the King's languid hands gently in his own, drew them over his shoulders, and so, rising, bore him upon his own broad back down to the water's edge. As they came near to the great mere, all shining in the winter moon's radiant glow, they beheld a dusky barge mov- ing toward them. Dark as a funeral scarf it was, from stem to stern, and the decks were thronged with black-clad forms whose faces were hidden in black hoods. And among them were three queens in crowns of gold — the same three queens who often came to Arthur in his hour of need — and from them rose a wailing cry of lamentation " that shivered to the tingling stars." *' Place me in the barge," said the King faintly, as the vessel came close to the shore. The bold Sir Bedivere obeyed wonderingly, giving up his pre- cious charge to the three queens, who stretched forth eager arms to receive their wounded King. The tallest and fairest of the queens took his head in her lap and unbound his casque, and all three fell to chafing his hands, calling him by name, and bathing his white face with bitter tears. And, indeed, the sight of him was very piteous, so pale and blood-stained was he, with his glorious curls all parched with dust and hanging with clotted points, — a very different King from the Arthur of old who rode in shining armor, like a star, leading his knights to the charge in war or tournament ! Then the barge put off from the shore, and Bedivere was left alone. " Ah, my lord Arthur," he cried heart-brokenly, " whither shall I go? Where shall I hide myself? For the old days are dead and knightly glory Is no more; the Round Table Is gone forever. There have been no such times as these since the Star led the three Wise Men to Bethlehem. But now they are gone, and thou, too, art leaving me, and I — must I go forth into the dark- ened days and live my life among strange men who know me not?" Slowly the King answered him from the barge: " The old or- I70 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING der changeth, yielding place to new, and God has many ways of accomplishing his purposes. Comfort thyself, for in me there is no comfort to trust in. My life's work is done, and I pray God to accept and purify it for Himself. And thou, if thou seest me no more, pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of; it is the golden chain that links this earth to Heaven and the throne of God. Men are little better than sheep and goats, if, knowing God, they lift not their heads in prayer. But now farewell. I am going a long way with these friends of mine. My mind is all dim, but methinks I go to the island-valley of Avalon, where never comes hail or snow or wind- storms, neither does the sun's heat burn there, but all things rest and thrive amid wooded meadows ringed round with the summer sea. And there will I heal myself of my grievous wounds." As the King ceased speaking, the barge moved away with oar and sail, " like some full-breasted swan that, fluting a wild carol ere her death, ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood with swarthy webs." Long Sir Bedivere stood and gazed until the hull looked like one black dot against the verge of dawn, and the wail- ing had died away. Many memories crowded each other, but, chief of all, he pondered on Merlin's weird rhyme: " From the great deep to the great deep he goes," And he wondered whether Arthur would ever come again, and whether the three dark queens in the black barge were not the same three who had stood beside Arthur, clothed in light, when he was crowned King. Then the stillness of the winter dawn oppressed him, and he groaned aloud: "The King is gone." But, as he climbed the jutting crags, he saw, or thought he saw, away in the distance, the barge, a mere speck on the verge of dawn. And as he looked, there was borne to his ears, from the far borders of the world, a triumphant sound of joyful welcome, as though the people of a great city, with one mighty voice, were rejoicing with music and singing over the coming of their King. As he strained his eyes beneath his arched hand, the speck vanished, and the sun burst forth THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 171 in all his glory, bringing the new year, with its new chances and triumphs. But Bedivere's heart was too sore for welcome, and he trudged away over the sands, himself also journeying into the unknown. IDYLLS OF THE KING IDYLLS OF THE KING IN TWELVE BOOKS "Flos Regum Arthurus" — Joseph of Exeter DEDICATION These to His Memory — since he With what sublime repression of him- held them dear, self, Perchance as finding there uncon- And in what limits, and how ten- sciously derly ; Some image of himself — I dedicate. Not swaying to this faction or to I dedicate, I consecrate with tears — that ; These Idylls. Not making his high place the lawless perch And indeed He seems to me Of wing'd ambitions, nor a vantage- Scarce other than my king's ideal ground knight. For pleasure; but thro' all this tract " Who reverenced his conscience as of years his king; Wearing the white flower of a blame- Whose glory was, redressing human less life, wrong; Before a thousand peering littlenesses, Who spake no slander, no, nor In that fierce light which beats upon listen'd to it; a throne, WTio loved one only and who clave And blackens every blot: for where to her — " is he. Her — over all whose realms to their Who dares foreshadow for an onty last isle, son Commingled with the gloom of im- A lovelier life, a more unstain'd, than minent war, his? The shadow of His loss drew like Or how should England dreaming of eclipse, his sons Darkening the world. We have lost Hope more for these than some in- him: he is gone: heritance We know him now: all narrow jeal- Of such a life, a heart, a mind as ousies thine, Are silent ; and we see him as he Thou noble Father of her Kings moved, to be, How modest, kindly, all-accomplish'd. Laborious for her people and her wise, poor — •^ ^ 176 IDYLLS OF THE KING Voice in the rich dawn of an ampler Break not, for thou art Royal, but day — endure, Far-sighted summoner of War and Remembering all the beauty of that Waste star To fruitful strifes and rivalries of Which shone so close beside Thee peace — that ye made Sweet nature gilded by the gracious One light together, but has past and gleam leaves Of letters, dear to Science, dear to The Crown a lonely splendor. Art, May all love, Dear to thy land and ours, a Prince His love, unseen but felt, o'ershadow indeed, Thee, Beyond all titles, and a household The love of all Thy sons encompass name, Thee, Hereafter, thro' all times, Albert the The love of all Thy daughters cher- Good. ish Thee, The love of all Thy people comfort Thee, Break not, O woman's-heart, but Till God's love set Thee at his side still endure; again! THE COMING OF ARTHUR Leodogran, the King of Cameli- But man was less and less, till Arthur ard, came. Had one fair daughter, and none For first Aurelius lived and fought other child; and died, And she was fairest of all flesh on And after him King Uther fought earth, and died, Guinevere, and in her his one delight. But either fail'd to make the kingdom one. And after these King Arthur for a For many a petty king ere Arthur space, came And thro' the puissance of his Table Ruled in this isle, and ever waging Round, war Drew all their petty princedoms Each upon other, wasted all the land ; under him. And still from time to time the Their king and head, and made a heathen host realm, and reign'd. Swarm'd overseas, and harried what was left. And so there grew great tracts of And thus the land of Cameliard wilderness, was waste, Wlierein the beast was ever more and Thick with wet woods, and many a more, beast therein, THE COMING OF ARTHUR 177 And none or few to scare or chase the For here between the man and beast beast; we die." So that wild dog, and wolf and boar and bear And Arthur yet had done no deed Came night and day, and rooted in of arms, the fields, But heard the call, and came: and And wallow'd in the gardens of the Guinevere King. Stood by the castle walls to watch And ever and anon the wolf would him pass; steal But since he neither wore on helm nor The children and devour, but now shield and then. The golden symbol of his kinglihood. Her own brood lost or dead, lent her But rode a simple knight among his fierce teat knights, To human sucklings; and the chil- And many of these in richer arms dren, housed than he. In her foul den, there at their meat She saw him not, or mark'd not, if would growl, she saw, And mock their foster-mother on four One among many, tho' his face was feet, bare. Till, straighten'd, they grew up to But Arthur, looking downward as he wolf-like men, past, Worse than the wolves. And King Felt the light of her eyes into his life Leodogran Smite on the sudden, yet rode on, and Groan'd for the Roman legions here pitch'd again. His tents beside the forest. Then he And Cassar's eagle: then his brother drave king, The heathen ; after, slew the beast, Urien, assail'd him : last a heathen and fell'd horde. The forest, letting in the sun, and Reddening the sun with smoke and made earth with blood. Broad pathways for the hunter and And on the spike that split the the knight mother's heart And so return'd. Spitting the child, brake on him, till, amazed. For while he linger'd there, He knew not whither he should turn A doubt that ever smolder'd in the for aid. hearts Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm But — for he heard of Arthur Flash'd forth and into war : for most newly crown'd, of these, Tho' not without an uproar made by Colleaguing with a score of petty those kings, Who cried, " He is not Uther's son " Made head against him, crying, — the King " Who is he Sent to him, saying, "Arise, and That he should rule us? who hath help us thou! proven him 178 IDYLLS OF THE KING King Uther's son? for lo! we look at Have power on this dark land to him, lighten it, And find nor face nor bearing, limbs And power on this dead world to nor voice, make it live." Are like to those of Uther whom we knew. This is the son of Gorlois, not the Thereafter — as he speaks who tells King; the tale — This is the son of Anton, not the When Arthur reach'd a field-of-bat- King." tie bright With pitch'd pavilions of his foe, the world And Arthur, passing thence to bat- Was all so clear about him, that he tie, felt saw Travail, and throes and agonies of The smallest rock far on the faintest the life, hill, Desiring to be join'd with Guine- And even in high day the morning vere ; star. And thinking as he rode, " Her So when the King had set his banner father said broad. That there between the man and beast At once from either side, with they die. trumpet-blast. Shall I not lift her from this land of And shouts, and clarions shrilling beasts unto blood. Up to my throne, and side by side The long-lanced battle let their horses with me? run. What happiness to reign a lonely And now the Barons and the kings king, prevail'd, Vext — O ye stars that shudder over And now the King, as here and there me, that war earth that soundest hollow under Went swaying; but the Powers who me, walk the world Vext with waste dreams? for saving Made lightnings and great thunders I be join'd over him. To her that is the fairest under And dazed all eyes, till Arthur by heaven, main might, 1 seem as nothing in the mighty And mightier of his hands with every world, blow, And cannot will my will, nor work And leading all his knighthood threw my work the kings Wholly, nor make myself in mine Carados, Urien, Cradlemont of own realm Wales, Victor and lord. But were I join'd Claudias, and Clariance of Northum- with her, berland, Then might we live together as one The King Brandagoras of Latangor, life. With Anguisant of Erin, Morganore, And reigning with one will in every- And Lot of Orkney. Then, before a thing voice THE COMING OF ARTHUR 179 As dreadful as the shout of one who Debating — '' How should I that am sees a king, To one who sins, and deems himself However much he holp me at mj' alone need, And all the world asleep, they Give my one daughter saving to a swerved and brake king, Flying, and Arthur call'd to stay the And a king's son ? " — lifted his voice, brands and call'd That hack'd among the flyers, "Ho! A hoary man, his chamberlain, to they yield! " whom So like a painted battle the war stood He trusted all things, and of him Silenced, the living quiet as the dead, required And in the heart of Arthur joy was His counsel: " Knowest thou aughti lord. of Arthur's birth ? " He laugh'd upon his warrior whom he loved And honor'd most. " Thou dost not doubt me King, u c- t^- u 1 1 11 c 11 *u- u ^u u^ t i^ir Kmg, there be but two old men bo well tame arm hath wrought lor , , Then spake the hoary chamberlain and said. me to-day." " Sir and my liege," he cried, " the fire of God Descends upon thee in the battle- field: I know thee for my King! " Where- at the two. For each had warded either in the fight, Sware on the field of death a death- less love. And Arthur said, " Man's word is God in man : Let chance what will, I trust thee to the death." Then quickly from the foughten field he sent Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere, His new-made knights, to King Leo- dogran, Saying, " li I in aught have served thee well, Give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife." that know And each is twice as old as I ; and one Is Merlin, the wise man that ever served King Uther thro' his magic art; and one Is Merlin's master (so they call him) Bleys, Who taught him magic; but the scholar ran Before the master, and so far, that Bleys, Laid magic by, and sat him down, and wrote All things and whatsoever Merlin did In one great annal-book, where after- years Will learn the secret of our Arthur's birth." To whom the King Leodogran re- plied, " O friend, had I been holpen half as well By this King Arthur as by thee to- day, Whom when he heard, Leodogran Then beast and man had had their in heart share of me: i8o IDYLLS OF THE KING But summon here before us yet once Was wedded with a winsome wife, more Ygerne: Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere." And daughters had she borne him, — one whereof, Then, when they came before him. Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, the King said, Bellicent, " I have seen the cuckoo chased by Hath ever like a loyal sister cleaved lesser fowl. To Arthur, — but a son she had not And reason in the chase: but where- borne. fore now And Uther cast upon her eyes of love : Do these your lords stir up the heat But she, a stainless wife to Gorlois, of war. So loathed the bright dishonor of his Some calling Arthur born of Gorlois, love, Others of Anton ? Tell me, ye your- That Gorlois and King Uther went selves, to war: Hold ye this Arthur for King Uther's And overthrown was Gorlois and son? " slain. Then Uther in his wrath and heat And Ulfius and Brastias answer'd, besieged " Aye." Ygerne within Tintagil, where her Then Bedivere, the first of all his men, knights Seeing the mighty swarm about their Knighted by Arthur at his crowning, walls, spake — Left her and fled, and Uther enter'd For bold in heart and act and word in, was he. And there was none to call to but Whenever slander breathed against himself. the King — So, compass'd by the power of the King, " Sir, there be many rumors on this Enforced she was to wed him in her head : tears, For there be those who hate him in And with a shameful swiftness: their hearts, afterward, Call him baseborn, and since his ways Not many moons, King Uther died are sweet, himself, And theirs are bestial, hold him less Moaning and wailing for an heir to than man: rule And there be those who deem him After him, lest the realm should go to more than man, wrack. And dream he dropt from heaven: And that same night, the night of the but my belief new year. In all this matter — so ye care to By reason of the bitterness and grief learn — That vext his mother, all before his Sir, for ye know that in King Uther's time time Was Arthur born, and all as soon as The prince and warrior Gorlois, he born that held Deliver'd at a secret postern-gate Tintagil castle by the Cornish sea, To Merlin, to be holden far apart THE COMING OF ARTHUR i8i Until his hour should come; because If Arthur were the child of shame- the lords fulness, Of that fierce day were as the lords Or born the son of Gorlois, after of this, death, Wild beasts, and surely would have Or Uther's son, and born before his torn the child time, Piecemeal among them, had they Or whether there were truth in any- known ; for each thing But sought to rule for his own self Said by these three, there came to and hand, Cameliard, And many hated Uther for the sake With Gawain and young Modred, Of Gorlois. Wherefore Merlin took her two sons, the child, Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, And gave him to Sir Anton, an old Bellicent; knight Whom as he could, not as he would, And ancient friend of Uther; and his the King wife Made feast for, saying, as they sat JN^ursed the young prince, and rear'd at meat, him with her own ; " A doubtful throne is ice on summer And no man knew. And ever since seas. the lords Ye come from Arthur's court. Vic- Have foughten like wild beasts among tor his men themselves. Report him ! Yea, but ye — think ■So that the realm has gone to wrack: ye this king — but now, So many those that hate him, and so This year, when Merlin (for his hour strong, had come) So few his knights, however brave Brought Arthur forth, and set him in they be — the hall. Hath body enow to hold his foemen Proclaiming, ' Here is Uther's heir, down .'' " your king,' A hundred voices cried, ' Away with " O King," she cried, " and I will him ! tell thee : few. No king of ours! a son of Gorlois Few, but all brave, all of one mind he, with him ; Or else the child of Anton, and no For I was near him when the savage king, yells Or else baseborn.' Yet Merlin thro' Of Uther's peerage died, and Arthur his craft, sat And while the people clamor'd for a Crown'd on the dais, and his war- king, riors cried, Had Arthur crown'd ; but after, the ' Be thou the king, and we will work great lords thy will Banded, and so brake out in open Who love thee,' Then the King in war." low deep tones. And simple words of great authority. Then while the King debated with Bound them by so strait vows to his himself own self. l'82 IDYLLS OF THE KING That when they rose, knighted from kneeling, some Were pale as at the passing of a ghost, Some flush'd, and others dazed, as one who wakes Half-blinded at the coming of a light. " But when he spake and cheer'd his Table Round With large, divine, and comfortable words, Beyond my tongue to tell thee — I beheld From eye to eye thro' all their Order flash A momentary likeness of the King: And ere it left their faces, thro' the cross And those around it and the Cruci- fied, Down from the casement over Arthur, smote Flame-color, vert and azure, in three rays, One falling upon each of three fair queens, Who stood in silence near his throne, the friends Of Arthur, gazing on him, tall, with bright Sweet faces, who will help him at his need. " And there I saw mage Merlin, whose vast wit Affld hundred winters are but as the hands Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege. " And near him stood the Lady of the Lake, Who knows a subtler magic than his own — Clothed in white samite, mystic, won- derful. She gave the King his huge cross- hilted sword. Whereby to drive the heathen out: a mist Of incense curl'd about her, and her face Wellnigh was hidden in the minster gloom ; But there was heard among the holy hymns A voice as of the waters, for she dwells Down in a deep; calm, whatsoever storms May shake the world, and when the surface rolls. Hath power to walk the waters like our Lord. " There likewise I beheld Excalibur Before him at his crowning borne, the sword That rose from out the bosom of the lake. And Arthur row'd across and took it — rich With jewels, elfin Urim, on the hilt. Bewildering heart and eye — the blade so bright That men are blinded by it — on one side, Graven in the oldest tongue of all this world, ' Take me,' but turn the blade and ye shall see. And written in the speech yc speak yourself, ' Cast me away ! ' And sad was Arthur's face Taking it, but old Merlin counsel'd him, * Take thou and strike ! the time to cast away Is yet far-off.' So this great brand the king Took, and by this will beat his foe- men down." THE COMING OF ARTHUR 183 Thereat Leodogran rejoiced, but A mother weeping, and I hear her thought say. To sift his doubtings to the last, and ' O that ye had some brother, pretty ask'd, one, Fixing full eyes of question on her To guard thee on the rough ways of face, the world.' " ^' The swallow and the swift are near akin. But thou art closer to this noble " Aye," said the King, " and hear prince, ye such a cry? Being his own dear sister;" and she But when did Arthur chance upon said, thee first? " " Daughter of GorloTs and Ygerne am I; " " O King! " she cried, " and 1 will ''And therefore Arthur's sister?" tell thee true: ask'd the King. He found me first when yet a little She answer'd, '' These be secret maid : things," and sign'd Beaten I had been for a little fault To those two sons to pass, and let Whereof I was not guilty ; and out I them be. ran And Gawain went, and breaking into And Hung myself down on a bank of song heath. Sprang out, and follow'd by his fly- And hated this fair world and all ing hair therein. Ran like a colt, and leapt at all he And wept, and wish'd that I were saw : dead ; and he — But Modred laid his ear beside the I know not whether of himself he doors, came, And there half-heard ; the same that Or brought by Merlin, who, they afterward say, can walk Struck for the throne, and striking Unseen at pleasure — he was at my found his doom. side, And spake sweet words, and com- And then the Queen made answer, forted my heart, " What know I ? And dried my tears, being a child For dark my mother was in eyes and with me. hair And many a time he came, and ever- And dark in hair and eyes am I ; and more dark As I grew greater grew with me ; Was Gorlois, yea and dark was and sad Uther, too, At times he seem'd, and sad with him Wellnigh to blackness; but this King w^as I, is fair Stern too at times, and then I loved Beyond the race of Britons and of him not, men. But sweet again, and then I loved Moreover, always in my mind I hear him well. A cry from out the dawning of my And now of late I see him less and life, less. i84 IDYLLS OF THE KING But those first days had golden hours And full of voices, slowly rose and for me, plunged For then I surely thought he would Roaring, and all the wave was in a be king. flame: And down the wave and in the flame was borne " But let me tell thee now another A naked babe, and rode to Merlin's tale : feet. For Bleys, our Merlin's master, as Who stoopt and caught the babe, and they say, cried 'The King! Died but of late, and sent his cry to Here is an heir for Uther! ' And me, the fringe To hear him speak before he left his Of that great breaker, sweeping up life. the strand. Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay Lash'd at the wizard as he spake the the mage; word. And when I enter'd told me that And all at once all round him rose himself in fire. And Merlin ever served about the So that the child and he were clothed King, in fire. Uther, before he died ; and on the And presently thereafter foUow'd night calm, When Uther in Tintagil past away Free sky and stars: 'And this Moaning and wailing for an heir, the same child,' he said, two ' Is he who reigns; nor could I part Left the still King, and passing forth in peace to breathe. Till this were told.' And saying Then from the castle gateway by the this the seer chasm Went thro' the strait and dreadful Descending thro' the dismal night — pass of death, a night Not ever to be question'd any more In which the bounds of heaven and Save on the further side ; but when earth were lost — I met Beheld, so high upon the dreary deeps Merlin, and ask'd him if these things It seem'd in heaven, a ship, the shape were truth — thereof The shining dragon and the naked A dragon wing'd, and all from stem child to stern Descending in the glory of the seas — Bright with a shining people on the He laugh'd as is his wont, and an- decks, swer'd me And gone as soon as seen. And then In riddling triplets of old time, and the two said : Dropt to the cove, and watch'd the great sea fall, Wave after wave, each mightier than " * Rain, rain, and sun ! a rainbow the last, in the sky! Till last, a ninth one, gathering half A j'oung man will be wiser by and the deep by; AND IN THE FLAME WAS BORNE A NAKED babe" —Page 18-}- THE COMING OF ARTHUR 185 An old man's wit may wander ere Doubted, and drowsed, nodded and he die. slept, and saw. Dreaming, a slope of land that ever Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow on grew, , • u , ,u ^l^g Ig^l Field after field, up to a height, the And truth is this to me, and that to Peak .|^gg. Haze-hidden, and thereon a phantom And truth or clothed or naked let it ^\"S, . , . , L Now looming, and now lost ; and on the slope ^ . , • I 1 1 f The sword rose, the hind fell, the Rain, sun, and rain! and the free ^^^^ ^^,^^ ^^.^^^^ blossom blows: Fire glimpsed ; and all the land from Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he ^^^^ ^^^ ^;^j^^ who knows:* j^^ ^^.jf^^ ^f ^^^^^ before a rolling From the great deep to the great deep • , , \\ IIIU, ^^ S^^^" Stream'd to the peak, and mingled with the haze " So Merlin riddling anger'd me; And made it thicker; while the phan- but thou tom king Fear not to give this King thine only Sent out at times a voice ; and here child, _ or there Guinevere: so great bards of him Stood one who pointed toward the will sing voice, the rest Hereafter; and dark sayings from of Slew on and burnt, crying, " No king old of ours, Ranging and ringing thro' the minds No son of Uther, and no king of of men, ^ ^ ours; " And echo'd by old folk beside their Xill with a wink his dream was fires changed, the haze For comfort after their wage-work Descended, and the solid earth be- is done, ^ came Speak of the King; and Merlin in As nothing, but the King stood out our time in heaven. Hath spoken also, not in jest, and Crown'd. And Leodogran awoke, sworn and sent Tho' men may wound him that he Ulfius, and Brastias and Bedivere, will not die, Back to the court of Arthur answer- But pass, again to come; and then or Jng yea. now Utterly smite the heathen underfoot, Then Arthur charged his warrior Till these and all men hail him for whom he loved their king." And honor'd most. Sir Lancelot, to ride forth She spake and King Leodogran re- And bring the Queen ; — and watch'd joiced, bim from the gates. But musing " Shall I answer yea or And Lancelot past away among the nay?" flowers, 1 86 IDYLLS OF THE KING (For then was latter April) and re- turn'd Among the flowers, in May, with Guinevere. To whom arrived, bj' Dubric the high saint, Chief of the church in Britain, and before The stateliest of her altar-shrines, the King That morn was married, while in stainless white, The fair beginners of a nobler time. And glorying in their vows and him, his knights Stood round him, and rejoicing in his joy. Far shone the fields of May thro' open door, The sacred altar blossom'd white with May, The Sun of May descended on their King, They gazed on all earth's beauty in their Queen, Roll'd incense, and there past along the hymns A voice as of the waters, while the two Sware at the shrine of Christ a deathless love: And Arthur said, " Behold, thy doom is mine. Let chance what will, I love thee to the death ! " To whom the Queen replied with drooping eyes, " King and my lord, I love thee to the death ! " And holy Dubric spread his hands and spake, " Reign ye, and live and love, and make the world Other, and may thy Queen be one with thee, And all this Order of thy Table Round Fulfil the boundless purpose of their King! " So Dubric said ; but when they left the shrine Great Lords from Rome before the portal stood, In scornful stillness gazing as they past; Then while they paced a city all on fire With sun and cloth of gold, the trum- pets blew, And Arthur's knighthood sang be- fore the King: — " Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May; Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll'd awaj'! Blow thro' the living world — * Let the King reign.' " Shall Rome or Heathen rule in Arthur's realm ? Flash brand and lance, fall battleax upon helm, Fall battleax, and flash brand! Let " Strike for the King and live! his knights have heard That God hath told the King a secret word. Fall battleax, and flash brand! Let the King reign. " Blow trumpet ! he will lift us from the dust. Blow trumpet! live the strength and die the lust! Clang battleax, and clash brand ! Let the King reign. " Strike for the King and die! and if thou diest, The King is King, and ever wills the highest. GARETH AND LYNETTE 187 Clang battleax, and clash brand! But Arthur spake, " Behold, for these Let the King reign. have sworn To wage my wars, and worship me . , . their King; " Blow, for our Sun is mighty in -phe old order changeth, yielding his May! place to new; Blow, for our Sun is mightier day ^^^j ^^ ^j^^^ flgj^,. foj. quj- fair father by day! , u ji Christ, Clang battleax, and clash brand! ggging that ye be grown too weak Let the King reign. ^nj old To drive the heathen from your "The King will follow Christ, ^^ R^?"^^" ^^.f' „ ^ ^,^ and we the King No tribute will we pay: so those In whom high God hath breathed a S^^^^ I'^'r , ^, ...^ L- Drew back in wrath, and Artnur secret thing. ^ vu t> _ Fall battleax, and flash brand! Let strove with Rome. the King reign." ^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^.^ knighthood for a space So sang the knighthood, moving to Were all one will, and thro' that their hall. strength the King There at the banquet those great Drew in the petty princedoms under Lords from Rome, him. The slowly-fading mistress of the Fought, and in twelve great battles world, overcame Strode in, and claim'd their tribute The heathen hordes and made a as of yore. realm and reign'd. THE ROUND TABLE GARETH AND LYNETTE LANCELOT AND ELAINE THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT THE HOLY GRAIL GERAINT AND ENID PELLEAS AND ETTARRE BALIN AND BALAN THE LAST TOURNAMENT MERLIN AND VIVIEN • GUINEVERE GARETH AND LYNETTE " How he went down," said Gareth, " as a false knight The last tall son of Lot and Belli- Or evil king before my lance if cent. lance And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful Were mine to use — O senseless cata- spring ract, Stared at the spate. A slender- Bearing all down in thy precipi- shafted Pine tancy — Lost footing, fell, and so was whirl'd And yet thou art but swollen with away. cold snows i88 IDYLLS OF THE KING And mine is living blood: thou dost His will, The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know, Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall Linger with vacillating obedience, Prison'd, and kept and coax'd and whistled to — Since the good mother holds me still a child! Good mother is bad mother unto me! A worse were better; yet no worse would I. Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force To weary her ears with one continu- ous prayer. Until she let me fly discaged to sweep In ever-highering eagle-circles up To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop Down upon all things base, and dash them dead, A knight of Arthur, working out his will, To cleanse the world. Why, Ga- wain, when he came With Modred hither in the summer- time, Ask'd me to tilt with him, the proven knight. Modred for want of worthier was the judge. Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said, ' Thou hast half prevail'd against me,' said so — he — Tho' Modred biting his thin lips was mute. For he is alway sullen : what care I ? " And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair Ask'd, " Mother, tho' ye count me still the child, Sweet mother, do ye love the child ? " She laugh'd. " Thou art but a wild-goose to ques- tion it." " Then, mother, an }'e love the child," he said, " Being a goose and rather tame than wild. Hear the child's story." " Yea, my well-beloved. An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs." And Gareth answer'd her with kindling eyes, " Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine Was finer gold than any goose can lay; For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours. And there w^as ever haunting round the palm A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw The splendor sparkling from aloft, and thought ' An I could climb and lay my hand upon it. Then were I wealthier than a leash of kings." But ever when he reach'd a hand to climb. One, that had loved him from his childhood, caught And stay'd him, " Climb not lest thou break thy neck, I charge thee by my love," and so the boy. Sweet mother, neither clomb, nor brake his neck. But brake his very heart in pining for it, And past away." GARETH AND LYNETTE 189 To whom the mother said, Albeit neither loved with that full " True love, sweet son, had risk'd love himself and climb'd, I feel for thee, nor worthy such a And handed down the golden treasure love : to him." Stay therefore thou; red berries charm the bird, And Gareth answer'd her with And thee, mine innocent, the jousts, kindling eyes, the wars, "Gold? said I gold? — aye, then. Who never knewest finger-ache, nor why he, or she, pang Or whosoe'er it was, or half the world Of wrench'd or broken limb — an Had ventured — had the thing I often chance spake of been In those brain-stunning shocks, and Mere gold — but this was all of that tourney-falls, true steel, Frights to my heart ; but stay : follow Whereof they forged the brand the deer Excalibur, By these tall firs and our fast-falling And lightnings play'd about it in the burns; _ storm, So make thy manhood mightier day And all the little fowl were flurried by day; at it Sweet is the chase: and I will seek And there were cries and clashings thee out in the nest. Some comfortable bride and fair, to That sent him from his senses: let grace me go." Thy climbing life, and cherish my prone year, Then Bellicent bemoan'd herself Till falling into Lot's forgetfulness and said, I know not thee, myself, nor any- " Hast thou no pity upon my loneli- thing. ness? Stay, my best son! ye are yet more Lo, where thy father Lot beside the boy than man," hearth Lies like a log, and all but smolder'd Then Gareth, " An ye hold me yet out! for child. For ever since when traitor to the Hear yet once more the story of the King child. He fought against him in the Barons' For, mother, there was once a Kmg, war, like ours. And Arthur gave him back his terri- The prince his heir, when tall and tory, marriageable. His age hath slowly droopt, and now Ask'd for a bride ; and thereupon the lies there King A yet-warm corpse, and yet unburi- Set two before him. One was fair, able, strong, arm'd — No more ; nor sees, nor hears, nor But to be won by force — and many speaks, nor knows. men And both thy brethren are in Arthur's Desired her ; one, good lack, no man hall, desired. 190 IDYLLS OF THE KING And these were the conditions of the King: That save he won the first by force, he needs Must wed that other, whom no man desired, A red-faced bride who knew herself so vile, That evermore she long'd to hide her- self, Nor fronted man or woman, eye to eye — Yea — some she cleaved to, but they died of her. And one — they call'd her Fame ; and one, — O Mother, How can ye keep me tether'd to you — Shame. Man am I grown, a man's work must I do. Follow the deer? follow the Christ, the King, Live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King — Else, wherefore born?" To whom the mother said, " Sweet son, for there be many who deem him not, Or will not deem him, wholly proven King — Albeit in mine own heart I knew him King, When I was frequent with him in my youth, And heard him Kingly speak, and doubted him No more than he, himself; but felt him mine. Of closest kin to me: yet — wilt thou leave Thine easeful biding here, and risk thine all, Life, limbs, for one that is not proven King? Stay, till the cloud that settles round his birth Hath lifted but a little. Stay, sweet son." And Gareth answer'd quickly, " Not an hour. So that ye yield me — I will walk thro' fire, Mother, to gain it — your full leave to go. Not proven, who swept the dust of ruin'd Rome From off the threshold of the realm, and crush'd The Idolaters, and made the people free? Who should be King save him who makes us free ? " So when the Queen, who long had sought in vain To break him from the intent to which he grew. Found her son's will unwaveringly one, She answer'd craftily, " Will ye walk thro' fire? Who walks thro' fire will hardly heed the smoke. Aye, go then, an ye must: only one proof, Before thou ask the King to make thee knight, Of thine obedience and thy love to me. Thy mother, — I demand." And Gareth cried, " A hard one, or a hundred, so I go. Nay — quick ! the proof to prove me to the quick! " But slowly spake the mother look- ing at him, " Prince, thou shalt go disguised to Arthur's hall. And hire thyself to serve for meats and drinks GARETH AND LYNETTE 191 Among the scullions and the kitchen- Swept bellowing thro' the darkness knaves, on to dawn, And those that hand the dish across He rose, and out of slumber calling the bar. two Nor shalt thou tell thy name to any- That still had tended on him from one. his birth, And thou shalt serve a twelvemonth Before the wakeful mother heard and a day." For so the Queen believed that when her son Beheld his only way to glory lead Low down thro' villain kitchen- vassalage, Her own true Gareth was too prince- ly-proud To pass thereby; so should he rest with her. Closed in her castle from the sound of arms. Silent awhile was Gareth, then replied, " The thrall in person may be free in soul, And I shall see the jousts. Thy son am I, And since thou art my mother, must obey. I therefore yield me freely to thy will ; For hence will I, disguised, and hire myself To serve with scullions and with kitchen-knaves; Nor tell my name to any — no, not the King." him, went. The three were clad like tillers of the soil. Southward they set their faces. The birds made Melody on branch, and melody in mid air. The damp hill-slopes were quicken'd into green. And the live green had kindled into flowers, For it was past the time of Easter- day. So, when their feet were planted on the plain That broaden 'd toward the base of Camelot, Far off they saw the silver-misty morn Rolling her smoke about the Royal mount. That rose between the forest and the field. At times the summit of the high city flash'd ; At times the spires and turrets half- way down Prick'd thro' the mist; at times the great gate shone Gareth awhile linger'd. The moth- Only, that open'd on the field be- er's eye low : Full of the wistful fear that he would Anon, the whole fair city had dis- go, appear'd. And turning toward him wheresoe'er he turn'd. Then those who went with Gareth Perplext his outward purpose, till an were amazed, hour. One crying, " Let us go no further, When waken'd by the wind which lord. with full voice Here is a city of Enchanters, built 192 IDYLLS OF THE KING By fairy Kings." The second echo'd him, " Lord, we have heard from our wise man at home To Northward, that this King is not the King, But only changeling out of Fairy- land, Who drave the heathen hence by sorcery And Merlin's glamour." Then the first again, *' Lord, there is no such city any- where. But all a vision." Gareth answer'd them With laughter, swearing he had gla- mour enow In his own blood, his princedom, youth and hopes, To plunge old Merlin in the Arabian sea; So push'd them all unwilling toward the gate. And there was no gate like it under heaven. For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave. The Lady of the Lake stood : all her dress Wept from her sides as water flowing awa}' ; But like the cross her great and goodly arms Stretch'd under all the cornice and upheld : And drops of water fell from either hand ; And down from one a sword was hung, from one A censer, either worn with wind and storm ; And o'er her breast floated the sacred fish; And in the space to left of her, and right, Were Arthur's wars in weird devices done, New things and old co-twisted, as if Time Were nothing, so inveterately, that men Were giddy gazing there; and over all High on the top were those three Queens, the friends Of Arthur, who should help him at his need. Then those with Gareth for so long a space Stared at the figures, that at last it seem'd The dragon-boughts and elvish em- blemings Began to move, seethe, twine and curl : they call'd To Gareth, " Lord, the gateway is 1 ■ " alive. And Gareth likewise on them fixt his eyes So long, that ev'n to him they seem'd to move. Out of the city a blast of music peal'd. Back from the gate started the three, to whom From out thereunder came an ancient man, Long-bearded, saying, " Who be ye, m}^ sons ? " Then Gareth, "We be tillers of the soil, Who leaving share in furrow come to see The glories of our King: but these, my men, (Your city moved so weirdly in the mist) GARETH AND LYNETTE 193 Doubt if the King be King at all, or A man should not be bound by, yet come the which From Fairyland ; and whether this be No man can keep ; but, so thou dread built to swear, By magic, and by fairy Kings and Pass not beneath this gateway, but Queens ; abide Or whether there be any city at all, Without, among the cattle of the Or all a vision: and this music now field. Hath scared them both, but tell thou For an ye heard a music, like enow these the truth." They are building still, seeing the city is built To music, therefore never built at all. And therefore built forever." Gareth spake Anger'd, " Old Master, reverence . , , . , . . thine own beard And solid turrets topsy-turvy m air: nrK^^ i^„i.^ „. kv .... ^ ^u .,, . iL -1 ^ f'^t looks as white as utter truth, And here is truth; but an it please 1 seem^ Then that old Seer made answer playing on him And saying, " Son, I have seen the good ship sail Keel upward, and mast downward, in the heavens, thee not, Take thou the truth as thou hast told it me. For truly as thou sayest, a Fairy King And Fairy Queens have built the city, son ; They came from out a sacred moun- tain-cleft Toward the sunrise, each with harp in hand. And built it to the music of their harps Wellnigh as long as thou art statured tall! Why mockest thou the stranger that hath been To thee fair-spoken?" But the Seer replied, " Know ye not then the Riddling of the Bards? ' Confusion, and illusion, and rela- tion. Elusion, and occasion, and evasion ' ? And, as thou sayest, it is enchanted, I mock thee not but as thou mockest son, me. For there is nothing in it as it seems And all that see thee, for thou art Saving the King; tho' some there be not ^^ho that hold The King a shadow, and the city real: Yet take thou heed of him, for, so thou pass Beneath this archway, then wilt thou become A thrall to his enchantments, for the King Will bind thee by such vows, as is a Turn'd to the right, and past along shame the plain; Thou seemest, but I know thee who thou art. And now thou goest up to mock the King, Who cannot brook the shadow of any 1 • )> lie, Unmockingly the mocker ending here 194 IDYLLS OF THE KING Whom Gareth looking after said, Throned, and delivering doom — and " My men, look'd no more — Our one white lie sits like a little But felt his young heart hammering ghost in his ears, Here on the threshold of our enter- And thought, " For this half-shadow prise. of a lie Let love be blamed for it, not she, The truthful King will doom me nor I : when I speak." Well, we will make amends." Yet pressing on, tho' all in fear to find With all good cheer Sir Gawain or Sir Modred, saw nor He spake and laugh'd, then enter'd one with his twain Nor other, but in all the listening Camelot, a city of shadowy palaces eyes And stately, rich in emblem and the Of those tall knights, that ranged work about the throne, Of ancient kings who did their days Clear honor shining like the dewy in stone; star Which Merlin's hand, the Mage at Of dawn, and faith in their great Arthur's court, King, with pure Knowing all arts, had touch'd, and Aifection, and the light of victory, everyv/here And glory gain'd, and evermore to At Arthur's ordinance, tipt with gain. lessening peak And pinnacle, and had made it spire Then came a widow crying to the to heaven. King, And ever and anon a knight would "A boon, Sir King! Thy father, pass Uther, reft Outward, or inward to the hall: his From my dead lord a field with vio- arms lence : Clash'd; and the sound was good to For howsoe'er at first he proffer'd Gareth's ear. gold, And out of bower and casement shyly Yet, for the field was pleasant in our glanced eyes, Eyes of pure women, wholesome stars We yielded not; and then he reft us of love; of it And all about a healthful people Perforce, and left us neither gold stept nor field." As in the presence of a gracious king. Said Arthur: "Whether would Then into hall Gareth ascending ye? gold or field?" heard To whom the woman weeping, A voice, the voice of Arthur, and be- " Nay my lord, held The field was pleasant in my hus- Far over heads in that long-vaulted band's eye." hall The splendor of the presence of the And Arthur, " Have thy pleasant King field again, A CITY OF SHADOWY PALACES" Page 194- GARETH AND LYNETTE 19S And thrice the gold for Uther's use "A boon, Sir King! ev'n that thou thereof, grant her none. According to the years. No boon is This railer, that hath mock'd thee in here, full hall — But justice, so thy say be proven true. None; or the wholesome boon of Accursed, who from the wrongs his gyve and gag." father did Would shape himself a right!" But Arthur, "We sit King, to help the wrong'd And while she past, Thro' all our realm. The woman Came yet another widow crying to loves her lord. hJm Peace to thee, woman, with thy loves "A boon. Sir King! Thine enemy, and hates! King, am I. The kings of old had doom'd thee to With thine own hand thou slewest the flames, my dear lord, Aurelius Emrys would have scourged A knight of Uther in the Barons' thee dead, war, And Uther slit thy tongue: but get When Lot and many another rose thee hence — and fought Lest that rough humor of the kings Against thee, saying thou wert basely of old born. Return upon me! Thou that art I held with these, and loathe to ask her kin, thee aught. Go likewise; lay him low and slay Yet lo! my husband's brother had him not, mv son But bring him here, that I may judge Thrall'd in his castle, and hath the right, starved him dead; According to the justice of the Kmg: And standeth seized of that inherit- Then, be he guilty, by that deathless ance King Which thou that slewest the sire hast Who lived and died for men, the left the son. man shall die." So tho' I scarce can ask it thee for hate, Then came in hall the messenger Grant me some knight to do the bat- of Mark, tie for me, A name of evil savor in the land, Kill the foul thief, and wreak me for The Cornish king. In either hand my son.' he bore , , , . „ What dazzled all, and shone far-ott Then strode a good knight for- as shines ward, crying to him, A field of charlock in the sudden "A boon, Sir King! I am her kins- sun nian, L Between two showers, a cloth of Give me to right her wrong, and palest gold, slay the man." Which down he laid before the throne, and knelt, Then came Sir Kay, the seneschal, Delivering, that his lord, the vassal and cried, king, 196 IDYLLS OF THE KING Was ev'n upon his way to Camelot; For having heard that Arthur of his grace Had made his goodly cousin, Tris- tram, knight, And, for himself was of the greater state, Being a king, he trusted his liege- lord Would yield him this large honor all the more; So pray'd him well to accept this cloth of gold. In token of true heart and fealty. Then Arthur cried to rend the cloth, to rend In pieces, and so cast it on the hearth. An oak-tree smolder'd there. " The goodly knight! What! shall the shield of Mark stand among these?" For, midway down the side of that long hall A stately pile, — whereof along the front, Some blazon'd, some but carven, and some blank. There ran a treble range of stony shields, — Rose, and high-arching overbrow'd the hearth. And under every shield a knight was named: For this was Arthur's custom in his hall ; When some good knight had done one noble deed. His arms were carven only; but if twain His arms were blazon'd also; but if none, The shield was blank and bare with- out a sign Saving the name beneath; and Gar- eth saw The shield of Gawain blazon'd rich and bright. And Modred's blank as death; and Arthur cried To rend the cloth and cast it on the hearth. " More like are we to reave him of his crown Than make him knight because men call him king. The kings we found, ye know we stay'd their hands From war among themselves, but left them kings ; Of whom were any bounteous, mer- ciful. Truth-speaking, brave, good livers, them we enroU'd Among us, and they sit within our hall. But Mark hath tarnish'd the great name of king, As Mark would sully the low state of churl: And, seeing he hath sent us cloth of gold. Return, and meet, and hold him from our eyes, Lest we should lap him up in cloth of lead. Silenced forever — craven — a man of plots. Craft, poisonous counsels, wayside ambushings — No fault of thine: let Kay the senes- chal Look to thy wants, and send thee satisfied — Accursed, who strikes nor lets the hand be seen ! " And many another suppliant crying came With noise of ravage wrought by beast and man, And evermore a knight would ride awav. GARETH AND LYNETTE 197 Last, Gareth leaning both hands A horse thou knowest, a man thou heavily dost not know: Down on the shoulders of the twain, Broad brows and fair, a fluent hair his men, and fine, Approach'd between them toward the High nose, a nostril large and fine. King, and ask'd, and hands "A boon, Sir King (his voice was Large, fair and fine! — Some young all ashamed), lad's mystery — For see ye not how weak and hun- But, or from sheepcot or king's hall, ger-worn the boy I seem — leaning on these? grant me Is noble-natured. Treat him with to serve all grace, For meat and drink among thy Lest he should come to shame thy kitchen-knaves judging of him." A twelvemonth and a day, nor seek my name. Then Kay, " What murmurest Hereafter I will fight." thou of mystery? Think ye this fellow will poison the To him the King, king's dish? "'A goodly youth and worth a Nay, for he spake too fool-like: goodlier boon! mystery! But so thou wilt no goodlier, then Tut, an the lad were noble, he had must Kay, ^^^ " The master of the meats and drinks, For horse and armor: fair and fine, be thine." . forsooth! Sir Fine-face, Sir Fair-hands? but Hj ^ ^u T^ see thou to it e rose and past: then Kay, a man ^^, , . ^ , . f . 1 hat thme own nneness, Lancelot, of mien f[ a Wan-sallow as the plant that feels tt / i i i • If Undo thee not — and leave my man Root-bitten by white lichen, So Gareth all for glory underwent Lo ye now. The sooty yoke of kitchen-vassalage; This fellow hath broken from some Ate with young lads his portion by Abbey, where, the door, God wot, he had not beef and brewis And couch'd at night with grimy ^^ow, kitchen-knaves. However that might chance! but an And Lancelot ever spake him pleas- he work, antlv, Like any pigeon will I cram his crop. But Kay the seneschal, who loved him And sleeker shall he shine than any ^Qf '^^S- Would hustle and harry him, and labor him Then Lancelot standing near, " Sir Beyond his comrade of the hearth, Seneschal, and set Sleuth-hound thou knowest, and To turn the broach, draw water, or gray, and all the hounds; hew wood, 198 IDYLLS OF THE KING Or grosser tasks; and Gareth bow'd Lying or sitting round him, idle himself hands, With all obedience to the King, and Charm'd ; till Sir Kay, the seneschal, wrought would come All kind of service with a noble ease Blustering upon them, like a sudden That graced the lowliest act in doing wind it. Among dead leaves, and drive them And when the thralls had talk among all apart. themselves, Or when the thralls had sport among And one would praise the love that themselves, linkt the King So there were any trial of mastery. And Lancelot — how the King had He, by two yards in casting bar or saved his life stone In battle twice, and Lancelot once Was counted best; and if there the King's — chanced a joust. For Lancelot was the first in Tour- So that Sir Kay nodded him leave nament, to go, But Arthur mightiest on the battle- Would hurry thither, and when he field — saw the knights Gareth was glad. Or if some other Clash like the coming and retiring told, wave. How once the wandering forester at And the spear spring, and good dawn, horse reel, the boy Far over the blue tarns and hazy Was half beyond himself for ecstasy. seas, On Caer-Eryri's highest found the So for a month he wrought among King, the thralls ; A naked babe, of whom the Prophet But in the weeks that foUow'd, the spake, good Queen, ' He passes to the Isle Avillon, Repentant of the w-ord she made him He passes and is heal'd and cannot swear, die ' — And saddening in her childless cas- Gareth was glad. But if their talk tie, sent, were foul. Between the in-crescent and de-cres- Then would he whistle rapid as any cent moon, lark, Arms for her son, and loosed him Or carol some old roundelay, and so from his vow. loud That first they mock'd, but, after. This, Gareth hearing from a reverenced him. squire of Lot Or Gareth telling some prodigious With whom he used to play at tour- tale ney once, Of knights, who sliced a red life- When both w-ere children, arnl in bubbling way lonely haunts Thro' twenty folds of twisted drag- Would scratch a ragged oval on the on held sand. All in a gap-mouth'd circle his good And each at either dash from either mates end — GARETH AND LYNETTE 199 Shame never made girl redder than No mellow master of the meats and Gareth joy. drinks! He laugh'd ; he sprang. " Out of And as for love, God wot, I love not the smoke, at once yet, I leap from Satan's foot to Peter's But love I shall, God willing." knee — These news be mine, none other's — And the King nay, the King's— "Make thee my knight in secret? Descend into the city:" whereon he yea, but he, sought Our noblest brother, and our truest The Kmg alone, and found, and told man, ^'™ ^1^- And one with me in all, he needs must know." " I have stagger'd thy strong Gawain in a tilt " Let Lancelot know, my King, For pastime; yea, he said it: joust let Lancelot know, ^^" !• Thy noblest and thy truest ! " Make me thy knight — in secret! let my name And the King — Be hidd n, and give me the first quest, " But wherefore would ye men I spring should wonder at you? Like flame from ashes." Nay, rather for the sake of me, their King, Here the King's calm eye And the deed's sake my knighthood Fell on, and check'd, and made him do the deed, flush, and bow Than to be noised of." Lowly, to kiss his hand, who an- ,, swer'd him, Merrily Gareth ask'd. Son, the good mother let me know " Have I not earn'd my cake in bak- thee here, fng of it? And sent her wish that I would yield Let be my name until I make my thee thine. name! Make thee my knight? my knights My deeds will speak: it is but for a are sworn to vows day." Of utter hardihood, utter gentleness. So with a kindly hand on Gareth's And, loving, utter faithfulness in arm l°v^> Smiled the great King, and half-un- And uttermost obedience to the willingly ^'"g- Loving his lusty youthhood yielded to him. Then Gareth, lightly springing Then, after summoning Lancelot from his knees, privily, ^* My King, for hardihood I can "I have given him the first quest: promise thee. he is not proven. For uttermost obedience make de- Look therefore when he calls for this mand in hall, Of whom ye gave me to, the Senes- Thou get to horse and follow him far chal, away. 200 IDYLLS OF THE KING Cover the lions on thy shield, and And comely, yea, and comelier than see myself. Far as thou mayest, he be nor ta'en She lives in Castle Perilous: a river nor slain." Runs in three loops about her living- place ; Then that same day there past into And o'er it are three passings, and the hall three knights A damsel of high lineage, and a brow Defend the passings, brethren, and a May-blossom, and a cheek of apple- fourth blossom, And of that four the mightiest, holds Hawk-eyes; and lightly was her slen- her stay'd der nose In her own castle, and so besieges Tip-tilted like the petal of a flower; her She into hall past with her page and To break her will, and make her wed cried, with him : And but delays his purport till thou " O King, for thou hast driven the send foe without, To do the battle with him, thy chief See to the foe within ! bridge, ford, man beset Sir Lancelot whom he trusts to over- By bandits, everyone that owns a throw, tower Then wed, with glory: but she will The Lord for half a league. Why not wed sit ye there? Save whom she lovcth, or a holy life. Rest would I not. Sir King, an I Now therefore have I come for were king, Lancelot." Till ev'n the lonest hold were all as free Then Arthur mindful of Sir From cursed bloodshed, as thine Gareth ask'd, altar-cloth " Damsel, ye know this Order lives From that best blood it is a sin to to crush spill." All wrongers of the Realm. But say, these four, "Comfort thyself," said Arthur, Who be they? What the fashion of " I nor mine the men? " Rest: so my knighthood keep the vows they swore, " They be of foolish fashion, O The wastest moorland of our realm Sir King, shall be The fashion of that old knight- Safe, damsel, as the center of this errantry hall. Who ride abroad, and do but what What is thy name? thy need?" they will; Courteous or bestial from the mo- " My name? " she said — ment, such " Lynette my name; noble; my need, As have nor law nor king; and three a knight of these To combat for my sister, Lyonors, Proud in their fantasy call themselves A lady of high lineage, of great lands, the Day, GARETH AND LYNETTE 20 1 Morning-Star, and Noon-Sun, and Evening-Star, Being strong fools; and never a whit more wise The fourth, who alway rideth arm'd in black, A huge man-beast of boundless sav- agery. He names himself the Night and oftener Death, And wears a helmet mounted with a skull. And bears a skeleton figured on his arms. To show that who may slay or scape the three. Slain by himself, shall enter endless night. And all these four be fools, but mighty men. And therefore am I come for Lance- lot." Hereat Sir Gareth call'd from where he rose A head with kindling eyes above the throng, "A boon. Sir King — this quest!" then — for he mark'd Kay near him groaning like a wounded bull — " Yea, King, thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am I, And mighty thro' thy meats and drinks am I, And I can topple over a hundred such. Thy promise, King," and Arthur glancing at him, Brought down a momentary brow. "Rough, sudden, And pardonable, worthy to be knight — Go therefore," and all hearers were amazed. But on the damsel's forehead shame, pride, wrath Slew the May-white: she lifted either arm, " Fie on thee. King! I ask'd for thy chief knight, And thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave." Then ere a man in hall could stay her, turn'd, Fled down the lane of access to the King, Took horse, descended the slope street, and past The weird white gate, and paused without, beside The field of tourney, murmuring " kitchen-knave." Now two great entries open'd from the hall, At one end one, that gave upon a range Of level pavement where the King would pace At sunrise, gazing over plain and wood ; And down from this a lordly stair- way sloped Till lost in blowing trees and tops of towers ; And out by this main doorway past the King. But one was counter to the hearth, and rose High that the highest-crested helm could ride Therethro' nor graze: and by this entry fled The damsel in her wrath, and on to this Sir Gareth strode, and saw without the door King Arthur's gift, the worth of half a town, A warhorse of the best, and near it stood The two that out of north had fol- low'd him: 202 IDYLLS OF THE KING This bare a maiden shield, a casque; that held The horse, the spear; whereat Sir Gareth loosed A cloak that dropt from collar-bone to heel, A cloth of roughest web, and cast it down. And from it like a fuel-smother'd fire, That lookt half-dead, brake bright, and flash'd as those Dull-coated things, that making slide apart Their dusk wing-cases, all beneath there burns A jewel'd harness, ere thev pass and fly. So Gareth ere he parted flash'd in arms. Then as he donn'd the helm, and took the shield And mounted horse and graspt a spear, of grain Storm-strengthen'd on a windy site, and tipt With trenchant steel, around him slowly prest The people, while from out of kitchen came The thralls in throng, and seeing who had work'd Lustier than any, and whom they could but love, Mounted in arms, threw up their caps and cried, " God bless the King, and all his fellowship ! " And on thro' lanes of shouting Gareth rode Down the slope street, and past with- out the gate. So Gareth past with joy; but as the cur Pluckt from the cur he fights with, ere his cause Be cool'd by fighting, follows, being named. His owner, but remembers all, and growls Remembering, so Sir Kay beside the door Mutter'd in scorn of Gareth whom he used To harry and hustle. " Bound upon a quest With horse and arms — the King hath past his time — My scullion knave! Thralls to your work again. For an your fire be low ye kindle mine! Will there be dawn in West and eve in East? Begone! — my knave! — belike and like enow Some old head-blow not heeded in his youth So shook his wits they wander in his prime — Crazed! How the villain lifted up his voice. Nor shamed to bawl himself a kitchen-knave. Tut: he was tame and meek enow with me. Till peacock'd up with Lancelot's noticing. Well — I will after my loud knave, and learn Whether he know me for his master yet. Out of the smoke he came, and so my lance Hold, by God's grace, he shall into the mire — Thence, if the King awaken from his craze, Into the smoke again." But Lancelot said, " Ka}', wherefore wilt thou go against the King, GARETH AND LYNETTE 203 For that did never he whereon ye And look who comes behind," for rail, there was Kay. But ever meekly served the King in " Knowest thou not me? thy master? thee? I am Kay. Abide: take counsel; for this lad is We lack thee by the hearth." great And lusty, and knowing both of lance and sword." " Tut, tell not me," said Kay, "ye are overfine To mar stout knaves with foolish courtesies: " Then mounted, on thro' silent faces rode Down the slope city, and out beyond the gate. And Gareth to him, " Master no more ! too well I know thee, aye — The most ungentle knight in Arthur's hall." " Have at thee then," said Kay: they shock'd, and Kay Fell shoulder-slipt, and Gareth cried again, " Lead, and I follow," and fast away she fled. But by the field of tourney linger- ing yet But after sod and shingle ceased Mutter'd the damsel, "Wherefore r>i-ji luu ru j A' A th TT" Uehmd her, and the heart of her good did the King Scorn me? for, were Sir Lancelot lackt, at least horse Was nigh to burst with violence of the beat. He might have yielded to me one of t» j- , ,, , , 1 -^ rerforce she stay d, and overtaken spoke. " What doest thou, scullion, in my fellowship? Deem'st thou that I accept thee aught the more Or love thee better, that by some de- vice Who tilt for lady's love and glory here. Rather than — O sweet heaven ! O fie upon him — His kitchen-knave." To whom Sir Gareth drew (And there were none but few YuW cowardly, or by mere unhappi- goodlier than he) ^^^^^ Shining in arms, " Damsel, the quest ^hou hast overthrown and slain thv IS mme. master thou ! — Lead, and I follow." She thereat, Dish-washer and broach-turner, loon! ^^ ^"^ — to me That smells a foul-flesh'd agaric in ^^^^ smellest all of kitchen as be- the holt, £Qj.g » And deems it carrion of some wood- land thing, " Damsel," Sir Gareth answer'd Or shrew, or weasel, nipt her slender gently, " say nose • Whate'er ye will, but whatsoe'er ye With petulant thumb and finger, say, shrilling, "Hence! I leave not till I finish this fair Avoid, thou smellest all of kitchen- quest, grease. Or die therefore." 204 IDYLLS OF THE KING "Aye, wilt thou finish it? Sweet lord, how like a noble knight he talks! The listening rogue hath caught the manner of it. But, knave, anon thou shalt be met with, knave. And then by such a one that thou for all The kitchen brewis that was ever supt Shalt not once dare to look him in the face." " I shall assay," said Gareth with a smile That madden'd her, and away she flash'd again Down the long avenues of a bound- less wood. And Gareth, following was again be- knaved. " Sir Kitchen-knave, I have miss'd the only way Where Arthur's men are set along the wood ; The wood is nigh as full of thieves as leaves: If both be slain, I am rid of thee; but yet. Sir Scullion, canst thou use that spit of thine? Fight, an thou canst. I have miss'd the only way." So till the dusk that follow'd even- song Rode on the two, reviler and reviled; Then after one long slope was mounted, saw. Bowl-shaped, thro' tops of many thousand pines A gloomy-gladed hollow slowly sink To westward — in the deeps whereof a mere, Round as the red eye of an Eagle- owl, Under the half-dead sunset glared; and shouts Ascended, and there brake a serving- man Flying from out of the black wood, and crying, " They have bound my lord to cast him in the mere." Then Gareth, " Bound am I to right the wrong'd, But straitlier bound am I to bide with thee." And when the damsel spake con- temptuously, " Lead, and I follow," Gareth cried again, " Follow, I lead ! " so down among the pines He plunged ; and there, black- shadow'd nigh the mere, And mid-thigh-deep in bulrushes and reed, Saw six tall men hailing a seventh along, A stone about his neck to drown him in it. Three with good blows he quieted, but three Fled thro' the pines; and Gareth loosed the stone From off his neck, then in the mere beside Tumbled it; oilily bubbled up the mere. Last, Gareth loosed his bonds and on free feet Set him, a stalwart Baron, Arthur's friend. " Well that ye came, or else these caitiff rogues Had wreak'd themselves on me; good cause is theirs To hate me, for my wont hath ever been To catch my thief, and then like ver- min here GARETH AND LYNETTE 205 Drown him, and with a stone about His towers where that day a feast his neck; had been And under this wan water many of Held in high hall, and many a viand them left, Lie rotting, but at night let go the And many a costly cate, received the stone, three. And rise, and flickering in a grimly And there they placed a peacock in light his pride Dance on the mere. Good now, ye Before the damsel, and the Baron set have saved a life Gareth beside her, but at once she Worth somewhat as the cleanser of rose. this wood. And fain would I reward thee wor- u -\/r u^l • lj- , . f 1, Meseems, that here is much dis- shipiully. What guerdon will ye?" r. . ^u- \ t j t? *= •' bettmg this knave. Lord Baron, at my side. Gareth sharply spake. Hear me — this morn I stood in "None! for the deed's sake have I Arthur's hall, done the deed. And pray'd the King would grant In uttermost obedience to the King. rne Lancelot But wilt thou yield this damsel har- To fight the brotherhood of Day and borage?" Night — The last a monster unsubduable Whereat the Baron saying, "I ^^ any save of him for whom I well believe ^^^^ " You be of Arthur's Table," a light Suddenly bawls this frontless kitchen- laugh ''"ave. Broke from Lynette, " Aye, truly of ' The quest is mine ; thy kitchen- a truth knave am I, And' in a' sort, being Arthur's ^nd mighty thro' thy meats and kitchen-knave!— ^ drinks am L' But deem not I accept thee aught the Then Arthur all at once gone mad more, ^^pl'^s, Scullion, for running sharplv with Go therefore, and so gives the thy spit ^"^^^ to him — Down on a rout of craven foresters. Him — here — a villain fitter to A thresher with his flail had scat- stick swine ter'd them. Than ride abroad redressing women's Nay — for thou smellest of the wrong, kitchen still. ^^ ^'^ beside a noble gentlewoman." But an this lord will yield us harbor- ^S^j Then half-ashamed and part Well." amazed, the lord Now look'd at one and now at other. So she spake. A league bcj'ond left the wood, The damsel by the peacock in his All in a full-fair manor and a rich, pride, 206 IDYLLS OF THE KING And, seating Gareth at another board, Sat down beside him, ate and then began. " Friend, whether thou be kitchen- knave, or not, Or whether it be the maiden's fan- tasy, And whether she be mad, or else the King, Or both or neither, or thyself be mad, I ask not: but thou strikest a strong stroke. For strong thou art and goodly there- withal, And saver of my life; and therefore now, For here be mighty men to joust with, weigh Whether thou wilt not with thy dam- sel back To crave again Sir Lancelot of the King. Thy pardon; I but speak for thine avail, The sayer of my life." And Gareth said, " Full pardon, but I follow up the quest, Despite of Day and Night and Death and Hell." So when, next morn, the lord whose life he saved Had, some brief space, convey'd them on their way And left them with God-speed, Sir Gareth spake, *' Lead, and I follow." Haughtily she replied, " I fly no more : I allow thee for an hour. Lfen and stoat have isled together, knave, In time of flood. Nay, furthermore, methinks Some ruth is mine for thee. Back wilt thou, fool? For hard by here is one will over- throw And slay thee: then will I to court again, And shame the King for only yield- ing me My champion from the ashes of his hearth." To whom Sir Gareth answer'd courteously, " Say thou thy say, and I will do my deed. Allow me for mine hour, and thou wilt find My fortunes all as fair as hers who lay Among the ashes and wedded the King's son." Then to the shore of one of those long loops Wherethro' the serpent river coil'd, they came. Rough-thicketed were the banks and steep; the stream Full, narrow; this a bridge of single arc Took at a leap; and on the further side Arose a silk pavilion, gay with gold In streaks and rays, and all Lent-Hly in hue, Save that the dome was purple, and above, Crimson, a slender banneret flutter- ing. And therebefore the lawless warrior paced Unarm'd, and calling, " Damsel, is this he, The champion thou hast brought from Arthur's hall? GARETH AND LYNETTE 207 For whom we let thee pass." " Nay, Flee down the valley before he get to nay," she said, horse. " Sir Morning-btar. The King in Who will cry shame? Thou art not utter scorn knight but knave." Of thee and thy much folly hath sent thee here Said Gareth, " Damsel, whether His kitchen-knave: and look thou to knave or knight, thyself: Far liefer had I fight a score of See that he fall not on thee sud- times denly. Than hear thee so missay me and And slay thee unarm'd : he is not revile. knight but knave." Fair words were best for him who fights forr thee ; Then at his call, " O daughters of But truly foul are better, for they the Dawn, send And servants of the Morning-Star, That strength of anger thro' mine approach, arms, I know Arm me," from out the silken cur- That I shall overthrow him." tain-folds Bare-footed and bare-headed three And he that bore fair girls The star, when mounted, cried from In gilt and rosy raiment came: their o'er the bridge, feet " A kitchen-knave, and sent in scorn In dewy grasses glisten'd ; and the of me! hair Such fight not I, but answer scorn All over glanced with dewdrop or with scorn. with gem For this were shame to do him Like sparkles in the stone Avanturine. further wrong These arm'd him in blue arms, and Than set him on his feet, and take gave a shield his horse Blue also, and thereon the morning And arms, and so return him to the star. King. And Gareth silent gazed upon the Come, therefore, leave thy lady knight, lightly, knave. Who stood a moment, ere his horse Avoid : for it beseemeth not a knave was brought. To ride with such a lady." Glorying; and in the stream beneath him, shone " Dog, thou liest, Immingled with Heaven's azure I spring from loftier lineage than waveringly, ■ thine o\^•n." The gay pavilion and the naked feet. He spake ; and all at fiery speed the His arms, the rosy raiment, and the two star. Shock'd on the central bridge, and either spear Then she that watch'd him, Bent but not brake, and either knight " Wherefore stare ye so ? at once. Thou shakest In thy fear: there yet Hurl'd as a stone from out of a is time: catapult 208 IDYLLS OF THE KING Beyond his horse's crupper and the bridge, Fell, as if dead ; but quickly rose and drew. And Gareth lash'd so fiercely with his brand He drave his enemy backward down the bridge, The damsel crying, " Well-stricken, kitchen-knave! " Till Gareth's shield was cloven ; but one stroke Laid him that clove it groveling on the ground. Then cried the fall'n, " Take not my life: I yield." And Gareth, " So this damsel ask it of me Good — I accord it easily as a grace." She reddening, " Insolent scullion : I of thee? I bound to thee for any favor ask'd ! " *' Then shall he die." And Gareth there unlaced His helmet as to slay him, but she shriek'd, *' Be not so hardy, scullion, as to slay One nobler than thyself." " Dam- sel, thy charge Is an abounding pleasure to me. Knight, Thy life is thine at her command. Arise And quickly pass to Arthur's hall, and say His kitchen-knave hath sent thee. See thou crave His pardon for thy breaking of his laws. Myself, when I return, will plead for thee. Thy shield is mine — farewell ; and, damsel, thou, Lead, and I follow." And fast away she fled. Then when he came upon her, spake, " Methought, Knave, when I watch'd thee striking on the bridge The savor of thy kitchen came upon me A little faintlier: but the wind hath changed : I scent it twenty-fold." And then she sang, "'O morning star' (not that tall felon there Whom thou by sorcery or unhappi- ness Or some device, hast foully over- thrown), * O morning star that smilest in the blue, O star, my morning dream hath proven true, Smile sweetly, thou! my love hath smiled on me.' " But thou begone, take counsel, and away, For hard by here is one that guards a ford — The second brother in their fool's parable — Will pay thee all thy wages, and to boot. Care not for shame: thou art not knight but knave." To whom Sir Gareth answer'd, laughingly, "Parables? Hear a parable of the knave. When I was kitchen-knave among the rest Fierce was the hearth, and one of my co-mates Own'd a rough dog, to whom he cast his coat, ' Guard it,' and there was none to meddle with it. GARETH AND LYNETTE 209 And such a coat art thou, and thee " Here is a kitchen-knave from the King Arthur's hall Gave me to guard, and such a dog Hath overthrown thy brother, and am I, hath his arms." To worry, and not to flee — and — "Ugh!" cried the Sun, and visoring knight or knave — up a red The knave that doth thee service as And cipher face of rounded foolish- full knight ness, Is all as good, meseems, as any Push'd horse across the foamings of knight the ford, Toward thy sister's freeing." Whom Gareth met midstream: no room was there "Aye, Sir Knave! For lance or tourney-skill: four Aye, knave, because thou strikest as strokes they struck a knight, With sword, and these were mighty; Being but knave, I hate thee all the the new knight more." Had fear he might be shamed ; but as the Sun " Fair damsel, you should worship Heaved up a ponderous arm to strike me the more, the fifth, That, being but knave, I throw thine The hoof of his horse slipt in the enemies." stream, the stream Descended, and the Sun was wash'd " Aye, aye," she said, " but thou away. shalt meet thy match." Then Gareth laid his lance athwart So when they touch'd the second the ford ; riverloop, So drew him home; but he that Huge on a huge red horse, and all in fought no more, mail As being all bone-batter'd on the Burnish'd to blinding, shone the rock, Noonday Sun Yielded; and Gareth sent him to the Beyond a raging shallow. As if the King. flower, " Myself when I return will plead That blows a globe of after arrow- for thee." lets, " Lead, and I follow." Quietly she Ten thousand-fold had grown, flash'd led. the fierce shield, " Hath not the good wind, damsel, All sun ; and Gareth's eyes had flying changed again ? " blots " Nay, not a point: nor art thou vie- Before them when he turn'd from tor here. watching him. ^ There lies a ridge of slate across the He from beyond the roaring shallow ford; roar'd, His horse thereon stumbled — aye, " What doest thou, brother, in my for I saw it. marches here? " And she athwart the shallow shrill'd " ' O Sun ' (not this strong fool again? whom thou. Sir Knave, 2IO IDYLLS OF THE KING Hast overthrown thro' mere unhappi- May-music growing with the growing ness), light, *0 Sun, that wakenest all to bliss Their sweet sun-worship? these be for or pain, the snare O moon, that layest all to sleep (So runs thy fancy) these be for the again, spit, Shine sweetly: twice my love hath Larding and basting. See thou have smiled on me.' not now Larded thy last, except thou turn and " What knowest thou of lovesong "Y- or of love? There stands the third fool of their Nay, nay, God wot, so thou wert allegory. nobly born, Thou hast a pleasant presence. Yea, For there beyond a bridge of perchance,— treble bow, All in a rose-red from the west, and all Naked it seem'd, and glowing in the O deviy flowers that open to the ^""' b d O dewy flowers that close when day is „ oroaa , , , J Deep-dimpled current underneath, the Blow sweetly: twice my love hath ™, *^"ignt, smiled on me.' That named himself the Star of Even- ing, stood. " What knovvest thou of flowers, ^^^ q^^^^^ . Wherefore waits the except, belike, madman there To garnish meats with? hath not our ^^^^^ -^ dayshine? " " Nay," good King gj^g ^j.j^j Who lent me thee, the flower of << xr^*. i „j ' i .. • u j 'j , . , , ' JNot naked, only wrapt in harden d kitchendom, ^^-^^^ A foolish love for flowers? what nru„^ rr^ u*™ n u- j . , , 1 hat rit nim like his own and so ye stick ye round ^^e^^^ The pasty? wherewithal deck the ij.v o.-.^^.- ^« u*.^ t-u o^ mi * *u J Z , , ^ xlis armor oii rum, these will turn the boar s head ? blade." Flowers? nay, the boar hath rose- maries and bay. -^j^^^ ^^^ ^^-^^ ^^^^^^^ ^,^^^^^j o'er the bridge, " ' O birds, that warble to the " Q brother-star, why shine ye here morning sky, so low? O birds that warble as the day goes Thy ward is higher up: but have ye by. slain Sing sweetly: twice my love hath The damsel's champion?" and the smiled on me.' damsel cried, " What knowest thou of birds, " No star of thine, but shot from lark, mavis, merle, Arthur's heaven Linnet? what dream ye when they With all disaster unto thine and utter forth thee! GARETH AND LYNETTE 211 For both thy younger brethren have Foredooming all his trouble was In gone down vain, Before this youth ; and so wilt thou, Labor'd within him, for he seem'd Sir Star; Art thou not old ? " as one That all in later, sadder age be- gins r\Aj J 1 11 J u J To war against ill uses of a life, Old, damsel, old and hard, r> ^ ^i r n i • i-r • j , • , J 1 1 r out these from all his lite arise, and Old, with the might and breath of twenty boys." Said Gareth, " Old, and over-bold in brag! But that same strength which threw the Morning Star Can throw the Evening." Then that other blew A hard and deadly note upon the horn. "Approach and arm me!" With slow steps from out An old storm-beaten, russet, many- stain 'd Pavilion, forth a grizzled damsel came, And arm'd him in old arms, and brought a helm With but a drying evergreen for crest, And gave a shield whereon the Star of Even Half-tarnish'd and half-bright, his emblem, shone. But when it glitter'd o'er the saddle- bow. They madly hurl'd together on the bridge; And Gareth overthrew him, lighted, drew. There met him drawn, and overthrew him again. But up like fire he started : and as oft As Gareth brought him groveling on his knees. So many a time he vaulted up again ; cry, " Thou hast made us lords, and canst not put us down!" He half despairs; so Gareth seem'd to strike Vainly, the damsel clamoring all the while, " Well done, knave-knight, well stricken, O good knight- knave — O knave, as noble as any of all the knights — Shame me not, shame me not. I have prophesied — Strike, thou art worthy of the Table Round — His arms are old, he trusts the harden'd skin — Strike — strike — the wind will never change again." And Gareth hearing ever stronglier smote. And hew'd great pieces of his armor off him. But lash'd in vain against the har- den'd skin, And could not wholly bring him under, more Than loud Southwestern, rolling ridge on ridge. The buoy that rides at sea, and dips and springs For ever ; till at length Sir Gareth 's brand Clash'd his, and brake it utterly to the hilt. "I have thee now;" but forth that other sprang, Till Gareth panted hard, and his And, all unknightlike, writhed his great heart, wiry arms 212 IDYLLS OF THE KING Around him, till he felt, despite his Not fit to cope your quest. You mail, said your say; Strangled, but straining ev'n his Mine answer was my deed. Good uttermost sooth! I hold Cast, and so hurl'd him headlong o'er He scarce is knight, yea, but half- the bridge man, nor meet Down to the river, sink or swim, To fight for gentle damsel, he, who and cried, lets ^' Lead, and I follow." His heart be stirr'd with any foolish heat But the damsel said, At any gentle damsel's wayward- " I lead no longer ; ride thou at my ness. side ; Shamed ? care not ! thy foul sayings Thou art the kingliest of all kitchen- fought for me: knaves. And seeing now thy words are fair, methinks " ' O trefoil, sparkling on the rainy There rides no knight, not Lancelot, plain, his great self, O rainbow with three colors after Hath force to quell me." rain. Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath ^.^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ smiled on me. -^^^^ ^^^ j^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ j^j^ ,, r,- 1 1 f • 1 T f • melancholy, Sir, — and, good faith, 1 tain t..i u-V-i i j4.*u 11 T 1 1 T^ • L Lets down his other leg, and stretch- had added — Knight, • , ^ T. 1 T 1 1 1 11 1 if ing, dreams But that 1 heard thee call thyself ^ r\c ji -^ij-** i , ^ Ut goodly supper in the distant pool, f,, , ' 'r , T L 1 J Then turn'd the noble damsel smil- Shamed am 1 that 1 so rebuked, re- . ^ , • ., , ing at him, ,,.!,', ,, T J And told him of a cavern hard at Missaid thee : noble 1 am ; and , , , , , T^. hand, c, , ?^^ J • J u Where bread and baken meats and Scorn d me and mine ; and now thy , , , f - , ■^ good red wine pardon fnend, ^^ Southland, which the Lady ror thou hast ever answer d court- j , Lyonors A 1 ^^V n' L 1 J L 1 1 Had sent her coming champion. And wholly bold thou art, and meek •. j u- . , / ' waited him. withal As any of Arthur's best, but, being knave. Anon they past a narrow comb Hast mazed my wit: I marvel what wherein thou art. Were slabs of rock with figures, knights on horse " Damsel," he said, " you be not Sculptured, and deckt in slowly- all to blame, waning hues. Saving that you mistrusted our good " Sir Knave, my knight, a hermit King once was here. Would handle scorn, or yield you. Whose holy hand hath fashion'd on asking, one the rock GARETH AND LYNETTE 213 The war of Time against the soul of Of that skill'd spear, the wonder of man. the world — And yon four fools have sucic'd their Went sliding down so easily, and allegory fell. From these damp walls, and taken That when he found the grass with- but the form. in his hands Know ye not these?" and Gareth He laugh'd ; the laughter jarr'd lookt and read — upon Lynette : In letters like to those the vexillary Harshly she ask'd him, " Shamed Hath left crag-carven o'er the and overthrown, streaming Gelt — And tumbled back into the kitchen- " Phosphorus," then " Meridies " knave, — "Hesperus" — Why laugh ye? that ye blew your " Nox " — " Mors," beneath five fig- boast in vain? " ures, armed men, " Nay, noble damsel, but that I, the Slab after slab, their faces forward son all, Of old King Lot and good Queen And running down the Soul, a Shape Bellicent, that fled And victor of the bridges and the With broken wings, torn raiment ford, and loose hair. And knight of Arthur, here lie For help and shelter to the hermit's thrown by whom cave. I know not, all thro' mere unhappi- " Follow the faces, and we find it. ness — Look, Device and sorcery and unhappi- Who comes behind ? " ness — Out, sword ; we are thrown ! " And For one — delay'd at first Lancelot answer'd, " Prince, Thro' helping back the dislocated O Gareth — thro' the mere unhappi- Kay ness To Camelot, then by what thereafter Of one who came to help thee, not chanced, to harm. The damsel's headlong error thro' Lancelot, and all as glad to find thee the wood — whole. Sir Lancelot, having swum the river- As on the day when Arthur knighted loops — him." His blue shield-lions cover 'd — softly drew Behind the twain, and when he saw Then Gareth, " Thou — Lance- the star lot! — thine the hand Gleam, on Sir Gareth's turning to That threw me? An some chance him, cried, to mar the boast "Stay, felon knight, I avenge me Thy brethren of thee make — which for my friend." could not chance — And Gareth crying prick'd against Had sent thee down before a lesser the cry; spear, But when they closed — in a mo- Shamed had I been, and sad — O ment — at one touch Lancelot — thou!" 214 IDYLLS OF THE KING Whereat the maiden, petulant, And makest merry when overthrown^ " Lancelot, Prince, Knight, Why came ye not, when call'd ? and Hail, Knight and Prince, and of our wherefore now Table Round ! " Come ye, not call'd ? I gloried in my knave, And then when turning to Lyn- Who being still rebuked, would an- ette he told swer still The tale of Gareth, petulantly she Courteous as any knight — but now, said, if knight, " Aye, well — aye, well — for worse The marvel dies, and leaves me than being fool'd fool'd and trick'd. Of others, is to fool one's self. A And only wondering wherefore cave, play'd upon: Sir Lancelot, is hard by, with meats And doubtful whether I and mine and drinks be scorn'd. And forage for the horse, and flint Where should be truth if not in for fire. Arthur's hall. But all about it flies a honeysuckle. In Arthur's presence? Knight, Seek, till we find." And when they knave, prince and fool, sought and found, I hate thee and forever." Sir Gareth drank and ate, and ail his life Past into sleep ; on whom the maiden And Lancelot said, gazed. "Blessed be thou. Sir Gareth! "Sound sleep be thine! sound cause knight art thou to sleep hast thou. To the King's best wish. O damsel, Wake lusty! Seem I not as tender be you wise to him To call him shamed, who is but over- As any mother? Aye, but such a thrown? one Thrown have I been, nor once, but As all day long hath rated at her many a time. child, Victor from vanquish'd Issues at the And vext his day, but blesses him last, asleep — And overthrower from being over- Good lord, how sweetly smells the thrown. hone3'Suckle With sword we have not striven; In the hush'd night, as if the world and thy good horse were one And thou are weary; yet not less I Of utter peace, and love, and gentle- felt ness ! Thy manhood thro' that wearied O Lancelot, Lancelot " — and she lance of thine. clapt her hands — Well hast thou done; for all the "Full merry am I to find my goodly stream is freed, knave And thou hast wreak'd his justice on Is knight and noble. See now, his foes, sworn have I, And when reviled, hast answer'd Else yon black felon had not let me graciously, pass. GARETH AND LYNETTE 215 To bring thee back to do the battle A star shot : " Lo," said Gareth, with him. "the foe falls!" Thus and thou goest, he will fight An owl whoopt : " Hark the victor thee first; pealing there!" Who doubts thee victor? so will my Suddenly she that rode upon his left knight-knave Clung to the shield that Lancelot Miss the full flower of this accom- lent him, crying, plishment." " Yield, yield him this again : 'tis he must fight: Said Lancelot, " Peradventure he, T ^urse the tongue that all thro' yes- you name, terday May know my shield. Let Gareth, Reviled thee, and hath wrought on an he will, Lancelot now Change his for mine, and take my To lend thee horse and shield : won- charger, fresh, tiers ye have done; Not to be spurr'd, loving the battle Mi'racles ye cannot: here is glory as well enow As he that rides him." " Lancelot- I" havmg flung the three: I see thee like," she said, maim'd, "Courteous in this. Lord Lancelot, Mangled: I swear thou canst not as in all." fl'"g the fourth." And Gareth, wakening, fiercely " And wherefore, damsel .'' tell me clutch'd the shield ; all ye know. "Ramp ye lance-splintering lions, on You cannot scare me; nor rough whom all spears face, or voice. Are rotten sticks! ye seem agape to Brute bulk of limb, or boundless roar ! savagery Yea, ramp and roar at leaving of Appal me from the quest." your lord ! — Care not, good beasts, so well I care ^^ u ^^^^ p^.^^^., ^^^ ^^.^^^ j^ ?J ^?^' 1 r 111 " God wot, I never look'd upon the U noble Lancelot, from my hold on r „ ese Seeing he never rides abroad by streams virtue — nre — thro one .„ . , .,, , day; IT u u, rT^ T J But watch'd him have I like a phan- JLven the shadow of Lancelot under * ™ .. ^ , . , J tom pass ^^ ^'"'^r*- „ Chilling the night: nor have I heard Hence: let us go. ^^e voice. Always he made his mouthpiece of a Silent the silent field page They traversed. Arthur's harp tho' Who came and went, and still re- summer-wan, ported him In counter motion to the clouds, As closing in himself the strength of allured ten, The glance of Gareth dreaming on And when his anger tare him, mas- his liege. sacring 2i6 IDYLLS OF THE KING Man, woman, lad and girl — yea, Sunder the glooming crimson on the the soft babe! marge, Some hold that he hath swallow'd Black, with black banner, and a long infant flesh, black horn Monster! O Prince, I went for Beside it hanging; which Sir Gareth Lancelot first, graspt, The quest is Lancelot's: give him And so, before the two could hinder back the shield." him. Sent all his heart and breath thro' all Said Gareth laughing, " An he the horn. fight for this, Echo'd the walls; a light twinkled; Belike he wins it as the better man; anon Thus — and not else!" Came lights and lights, and once again he blew; But Lancelot on him urged Whereon were hollow tramplings up All the devisings of their chivalry and down When one might meet a mightier And muffled voices heard, and shad- than himself; ows past; How best to manage horse, lance. Till high above him, circled with sword and shield, her maids. And so fill up the gap where force The Lady Lyonors at a window might fail stood. With skill and fineness. Instant Beautiful among lights, and waving were his words. to him White hands, and courtesy; but Then Gareth, " Here be rules. I \\hen the Prince know but one — Three times had blown — after long To dash against mine enemy and to hush — at last — wm. The huge pavilion slowly yielded up. Yet have I watch'd thee victor in Thro' those black foldings, that the joust, which housed therein. And seen thy way." " Heaven help High on a nightblack horse, in night- thee," sigh'd Lynette. black arms. With white breast-bone, and barren Then for a space, and under cloud ribs of Death, that grew And crown'd with fleshless laughter To thunder-gloom palling all stars, — some ten steps — they rode In the half-light — thro' the dim In converse till she made her palfrey dawn — advanced halt, The monster, and then paused, and Lifted an arm, and softly whisper'd spake no word. " There." And all the three were silent seeing. But Gareth spake and all indig- _ pitch'd nantly, Beside the Castle Perilous on flat " Fool, for thou hast, men say, the field, strength of ten, A huge pavilion like a mountain Canst thou not trust the limbs thy peak God hath given. THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 217 But must, to make the terror of thee And stay the world from Lady Lyon- more, ors. Trick thyself out in ghastly image- They never dream'd the passes would ries be past." Of that which Life hath done with, Answer'd Sir Gareth graciously to and the clod, one Less dull than thou, will hide with Not many a moon his younger, mantling flowers " My fair child. As if for pity?" But he spake no What madness made thee challenge word ; the chief knight Which set the horror higher: a Of Arthur's hall? " " Fair Sir, they maiden swoon'd ; bade me do it. The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands They hate the King, and Lancelot, and wept, the King's friend. As doom'd to be the bride of Night They hoped to slay him somewhere and Death ; on the stream. Sir Gareth's head prickled beneath They never dream'd the passes could his helm; be past." And ev'n Sir Lancelot thro' his warm T ^,° ^ 1 11 1 1)11- Then sprang the happier day from Ice strike, and all that mark d him underground; were aghast. j^^^ L^^^ Lyonors and her house, with dance . o- T 15 1 And revel and song, made merry At once Sir Lancelot s charger over Death, hercely neigh d , , , As being after all their foolish fears And Death s dark war-horse bounded forward with him. And horrors only proven a blooming Then those that did not blink the g^ j^J^; ^j^^,^ ^j^^^ ^^^ q^^^^^ terror, saw .1 rr, T^ \ 1 , vv'on the quest. Ihat Death was cast to ground, and slowly rose. But with one stroke Sir Gareth split And he that told the tale in older the skull. times Half fell to right and half to left Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyon- and lay. ors, Then with a stronger buffet he clove But he, that told it later, says the helm Lynette. As thoroughly as the skull; and out from this Issued the bright face of a blooming THE MARRIAGE OF boy GERAINT Fresh as a flower new-born, and cry- ing, " Knight, The brave Geraint, a knight of Slay me not: my three brethren bade Arthur's court, me do it, A tributary prince of Devon, one To make a horror all about the Of that great Order of the Table house, Round, > 2i8 IDYLLS OF THE KING Had married Enid, Yniol's only Not less Geraint believed it; and child, there fell And loved her, as he loved the light A horror on him, lest his gentle wife, of Heaven. Thro' that great tenderness for And as the light of Heaven varies, Guinevere, now Had suffer'd, or should suffer any At sunrise, now at sunset, now by taint night In nature : wherefore going to the With moon and trembling stars, so King, loved Geraint He made this pretext, that his prince- To make her beauty vary day by dom lay day. Close on the borders of a territory, In crimsons and in purples and in Wherein were bandit earls, and gems. caitiff knights. And Enid, but to please her hus- Assassins, and all flyers from the band's eye, hand Who first had found and loved her Of Justice, and whatever loathes a in a state law: Of broken fortunes, daily fronted And therefore, till the King himself him should please In some fresh splendor ; and the To cleanse this common sewer of all Queen herself, his realm. Grateful to Prince Geraint for serv- He craved a fair permission to de- ice done, part. Loved her, and often with her own And there defend his marches; and white hands the King Array'd and deck'd her, as the love- Mused for a little on his plea, but, liest, last. Next after her own self, in all the Allowing it, the prince and Enid court. rode. And Enid loved the Queen, and with And fifty knights rode with them, true heart to the shores Adored her, as the stateliest and the Of Severn, and they past to their best own land ; And loveliest of all women upon Where, thinking, that if ever yet was earth. wife And seeing them so tender and so True to her lord, mine shall be so to close, me. Long in their common love rejoiced He compass'd her with sweet ob- Geraint. servances But when a rumor rose about the And worship, never leaving her, and Queen, grew Touching her guilty love for Lance- Forgetful of his promise to the King, lot, Forgetful of the falcon and the hunt, Tho' yet there lived no proof, nor Forgetful of the tilt and tournament, yet was heard Forgetful of his glory and his name. The world's loud whisper breaking Forgetful of his princedom and its into storm, cares. THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 219 And this forgetfulness was hateful to Running too vehemently to break her. upon it. And by and by the people, when they And Enid woke and sat beside the met couch, In twos and threes, or fuller com- Admiring him, and thought within panics, herself. Began to scoff and jeer and babble of Was ever man so grandly made as him he? As of a prince whose manhood was Then, like a shadow, past the peo- all gone, pie's talk And molten down in mere uxorious- And accusation of uxoriousness ness. Across her mind, and bowing over And this she gather'd from the peo- him, pie's eyes: Low to her own heart piteously she This, too, the women who attired said: her head, To please her, dwelling on his *' O noble breast and all-puissant boundless love, arms, Told Enid, and they sadden'd her Am I the cause, I the poor cause the more: that men And day by day she thought to tell Reproach you, saying all your force Geraint, is gone? But could not out of bashful deli- I am the cause, because I dare not cacy ; speak While he that watch'd her sadden, And tell him what I think and what was the more they say. Suspicious that her nature had a And yet I hate that he should linger taint. here ; I cannot love my lord and not his name. At last, it chanced that on a sum- Far liefer had I gird his harness on mer morn him, (They sleeping each by either) the And ride with him to battle and new sun stand by. Beat thro' the blindless casement of And watch his mightful hand strik- the room, ing great blows And heated the strong warrior in his At caitiffs and at wrongers of the dreams ; world. Who, moving, cast the coverlet Far better were I laid in the dark aside, earth. And bared the knotted column of Not hearing any more his noble his throat, voice, The massive square of his heroic Not to be folded more in these dear breast, arms, And arms on which the standing And darken'd from the high light in muscle sloped, his eyes, As slopes a wild brook o'er a little Than that my lord thro' me should stone. suffer shame. 220 IDYLLS OF THE KING Am I so bold, and could I so stand by, And see my dear lord wounded in the strife, Or maybe pierced to death before mine eyes, And yet not dare to tell him what I think. And how men slur him, saying all his force Is melted into mere effeminacy? O me, I fear that I am no true wife." Half inwardly, half audibly she spoke. And the strong passion in her made her weep True tears upon his broad and naked breast, And these awoke him, and by great mischance He heard but fragments of her later words. And that she fear'd she was not a true wife. And then he thought, " In spite of all my care, For all my pains, poor man, for all my pains. She is not faithful to me, and I see her Weeping for some gay knight in Arthur's hall." Then tho' he loved and reverenced her too much To dream she could be guilty of foul act. Right thro' his manful breast darted the pang That makes a man, in the sweet face of her Whom he loves most, lonely and miserable. At this he hurl'd his huge limbs out of bed, And shook his drowsy squire awake and cried. " My charger and her palfrey ; " then to her, " I will ride forth into the wilder- ness; For tho' it seems my spurs are yet to win, I have not fall'n so low as some would wish. And thou, put on thy worst and meanest dress And ride with me." And Enid ask'd, amazed, " If Enid errs, let Enid learn her fault." But he, " I charge thee, ask not, but obey." Then she bethought her of a faded silk, A faded mantle and a faded veil, And moving toward a cedarn cabi- net, Wherein she kept them folded rever- ently With sprigs of summer laid between the folds. She took them, and array'd herself therein. Remembering when first he came on her Drest in that dress, and how he loved her in it. And all her foolish fears about the dress, And all hu journey to her, as him- self Had told her, and their coming to the court. For Arthur on the Whitsuntide before Held court at old Caerleon upon Usk. There on a day, he sitting high in hall. Before him came a forester of Dean, Wet from the woods, with notice of a hart THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 221 Taller than all his fellows, milky- Sweetly and statelily, and with all white, grace First seen that day: these things he Of womanhood and queenhood, told the King. answer'd him: Then the good King gave order to " Late, late, Sir Prince," she said, let blow "later than we!" His horns for hunting on the mor- " Yea, noble Queen," he answer'd, row-morn. " and so late And when the Queen petition'd for That I but come like you to see the his leave hunt, To see the hunt, allow'd it easily. Not join it." " Therefore wait with So with the morning all the court were gone. But Guinevere lay late into the morn, Lost in sweet dreams, and dreaming of her love For Lancelot, and forgetful of the hunt; But rose at last, a single maiden with her. Took horse, and forded Usk, and gain'd the wood ; me," she said ; " For on this little knoll, if any- where. There is good chance that we shall hear the hounds: Here often they break covert at our feet." And while they listen'd for the distant hunt. And chiefly for the baying of Cavall, There, on a little knoll beside it. King Arthur's hound of deepest stay'd mouth, there rode Waiting to hear the hounds; but Full slowly by a knight, lady, and heard instead dwarf; A sudden sound of hoofs, for Prince Whereof the dwarf lagg'd latest, Geraint, and the knight Late also, wearing neither hunting- Had visor up, and show'd a youthful dress face, Nor weapon, save a golden-hilted Imperious, and of haughtiest linea- brand, ments. Came quickly flashing thro' the And Guinevere, not mindful of his shallow ford face Behind them, and so gallop'd up the In the King's hall, desired his name, knoll. and sent A purple scarf, at either end Her maiden to demand it of the whereof dwarf ; There swung an apple of the purest Who being vicious, old and irritable, gold. And doubling all his master's vice of Sway'd round about him, as he pride, gallop'd up Made answer sharply that she slx)uld To join them, glancing like a dragon- not know. fly " Then will I ask it of himself," she In summer suit and silks of holiday. said. Low bow'd the tributary Prmce, and " Nay, by my faith, thou shalt not," she, cried the dwarf; 222 IDYLLS OF THE KING " Thou art not worthy ev'n to speak of hfm;" And when she put her horse toward the knight, Struck at her with his whip, and she return'd Indignant to the Queen; whereat Geraint Exclaiming, " Surely I will learn the name," Made sharply to the dwarf, and ask'd it of him, Who answer'd as before; and when the Prince Had put his horse in motion toward the knight. Struck at him with his whip, and cut his cheek. The Prince's blood spirted upon the scarf, Dyeing it; and his quick, instinctive hand Caught at the hilt, as to abolish him: But he, from his exceeding manful- ness And pure nobility of temperament. Wroth to be wroth at such a worm, refrain'd From ev'n a word, and so returning said: " I will avenge this insult, noble Queen, Done in your maiden's person to yourself: And I will track this vermin to their earths : For tho' I ride unarm'd, I do not doubt To find, at some place I shall come at, arms On loan, or else for pledge; and, being found, Then will I fight him, and will break his pride. And on the third day will again be here, So that I be not fall'n in fight. Farewell." " Farewell, fair Prince," answer'd the stately Queen. " Be prosperous in this journey, as in all; And may you light on all things that you love. And live to wed with her whom first you love: But ere you wed with any, bring your bride. And I, were she the daughter of a king. Yea, tho' she were a beggar from the hedge, Will clothe her for her bridals like the sun." And Prince Geraint, now think- ing that he heard The noble hart at bay, now the far horn, A little vext at losing of the hunt, A little at the vile occasion, rode. By ups and downs, thro' many a grassy glade And valley, with fixt eye following the three. At last they issued from the world of wood, And climb'd upon a fair and even ridge, And show'd themselves against the sky, and sank. And thither came Geraint, and un- derneath Beheld the long street of a little town In a long valley, on one side whereof, White from the mason's hand, a fortress rose; And on one side a castle in decay, Beyond a bridge that spann'd a dry ravine : THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 223 And out of town and valley came a " Friend, he that labors for the noise sparrow-hawk As of a broad brook o'er a shingly Has little time for idle questioners." bed Whereat Geraint flash'd into sudden Brawling, or like a clamor of the spleen : rooks " A thousand pips eat up your spar- At distance, ere they settle for the row-hawk! night. Tits, wrens, and all wing'd nothings peck him dead ! And onward to the fortress rode Ye think the rustic cackle of your the three, bourg And enter'd, and were lost behind The murmur of the world ! What the walls. is it to me? " So," thought Geraint, " I have O wretched set of sparrows, one and track'd him to his earth." all. And down the long street riding Who pipe of nothing but of sparrow- wearily, hawks ! Found every hostel full, and every- Speak, if ye be not like the rest, where hawk-mad, Was hammer laid to hoof, and the Where can I get me harborage for hot hiss the night? And bustling whistle of the youth And arms, arms, arms to fight my who scour'd enemy? Speak! " His master's armor ; and of such a Whereat the armorer turning all one amazed He ask'd, " What means the tumult And seeing one so gay in purple in the town? " silks. Who told him, scouring still, " The Came forward with the helmet yet sparrow-hawk ! " in hand Then riding close behind an ancient And answer'd, " Pardon me, O churl, stranger knight ; Who, smitten by the dusty sloping We hold a tourney here to-morrow beam, ' morn, Went sweating underneath a sack of And there is scantly time for half corn, the work. Ask'd yet once more what meant the Arms? truth! I know not: all are hubbub here? wanted here. Who answer'd grufflj^ "Ugh! the Harborage? truth, good truth, I sparrow-hawk." know not, save. Then riding further past an armor- It may be, at Earl Yniol's, o'er the er's, bridge Who, with back turn'd, and bow'd Yonder." He spoke and fell to above his work, work again. Sat riveting a helmet on his knee. He put the self-same query, but the Then rode Geraint, a little spleen- man ful yet. Not turning round, nor looking at Across the bridge that spann'd the him, said : dry ravine. 224 IDYLLS OF THE KING There musing sat the hoary-headed And like a crag was gay with wild- Earl, ing flowers: (His dress a suit of fray'd magnifi- And high above a piece of turret cence, stair, Once fit for feasts of ceremony) and Worn by the feet that now were ' said: silent, wound " Whither, fair son ? " to whom Bare to the sun, and monstrous ivy- Geraint replied, stems " O friend, I seek a harborage for Claspt the gray walls with hairy- the night." fibered arms. Then Yniol, " Enter therefore and And suck'd the joining of the stones, partake and look'd The slender entertainment of a A knot, beneath, of snakes, aloft, a house grove. Once rich, now poor, but ever open- door'd." And while he waited in the castle '' Thanks, venerable friend," replied court, Geraint; The voice of Enid, Yniol's daughter, " So that ye do not serve me spar- rang row-hawks Clear thro' the open casement of the For supper, I will enter, I will eat hall. With all the passion of a twelve Singing; and as the sweet voice of a hours' fast." bird. Then sigh'd and smiled the hoary- Heard by the lander in a lonely isle, headed Earl, Moves him to think what kind of And answer'd, " Graver cause than bird it is yours is mine That sings so delicately clear, and To curse this hedgerow thief, the make sparrow-hawk: Conjecture of the plumage and the But in, go in; for save yourself de- form; sire it. So the sweet voice of Enid moved We will not touch upon him ev'n in Geraint; jest." And made him like a man abroad at morn Then rode Geraint into the castle When first the liquid note beloved of court, men His charger trampling many a Comes flying over many a windy prickly star wave Of sprouted thistle on the broken To Britain, and in April suddenly stones. Breaks from a coppice gemm'd with He look'd and saw that all was green and red, ruinous. And he suspends his converse with a Here stood a shatter'd archway friend, plumed with fern ; Or it may be the labor of his hands. And here had fall'n a great part of a To think or say, " There is the tower, nightingale ; " Whole, like a crag that tumbles So fared it with Geraint, who from the clifif, thought and said. 'here by god's rood is the one maid for me' " — Page 225 THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 225 *' Here, by God's grace, is the one That lightly breaks a faded flower- voice for me." sheath, Moved the fair Enid, all in faded It chanced the song that Enid silk, sang was one Her daughter. In a moment thought Of Fortune and her wheel, and Enid Geraint, sang: " Here by God's rood is the one maid for me." " Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel But none spake word except the and lower the proud; hoary Earl: Turn thy wild wheel thro' sunshine, " Enid, the good knight's horse storm, and cloud ; stands in the court ; Thy wheel and thee we neither love Take him to stall, and give him corn, nor hate. and then Go to the town and buy us flesh and " Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel wine ; with smile or frown; And we will make us merry as we With that wild wheel we go not up may. or down ; Our hoard is little, but our hearts Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great." are great. He spake: the Prince, as Enid " Smile and we smile, the lords of past him, fain many lands ; To follow, strode a stride, but Yniol Frown and we smile, the lords of caught our own hands; His purple scarf, and held, and said, For man is man and master of his "Forbear! fate. Rest! the good house, tho' ruin'd, O my son, " Turn, turn thy wheel above the Endures not that her guest should staring crowd; serve himself." Thy wheel and thou are shadows in And reverencing the custom of the the cloud; house Thy wheel and thee we neither love Geraint, from utter courtesy, for- nor hate." bore. " Hark, by the bird's song ye may So Enid took his charger to the learn the nest," stall; Said Yniol ; " enter quickly." Enter- And after went her way across the ing then, bridge, Right o'er a mount of newly-fallen And reach'd the town, and while the stones, Prince and earl The dusky-rafter'd many-cobweb'd Yet spoke together, came again with hall, one, He found an ancient dame in dim A youth, that following with a cos- brocade; trel bore And near her, like a blossom ver- The means of goodly welcome, flesh meil-white, and wine. 226 IDYLLS OF THE KING And Enid brought sweet cakes to Sent her own maiden to demand the make them cheer, name, And in her veil enfolded, manchet His dwarf, a vicious under-shapen bread. thing. And then, because their hall must Struck at her with his whip, and she also serve return'd For kitchen, boil'd the flesh, and Indignant to the Queen; and then I spread the board, swore And stood behind, and waited on the That I would track this caitiff to his three. hold, And seeing her so sweet and service- And fight and break his pride, and able, have it of him, Geraint had longing in him ever- And all unarm'd I rode, and thought more to find To stoop and kiss the tender little Arms in your town, where all the thumb, men are mad ; That crost the trencher as she laid it They take the rustic murmur of their down : bourg But after all had eaten, then Ger- For the great wave that echoes aint, round the world ; For now the wine made summer in They would not hear me speak: but his veins, if ye know Let his eye rove in following, or Where I can light on arms, or if rest yourself On Enid at her lowly handmaid- Should have them, tell me, seeing I work, have sworn Now here, now there, about the That I will break his pride and learn dusky hall; his name, Then suddenly addrest the hoary Avenging this great insult done the Earl: Queen." " Fair Host and Earl, I pray your Then cried Earl Yniol, " Art thou courtesy ; he indeed. This sparrow-hawk, what is he? tell Geraint, a name far-sounded among me of him. men His name? but no, good faith, I will For noble deeds? and truly I, when not have it: first For if he be the knight whom late I saw you moving by me on the I saw bridge. Ride into that new fortress by your Felt ye were somewhat, yea, and by town, your state White from the mason's hand, then And presence might have guess'd you have I sworn one of those From his own lips to have it — I am That eat in Arthur's hall at Came- Geraint lot. Of Devon — for this morning when Nor speak I now from foolish flat- the Queen tery; THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 227 For this dear child hath often heard From mine own earldom foully me praise ousted me; Your feats of arms, and often when Built that new fort to overawe my I paused friends, Hath ask'd again, and ever loved to For truly there are those who love hear; me yet; So grateful is the noise of noble And keeps me in this ruinous castle deeds here, To noble hearts who see but acts of Where doubtless he would put me wrong: soon to death, never yet had woman such a But that his pride too much despises pair me : Of suitors as this maiden ; first And I myself sometimes despise my- Limours, self; A creature w^holly given to brawls For I have let men be, and have and wine, their way; Drunk even when he woo'd ; and be Am much too gentle, have not used he dead my power : 1 know not, but he past to the wild Nor know I whether I be very base land. Or very manful, whether very wise The second was your foe, the spar- Or very foolish; only this I know, row-hawk. That whatsoever evil happen to me. My curse, my nephew — I will not I seem to suffer nothing heart or let his name limb. Slip from my lips if I can help it — But can endure it all most patiently." he. When I that knew him fierce and « ^tt h • i i .. i- i turbulent Well said, true heart, replied Refused her to him, then his pride ^, (^eraint but arms, „„,„! ^ . 1 nat if the sparrow-hawk, this awoKe , u /; u And since the proud man often is the , nephew,^ hght In next day s tourney 1 may break mean He sow'd a slander in the common ' ^^^ ^' ear. Affirming that his father left him And Yniol answer'd, " Arms, in- gold, deed, but old And in my charge, which was not And rusty, old and rusty, Prince render'd to him ; Geraint, Bribed with large promises the men Are mine, and therefore at thine ask- who served ing, thine. About my person, the more easily But in this tournament can no man Because my means were somewhat tilt, broken into Except the lady he loves best be Thro' open doors and hospitality; there. Raised my own town against me in Two forks are fixt into the meadow the night ground. Before my Enid's birthday, sack'd And over these is placed a silver my house; wand. 228 IDYLLS OF THE KING And over that a golden sparrow- hawk, The prize of beauty for the fairest there. And this, what knight soever be in field Lays claim to for the lady at his side, And tilts with my good nephew thereupon, Who being apt at arms and big of bone Has ever won it for the lady with him. And toppling over all antagonism Has earn'd himself the name of spar- row-hawk. But thou, that hast no lady, canst not fight." To whom Geraint with eyes all bright replied. Leaning a little toward him, " Thy leave ! Let me lay lance in rest, O noble host. For this dear child, because I never saw, Tho' having seen all beauties of our time. Nor can see elsewhere, anything so fair. And if I fall her name will yet re- main Untarnish'd as before; but if I live, So aid me Heaven when at mine uttermost. As I will make her truly my true wife." Then, howsoever patient, Yniol's heart Danced in his bosom, seeing better days. And looking round he saw not Enid there, — Who hearing her own name had stol'n away — But that old dame, to whom full tenderly And fondling all her hand in his he said, " Mother, a maiden is a tender thing. And best by her that bore her under- stood. Go thou to rest, but ere thou go to rest Tell her, and prove her heart toward the Prince." So spake the kindly-hearted earl, and she With frequent smile and nod depart- ing found, Half disarray'd as to her rest, the girl ; Whom first she kiss'd on either cheek, and then On either shining shoulder laid a hand. And kept her off and gazed upon her face, And told her all their converse in the hall. Proving her heart: but never light and shade Coursed one another more on open ground Beneath a troubled heaven, than red and pale Across the face of Enid hearing her ; While slowly falling as a scale that falls. When weight is added only grain by grain, Sank her sweet head upon her gentle breast ; Nor did she lift an eye nor speak a word. Rapt in the fear and in the wonder of it; So moving without answer to her rest She found no rest, and ever fail'd to draw THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 229 The quiet night into her blood, but The prize of beauty." Loudly spake lay the Prince, Contemplating her own unworthi- "Forbear: there is a worthier," and ness; the knight And when the pale and bloodless With some surprise and thrice as east began much disdain To quicken to the sun, arose, and Turn'd, and beheld the four, and all raised his face Her mother too, and hand in hand Glow'd like the heart of a great fire they moved at Yule, Down to the meadow where the So burnt he was with passion, cry- jousts were held, ing out, -And waited there for Yniol and "Do battle for it then," no more; Geraint. and thrice They clash'd together, and thrice they brake their spears. And thither came the twain, and Then each, dishorsed and drawing, when Geraint lash'd at each Beheld her first in field, awaiting So often and with such blows, that him, all the crowd He felt, were she the prize of bodily Wonder'd, and now and then from force, distant walls Himself beyond the rest pushing There came a clapping as of phan- could move tom hands. The chair of Idris. Yniol's rusted So twice they fought, and twice they arms breathed, and still Were on his princely person, but The dew of their great labor, and thro' these the blood Princelike his bearing shone ; and Of their strong bodies, flowing, errant knights drain'd their force. And ladies came, and by and by the But cither's force was match'd till town Yniol's cry, Flow'd in, and settling circled all the " Remember that great insult done lists. the Queen," And there they fixt the forks into Increased Geraint's, who heaved his the ground, blade aloft, And over these they placed the silver And crack'd the helmet thro', and wand, bit the bone. And over that the golden sparrow- And fell'd him, and set foot upon hawk. his breast, Then Yniol's nephew, after trumpet And said, "Thy name?" To whom blown, the fallen man Spake to the lady with him and pro- Made answer, groaning, " Edyrn, claim'd, son of Nudd! " Advance and take, as fairest of the Ashamed am I that I should tell it fair, thee. What I these two years past have My pride is broken: men have seen won for thee, my fall." 230 IDYLLS OF THE KING " Then, Edyrn, son of Nudd," re- No later than last eve to Prince- plied Geraint, Geraint — " These two things shalt thou do, or So bent he seem'd on going the third else thou diest. da)', First, thou thyself, with damsel and He would not leave her, till her with dwarf, promise given — Shalt ride to Arthur's court, and To ride with him this morning to the coming there, court, Crave pardon for that insult done the And there be made known to the Queen, stately Queen, And shalt abide her judgment on it; And there be wedded with all cere- next, mony. Thou shalt give back their earldom to At this she cast her eyes upon her thy kin. dress, These two things shalt thou do, or And thought it never yet had look'd thou shalt die." so mean. And Edyrn answer'd, " These things For as a leaf in mid-November is will I do. To what it was in mid-October, For I have never yet been over- seem'd thrown. The dress that now she look'd on to And thou hast overthrown me, and the dress my pride She look'd on ere the coming of Is broken down, for Enid sees my Geraint. fall ! " And still she look'd, and still the ter- And rising up, he rode to Arthur's ror grew court. Of that strange bright and dreadful And there the Queen forgave him thing, a court, easily. All staring at her in her faded silk: And being young, he changed and And softly to her own sweet heart she came to loathe said : His crime of traitor, slowly drew himself Bright from his old dark life, and fell " This noble prince who won our at last earldom back. In the great battle fighting for the So splendid in his acts and his attire, King. Sweet heaven, how much I shall dis- credit him ! But when the third day from the Would he could tarry with us here hunting-morn awhile. Made a low splendor in the world, But being so beholden to the Prince, and wings It were but little grace in any of us. Moved in her ivy, Enid, for she lay Bent as he seem'd on going this third With her fair head in the dim-yellow day, light. To seek a second favor at his hands. Among the dancing shadows of the Yet if he could but tarry a day or birds, two. Woke and bethought her of her prom- Myself would work eye dim, and ise given finger lame. THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 231 Par liefer than so much discredit Of that and these to her own faded him." self And the gay court, and fell asleep again; And Enid fell in longing for a And dreamt herself was such a faded dress form All branch'd and flower'd with gold, Among her burnish'd sisters of the a costly gift pool ; Of her good mother, given her on But this was in the garden of a the night king; Before her birthday, three sad years And tho' she lay dark in the pool, ago, she knew That night of fire, when Edyrn That all was bright; that all about sack'd their house, were birds And scatter'd all they had to all the Of sunny plume in gilded trellis- winds: work; For while the mother show'd it, and That all the turf was rich in plots the two that look'd Were turning and admiring it, the Each like a garnet or a turkis in work it ; To both appear'd so costly, rose a And lords and ladies of the high cry court went That Edyrn's men were on them, In silver tissue talking things of and they fled state; With little save the jewels they had And children of the King in cloth of on, gold Which being sold and sold had Glanced at the doors or gambol'd bought them bread: down the walks; And Edyrn's men had caught them And while she thought, " They will in their flight, not see me," came And placed them in this ruin; and A stately queen whose name was she wish'd Guinevere, The Prince had found her in her And all the children in their cloth ancient home; of gold Then let her fancy flit across the Ran to her, crying, "If we have fish past, at all And roam the goodly places that she Let them be gold ; and charge the knew; gardeners now And last bethought her how she used To pick the faded creature from the to watch, pool. Near that old home, a pool of golden And cast it on the mixen that it carp; die." And one was patch'd and blurr'd And therewithal one came and and lusterless seized on her, Among his burnish'd brethren of the And Enid started waking, with her pool ; heart And half asleep she made compari- All overshadow'd by the foolish son dream, 232 IDYLLS OF THE KING And lo! it was her mother grasping Came one with this and laid it in my her hand, To get her well awake; and in her For love or fear, or seeking favor of hand us, A suit of bright apparel, which she Because we have our earldom back laid again. Flat on the couch, and spoke exult- And yester-eve I would not tell you ingly: of it, But kept it for a sweet surprise at " See here, my child, how fresh ,. i ' • • • :, the colors look, ^"^' ^^^^^ >^ ^\ "°^ ^ ^^T.^^ surprise? How fast they hold like colors of a ^°' ^ "^^'^^^ unwdlmgly have shell ^'°''" That keeps the wear and polish of ^^ ,^^^^^ ^"^^' ^' y°"' "^^ ""^'^^^ ^1 nave yours, the wave. a j u • ^r • ^ t • wTu ^3 T4. i. -And howsoever patient, Yniol his. Why not.'^ It never yet was worn, at. j l T r n T . Ah, dear, he took me from a goodly Look on it, child, and tell me if ye t,,-. , ' r • i i I .. " With store of rich apparel, sumptu- know it. f ft-yf ous tare. And page, and maid, and squire, and And Enid look'd, but all confused seneschal, at first. And pastime both of hawk and Could scarce divide it from her hound, and all foolish dream: That appertains to noble mainte- Then suddenly she knew it and nance. rejoiced, Yea, and he brought me to a goodly And answer'd, "Yea, I know it; house; your good gift. But since our fortune swerved from So sadly lost on that unhappy night; sun to shade. Your own good gift!" "Yea, And all thro' that young traitor^ surely," said the dame, cruel need " And gladly given again this happy Constrain'd us, but a better time has morn. come ; For when the jousts were ended So clothe yourself in this, that bet- yesterday, ter fits Went Yniol thro' the town, and Our mended fortunes and a Prince's everywhere bride : He found the sack and plunder of For tho' ye won the prize of fairest our house fair, All scatter'd thro' the houses of the And tho' I heard him call you fairest town ; fair. And gave command that all which Let never maiden think, however once was ours fair. Should now be ours again: and yes- She is not fairer in new clothes than ter-eve, old. While }'e were talking sweetly with And should some great court-lady your Prince, say, the Prince THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 233 Hath pick'd a ragged-robin from the As this great Prince invaded us, and hedge, we, And like a madman brought her to Not beat him back, but welcomed the court, him with joy. Then were ye shamed, and, worse, And I can scarcely ride with you to might shame the Prince court. To whom we are beholden; but I For old am I, and rough the ways know, and wild ; When my dear child is set forth at But Yniol goes, and I full oft shall her best, dream That neither court nor country, tho' I see my princess as I see her now, they sought Clothed with my gift, and gay among Thro' all the provinces like those of the gay." old That lighted on Queen Esther, has But while the women thus re- her match." joiced, Geraint Woke where he slept in the high hall, and call'd Here ceased the kindly mother out For Enid, and when Yniol made of breath; report And Enid listen'd brightening as she Of that good mother making Enid lay; ^ gay Then, as the white and glittering In such apparel as might well be- star of morn seem Parts from a bank of snow, and by His princess, or indeed the stately and by Queen, Slips into golden cloud, the maiden He answer'd : " Earl, entreat her rose, by my love. And left her maiden couch, and Albeit I give no reason but my wish, robed herself, That she ride with me in her faded Help'd by the mother's careful hand silk." and eye, Yniol with that hard message went; Without a mirror, in the gorgeous it fell gown; Like flaws in summer laying lusty Who, after, turn'd her daughter corn : round, and said. For Enid, all abash'd she knew not She never yet had seen her half so why, fair; Dared not to glance at her good And call'd her like that maiden in mother's face, the tale, But silently, in all obedience. Whom Guydion made by glamor Her mother silent too, nor helping out of flowers, her. And sweeter than the bride of Cas- Laid from her limbs the costly- sivelaun, broider'd gift, Flur, for whose love the Roman And robed them in her ancient suit Caesar first again. Invaded Britain, " But we beat him And so descended. Never man re- back, joiced 234 IDYLLS OF THE KING More than Geraint to greet her thus attired ; And glancing all at once as keenly at her As careful robins eye the delver's toil, Made her cheek burn and either eye- lid fall, But rested with her sweet face satis- fied; Then seeing cloud upon the mother's brow, Her by both hands he caught, and sweetly said, ** O my new mother, be not wroth or grieved At thy new son, for my petition to her. When late I left Caerleon, our great Queen, In words whose echo lasts, they were so sweet. Made promise, that whatever bride I brought. Herself would clothe her like the sun in Heaven. Thereafter, when I reach'd this ruin'd hall, Beholding one so bright in dark estate, I vow'd that could I gain her, our fair Queen, No hand but hers, should make your Enid burst Sunlike from cloud — and likewise thought perhaps, That service done so graciously would bind The two together; fain I would the two Should love each other: how can Enid find A nobler friend? Another thought was mine ; I came among you here so suddenly. That tho' her gentle presence at the lists Might well have served for proof that I was loved, I doubted whether daughter's ten- derness, Or easy nature, might not let itself Be molded by your wishes for her weal ; Or whether some false sense in her own self Of my contrasting brightness, over- bore Her fancy dwelling in this dusky hall; And such a sense might make her long for court And all its perilous glories: and I thought. That could I someway prove such force in her Link'd with such love for me, that at a word (No reason given her) she could cast aside A splendor dear to women, new to her, And therefore dearer; or if not so new. Yet therefore tenfold dearer by the power Of intermitted usage; then I felt That I could rest, a rock in ebbs and flows, Fixt on her faith. Now, therefore, I do rest, A prophet certain of my prophecy. That never shadow of mistrust can cross Between us. Grant me pardon for my thoughts: And for my strange petition I will make Amends hereafter by some gaudy- day, When your fair child shall wear your costly gift Beside your own warm hearth, with, on her knees. GERAINT AND ENID 235 Who knows? another gift of the high God, Which, maybe, shall have learn'd to lisp you thanks." He spoke: the mother smiled, but half in tears, Then brought a mantle down and wrapt her in it, And claspt and kiss'd her, and they rode away. Now thrice that morning Guine- vere had climb'd The giant tower, from whose high crest, they say, Men saw the goodly hills of Somer- set, And white sails flying on the yellow sea; But not to goodly hill or yellow sea Look'd the fair Queen, but up the vale of Usk, By the flat meadow, till she saw them come ; And then descending met them at the gates. Embraced her with all welcome as a friend. And did her honor as the Prince's bride, And clothed her for her bridals like the sun ; And all that week was old Caerleon gay, For by the hands of Dubric, the high saint. They twain were wedded with all ceremony. And this was on the last 3'ear's Whitsuntide. But Enid ever kept the faded silk, Remembering how first he came on her, Drest in that dress, and how he loved her in it, And all her foolish fears about the dress, And all his journey toward her, as himself Had told her, and their coming to the court. And now this morning when he said to her, " Put on your worst and meanest dress," she found And took it, and array'd herself therein. GERAINT AND ENID O PURBLIND race of miserable men How many among us at this very hour Do forge a life-long trouble for our- selves. By taking true for false, or false for true; Here, thro' the feeble twilight of this world Groping, how many, until we pass and reach That other, where we see as we are So fared it with Geraint, who issuing forth That morning, when they both had got to horse. Perhaps because he loved her pas- sionately, And felt that tempest brooding round his heart, Which, if he spoke at all, would break perforce Upon a head so dear in thunder, said: " Not at my side. I charge thee ride before, Ever a good way on before; and this I charge thee, on thy duty as a wife, 236 IDYLLS OF THE KING Whatever happens, not to speak to And there he broke the sentence in me, his heart No, not a word ! " and Enid was Abruptly, as a man upon his tongue aghast; May break it, when his passion And forth they rode, but scarce masters him. three paces on. And she was ever praying the sweet When crying out, " Effeminate as I heavens am. To save her dear lord whole from I will not fight my way with gilded any wound. arms. And ever in her mind she cast about All shall be iron ; " he loosed a For that unnoticed failing in herself, mighty purse. Which made him look so cloudy and Hung at his belt, and hurl'd it so cold; toward the squire. Till the great plover's human whistle So the last sight that Enid had of amazed home Her heart, and glancing round the Was all the marble threshold flash- waste she fear'd ing, strown In every wavering brake an ambus- With gold and scatter'd coinage, and cade. the squire Then thought again, " If there be Chafing his shoulder: then he cried such in me, again, I might amend it by the grace of "To the wilds!" and Enid leading Heaven, down the tracks If he would only speak and tell me Thro' which he bade her lead him on, of it." they past The marches, and by bandit-haunted But when the fourth part of the holds, day was gone. Gray swamps and pools, waste places Then Enid was aware of three tall of the hern, knights And wildernesses, perilous paths, On horseback, wholly arm'd, behind they rode: a rock Round was their pace at first, but In shadow, waiting for them, caitiffs slacken'd soon : all ; A stranger meeting them had surely And heard one crying to his fellows, thought " Look, They rode so slowly and they look'd Here comes a laggard hanging down so pale, his head. That each had suffer 'd some exceed- Who seems no bolder than a beaten ing wrong. hound ; For he was ever saying to him- Come, we will slay him and will self, have his horse " O I that wasted time to tend upon And armor, and his damsel shall be her, ours." To compass her with sweet observ- ances, Then Enid ponder'd in her heart, To dress her beautifully and keep and said : her true " — " I will go back a little to my lord, GERAINT AND ENID 237 And I will tell him all their caitiff Swung from his brand a windy buf- talk; fet out For, be he wroth even to slaying me, Once, twice, to right, to left, and Far liefer by his dear hand had I stunn'd the twain die. Or slew them, and dismounting like Than that my lord should suffer a man loss or shame." That skins the wild beast after slay- ing him, Then she went back some paces Stript from the three dead wolves of of return woman born Met his full frown timidly firm, and The three gay suits of armor which said ; they wore, " My lord, I saw three bandits by the And let the bodies lie, but bound rock the suits Waiting to fall on you, and heard Of armor on their horses, each on them boast each. That they would slay you, and pos- And tied the bridle-reins of all the sess your horse three And armor, and your damsel should Together, and said to her, " Drive be theirs." them on Before you ; " and she drove them He made a wrathful answer; thro' the waste. " Did I wish Your warning or your silence? one command He follow'd nearer: ruth began to I laid upon you, not to speak to me, work And thus ye keep it! Well, then, Against his anger in him, while he look — for now, watch'd Whether ye wish me victory or de- The being he loved best in all the feat, world, Long for my life, or hunger for my With difficulty in mild obedience death, Driving them on : he fain had spoken Yourself shall see my vigor is not to her, lost." And loosed in words of sudden fire the wrath Then Enid waited pale and sor- And smolder'd wrong that burnt rowful, him all within ; And down upon him bare the bandit But evermore it seem'd an easier three. thing And at the midmost charging, At once without remorse to strike Prince Geraint her dead, Drave the long spear a cubit thro' Than to cry " Halt," and to her own his breast bright face And out beyond; and then against Accuse her of the least immodesty: his brace And thus tongue-tied, it made him Of comrades, each of whom had wroth the more broken on him That she could speak whom his own A lance that splinter'd like an icicle, ear had heard 238 IDYLLS OF THE KING Call herself false: and suffering thus I save a life dearer to me than he made mine." Minutes an age: but in scarce longer time And she abode his coming, and Than at Caerleon the full-tided said to him Usk, With timid firmness, " Have I leave Before he turn to fall seaward again, to speak? " Pauses, did Enid, keeping watch. He said, " Ye take it, speaking," and behold she spoke. In the first shallow shade of a deep wood, " There lurk three villains yonder Before a gloom of stubborn-shafted in the wood, oaks. And each of them is wholly arm'd, Three other horsemen waiting, and one wholly arm'd. Is larger-Hmb'd than you are, and Whereof one seem'd far larger than they say her lord, That they will fall upon you while And shook her pulses, crying, " Look, ye iiass." a prize! Three horses and three goodly suits To which he flung a wrathful of arms, answer back: And all in charge of whom? a girl: "And if there were an hundred in set on." the wood, " Nay," said the second, " yonder And every man were larger-limb'd comes a knight." than I, The third, " A craven ; how he hangs And all at once should sally out his head." upon me. The giant answer'd merrily, " Yea, I swear it would not ruffle me so but one? much Wait here, and when he passes fall As you that not obey me. Stand upon him." aside. And if I fall, cleave to the better man." And Enid ponder'd in her heart and said. And Enid stood aside to wait the *' I will abide the coming of my event, lord. Not dare to watch the combat, only And I will tell him all their villainy. breathe My lord is weary with the fight be- Short fits of prayer, at every stroke fore, a breath. And they will fall upon him un- And he, she dreaded most, bare awares. down upon him. I needs must disobey him for his Aim'd at the helm, his lance err'd; good; but Geraint's, How should I dare obey him to his A little in the late encounter harm? strain'd, Needs must I speak, and tho' he kill Struck thro' the bulky bandit's corse* me for it, let home, GERAINT AND ENID 239 And then brake short, and down his Together, and said to her, " Drive enemy roU'd, them on And there lay still; as he that tells Before you," and she drove them the tale thro' the wood. Saw once a great piece of a promon- ^TM ^P'l 1- • •. He follow'd nearer still: the pain 1 hat had a saplmg growmg on it, h h H T- , , , ,-rc' -J To keep them in the wild ways of t rom the long shore-cim s wmdy ^u j 11 L L u the wood, walls to the beach, rj^ ^ i ^u i j -^t •• . J , ,. .,, J ^ , Iwo sets of three laden with jmg- And there he still, and yet the sap- ,. ,. _ -^ ling arms, r, ii_" ^ rr^Tj* Together, served a little to disedge So lay the man transhxt. His ^, '^ , ' j- ^u . • u ^ t ■' . 1 he sharpness of that pain about her craven pair li f • Of comrades making slowlier at the a j .1 \u i n r> • And they themselves, like creatures rrince, j , When now they saw their bulwark o.-.uju jrii' j J- ,, ^ J i>ut into bad hands fall n, and now falkn, stood ; , On whom the victor, to confound y, u j-^ jj • i ' i ^u • , By bandits groom d, prick d their them more, -^ ,. , ^ ^ j x u c 'J vu u- * -ui . light ears, and felt Spurr d with his terrible war-cry ^^ ^ n • j ^ j ^ r Her low nrm voice and tender gov- for as one, --nv- . 1- ^ ^ ^ ernment. 1 hat listens near a torrent moun- tain-brook, All thro' the crash of the near cata- So thro' the green gloom of the ract hears wood they past. The drumming thunder of the huger And issuing under open heavens fall beheld At distance, where the soldiers wont A little town with towers, upon a to hear rock, His voice in battle, and be kindled And close beneath, a meadow gem- by it, like chased And foemen scared, like that false In the brown wild, and mowers pair who turn'd mowing in it: Flying, but, overtaken, died the death And down a rocky pathway from the Themselves had wrought on many place an innocent. There came a fair-hair'd youth, that in his hand Thereon Geraint, dismounting. Bare victual for the mowers: and pick'd the lance Geraint That pleased him best, and drew Had ruth again on Enid looking from those dead wolves pale : Their three gay suits of armor, each Then, moving downward to the from each, meadow ground, And bound them on their horses. He, when the fair-hair'd youth came each on each, by him, said, And tied the bridle-reins of all the "Friend, let her eat; the damsel is three so faint." 240 IDYLLS OF THE KING " Yea, willingly," replied the youth ; Then said Geraint, " I wish no "and thou, better fare: My lord, eat also, tho' the fare is I never ate with angrier appetite coarse, Than when I left your mowers din- And only meet for mowers ; " then nerless. set down And into no Earl's palace will I go. His basket, and dismounting on the I know, God knows, too much of sward palaces ! They let the horses graze, and ate And if he want me, let him come to themselves. me. And Enid took a little delicately. But hire us some fair chamber for Less having stomach for it than de- the night, sire And stalling for the horses, and To close with her lord's pleasure; return but Geraint With victual for these men, and let Ate all the mowers' victual un- us know." awares, And when he found all empty, was " Yea, my kind lord," said the amazed; glad youth, and went, And " Boy," said he, " I have eaten Held his head high, and thought all, but take himself a knight, A horse and arms for guerdon; And up the rocky pathway disap- choose the best." pear'd, He, reddening in extremity of de- Leading the horse, and they were light, left alone. " My lord, you overpay me fifty- fold." But when the Prince had brought " Ye will be all the wealthier," cried his errant eyes the Prince. Home from the rock, sideways he let " I take it as free gift, then," said them glance the boy, At Enid, where she droopt: his own " Not guerdon ; for myself can easily, false doom. While your good damsel rests, re- That shadow of mistrust should turn, and fetch never cross Fresh victual for these mowers of our Betwixt them, came upon him, and Earl; he sigh'd ; For these are his, and all the field Then with another humorous ruth is his, remark'd And I myself am his; and I will tell The lusty mowers laboring dinner- him less, How great a man thou art: he loves And watch'd the sun blaze on the to know turning scythe, When men of mark are in his terri- And after nodded sleepily in the tory: heat. And he will have thee to his palace But she, remembering her old ruin'd here, hall, And serve thee costlier than with And all the windy clamor of the mowers' fare." daws GERAINT AND ENID 241 About her hollow turret, pluck'd the Found Enid with the corner of his grass eye, There growing longest by the mead- And knew her sitting sad and soli- ow's edge, tary. And into many a listless annulet, Then cried Geraint for wine and Now over, now beneath her mar- goodly cheer riage ring. To feed the sudden guest, and sump- Wove and unwove it, till the boy tuously return'd According to his fashion, bade the And told them of a chamber, and host they went; Call in what men soever were his Where, after saying to her, " If ye friends, will. And feast with these in honor of Call for the woman of the house," their Earl; to which " And care not for the cost ; the cost She answer'd, " Thanks, my lord ; " is mine." the two remain'd Apart by all the chamber's width, and mute And wine and food were brought, As creatures voiceless thro' the fault and Earl Limours of birth, Drank till he jested with all ease. Or two wild men supporters of a and told shield, Free tales, and took the word and Painted, who stare at open space, nor play'd upon it, glance And made it of two colors; for his The one at other, parted by the talk, shield. When wine and free companions kindled him, On a sudden, many a voice along Was wont to glance and sparkle like the street, a gem And heel against the pavement echo- Of fifty facets; thus he moved the ing, burst Prince Their drowse; and either started To laughter and his comrades to while the door, applause. Push'd from without, drave back- Then, when the Prince was merry, ward to the wall, ask'd Limours, And midmost of a rout of roisterers, " Your leave, my lord, to cross the Femininely fair and dissolutely pale, room, and speak Her suitor in old years before Ger- To your good damsel there who sits aint, apart, Enter'd, the wild lord of the place. And seems so lonely?" "My free Limours. leave," he said ; He moving up with pliant courtli- "Get her to speak: she doth not ness, speak to me." Greeted Geraint full face, but Then rose Limours, and looking at stealthily, his feet. In the mid-warmth of welcome and Like him who tries the bridge he graspt hand, fears may fail, 242 IDYLLS OF THE KING Crost and came near, lifted adoring A wretched insult on you, dumbly eyes, speaks Bow'd at her side and utter'd whis- Your story, that this man loves you peringly: no more. Your beauty is no beauty to »him now : " Enid, the pilot star of my lone A common chance — right well I life, know it — pall'd — Enid, my early and my only love, For I know men : nor will ye win Enid, the loss of whom hath turn'd him back, me wild — For the man's love once gone never What chance is this? how is it I see returns. you here ? But here is one who loves you as of Ye are in my power at last, are in old ; my power. With more exceeding passion than Yet fear me not: I call mine own of old: self wild. Good, speak the word : my followers But keep a touch of sweet civility ring him round : Here in the heart and waste of wil- He sits unarm'd; I hold a finger up; derness. They understand: nay; I do not I thought, but that your father came mean blood : between. Nor need ye look so scared at what I In former days you saw me favor- say: ably. My malice is no deeper than a moat, And if it were so do not keep it No stronger than a wall: there is the back : keep ; Make me a little happier: let me He shall not cross us more; speak know it: but the word: Owe you me nothing for a life half- Or speak it not; but then by Him lost? that made me Yea, yea, the whole dear debt of all The one true lover whom you ever you are. own'd, And, Enid, you and he, I see with I will make use of all the power I joy, have. Ye sit apart, you do not speak to O pardon me! the madness of that him, hour. You come with no attendance, page When first I parted from thee, or maid, moves me yet." To serve you — doth he love you as of old ? For, call it lovers' quarrels, yet I At this the tender sound of his know own voice Tho' men may bicker with the things And sweet self-pity, or the fancy of they love, it. They would not make them laugh- Made his eye moist; but Enid able in all eyes, fear'd his eyes. Not while they loved them; and Moist as they were, wine-heated your wretched dress, from the feast; GERAINT AND ENID 243 And answer'd with such craft as All to be there against a sudden women use, need ; Guilty or guiltless, to stave off a Then dozed awhile herself, but over- chance toil'd That breaks upon them perilously, By that day's grief and travel, ever- and said : more Seem'd catching at a rootless thorn, " Earl, if you love me as in for- and then mer years, Went slipping down horrible preci- Atnd do not practise on me, come pices, with morn, And strongly striking out her limbs And snatch me from him as by vio- awoke ; lence; Then thought she heard the wild Leave me to-night: I am weary to Earl at the door, the death." With all his rout of random fol- lowers. Low at leave-taking, with his Sound on a dreadful trumpet, sum- brandish'd plume moning iier; Brushing his instep, bow'd the all- Which was the red cock shouting to amorous Earl, the light, And the stout Prince bade him a loud As the gray dawn stole o'er the good-night. dewy world, He moving homeward babbled to his And glimmer'd on his armor in the men, room. How Enid never loved a man but And once again she rose to look at him, it, Nor cared a broken egg-shell for her But touch'd it unawares: jangling, lord. the casque Fell, and he started up and stared at But Enid left alone with Prince her. Geraint, Then breaking his command of Debating his command of silence silence given, given, She told him all that Earl Limours And that she now perforce must had said, violate it, Except the passage that he loved her Held commune with herself, and not; while she held Nor left untold the craft herself had He fell asleep, and Enid had no used ; heart But ended with apology so sweet, To wake him, but hung o'er him, Low-spoken, and of so few words, wholly pleased and seem'd To find him yet unwounded after So justified by that necessity, flight, ^ That tho' he thought, " Was it for And hear him breathing low and him she wept equally. In Devon?" he but gave a wrathful Anon she rose, and stepping lightly, groan, heap'd Saying, " Your sweet faces make The pieces of his armor in one place, good fellows fools 244 IDYLLS OF THE KING And traitors. Call the host and bid "Yea so," said he, "do it: be not him bring too wise; Charger and palfrey." So she glided Seeing that ye are wedded to a man, out Not all mismated with a yawning Among the heavy breathings of the clown, house, But one with arms to guard his head And like a household Spirit at the and yours, walls With eyes to find you out however Beat, till she woke the sleepers, and far, return'd: And ears to hear you even in his Then tending her rough lord, tho' dreams." all unask'd, In silence, did him service as a ^j^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^,^ ^^^ ^^^^,^ ^^ squire; keenly at her Till issuing arm'd he found the host ^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^-^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^,^ and cried, ^.^jj . "Thy reckoning, friend?" and ere ^^^ ^^^^ ^.^^.^ ^^^^ ^^.^^ ^ ^^^^. he learnt it. Take ^^^ ^^^j Five horses and their armors;" and q^ j^^ .^'^^^^ ^^.^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^y^ the host ^ j^^j. Q^ Suddenly honest, answer d in amaze, ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^.^^^^ My lord, I scarce have spent the ^.^ ^^^ worth of one!" ^^^^ Geraint look'd and was not " Ye will be all the wealthier, said satisfied the Prince, And then to Enid, " Forward ! and to-day Then forward by a way which, I charge you, Enid, more especially, beaten broad, What thing soever ye may hear, or Led from the territory of false see Limours Or fancy (tho' I count it of small To the waste earldom of another use carl. To charge you) that ye speak not Doorm, whom his shaking vassals but obey." call'd the Bull, Went Enid with her sullen follower on. And Enid answer'd, " Yea, my Once she look'd back, and when she lord, I know saw him ride Your wish, and would obey; but rid- More near by many a rood than yes- ing first, ter-morn, I hear the violent threats you do not It well-nigh made her cheerful; till hear, Geraint I see the danger which you cannot Waving an angry hand as who see: should say Then not to give you warning, that " Ye watch me," sadden'd all her seems hard; heart again. Almost beyond me: yet I would But while the sun yet beat a dewy obey." blade GERAINT AND ENID 245 The sound of many a heavily-gallop- ing hoof Smote on her ear, and turning round she saw Dust, and the points of lances bicker in it. Then not to disobey her lord's be- hest, And yet to give him warning, for he rode As if he heard not, moving back she held Her finger up, and pointed to the dust. At which the warrior in his obsti- nacy. Because she kept the letter of his word, Was in a manner pleased, and turn- ing, stood. And in a moment after, wild Li- mours, Borne on a black horse, like a thun- der-cloud Whose skirts are loosen'd by the breaking storm, Half ridden off with by the thing he rode, And all in passion uttering a dry shriek, Dash'd on Geraint, who closed with him, and bore Down by the length of lance and arm beyond The crupper, and so left him stunn'd or dead. And overthrew the next that follow'd him. And blindly rush'd on all the rout behind. But at the flash and motion of the man They vanish'd panic-stricken, like a shoal Of darting fish, that on a summer morn Adown the crystal dykes at Came- lot Come slipping o'er their shadows on the sand. But if a man who stands upon the brink But lift a shining hand against the sun, There is not left the twinkle of a fin Betwixt the cressy islets white in flower ; So, scared but at the motion of the man, Fled all the boon companions of the Earl, And left him lying in the public way; So vanish friendships only made in wine. Then like a stormy sunlight smiled Geraint, Who saw the chargers of the two that fell Start from their fallen lords, and wildly fly, Mixt with the flyers. " Horse and man," he said, " All of one mind and all right- honest friends ! Not a hoof left: and I methinks till now Was honest — paid with horses and with arms; I cannot steal or plunder, no nor beg: And so what say ye, shall we strip him there Your lover? has your palfrey heart enough To bear his armor? shall we fast, or dine? No? — then do thou, being right honest, pray That we may meet the horsemen of Earl Doorm, I too would still be honest." Thus he said : And sadly gazing on her bridle-reins. 246 IDYLLS OF THE KING And answering not one word, she Upon her, and she wept beside the led the way. way. But as a man to whom a dreadful And many past, but none re- loss garded her, Falls in a far land and he knows it For in that realm of lawless turbu- not, lence, But coming back he learns it, and A woman weeping for her murder'd the loss mate So pains him that he sickens nigh to Was cared as much for as a summer death ; shower : So fared it with Geraint, who being One took him for a victim of Earl prick'd Doorm, In combat with the follower of Nor dared to waste a perilous pity Limours, on him: Bled underneath his armor secretly. Another hurrying past, a man-at- And so rode on, nor told his gentle arms, wife Rode on a mission to the bandit What ail'd him, hardly knowing it Earl; himself, Half whistling and half singing a Till his eye darken'd and his helmet coarse song, wagg'd ; He drove the dust against her veil- And at a sudden swerving of the less eyes: road. Another, flying from the wrath of Tho' happily down on a bank of Doorm grass, Before an ever-fancied arrow, made The Prince, without a word, from The long way smoke beneath him in his horse fell. his fear; At which her palfrey whinnying And Enid heard the clashing of , , ,, .' , . , , • f ,1 And scour d mto the coppices and Suddenly came, and at his side all -itti ., , ' , , I While the great charger stood, D. • , J ^u I .. ' grieved like a man. ismounting, loosed the fastenings " of his arms. Nor let her true hand falter, nor But at the point of noon the huge blue eye Earl Doorm, Moisten, till she had lighted on his Broad-faced with under-fringe of wound, russet beard. And tearing off her veil of faded silk Bound on a foray, rolling eyes of Had bared her forehead to the blis- prey, tering sun. Came riding with a hundred lances And swathed the hurt that drain'd up ; her dear lord's life. But ere he came, like one that hails Then after all was done that hand a ship, could do. Cried out with a big voice, "What, She rested, and her desolation came is he dead ? " GERAINT AND ENID 247 ■** No, no, not dead!" she answer'd Yet raised and laid him on a litter- in all haste. bier, " Would some of your kind people Such as they brought upon their take him up, forays out And bear him hence out of this cruel For those that might be wounded ; sun? laid him on it Most sure am I, quite sure, he is not All in the hollow of his shield, and dead." took And bore him to the naked hall of Then said Earl Doorm : " Well, Doorm, if he be not dead, (His gentle charger following him Why wail ye for him thus? ye seem unled) a child. And cast him and the bier in which And be he dead, I count you for a he lay fool ; Down on an oaken settle in the hall, Your wailing will not quicken him: And then departed, hot in haste to dead or not, join Ye mar a comely face with idiot Their luckier mates, but growling as tears. before, Yet, since the face is comely — some And cursing their lost time, and the of you, dead man, Here, take him up, and bear him to And their own Earl, and their own our hall: souls, and her An if he live, we will have him of They might as well have blest her: our band ; she was deaf And if he die, why earth has earth To blessing or to cursing save from enough one. To hide him. See ye take the charger, too. So for long hours sat Enid by her A noble one." lord. There in the naked hall, propping his He spake, and past away, head. But left two brawny spearmen, who And chafing his pale hands, and call- advanced, ing to him. Each growling like a dog, when his Till at the last he waken'd from his good bone swoon, Seems to be pluck'd at by the village And found his own dear bride prop- boys ping his head. Who love to vex him eating, and he And chafing his faint hands, and fears . calling to him ; To lose his bone, and lays his foot And felt the warm tears falling on upon it, his face; Gnawing and growling: so the And said to his own heart, "She ruffians growl'd, weeps for me:" Fearing to lose, and all for a dead And yet lay still, and feign'd himself man, as dead, Their chance of booty from the That he might prove her to the morning's raid, uttermost. 248 IDYLLS OF THE KING And say to his own heart, " She And rising on the sudden he said, weeps for me." "Eat! I never yet beheld a thing so pale. But in the falling afternoon re- God's curse, it makes me mad to see turn'd you weep. The huge Earl Doorm with plunder Eat! Look yourself. Good luck to the hall. had your good man, His lusty spearmen foUow'd him For were I dead who is it would with noise: weep for me? Each hurling down a heap of things Sweet lady, never since I first drew that rang breath Against the pavement, cast his lance Have I beheld a lily like yourself. aside. And so there lived some color in And doff'd his helm: and then there your cheek, flutter'd in. There is not one among my gentle- Half-bold, half-frightened, with di- women lated eyes, Were fit to wear your slipper for a A tribe of women, dress'd in many glove. hues, But listen to me, and by me be ruled, And mingled with the spearmen: And I will do the thing I have not and Earl Doorm done. Struck with a knife's haft hard For ye shall share my earldom with against the board, me, C'rl, And call'd for flesh and wine to feed And we will live like two birds in his spears. one nest, And men brought in whole hogs and And I will fetch you forage from all quarter beeves, fields, And all the hall was dim with steam For I compel all creatures to my of flesh: will." And none spake word, but all sat down at once, He spoke: the brawny spearman And ate with tumult in the naked let his cheek hall, Bulge with the unswallow'd piece^ Feeding like horses when you hear and turning stared; them feed ; While some, whose souls the old Till Enid shrank far back into her- serpent long had drawn self, Down, as the worm draws in the To shun the wild ways of the lawless wither'd leaf tribe. And makes it earth, hiss'd each at But when Earl Doorm had eaten all other's ear he would. What shall not be recorded — He roll'd his eyes about the hall, women they, and found Women, or what had been those A damsel drooping in a corner of it. gracious things, Then he remember'd her, and how But now desired the humbling of she wept ; their best, And out of her there came a power Yea, would have help'd him to it: upon him; and all at once GERAINT AND ENID 249 They hated her, who took no thought Before I well have drunken, scarce of them, can eat: But answer'd in low voice, her meek Drink, therefore, and the wine wall head yet change your will." Drooping, " I pray you of your cour- TT L^^-^^' . • 1 u M " Not so," she cried, " by Heaven, He bemg as he is, to let me be. j ^jj^ ^^^ ^^-^^ Till my dear lord arise and bid me She spake so low he hardly heard do it, her speak, And drink with me ; and if he rise no But like a mighty patron, satisfied more. With what himself had done so gra- i ^{\i not look at wine until I die." ciously, Assumed that she had thank'd him, . , . , » , n , i 3 adding, " Yea, V In ^"'" ' Eat and be glad, for I account you ^^ '^^^ ,', , . , , • • >> JNow gnaw d his under, now his upper lip, f,, ,j ,, « u And coming up close to her, said at She answer d meekly, How , ^ should I be glad ..(.j^j /^^ J g^^ g^^^^ ^^^^. Henceforth in all the world at any- JcVc TT -1 '"^' , , . Ill Take warning: yonder man is surely Until my lord arise and look upon d ad • "^^' And I compel all creatures to my will. Here the huge Earl cried out upon jsj^^ ^^^ ^^^^ drink? And wherefore her talk, ^aQ fQj- one. As all but empty heart and weari- ^^o put your beauty to this flout "^^^ and scorn And sickly nothing; suddenly seized gy dressing it in rags? Amazed am on her, j And bare her by main violence to the Beholding how ye butt against my board, ^vish, And thrust the dish before her, cry- xh^^. j forbear you thus: cross me ing, ' Eat. no more. At least put off to please me this " No, no," said Enid, vext, " I poor gown, will not eat This silken rag, this beggar-woman's Till yonder man upon the bier arise, weed : And eat with me." " Drink, then," I love that beauty should go beauti- he answer'd. "Herel" fully: (And fiU'd a horn with wine and For see ye not my gentlewomen held it to her), here, "Lo! I, myself, when flush'd with How gay, how suited to the house of fight, or hot, one God's curse, with anger — often I Who loves that beauty should go myself, beautifully ? 250 IDYLLS OF THE KING Rise therefore; robe yourself in this: obey." He spoke, and one among his gen- tle-women Display'd a splendid silk of foreign loom, Where like a shoaling sea the lovely blue Play'd into green, and thicker down the front With jewels than the sward with drops of dew, When all night long a cloud clings to the hill. And with the dawn ascending lets the day Strike where it clung: so thickly shone the gems. But Enid answer'd, harder to be moved Than hardest tyrants in their day of power, With lifelong injuries burning un- avenged. And now their hour has come; and Enid said: " In this poor gown my dear lord found, me first, And loved me serving in my father's hall : In this poor gown I rode with him to court. And there the Queen array'd me like the sun: In this poor gown he bade me clothe myself, When now we rode upon this fatal quest Of honor, where no honor can be gain'd : And this poor gown I will not cast aside Until himself arise a living man, And bid me cast it. I have griefs enough : Pray you be gentle, pray you let me be: I never loved, can never love but him: Yea, God, I pray you of your gen- tleness, He being as he is, to let me be." Then strode the brute Earl up and down his hall. And took his russet beard between his teeth ; Last, coming up quite close, and in his mood Crying, " I count it of no more avail, Dame, to be gentle than ungentle with you ; Take my salute," unknightly with flat hand. However lightly, smote her on the cheek. Then Enid, in her utter helpless- ness. And since she thought, " He had not dared to do it. Except he surely knew my lord was dead," Sent forth a sudden sharp and bitter cry. As of a wild thing taken in a trap, WTiich sees the trapper coming thro' the wood. This heard Geraint, and grasping at his sword, (It lay beside him in the hollow shield). Made but a single bound, and with a sweep of it Shore thro' the swarthy neck, and like a ball The russet-bearded head roll'd on the floor. So died Earl Doorm by him he counted dead. And all the men and women In the hall GERAINT AND ENID 251 Rose when they saw the dead man Neigh'd with all gladness as they rise, and fled came, and stoop'd Yelling as from a specter, and the With a low whinny toward the pair: two and she Were left alone together, and he Kiss'd the white star upon his noble said : front, Glad also; then Geraint upon the " Enid, I have used you worse horse than that dead man ; Mounted, and reach'd a hand, and Done you more wrong: we both on his foot have undergone She set her own and climb'd ; he That trouble which has left me turn'd his face thrice your own: And kiss'd her climbing, and she Henceforward I will rather die than cast her arms doubt. About him, and at once they rode And here I lay this penance on my- away. self. Not, tho' mine own ears heard you And never yet, since high in Para- yestermorn — dise You thought me sleeping, but I O'er the four rivers the first roses heard you say, blew, I heard you say, that you were no Came purer pleasure unto mortal true wife: kind I swear I will not ask your meaning Than lived thro' her, who in that in it: perilous hour I do believe yourself against your- Put hand to hand beneath her hus- self, band's heart, And will henceforward rather die And felt him hers again: she did not than doubt." weep, But o'er her meek eyes came a happy And Enid could not say one ten- mist der word. Like that which kept the heart of She felt so blunt and stupid at the Eden green heart : Before the useful trouble of the rain : She only pray'd him, " Fly, they will Yet not so misty were her meek blue return eyes And slay you; fly, your charger is As not to see before them on the without, path, My palfrey lost." " Then, Enid, Right in the gateway of the bandit shall you ride hold, Behind me." " Yea," said Enid, A knight of Arthur's court, who laid " let us go." his lance And moving out they found the In rest, and made as if to fall upon stately horse, him. WTio now no more a vassal to the Then, fearing for his hurt and loss thief, of blood. But free to stretch his limbs in law- She, with her mind all full of what ful fight, had chanced, 2^2 IDYLLS OF THE KING Shriek'd to the stranger, " Slay not a Are scatter'd," and he pointed to the dead man! " field, " The voice of Enid," said the Where, huddled here and there on knight; but she, mound and knoll, Beholding it was Edyrn, son of Were men and women staring and Nudd, aghast. Was moved so much the more, and While some yet fled ; and then he shriek'd again, plainlier told " O cousin, slay not him who gave How the huge Earl lay slain within you life." his hall. And Edyrn moving frankly forward But w'hen the knight besought him, spake: "Follow me, " My lord Geraint, I greet you with Prince, to the camp, and in the all love; King's own ear I took you for a bandit knight of Speak what has chanced ; ye surely Doorm ; have endured And fear not, Enid, I should fall Strange chances here alone ; " that upon him, other flush'd. Who love you. Prince, with some- And hung his head, and halted in thing of the love reply, Wherewith we love the Heaven that Fearing the mild face of the blame- chastens us. less King, For once when I was up so high in And after madness acted question pride ask'd : That I was halfway down the slope Till Edyrn crying, "If ye will not to Hell, go By overthrowing me you threw me To Arthur, then will Arthur come higher. to you," Now, made a knight of Arthur's " Enough," he said, " I follow," and Table Round, they went. And since I knew this Earl, when I But Enid in their going had two myself fears. Was half a bandit in my lawless One from the bandit scatter'd in the hour, field, I come the mouthpiece of our King And one from Edyrn. Every now to Doorm and then, (The King is close behind me) bid- When Edyrn rein'd his charger at ding him her side, Disband himself, and scatter all his She shrank a little. In a hollow powers, land. Submit, and hear the judgment of From which old fires have broken, the King." men may fear Fresh fire and ruin. He, perceiv- ing, said: " He hears the judgment of the King of kings," Cried the wan Prince; "and lo, the "Fair and dear cousin, you that powers of Doorm most had cause GERAINT AND ENID 255 To fear me, fear no longer, I am And set his foot upon me, and give changed. me life. Yourself were first the blameless There was I broken down; there was cause to make I saved : My nature's prideful sparkle in the Tho' thence I rode all-shamed, blood hating the life Break into furious flame; being re- He gave me, meaning to be rid of it, pulsed And all the penance the Queen laid By Yniol and yourself, I schemed upon me and wrought Was but to rest awhile within her Until I overturn'd him ; then set up court ; (With one main purpose ever at my Where first as sullen as a beast new- heart) caged, My haughty jousts, and took a para- And waiting to be treated like a mour; wolf, Did her mock-honor as the fairest Because I knew my deeds were fair, known, I found, And, toppling over all antagonism. Instead of scornful pity or pure So wax'd in pride, that I believed scorn, myself Such fine reserve and noble reticence. Unconquerable, for I was well-nigh Manners so kind, yet stately, such a mad : grace And, but for my main purpose in Of tenderest courtesy, that I began these jousts, To glance behind me at my former I should have slain your father, life, seized yourself. And find that it had been the wolf's I lived in hope that sometime you indeed : would come And oft I talk'd with Dubric, the To these my lists with him whom high saint, best you loved ; Who, with mild heat of holy oratory, And there, poor cousin, with your Subdued me somewhat to that gen- meek blue eyes, tleness. The truest eyes that ever answer'd Which, when it weds with man- Heaven, hood, makes a man. Behold me overturn and trample on And you were often there about the him. Queen, Then, had you cried, or knelt, or But saw me not, or mark'd not if j'ou pray'd to me, saw; I should not less have kill'd him. Nor did I care or dare to speak with And you came, — you, But once you came, — and with your But kept myself aloof till I was own true eyes changed ; Beheld the man you loved (I speak And fear not, cousin; I am changed as one indeed." Speaks of a service done him) over- throw He spoke, and Enid easily be- My proud self, and my purpose lieved, three years old. Like simple noble natures, credulous 254 IDYLLS OF THE KING Of what they long for, good in friend The world will not believe a man or foe, repents: There most in those who most have And this wise world of ours is done them ill. mainly right. And when they reach'd the camp the Full seldom doth a man repent, or King himself use Advanced to greet them, and behold- Both grace and will to pick the ing her vicious quitch Tho' pale, yet happy, ask'd her not Of blood and custom wholly out of a word, him, But went apart with Edyrn, whom And make all clean, and plant himself he held afresh. In converse for a little, and return'd, Edyrn has done it, weeding all his And, gravely smiling, lifted her from heart horse, As I will weed this land before I go. And kiss'd her with all pureness, I, therefore, made him of our Table brotherlike. Round, And show'd an empty tent allotted Not rashly, but have proved him her, everyway And glancing for a minute, till he One of our noblest, our most valor- saw her ous, Pass into it, turn'd to the Prince, Sanest and most obedient: and indeed and said: This work of Edyrn wrought upon himself " Prince, when of late ye pray'd After a life of violence, seems to me me for my leave A thousand-fold more great and won- To move to your own land, and derful there defend Than if some knight of mine, risking Your marches, I was prick'd with his life, some reproof. My subject with my subjects under As one that let foul wrong stagnate him, and be, Should make an onslaught single on a By having look'd too much thro' realm alien eyes, Of robbers, tho' he slew them one by And wrought too long with dele- one, gated hands, And were himself nigh wounded to Not used mine own: but now be- the death." hold me come To cleanse this common sewer of all So spake the King; low bow'd the my realm. Prince, and felt With Edyrn and with others: have His work was neither great nor won- ye look'd derful. At Edyrn? have ye seen how nobly And past to Enid's tent; and thither changed? came This work of his is great and won- The King's own leech to look into derful. his hurt; His very face with change of heart And Enid tended on him there; and is changed. there GERAINT AND ENID 255 Her constant motion round him, and And clothed her in apparel like the the breath day. Of her sweet tendance hovering over And tho' Geraint could never take him, again Fill'd all the genial courses of his That comfort from their converse blood which he took With deeper and with ever deeper Before the Queen's fair name was love breathed upon, As the south-west that blowing Bala He rested well content that all was lake well. Fills all the sacred Dee. So past the Thence after tarrying for a space they days. rode. And fifty knights rode with them to But while Geraint lay healing of the shores his hurt, Of Severn, and they past to their own The blameless King went forth and land, cast his eyes And there he kept the justice of the On each of all whom Uther left in King charge So vigorously yet mildly, that all Long since, to guard the justice of hearts the King: Applauded, and the spiteful whisper He look'd and found them wanting; died: and as now And being ever foremost in the Men weed the white horse on the chase, Berkshire hills And victor at the tilt and tourna- To keep him bright and clean as ment, heretofore, They call'd him the great Prince and He rooted out the slothful officer man of men. Or guilty, which for bribe had wink'd But Enid, whom her ladies loved to at wrong, call And in their chairs set up a stronger Enid the Fair, a grateful people race named With hearts and hands, and sent a Enid the Good ; and in their halls thousand men arose To till the wastes, and moving every- The cry of children, Enids and Ger- where aints Clear'd the dark places and let in the Of times to be; nor did he doubt her law, more. And broke the bandit holds and But rested in her fealty, till he cleansed the land. crown'd A happy life with a fair death, and Then, when Geraint was whole fell again, they past Against the heathen of the Northern With Arthur to Caerleon upon Usk. Sea There the great Queen once more In battle, fighting for the blameless embraced her friend. King. 2^6 IDYLLS OF THE KING From underneath a plume of lady- BALIN AND BALAN fern, Sang, and the sand danced at the bot- Pellam, the King, who held and torn of it. lost with Lot And on the right of Balin Balin's In that first war, and had his realm horse restored Was fast beside an alder, on the left But render'd tributary, fail'd of late Of Balan Balan's near a poplartree. To send his tribute; wherefore Ar- "Fair Sirs," said Arthur, " where- thur call'd fore sit ye here?" His treasurer, one of many years, and Balin and Balan answer'd, " For spake, the sake "Go thou with him and him and Of glory; we be mightier men than bring it to us, all Lest we should set one truer on his In Arthur's court ; that also have we throne. proved ; Man's word is God in man." For whatsoever knight against us came His Baron said Or I or he have easily overthrown." '" We go but barken : there be two " I, too," said Arthur, " am of strange knights Arthur's hall. Who sit near Camelot at a fountain But rather proven in his Paynim wars side. Than famous jousts; but see, or A mile beneath the forest, challenging proven or not, And overthrowing every knight who Whether me likewise ye can over- comes, throw," Wilt thou I undertake them as we And Arthur lightly smote the breth- pass, ren down, And send them to thee?" And lightly so return'd, and no man knew. Arthur laugh'd upon him. " Old friend, too old to be so young, Then Balin rose, and Balan, and depart, beside Delay not thou for ought, but let The caroling water set themselves them sit, again, Until they find a lustier than them- And spake no word until the shadow selves." turn'd ; When from the fringe of coppice So these departed. Early, one fair round them burst dawn, A spangled pursuivant, and crying The light-wing'd spirit of his youth " Sirs, return'd Rise, follow! ye be sent for by the On Arthur's heart; he arm'd himself King," and went. They follow'd ; whom when Arthur So coming to the fountain-side beheld seeing ask'd : Balin and Balan sitting statuelike, " Tell me your names ; why sat ye Brethren, to right and left the spring, by the well? " that down, Balin the stillness of a minute broke BALIN AND BALAN 257 Saying, " An unmelodlous name to To music with thine Order and the thee, King. Balin, ' the Savage ' — that addition Thy chair, a grief to all the breth- thine — ren, stands My brother and my better, this man Vacant, but thou retake it, mine again here, Balan. I smote upon the naked skull A thrall of thine in open hall, my hand Was gauntleted, half slew him ; for I heard He had spoken evil of me; thy just wrath Sent me a three-years' exile from thine eyes. I have not lived my life delight- somely : For I that did that violence to thy thrall. Had often wrought some fury on my- self. Saving for Balan : those three king- less years Have past — were wormwood-bitter to me. King, Methought that if we sat beside the well. And hurl'd to ground what knight soever spurr'd Against us, thou would'st take me gladlier back. And make, as ten-times worthier to be thine Than twenty Balins, Balan knight. I have said. Not so — not all. A man of thine to-day Abash'd us both, and brake my boast. Thy will?" Said Arthur, " Thou hast ever spoken So bush'd about it is with gloom, truth; the hall Thy too fierce manhood would not Of him to whom ye sent us, Pellam, let thee lie. once Rise, my true knight. As children A Christless foe of thine as ever learn, be thou dash'd Wiser for falling! walk with me, Horse against horse; but seeing that and move thy realm Thereafter, when Sir Balin enter'd hall. The Lost one Found was greeted as in Heaven With joy that blazed itself in wood- land wealth Of leaf, and gayest garlandage of flowers. Along the walls and down the board ; they sat, And cup clash'd cup; they drank and someone sang. Sweet-voiced, a song of welcome, whereupon Their common shout in chorus, mounting, made Those banners of twelve battles over- head Stir, as they stirr'd of old, when Arthur's host Proclaim'd him Victor, and the day was won. Then Balan added to their Order lived A wealthier life than heretofore with these And Balin, till their embassage re- turn'd. " Sir King," they brought report, " we hardly found, 258 IDYLLS OF THE KING Hath prosper'd in the name of Christ, the King Took, as in rival heat, to holy things; And finds himself descended from the Saint Arimathaean Joseph ; hiin who first Brought the great faith to Britain over seas ; He boasts his life as purer than thine own; Eats scarce enow to keep his pulse abeat ; Hath push'd aside his faithful wife, nor lets Or dame or damsel enter at his gates Lest he should be polluted. This gray King Show'd us a shrine wherein were wonders — yea — Rich arks with priceless bones of martyrdom. Thorns of the crown and shivers of the cross, And therewithal (for thus he told us) brought By holy Joseph hither, that same spear Wherewith the Roman pierced the side of Christ. He much amazed us; after, when we sought The tribute, answer'd, ' I have quite foregone All matters of this world : Garlon, mine heir. Of him demand it,' which this Gar- lon gave With much ado, railing at thine and thee. But when we left, in those deep woods we found A knight of thine spear-stricken from behind. Dead, whom we buried ; more than one of us Cried out on Garlon, but a wood- man there Reported of some demon in the woods Was once a man, who driven by evil tongues From all his fellows, lived alone, and came To learn black magic, and to hate his kind With such a hate, that when he died, his soul Became a Fiend, which, as the man in life Was wounded by blind tongues he saw not whence, Strikes from behind. This wood- man show'd the cave From which he sallies, and wherein he dwelt. We saw the hoof-print of a horse, no more." Then Arthur, " Let who goes be- fore me, see He do not fall behind me: foully slain And villainously! who will hunt for me This demon of the woods?" Said Balan, "I!" So claiin'd the quest and rode away, but first. Embracing Balin, " Good, my brother, hear! Let not thy moods prevail, when I am gone Who used to lay them! hold them outer fiends, Who leap at thee to tear thee; shake them aside. Dreams ruling when wit sleeps! yea, but to dream That any of these would wrong thee, wrongs th3'self. Witness their flowery welcome. Bound are they BALIN AND BALAN 259 To speak no evil. Truly safe for Hath hardly scaled with help a hun- fears, dred feet My fears for thee, so rich a fellow- Up from the base: so Balin marvel- ship ing oft Would make me wholly blest: thou How far beyond him Lancelot one of them, seem'd to move, Be one indeed : consider them, and Groan'd, and at times would mutter, all " These be gifts. Their bearing in their common bond Born with the blood, not learnable, of love, divine. No more of hatred than in Heaven Beyond my reach. Well had I itself, foughten — well — No more of jealousy than in Para- In those fierce w ars, struck hard — dise." and had I crown'd With my slain self the heaps of So Balan warn'd, and went; Balin whom I slew — remain'd: So — better! — But this worship of Who — for but three brief moons the Queen, had glanced away That honor, too, wherein she holds From being knighted till he smote him — this, the thrall. This was the sunshine that hath And faded from the presence into given the man years A growth, a name that branches o'er Of exile — now would strictlier set the rest, himself And strength against all odds, and To learn what Arthur meant by what the King courtesy. So prizes — overprizes — gentleness. Manhood, and knighthood ; where- Her likewise would I worship an I fore hover'd round might. Lancelot, but when he mark'd his I never can be close with her, as high sweet smile he In passing, and a transitory word That brought her hither. Shall I Make knight or churl or child or pray the King damsel seem To let me bear some token of his From being smiled at happier in Queen themselves — Whereon to gaze, remembering her Sigh'd, as a boy lame-born beneath a — forget height, My heats and violences? live afresh? That glooms his valley, sighs to see What, if the Queen disdain'd to the peak grant it! nay, Sun-flush'd, or touch at night the Being so stately-gentle, would she northern star; make For one from out his village lately My darkness blackness? and with climb'd how sweet grace And brought report of azure lands She greeted my return! Bold will and fair, I be — Far seen to left and right; and he Some goodly cognizance of Guine- himself vere. 26o IDYLLS OF THE KING In lieu of this rough beast upon my shield, Langued gules, and tooth'd with grinning savagery." And Arthur, when Sir Balin sought him, said : ''What wilt thou bear?" Balin was bold, and ask'd To bear her own crown-royal upon shield. Whereat she smiled and turn'd her to the King, Who answer'd, " Thou shalt put the crown to use. The crown is but the shadow of the King, And this a shadow's shadow, let him have it, So this will help him of his vio- lences ! " "No shadow," said Sir Balin, "O my Queen, But light to me! no shadow, O my King But golden earnest of a gentler life!" So Balin bare the crown, and all the knights Approved him, and the Queen, and all the world Made music, and he felt his being move In music with his Order, and the King. The nightingale, full-toned in mid- dle May, Hath ever and anon a note so thin It seems another voice in other groves ; Thus, after some quick burst of sud- den wrath, The music in him seem'd to change, and grow Faint and far-ofF. And once he saw the thrall His passion half had gauntleted to death, That causer of his banishment and shame. Smile at him, as he deem'd, presump- tuously: His arm half rose to strike again, but fell: The memory of that cognizance on shield Weighted it down, but in himself he moan'd : " Too high this mount of Camelot for me: These high-set courtesies are not for me. Shall I not rather prove the worse for these? Fierier and stormier from restrain- ing, break Into some madness ev'n before the Queen? " Thus, as a hearth lit in a moun- tain home, And glancing on the window, when the gloom Of twilight deepens round it, seems a flame That rages in the woodland far be- low, So when his moods were darken'd, court and King And all the kindly warmth of Arthur's hall Shadow'd an angrj' distance: yet he strove To learn the graces of their Table, fought Hard with himself, and seem'd at length in peace. Then chanced, one morning, that Sir Balin sat Close-bower'd in that garden nigh the hall. BALIN AND BALAN 261 A walk of roses ran from door to For see, how perfect-pure! As door; light a flush A walk of lilies crost it to the As hardly tints the blossom of the bower : quince And down that range of roses the Would mar their charm of stainless great Queen maidenhood." Came with slow steps, the morning on her face; And all in shadow from the counter door Sir Lancelot as to meet her, then at once, As if he saw not, glanced aside, and paced " Sweeter to me," she said, " this garden rose Deep-hued and many-folded ! sweeter still The wild-wood hyacinth and the bloom of May. paueu ,, r 1-1- J Prince, we have ridd'n before among The long white walk of lilies toward ^j^^ flowers the bower. Follow'd the Queen ; Sir Balln her " Prince, Art thou so little loyal to thy Queen, , , In those fair days — not all as cool heard ^1 as these, Tho' season-earlier. Art thou sad ? or sick? As pass without good morrow to thy q^^ ^^^^^ ^. ^.jj^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^.^ ^ ^^''''"q- t 1 . vk U- own leech - To whom Sir Lancelot with his eyes ^.^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ ,^ ^^ on earth, me^" " Fain would I still be loyal to the Queen." *' Yea so," she said, " but so to pass me by — So loyal scarce is loyal to thyself. Whom all men rate the king of cour- tesy. Let be: ye stand, fair lord, as in a dream." Then Lancelot lifted his large eyes; they dwelt Deep-tranced on hers, and could not fall : her hue Changed at his gaze: so turning side by side They past, and Balin started from his bower. Then Lancelot with his hand among the flowers "Queen? subject? but I see not what I see. "Yea — for a dream. Last night Damsel and lover? hear not what I methought I saw hear. That maiden Saint who stands with My father hath begotten me in his lily in hand wrath. In yonder shrine. All round her I suffer from the things before me, prest the dark, know. And all the light upon her silver Learn nothing; am not worthy to be face knight; Flow'd from the spiritual lily that A churl, a clown!" and in him she held. gloom on gloom Lo! these her emblems drew mine Deepen'd: he sharply caught his eyes — away : lance and shield, 262 IDYLLS OF THE KING Nor stay'd to crave permission of the Now with droopt brow down the king, long glades he rode; But, mad for strange adventure, So mark'd not on his right a cavern- dash'd away. chasm Yawn over darkness, where, nor far within, He took the selfsame track as The whole day died, but dying, Balan, saw gleam'd on rocks The fountain where they sat to- Roof-pendent, sharp; and others gether, sigh'd, from the floor, " Was I not better there with him? " Tusklike, arising, made that mouth and rode of night The skyless woods, but under open Whereout the Demon issued up blue from Hell. Came on the hoarhead woodman at He mark'd not this, but blind and a bough deaf to all Wearily hewing. " Churl, thine Save that chain'd rage, which ever ax!" he cried, yelpt within. Descended, and disjointed it at a Past eastward from the falling sun. blow: At once To whom the woodman utter'd won- He felt the hollow-beaten mosses deringly, thud " Lord, thou couldst lay the Devil of And tremble, and then the shadow these woods of a spear. If arm of flesh could lay him." Shot from behind him, ran along the Balin cried, ground. " Him, or the viler devil who plays Sideways he started from the path, his part, and saw. To lay that devil would lay the With pointed lance as if to pierce, a Devil in me." shape, " Nay," said the churl, " our devil A light of armor by him flash, and is a truth, pass I saw the flash of him but yester- And vanish in the woods; and fol- even. low'd this, And some do say that our Sir Gar- But all so blind in rage that Un- ion, too awares Hath learn'd black magic, and to He burst his lance against a forest ride unseen. bough. Look to the cave." But Balin an- Dishorsed himself, and rose again, swer'd him, and fled *' Old fabler, these be fancies of the Far, till the castle of a King, the churl, hall Look to thy woodcraft," and so leav- Of Pellam, lichen-bearded, grayly ing him, draped Now with slack rein and careless of With streaming grass, appear'd, himself, low-built but strong; Now with dug spur and raving at The ruinous donjon as a knoll of himself, moss. BALIN AND BALAN 263 The battlement overtopt with ivy- So simple! hast thou eyes, or if, are tods, these A home of bats, in every tower an So far besotted that they fail to see owl. Then spake the men of Pellam crying, " Lord, Why wear ye this cro\vn-ro3^al upon shield? " Said Balin, " For the fairest and the best Of ladies living gave me this to bear." So stall'd his horse, and strode across the court. But found the greetings both of knight and King Faint in the low dark hall of ban- quet: leaves Laid their green faces flat against the panes. Sprays grated, and the canker'd boughs without "Whined in the wood ; for all was hush'd within, Till when at feast Sir Garlon like- wise ask'd, "Why wear ye that crown-royal?" Balin said, *' The Queen we worship, Lancelot, I, and all, As fairest, best and purest, granted me To bear it!" Such a sound — for Arthur's knights Were hated strangers in the hall — as makes The white swan-mother, sitting, when she hears A strange knee rustle thro' her secret reeds. Made Garlon, hissing; then he sourly smiled. "Fairest I grant her: I have seen; but best, Best, purest? tJiou from Arthur's hall, and yet This fair wife-worship cloaks a secret shame ? Truly, ye men of Arthur be but babes." A goblet on the board by Balin, boss'd With holy Joseph's legend, on his right Stood, all of massiest bronze: one side had sea And ship and sail and angels blow- ing on it: And one was rough with wattling, and the walls Of that low church he built at Glas- tonbury. This Balin graspt, but while in act to hurl. Thro' memory of that token on the shield Relax'd his hold : " I will be gen- tle," he thought " And passing gentle " caught his hand away. Then fiercely to Sir Garlon, " Eyes have I That saw to-day the shadow of a spear. Shot from behind me, run along the ground ; Eyes, too, that long have watch'd how Lancelot draws From homage to the best and purest, might. Name, manhood, and a grace, but scantly thine. Who, sitting in thine own hall, canst endure To mouth so huge a foulness — to thy guest, Me, me of Arthur's Table. Felon talk! Let be! no more! " 264 IDYLLS OF THE KING But not the less by night The scorn of Garlon, poisoning all his rest, Stung him in dreams. At length, and dim thro' leaves Blinkt the white morn, sprays grated, and old boughs Whined in the wood. He rose, de- scended, met The scorner in the castle court, and fain, For hate and loathing, would have past him by; But when Sir Garlon utter'd mock- ing-wise ; " What, wear ye still that same crown-scandalous? " His countenance blacken'd, and his forehead veins Bloated, and branch'd ; and tearing out of sheath The brand, Sir Balin with a fiery, "Ha! So thou be shadow, here I make thee ghost," Hard upon helm smote him, and the blade flew Splintering in six, and clinkt upon the stones. Then Garlon, reeling slow-ly back- ward, fell, And Balin by the banneret of his helm Dragg'd him, and struck, but from the castle a cry Sounded across the court, and — men-at-arms, A score with pointed lances, making at him — He dash'd the pummel at the fore- most face. Beneath a low door dipt, and made his feet Wings thro' a glimmering gallery, till he mark'd The portal of King Pellam's chapel wide And inward to the wall; he stept behind ; Thence in a moment heard them pass like wolves Howling; but while he stared about the shrine. In which he scarce could spy the Christ for Saints, Beheld before a golden altar lie The longest lance his eyes had ever seen. Point-painted red ; and seizing there- upon Push'd thro' an open casement down, lean'd on it, Leapt in a semicircle, and lit on earth ; Then hand at ear, and barkening from what side The blindfold rummage buried in the walls Might echo, ran the counter path, and found His charger, mounted on him and away. An arrow w'hizz'd to the right, one to the left. One overhead ; and Pellam's feeble cry, " Stay, stay him ! he defileth heavenly things With earthly uses " — made him quickly dive Beneath the boughs, and race thro' many a mile Of dense and open, till his goodly horse. Arising wearily at a fallen oak, Stumbled headlong, and cast him face to ground. Half-wroth he had not ended, but all glad, Knightlike, to find his charger 5'et unlamed, Sir Balin drew the shield from off his neck, BALIN AND BALAN 265 Stared at the priceless cognizance, The fire of Heaven is Lord of all and thought, things good, " I have shamed thee so that now And starve not thou this fire within thou shamest me, thy blood. Thee will I bear no more," high on a But follow Vivien thro' the fiery branch flood ! Hung it, and turn'd aside into the The fire of Heaven is not the flame woods, of Hell ! " And there in gloom cast himself all along. Then turning to her Squire, " This Moaning, " My violences, my vio- fire of Heaven, lences! " This old sun-worship, boy, will rise again. But now the wholesome music of And beat the cross to earth, and the wood break the King Was dumb'd by one from out the And all his Table." hall of Mark, A damsel-errant, warbling, as she Then they reach'd a glade, rode Where under one long lane of cloud- The woodland alleys, Vivien, with less air her Squire. Before another wood, the royal crown " The fire of Heaven has kill'd the Sparkled, and swaying upon a rest- barren cold, less elm And kindled all the plain and all the Drew the vague glance of Vivien, wold. and her Squire; The new leaf ever pushes off the old. Amazed were these ; " Lo, there," The fire of Heaven is not the flame she cried — " a crown — of Hell. Borne by some high lord-prince of Arthur's hall. Old priest, who mumble worship And there a horse! the rider? where in your quire — is he? Old monk and nun, ye scorn the See, yonder lies one dead within the world's desire, wood. Yet in your frosty cells ye feel the Not dead ; he stirs ! — but sleeping. fire! I will speak. The fire of Heaven is not the flame Hail, royal knight, we break on thy of Hell. sweet rest. Not, doubtless, all unearn'd by noble The fire of Heaven is on the dusty deeds. ways. But bounden art thou, if from The wayside blossoms open to the Arthur's hall, blaze. To help the weak. Behold, I fly The whole wood-world is one full from shame, peal of praise. A lustful King, who sought to win The fire of Heaven is not the flame my love of Hell. Thro' evil ways: the knight, with whom I rode. 266 IDYLLS OF THE KING Hath suffer'd misadventure, and my I knew thee wrong'd. I brake upon squire thy rest, Hath in him small defense; but thou, And now full loth am I to break Sir Prince, thy dream. Wilt surely guide me to the warrior But thou art man, and canst abide a King, truth, Arthur the blameless, pure as any Tho' bitter. Hither, boy — and maid, mark me well. To get me shelter for my maiden- Dost thou remember at Caerleon hood. once — I charge thee by that crown upon A year ago — nay, then I love thee thy shield, not — And by the great Queen's name, Aye, thou rememberest well — one arise and hence." summer dawn — By the great tower — Caerleon upon And Balin rose, " Thither no Usk — more ! nor Prince Nay, truly we were hidden : this Nor knight am I, but one that hath fair lord, defamed The flower of all their vestal knight- The cognizance she gave me: here hood, knelt I dwell In amorous homage — knelt — what Savage among the savage woods, else ? — O aye, here die — Knelt, and drew down from out his Die: let the wolves' black maws en- night-black hair sepulcher And mumbled that white hand Their brother beast, whose anger whose ring'd caress was his lord. Had wander'd from her own King's O me, that such a name as Guine- golden head, vere's. And lost itself in darkness, till she Which our high Lancelot hath so cried — lifted up, I thought the great tower would And been thereby uplifted, should crash down on both — thro' me, ' Rise, my sweet King, and kiss me My violence, and my villainy, come on the lips, to shame." Thou art my King.' This lad, whose lightest word Thereat she suddenly laugh'd and Is mere white truth in simple naked- shrill, anon ness, Sigh'd all as suddenly. Said Balin Saw them embrace: he reddens, can- to her, not speak, "Is this thy courtesy — to mock me, So bashful, he! but all the maiden ha? Saints, Hence, for I will not with thee." The deathless mother-maidenhood of Again she sigh'd, Heaven ** Pardon, sweet lord ! we maidens Cry out upon her. Up then, ride often laugh with me! When sick at heart, when rather we Talk not of shame! thou canst not, should weep. an thou would'st. BALIN AND BALAN 267 Do these more shame than these have (His quest was unaccomplish'd) done themselves." heard and thought, " The scream of that Wood-devil I She lied with ease; but horror- came to quell!" stricken he, Then nearing, "Lo! he hath slain Remembering that dark bower at some brother-knight, Camelot, And tramples on the goodly shield to Breathed in a dismal whisper, " It is show truth." His loathing of our Order and the Queen. Sunnily she smiled, " And even in My quest, meseems, is here. Or this lone wood, devil or man Sweet lord, ye do right well to Guard thou thine head." Sir Balin whisper this. spake not word. Fools prate, and perish traitors. But snatch'd a sudden buckler from Woods have tongues, the Squire, As walls have ears: but thou shalt go And vaulted on his horse, and so they with me, crash'd And we will speak at first exceeding In onset, and King Pellam's holy low. spear. Meet is it the good King be not de- Reputed to be red with sinless blood, ceived. Redden'd at once with sinful, for the See now, I set thee high on vantage point ground, Across the maiden shield of Balan From whence to watch the time, and prick'd eagle-like The hauberk to the flesh ; and Balin's Stoop at thy will on Lancelot and horse the Queen." Was wearied to the death, and, when they clash'd. She ceased ; his evil spirit upon Rolling back upon Balin, crush'd the him leapt, man He ground his teeth together, sprang Inward, and either fell, and swoon'd with a yell, away. Tore from the branch, and cast on earth, the shield, Then to her Squire mutter'd the Drove his mail'd heel athwart the damsel, "Fools! royal crown. This fellow hath wrought some foul- Stampt all Into defacement, hurl'd it ness with his Queen : from him Else never had he borne her crown, Among the forest weeds, and cursed nor raved the tale. And thus foam'd over at a rival The told-of, and the teller. name : But thou, Sir Chick, that scarce hast That weird yell, broken shell, Unearthlier than all shriek of bird Art yet half-yolk, not even come to or beast, down — Thrill'd thro' the woods; and Balan Who never sawest Caerleon upon lurking there Usk — 268 IDYLLS OF THE KING And yet hast often pleaded for my love — See what I see, be thou where I have been, Or else Sir Chick — dismount and loose their casques I fain would know what manner of men they be." And when the Squire had loosed them, "Goodly! — look! They might have cropt the myriad flower of May, And butt each other here, like brain- less bulls, Dead for one heifer ! " Then the gentle Squire, " I hold them happy, so they died for love : And, Vivien, tho' ye beat me like your dog, I, too, could die, as now I live, for thee." " Live on, Sir Boy," she cried. " I better prize The living dog than the dead lion: away I cannot brook to gaze upon the dead." Then leapt her palfrey o'er the fallen oak. And bounding forward, " Leave them to the wolves." But when their foreheads felt the cooling air, Balin first woke, and seeing that true face. Familiar up from cradle-time, so wan, Crawl'd slowly with low moans to where he lay, And on his dying brother cast him- self Dying; and he lifted faint eyes; he felt One near him; all at once they found the world. Staring wild-wide; then with a child- like wail. And drawing down the dim disas- trous brow That o'er him hung, he kiss'd it> moan'd and spake: " O Balin, Balin, I that fain had died To save thy life, have brought thee to thy death. Why had ye not the shield I knew? and why Trampled ye thus on that which bare the Crown ? " Then Balin told him brokenly, and in gasps, All that had chanced, and Balan moan'd again. " Brother, I dwelt a day in Pel- lam's hall : This Garlon mock'd me, but I heeded not. And one said, ' Eat in peace ! a liar is he. And hates thee for the tribute! ' this good knight Told me, that twice a wanton dam- sel came, And sought for Garlon at the castle- gates. Whom Pellam drove away with holy heat. I well believe this damsel, and the one Who stood beside thee even now, the same. ' She dwells among the woods,' he said, ' and meets And dallies with him in the Mouth of Hell.' Foul are their lives; foul are their lips; they lied. MERLIN AND VIVIEN 269 Pure as our own true Mother is our The slights of Arthur and his Table, Queen." Mark The Cornish King, had heard a " O brother," answer'd Balin, wandering voice, "woe is me! A minstrel of Caerleon by strong My madness all thy life has been thy storm doom. Blown into shelter at Tintagil, say Thy curse, and darken'd all thy day; That out of naked knightlike purity and now The night has come. I scarce can see thee now. Good-night! for we shall never bid again Good-morrow — Dark my doom was here, and dark It will be there. I see thee now no more. I would not mine again should darken thine. Good-night, true brother." Sir Lancelot worshipt no unmarried girl But the great Queen herself, fought in her name, Sware by her — vows like theirs, that high in heaven Love most, but neither marry, nor are given In marriage, angels of our Lord's re- port. He ceased, and then — for Vivien sweetly said Balan answer'd low (She sat beside the banquet nearest "Good-night, true brother here! Mark), good-morrow there! "And is the fair example follow'd, We two were born together, and we Sir, die In Arthur's household?" — answer'd Together by one doom : " and while innocently : he spoke Closed his death-drowsing eyes, and " Aye, by some few — aye, truly — slept the sleep youths that hold With Balin, either lock'd in cither's It more beseems the perfect virgin arms. knight To worship woman as true wife be- yond MERLIN AND VIVIEN All hopes of gaining, than as maiden girl. A STORM was coming, but the winds They place their pride in Lancelot were still, and the Queen. And in the wild woods of Broce- So passionate for an utter purity liande. Beyond the limit of their bond, are Before an oak, so hollow, huge and these, old It look'd a tower of ivied mason- work. At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay. For he that always bare in bitter grudge For Arthur bound them not to single- ness. Brave hearts and clean! and yet — God guide them — }'oung." Then Mark was half in heart to hurl his cup 270 IDYLLS OF THE KING Straight at the speaker, but forebore: Thy blessing, stainless King! I he rose bring thee back. To leave the hall, and, Vivien follow- When I have ferreted out their bur- ing him, rowings, Turn'd to her : " Here are snakes The hearts of all this Order in mine within the grass ; hand — And you methinks, O Vivien, save ye Aye — so that fate and craft and folly fear close, The monkish manhood, and the mask Perchance, one curl of Arthur's of pure golden beard. Worn by this court, can stir them till To me this narrow grizzled fork of they sting." thine Is cleaner-fashion'd — Well, I loved thee first. And Vivien answer'd, smiling That warps the wit." scornfully, " Why fear ? because that foster'd at Loud laugh'd the graceless Mark. thy court But Vivien, into Camelot stealing, I savor of thy — virtues? fear them? lodged no. Low in the city, and on a festal day As Love, if Love be perfect, casts out When Guinevere was crossing the fear, great hall So Hate, if Hate be perfect, casts out Cast herself down, knelt to the Queen, fear. and wail'd. My father died in battle against the King, " Why kneel ye there? WTiat evil My mother on his corpse in open have ye wrought? field; Rise!" and the damsel bidden rise She bore me there, for born from arose death w^as I And stood with folded hands and Among the dead and sown upon the downward eyes wind — Of glancing corner, and all meekly And then on thee! and shown the said, truth betimes, " None wrought, but suffer'd much, That old true filth, and bottom of an orphan maid ! the well, My father died in battle for thy Where Truth is hidden. Gracious King, lessons thine My mother on his corpse — in open And maxims of the mud ! ' This field, Arthur pure! The sad sea-sounding wastes of Lyon- Great Nature thro' the flesh herself nesse — hath made Poor wretch — no friend ! — and now Gives him the lie ! There is no be- by Mark the King ing pure. For that small charm of feature My cherub ; saith not Holy Writ the mine, pursued — same?' — If any such be mine — I fly to thee. If I were Arthur, I would have thy Save, save me thou — Woman of blood. women — thine MERLIN AND VIVIEN 271 The wreath of beauty, thine the " Is that the Lancelot ? goodly — crown of power, aye, but gaunt: Be thine the balm of pity, O Heaven's Courteous — amends for gauntness — own white takes her hand — Earth-angel, stainless bride of stain- That glance of theirs, but for the less King — street, had been Help, for he follows ! take me to thy- A clinging kiss — how hand lingers self! in hand! O yield me shelter for mine innocency Let go at last ! — they ride away — Among thy maidens!" to hawk For waterfowl. Royaller game is mine. Here her slow sweet eyes For such a supersensual sensual bond Fear-tremulous, but humbly hopeful. As that gray cricket chirpt of at our rose hearth — Fixt on her hearer's, while the Queen Touch flax with flame — a glance who stood will serve — the liars ! All glittering like May sunshine on Ah, little rat that borest in the dyke May leaves Thy hole by night to let the boundless In green and gold, and plumed with deep green replied, " Peace, child ! of overpraise and over- blame We choose the last. Our noble Arthur, him Ye scarce can overpraise, will hear and know. Nay — we believe all evil of thy Mark — Well, we shall test thee farther; but this hour We ride a-hawking with Sir Lance- lot. He hath given us a fair falcon which he train'd; We go to prove it. Bide ye here the while." Down upon far-off cities while they dance — Or dream — of thee they dream'd not — nor of me These — aye, but each of either : ride, and dream The mortal dream that never yet was mine — Ride, ride and dream until ye wake — to me! Then, narrow court and lubber King, farewell ! For Lancelot will be gracious to the rat. And our wise Queen, if knowing that I know. Will hate, loathe, fear — but honor me the more." She past; and Vivien murmur'd after "Go! I bide the while." Then thro' the portal-arch Peering askance, and muttering bro- kenwise. As one that labors with an evil dream, Yet while they rode together down the plain. Their talk was all of training, terms of art. Diet and seeling, jesses, leash and lure. Beheld the Queen and Lancelot get to " She is too noble," he said, " to check horse. at pies, 272 IDYLLS OF THE KING Nor will she rake: there Is no base- She hated all the knights, and ness in her." heard in thought Here when the Queen demanded as Their lavish comment when her name by chance, was named. *' Know ye the stranger woman ? " For once, when Arthur walking all " Let her be," alone. Said Lancelot and unhooded casting Vext at a rumor issued from her- off self The goodly falcon free; she tower'd ; Of some corruption crept among his her bells, knights, Tone under tone, shrill'd, and they Had met her, Vivien, being greeted lifted up fair. Their eager faces, wondering at the Would fain have wrought upon his strength, cloudy mood Boldness and royal knighthood of With reverent eyes mock-loyal, the bird shaken voice, Who pounced her quarry and slew it. And flutter'd adoration, and at last Many a time With dark sweet hints of some who As once — of old — among the prized him more flowers — they rode. Than who should prize him most ; at w^hich the King But Vivien half-forgotten of the Had gazed upon her blankly and Queen gone by: Among her damsels broidering sat. But one had watch'd, and had not heard, watch'd held his peace: And whisper'd: thro' the peaceful It made the laughter of an after- court she crept noon And whisper'd : then as Arthur in the That Vivien should attempt the highest blameless King. Leaven'd the world, so Vivien in the And after that, she set herself to gain lowest, Him, the most famous man of all Arriving at a time of golden rest, those times. And sowing one ill hint from ear to Merlin, who knew the range of all ear, their arts. While all the heathen lay at Arthur's Had built the King his havens, ships, feet, j J , . , And the cairn d mountam was a arm round his neck , , ,, ,-n- \ J ^1 I u 1 J 1 4. shadow, sunn d lighten, and then drew back, and let ^, ,, ' . , , 1 he world to peace again : here was her eyes i Speak for her, glowing on him, like ., ux* ^u j 'ju- ^ 1 -i y And so by force they dragg d him to a bride s i rr- On her new lord, her own, the first a j 4.u i, .. w ..u i^- , ' And then he taught the King to of men. u ..u r\ charm the vjueen In such-wise, that no man could see He answer'd laughing, " Nay, not her more, like to me. Nor saw she save the King, who At last they found — his foragers for wrought the charm, charms — Coming and going, and she lay as A little glassy-headed hairless man, dead. Who lived alone in a great wild on And lost all use of life: but when the grass ; King Read but one book, and ever reading Made proffer of the league of grew golden mines. So grated down and filed away with The province with a hundred miles thought, of coast. So lean his eyes were monstrous; The palace and the princess, that old while the skin man Clung but to crate and basket, ribs Went back to his old wild, and lived and spine. on grass, And since he kept his mind on one And vanished, and his book came sole aim, down to me." Nor ever touch'd fierce wine, nor tasted flesh, Nor own'd a sensual wish, to him the And Vivien answer'd smiling wall saucily : That sunders ghosts and shadow- "Ye have the book: the charm is casting men written in it: Became a crystal, and he saw them Good: take my counsel: let me thro' it, know it at once: And heard their voices talk behind For keep it like a puzzle chest in the wall, chest. And learnt their elemental secrets, With each chest lock'd and padlock'd powers thirty-fold, And forces; often o'er the sun's And whelm all this beneath as vast bright eye a mound Drew the vast eyelid of an inky As after a furious battle turfs the cloud, slain MERLIN AND VIVIEN 283 On some wild down above the windy deep, I yet should strike upon a sudden means To dig, pick, open, find and read the charm : Then, if I tried it, who should blame me then? " And smiling as a master smiles at one That is not of his school, nor any school But that where blind and naked Ignorance Delivers brawling judgments, un- ashamed. On all things all day long, he an- swer'd her: " Thou read the book, my pretty Vivien! O aye, it is but twenty pages long. But every page having an ample marge, And every marge enclosing in the midst A square of text that looks a little blot. The text no larger than the limbs of fleas; And every square of text an awful charm, Writ in a language that has long gone by. So long, that mountains have arisen since With cities on their flanks — thou read the book ! And every margin scribbled, crost, and cramm'd With comment, densest condensa- tion, hard To mind and eye; but the long sleep- less nights Of my long life have made it easy to me. And none can read the text, not even I ; And none can read the comment but myself ; And in the comment did I find the charm. O, the results are simple; a mere child Might use it to the harm of any- one. And never could undo it: ask no more: For tho' you should not prove it upon me. But keep that oath ye sware, ye might, perchance, Assay it on someone of the Table Round, And all because ye dream they babble of you." And Vivien, frowning in true anger, said : " What dare the full-fed liars say of me? They ride abroad redressing human wrongs They sit with knife in meat and wine in horn! They bound to holy vows of chastity ! Were I not woman, I could tell a tale. But you are man, you well can understand The shame that cannot be explain'd for shame. Not one of all the drove should touch me: swine!" Then answer'd Merlin careless of her words: " You breathe but accusation vast and vague. Spleen-born, I think, and proofless. If ye know, Set up the charge ye know, to stand or fall!" 284 IDYLLS OF THE KING And Vivien answer'd frowning wrathfully : " O aye, what say ye to Sir Valence, him Whose kinsman left him watcher o'er his wife And two fair babes, and went to dis- tant lands; Was one year gone, and on return- ing found Not two but three? there lay the reckling, one But one hour old! What said the happy sire? A seven-months' babe had been a truer gift. Those twelve sweet moons confused his fatherhood." Then answer'd Merlin, " Nay, I know the tale. Sir Valence wedded with an outland dame : Some cause had kept him sunder'd from his wife. One child they had : it lived with her: she died: His kinsman traveling on his own affair Was charged by Valence to bring home the child. He brought, not found it therefore: take the truth." " O aye," said Vivien, " overtrue a tale. What say ye then to sweet Sir Sagra- more, That ardent man? 'To pluck the flower in season,' So says the song, ' I trow it is no treason.' O Master, shall we call him over- quick To crop his own sweet rose before the hour? " And Merlin answer'd, " Over- quick art thou To catch a loathly plume fall'n from the wing Of that foul bird of rapine whose whole prey Is man's good name: he never wrong'd his bride. I know the tale. An angry gust of wind Puff'd out his torch among the myriad-room 'd And many-corridor'd complexities Of Arthur's palace: then he found a door, And darkling felt the sculptured ornament That wreathen round it made it seem his own ; And wearied out made for the couch and slept, A stainless man beside a stainless maid ; And either slept, nor knew of other there ; Till the high dawn piercing the royal rose In Arthur's casement glimmer'd chastely down, Blushing upon them blushing, and at once He rose without a word and parted from her: But when the thing was blazed about the court, The brute world howling forced them into bonds, And as it chanced they are happy, being pure." " O aye," said Vivien, " that were likely, too. What say ye then to fair Sir Perci- vale And of the horrid foulness that he wrought, The saintly youth, the spotless lamb of Christ, MERLIN AND VIVIEN 285 Or some black wether of St. Satan's Sir Lancelot went ambassador, at fold. first, What, in the precincts of the chapel- To fetch her, and she watch'd him yard, from her walls. Among the knightly brasses of the A rumor runs, she took him for the graves, King, And by the cold Hie Jacets of the So fixt her fancy on him: let them dead!" And Merlin answer'd careless of her charge, " A sober man is Percivale and pure ; But once in life was fluster'd with new wine. Then paced for coolness in the -,TTi i'c^' uuj " Man! is he man at all, who knows Where one of batan s shepherdesses j • 1 d ■^ flnn win Irs r be. But have ye no one word of loyal praise For Arthur, blameless King and stainless man? " She answer'd with a low and chuckling laugh: and winks: Sees what his fair bride is and does, and winks? By which the good King means to- ■c II u- r I I, ^ •£ -L blind himself, ror, look upon his face! — but if he a j ui- j u- ir 1 n 1 -^ 1 t . ,j And blmds himself and all the Table caught And meant to stamp him with her master's mark ; And that he sinned is not believable; sinn'd, Round The sm that practise burns into the t- n u r i 1 1 t , , J i o all the foulness that they work blood, ■' And not the one dark hour which brings remorse, Myself Could call him (were it not for womanhood) Will brand us, after, of whose fold ^, , , . 1 , 1 he pretty, popular name such man Or else were he, the holy king, whose hymns hood earns, Could call him the main cause of all A 1 ^ J • ^u • ^ their crime : Are chanted in the minster, worse ,, , > 1 t^- ^i^^^ ^1] Yea, were he not crown d King, coward, and fool." Then Merlin to his own heart, loathing, said : "O true and tender! O my liege and King! O selfless man and stainless gentle- man, Who wouldst against thine own eye- witness fain than all. But is your spleen froth'd out, or have ye more? " And Vivien answer'd frowning yet in wrath: " O aye; what say ye to Sir Lancelot, friend Ti^aitor or true? that commerce with the Queen, I ask you, is it clamor'd by the child, Or whisper'd in the corner? do ye Have all men true and leal, all know it?" women pure; How, in the mouths of base interpre- To which he answer'd sadly, ters, " Yea, I know it. From over-fineness not intelligible 286 IDYLLS OF THE KING To things with every sense as false Being so bitter: for fine plots may and foul fail, As the poach'd filth that floods the Tho' harlots paint their talk as well middle street, as face Is thy white blamelessness accounted With colors of the heart that are not blame! " theirs. I will not let her know; nine tithes But Vivien, deeming Merlin over- ^ a ^^ j u t u-^ ^u , ' ^ t ace-flatterer and backbiter are the borne Tj ■ J J 1 t same. Hy mstance, recommenced, and let . , , ^ i ^i .. ■^ , ' And they, sweet soul, that most im- her tongue ^-^ T> Ti r ..u 11.- pute a crime Rage like a nre among the noblest . ^ .. .. v j • * *k ^ ^ Are pronest to it, and impute them- names, selves, Polluting, and imputing her whole ,,7. ■ [1 ^ t 1 ,,^' ^ ^ Wanting the mental range; or low self. desire Defaming and defacing, till she left ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^ Not even Lancelot brave, nor Gala- ,, . 1 1 1 aii , naa ciean. y^^^ ^j^^^ would pare the mountain to the plain, Her words had issue other than To leave an equal baseness ; and in she will'd. this He dragg'd his eyebrow bushes Are harlots like the crowd, that if down, and made they find A snowy penthouse for his hollow Some stain or blemish in a name of eyes, note, And mutter'd in himself, " Tell her Not grieving that their greatest are the charm! so small. So, if she had it, would she rail on Inflate themselves with some insane me delight. To snare the next, and if she have it And judge all nature from her feet not of clay. So will she rail. What did the wan- Without the will to lift their eyes, ton say? and see '' Not mount as high ; * we scarce can Her godlike head crown'd with spir- sink as low: itual fire, For men at most differ as Heaven And touching other worlds. I am and earth, weary of her." But women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell. He spoke in words part heard, in I know the Table Round, my whispers part, friends of old; Half-suffocated in the hoary fell All brave, and many generous, and And many-winter'd fleece of throat some chaste. and chin. She cloaks the scar of some repulse But Vivien, gathering somewhat of with lies; his mood, I well believe she tempted them and And hearing " harlot " mutter'd fail'd, twice or thrice, MERLIN AND VIVIEN 287 Leapt from her session on his lap, Together with a wailing shriek, and and stood said : Stiff as a viper frozen; loathsome " Stabb'd through the heart's affec- sight, tions to the heart! How from the rosy lips of life and Seethed like the kid in its own moth- love, er's milk! Flash'd the bare-grinning skeleton of Kill'd with a word worse than a life death! of blows! White was her cheek; sharp breaths I thought that he was gentle, being of anger puff'd great: Her fairy nostril out; her hand half- O God, that I had loved a smaller clench'd man! Went faltering sideways downward I should have found in him a greater to her belt, heart. And feeling; had she found a dag- O, I, that flattering my true passion, ger there saw (For in a wink the false love turns The knights, the court, the King, to hate) dark, in your light, She would have stabb'd him ; but she Who loved to make men darker than found it not: they are, His eye was calm, and suddenly she Because of that high pleasure which took I had To bitter weeping like a beaten To seat you sole upon my pedestal child. Of worship — I am answer'd, and A long, long weeping, not consol- henceforth able. The course of life that seem'd so Then her false voice made way, flowery to me broken with sobs: With you for guide and master, only you, " O crueller than was ever told in Becomes the sea-cliff pathway broken tale, short, Or sung in song! O vainly And ending in a ruin — nothing left, lavish'd love! But into some low cave to crawl, and O cruel, there was nothing wild or there, strange. If the wolf spare me, weep my life Or seeming shameful — for what away, shame in love, Kill'd with inutterable unkindli- So love be true, and not as yours ness." is — nothing Poor Vivien had not done to win his trust She paused, she turn'd away, she Who call'd her what he call'd her hung her head, — all her crime, The snake of gold slid from her All — all — the wish to prove him hair, the braid wholly hers." Slipt and uncoil'd itself, she wept afresh, She mused a little, and then clapt And the dark wood grew darker her hands toward the storm 288 IDYLLS OF THE KING In silence, while his anger slowly Betwixt us twain henceforward ever- died more ; Within him, till he let his wisdom Since, if I be what I am grossly go call'd, For ease of heart, and half believed What should be granted which j'our her true: own gross heart Call'd her to shelter in the hollow Would reckon worth the taking? oak, I will go. '' Come from the storm," and hav- In truth, but one thing now — better ing no reply, have died Gazed at the heaving shoulder, and Thrice than have ask'd it once — the face could make me stay — Hand-hidden, as for utmost grief or That proof of trust — so often ask'd shame; in vain! Then thrice essay'd, by tenderest- How justly, after that vile term of touching terms, yours, To sleek her ruffled peace of mind, I find with grief! I might believe in vain. you then, At last she let herself be conquer'd Who knows? once more. Lo! what by him, was once to me And as the cageling newly flown re- Mere matter of the fancy, now hath turns, grown The seeming-injured simple-hearted The vast necessity of heart and life. thing Farewell; think gently of me, for I Came to her old perch back, and set- fear tied there. My fate or folly, passing gayer youth There while she sat, half-falling For one so old, must be to love thee from his knees, still. Half-nestled at his heart, and since But ere I leave thee let me swear he saw once more The slow tear creep from her closed That if I schemed against thy peace eyelid yet, in this, About her, more in kindness than in May yon just heaven, that darkens love, o'er me, send The gentle wizard cast a shielding One flash, that, missing all things arm. else, may make But she dislink'd herself at once and My scheming brain a cinder, if I lie. rose, Her arms upon her breast across, Scarce had she ceased, when out and stood, of heaven a bolt A virtuous gentlewoman deeply (For now the storm was close above wrong'd, them) struck. Upright and flush'd before him: Furrowing a giant oak, and javelin- then she said : ing With darted spikes and splinters of the wood " There must be now no passages The dark earth round. He raised of love his eyes and saw LANCELOT AND ELAINE 289 The tree that shone white-listed Had left the ravaged woodland yet thro' the gloom. once more But Vivien, fearing heaven had To peace; and what should not have heard her oath, been had been, And dazzled by the livid-flickering For Merlin, overtalk'd and over- fork, worn. And deafen'd with the stammering Had yielded, told her all the charm, cracks and claps and slept. That follow'd, flying back and cry- ing out. Then, in one moment, she put " O Merlin, tho' you do not love me, forth the charm save. Of woven paces and of waving Yet save me!" clung to him and hands, hugg'd him close ; And in the hollow oak he lay as dead, And call'd him dear protector in her And lost to life and use and name fright, and fame. Nor yet forgot her practise in her fright. But wrought upon his mood and hugg'd him close. The pale blood of the wizard at her touch Took gayer colors, like an opal warm'd. She blamed herself for telling hear- say tales : She shook from fear, and for her fault she wept Of petulancy; she call'd him lord and liege, Then crying, " I have made his glory mine," And shrieking out, " O fool ! " the harlot leapt Adown the forest, and the thicket closed Behind her, and the forest echo'd " fool." LANCELOT AND ELAINE Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable, Her seer, her bard, her silver star of Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, eve. Her God, her Merlin, the one pas- sionate love Of her whole life ; and ever over- head Bellow'd the tempest, and the rotten branch Snapt in the rushing of the river- rain Above them ; and in change of glare and gloom Her eyes and neck glittering went and came; High in her chamber up a tower to the east Guarded the sacred shield of Lance- lot; Which first she placed where morn- ing's earliest ray Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam ; Then fearing rust or soilure fashion'd for it A case of silk, and braided there- upon All the devices blazon'd on the shield Till now the storm, its burst of pas- In their own tinct, and added, of her sion spent, wit, Moaning and calling out of other A border fantasy of branch and lands, flower, 290 IDYLLS OF THE KING And yellow-throated nestling in the Roving the trackless realms of Lyon- nest, nesse, Nor rested thus content, but day by Had found a glen, gray boulder and day, black tarn. Leaving her household and good A horror lived about the tarn, and father, climb'd clave That eastern tower, and entering Like its own mists to all the moun- barr'd her door, tain side: Stript off the case, and read the For here two brothers, one a king, naked shield, had met Now guess'd a hidden meaning in his And fought together; but their arms, names were lost; Now made a pretty history to her- And each had slain his brother at a self blow ; Of every dint a sword had beaten in And down they fell and made the it, glen abhorr'd : And every scratch a lance had made And there they lay till all their bones upon it, were bleach'd, Conjecturing when and where: this And lichen'd into color with the cut is fresh ; crags : That ten years back; this dealt him And he, that once was king, had on at Caerlyle ; a crown That at Caerleon ; this at Camelot: Of diamonds, one in front, and four And ah, God's mercy, what a stroke aside. was there! And Arthur came, and laboring up And here a thrust that might have the pass, kill'd, but God All in a misty moonshine, unawares Broke the strong lance, and roU'd his Had trodden that crown'd skeleton, enemy down, and the skull And saved him: so she lived in fan- Brake from the nape, and from the tasy. skull the crown Roll'd into light, and turning on its How came the lily maid by that t-i i i-i t • • ^ , good shield ^^ ^^^^ ^ glittermg rivulet to the Of Lancelot, she that knew not ev'n a i i " i i • i i his name^ ^^" shmgly scaur he He left it with her, when he rode to ^ , Pl""^^^' ^"^. ^V"^^'^ , . ^. •1 And set it on his head, and in his For the great diamond in the dia- tt j « t i i-i • J • ^ Heard murmurs, Lo, thou likewise mond jousts, h li- h K " Which Arthur had ordain'd, and by ^' TT J J ^u • J- J Thereafter, when a King, he had Had named them, since a diamond , ' ^' .1 . the gems was the prize. t»i i»j f^ i_ j l >j rluck d from the crown, and show d them to his knights. For Arthur, long before they Saying, " These jewels, whereupon I crown'd him King, chanced LANCELOT AND ELAINE 291 Divinely, are the kingdom's, not the Of Lancelot, and his prowess in the King's — lists, For public use: henceforward let A sight ye love to look on." And there be, the Queen Once every year, a joust for one of Lifted her eyes, and they dwelt these: languidly For so by nine years' proof we needs On Lancelot, where he stood beside must learn the King. Which is our mightiest, and our- He thinking that he read her mean- selves shall grow ing there, In use of arms and manhood, till we " Stay with me, I am sick ; my love is drive more The heathen, who, some say, shall Than many diamonds," yielded ; and rule the land a heart Hereafter, which God hinder." Love-loyal to the least wish of the Thus he spoke: Queen And eight years past, eight jousts (However much he yearn'd to make had been, and still complete Had Lancelot won the diamond of The tale of diamonds for his destined the year, boon) With purpose to present them to the Urged him to speak against the truth, Queen, and say. When all were won ; but meaning " Sir King, mine ancient wound is all at once hardly whole. To snare her royal fancy with a And lets me from the saddle ; " and boon the King Worth half her realm, had never Glanced first at him, then her, and spoken w^ord. went his way. No sooner gone than suddenly she began : Now for the central diamond and the last And largest, Arthur, holding then his "To blame, my lord, Sir Lance- court lot, much to blame ! Hard on the river nigh the place Why go ye not to these fair jousts? w^hich now the knights Is this world's hugest, let proclaim a Are half of them our enemies, and joust the crowd At Camelot, and when the time drew Will murmur, * Lo, the shameless nigh ones, who take Spake (for she had been sick) to Their pastime now the trustful King Guinevere, is gone ! ' " " Are you so sick, my Queen, you Then Lancelot vext at having lied in cannot move vain: To these fair jousts?" "Yea, "Are ye so wise? ye were not once lord," she said, " ye know it." so wise, " Then will ye miss," he answer'd, My Queen, that summer, when ye " the great deeds loved me first. 292 IDYLLS OF THE KING Then of the crowd ye took no more Rapt in this fancy of his Table account Round, Than of the myriad cricket of the And swearing men to vows impossi- mead, ble, When its own voice clings to each To make them like himself: but, blade of grass, friend, to me And every voice is nothing. As to He is all fault who hath no fault at knights, all : Them surely can I silence with all For who loves me must have a touch ease. of earth ; But now my loyal worship is The low sun makes the color: I am allow'd yours. Of all men: many a bard, without Not Arthur's, as ye know, save by offense, the bond. Has link'd our names together in his And therefore hear my words: go to lay, the jousts: Lancelot, the flower of bravery. The tiny-trumpeting gnat can break Guinevere, our dream The pearl of beauty: and our When sweetest; and the vermin knights at feast voices here Have pledged us in this union, while May buzz so loud — we scorn them, the King but they sting." Would listen smiling. How" then? is there more? Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief Has Arthur spoken aught? or would of knights: yourself, " And with what face, after my pre- Now weary of my service and devoir, text made. Henceforth be truer to your fault- Shall I appear, O Queen, at Came- less lord ? " lot, I Before a King who honors his own She broke into a little scornful word, laugh: As if it were his God's? " " Arthur, my lord, Arthur, the fault- less King, " Yea," said the Queen, That passionate perfection, my good " A moral child without the craft to lord — rule. But who can gaze upon the Sun in Else had he not lost me: but listen to heaven ? me. He never spake word of reproach to If I must find you wit: we hear it me, said He never had a glimpse of mine That men go down before your spear untruth, at a touch, He cares not for me: only here But knowing you are Lancelot; your to-day great name. There gleam'd a vague suspicion in This conquers: hide it therefore; go his eyes: unknown: Some meddling rogue has tamper'd Win! by this kiss you will: and our with him — else true King LANCELOT AND ELAINE 293 Will then allow your pretext, O my Elaine, his daughter: mother of the knight, house As all for glory; for to speak him There was not: some light jest true, among them rose Ye know right well, how meek soe'er With laughter dying down as the he seem, great knight No keener hunter after glory Approach'd them: then the Lord of breathes. Astolat : He loves it in his knights more than " Whence comest thou, my guest, and himself: by what name They prove to him his work: win Livest between the lips? for by thy and return." state And presence I might guess thee chief of those, Then got Sir Lancelot suddenly to After the King, who eat in Arthur's horse, halls. Wroth at himself. Not willing to Him have I seen : the rest, his Table be known, Round, He left the barren-beaten thorough- Known as they are, to me they are fare, unknown." Chose the green path that show'd the rarer foot, Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief And there among the solitary downs, of knights: Full often lost in fancy, lost his " Known am I, and of Arthur's hall, way ; and known. Till as he traced a faintly-shadow'd What I by mere mischance have track, brought, my shield. That all in loops and links among But since I go to joust as one un- the dales known Ran to the Castle of Astolat, he saw At Camelot for the diamond, ask me Fired from the west, far on a hill, not, the towers. Hereafter ye shall know me — and Thither he made, and blew the gate- the shield — way horn. I pray you lend me one, if such you Then came an old, dumb, myriad- have, wrinkled man, Blank, or at least with some device Who let him into lodging and dis- not mine." arm'd. And Lancelot marvel'd at the word- Then said the Lord of Astolat, less man; "Here is Torre's: And issuing found the Lord of Asto- Hurt in his first tilt was my son. Sir lat Torre. With two strong sons. Sir Torre and And so, God wot, iiis shield is blank Sir Lavaine, enough. Moving to meet him in the castle His ye can have." Then added court; plain Sir Torre, And close behind them stept the lily " Yea, since I cannot use it, ye may maid have it." 294 IDYLLS OF THE KING Here laugh'd the father, saying, " Fie, Sir Churl, Is that an answer for a noble knight? Allow him! but Lavaine, my younger here. He is so full of lustihood, he will ride. Joust for it, and win, and bring it in an hour. And set it in this damsel's golden hair. To make her thrice as wilful as be- fore." " Nay, father, nay, good father, shame me not Before this noble knight," said young Lavaine, " For nothing. Surely I but play'd on Torre: He seem'd so sullen, vext he could not go: A jest, no more! for, knight, the maiden dreamt That some one put this diamond in her hand, And that it was too slippery to be held. And slipt and fell into some pool or stream, The castle-well, belike ; and then I said That // I went and if I fought and won it (But all was jest and joke among ourselves) Then must she keep it safelier. All was jest. But, father, give me leave, an if he will, To ride to Camelot with this noble knight: Win shall I not, bur do my best to win: Young as I am, yet would I do mv best." " So ye will grace me," answer'd Lancelot, Smiling a moment, " with your fel- lowship O'er these waste downs whereon I lost myself, Then were I glad of you as guide and friend : And you shall win this diamond, — as I hear It is a fair large diamond, — if ye may, And yield it to this maiden, if ye will." " A fair large diamond," added plain Sir Torre, " Such be for queens, and not for simple maids." Then she, who held her eyes upon the ground, Elaine, and heard her name so tost about, Flush'd slightly at the slight dispar- agement Before the stranger knight, who, looking at her, Full courtly, yet not falsely, thus return'd : " If what is fair be but for what is fair, And only queens are to be counted so. Rash were my judgnicnt then, who deem this maid Might w-ear as fair a jewel as is on earth, Not violating the bond of like to like." He spoke and ceased : the lily maid, Elaine, Won bv the mellow voice before she look'd, Lifted her eyes, and read his linea- ments. The great and guilty love he bare the Queen, LANCELOT AND ELAINE 295 In battle with the love he bare his But Lancelot, when they glanced at lord, Guinevere, Had marr'd his face, and mark'd it Suddenly speaking of the wordless ere his time. man. Another sinning on such heights with Heard from the Baron that, ten years one, before. The flower of all the west and all The heathen caught and reft him of the world, his tongue. Had been the sleeker for it: but in "He learnt and warn'd me of their him fierce design His mood was often like a fiend, and Against my house, and him they rose caught and maim'd; And drove him into wastes and soli- But I, my sons, and little daugliter tudes fled For agony, who was yet a living From bonds or death, and dwelt soul. among the woods Marr'd as he was, he seem'd the By the great river in a boatman's hut. goodliest man Dull days were those, till our good That ever among ladies ate in hall, Arthur broke And noblest, when she lifted up her The Pagan yet once more on Badon eyes, hill." However marr'd, of more than twice her years, Seem'd with an ancient swordcut on " O there, great lord, doubtless," the cheek, Lavaine said, rapt And bruised and bronzed, she lifted By all the sweet and sudden passion up her eyes of youth And loved him, with that love which Toward greatness in its elder, " you was her doom. have fought. O tell us — for we live apart — you know Then the great knight, the dar- Of Arthur's glorious wars." And ling of the court, Lancelot spoke Loved of the loveliest, into that rude And answer'd 'him at full, as having hall been Stept with all grace, and not with With Arthur in the fight which all half disdain day long Plid under grace, as in a smaller time. Rang by the white mouth of the vio- But kindly man moving among his lent Glem ; kind: And in the four loud battles by the Whom they with meats and vintage shore of their best Of Duglas; that on Bassa; then the And talk and minstrel melody enter- war tain'd. That thunder'd in and out the gloomy And much they ask'd of court and skirts Table Round, Of Celidon the forest; and again And ever well and readily answer'd By castle Gurnion, where the glori- he: ous King 296 IDYLLS OF THE KING Had on his cuirass worn our Lady's " Save your great self, fair lord ; '* Head, and when he fell Carved of one emerald center'd in a From talk of war to traits of pleas- sun antry — Of silver rays, that lighten'd as he Being mirthful he, but in a stately breathed ; kind — And at Caerleon had he help'd his She still took note that when the liv- lord, ing smile When the strong neighings of the Died from his lips, across him came a wild white Horse cloud Set every gilded parapet shuddering; Of melancholy severe, from which And up in Agned-Cathregonion, too, again. And down the waste sand-shores of Whenever in her hovering to and Trath Treroit, fro Where many a heathen fell ; " and on The lily maid had striven to make the mount him cheer, Of Badon I myself beheld the King There brake a sudden-beaming ten- Charge at the head of all his Table derness Round, Of manners and of nature: and she And all his legions crying Christ and thought him. That all was nature, all, perchance, And break them; and I saw him, for her. after, stand And all night long his face before her High on a heap of slain, from spur to lived, plume As when a painter, poring on a face, Red as the rising sun with heathen Divinely thro' all hindrance finds the blood, man And seeing me, with a great voice he Behind it, and so paints him that his cried, face, ' They are broken, they are broken ! ' The shape and color of a mind and for the King, life. However mild he seems at home, nor Lives for his children, ever at its best cares And fullest; so the face before her For triumph in our mimic wars, the lived, jousts — Dark-splendid, speaking in the silence, For if his own knight cast him down, full he laughs Of noble things, and held her from Saying, his knights are better men her sleep. than he — Till rathe she rose, half-cheated in Yet in this heathen war the fire of the thought God She needs must bid farewell to sweet Fills him: I never saw his like: there Lavaine. lives First as in fear, step after step, she No greater leader." stole Down the long tower-stairs, hesita- While he utter'd this, ting: Low to her own heart said the lily Anon, she heard Sir Lancelot cry in maid, the court, LANCELOT AND ELAINE 297 " This shield, my friend, where is And found it true, and answer'd, it?" and Lavaine "True, my child. Past inward, as she came from out Well, I will wear it : fetch it out to the tower. me: There to his proud horse Lancelot What is it?" and she told him, "A turn'd, and smooth'd red sleeve The glossy shoulder, humming to Broider'd with pearls," and brought himself. it: then he bound Half-envious of the flattering hand, Her token on his helmet, with a smile she drew Saying, '' I never yet have done so Nearer and stood. He look'd, and mucii more amazed For any maiden living," and the blood Than if seven men had set upon him, Sprang to her face and fill'd her with saw delight ; The maiden standing in the dewy But left her all the paler, when La- light, vaine He had not dream'd she was so beau- Returning brought the yet-unblazon'd tiful. shield. Then came on him a sort of sacred His brother's; which he gave to fear, Lancelot, For silent, tho' he greeted her, she Who parted with his own to fair stood Elaine: Rapt on his face as if it were a " Do me this grace, my child, to have God's. my shield Suddenly flash'd on her a wild desire. In keeping till I come." " A grace to That he should wear her favor at the me," tilt. She answer'd, " twice to-day. I am She braved a riotous heart in asking your squire! " for it. WTiereat Lavaine said, laughing, " Fair lord, whose name I know not " Lily maid, — noble it is. For fear our people call you lily I well believe, the noblest — will you maid wear In earnest, let me bring your color My favor at this tourney? " " Nay," back; said he. Once, twice, and thrice: now get you " Fair lady, since I never yet have hence to bed : " worn So kiss'd her, and Sir Lancelot his Favor of any lady in the lists. own hand, Such is my wont, as those, who know And thus they moved away: she stay'd me, know." a minute, " Yea, so," she answer'd ; " then in Then made a sudden step to the gate, wearing mine and there — Needs must be lesser likelihood, Her bright hair blown about the seri- noble lord, ous face That those who know should know Yet rosy-kindled with her brother's you." And he turn'd kiss — Her counsel up and down within his Paused by the gateway, standing near mind, the shield 298 IDYLLS OF THE KING In silence, while she watch'd their arms far-off Sparkle, until they dipt below the downs. Then to her tower she climb'd, and took the shield, There kept it, and so lived in fantasy. Meanwhile the new companions past away Far o'er the long backs of the bush- less downs. To where Sir Lancelot knew there lived a knight Not far from Camelot, now for forty years A hermit, who had pray'd, labor'd and pray'd, And ever laboring had scoop'd himself In the white rock a chapel and a hall On massive columns, like a shorecliff cave. And cells and chambers: all were fair and dry; The green light from the meadows underneath Struck up and lived along the milky roofs ; And in the meadows tremulous as- pen trees And poplars made a noise of falling showers. And thither wending there that night they bode. But when the next day broke from underground, And shot red fire and shadows thro' the cave, They rose, heard mass, broke fast, and rode away : Then Lancelot saying, " Hear, but hold my name Hidden, you ride with Lancelot of the Lake." Abash'd Lavaine, whose instant rever- ence, Dearer to true young hearts than their own praise. But left him leave to stammer, " Is it indeed? " And after muttering, " The great Lancelot," At last he got his breath and answer'd, " One, One have I seen — that other, our liege lord, The dread Pendragon, Britain's King of kings. Of whom the people talk mysteriously, He will be there — then were I stricken blind That minute, I might say that I had seen." So spake Lavaine, and when they reach'd the lists By Camelot in the meadow, let his eyes Run thro' the peopled gallery which half round Lay like a rainbow fall'n upon the grass. Until they found the clear-faced King, who sat Robed in red samite, easily to be known, Since to his crown the golden dragon clung. And down his robe the dragon writhed in gold, And from the carven-work behind him crept Two dragons gilded, sloping down to make Arms for his chair, while all the rest of them Thro' knots and loops and folds Innu- merable Fled ever thro' the woodwork, till they found The new design wherein they lost themselves. Yet with all ease, so tender was the work : LANCELOT AND ELAINE 299 And, in the costly canopy o'er him set, Ranged with the Table Round that Blazed the last diamond of the name- held the lists, less king. Strong men, and wrathful that a stranger knight rr., T 1 »j Should do and almost overdo the 1 hen Lancelot answer d young , , Lavaine and said, ^r t i ^ i -j ^ .u .,-., ,, • • .u ^r Lancelot: and one said to the Me you call great: mme is the , ,, V ( firmer seat, -ixru ^ • 'u ? t j ^ ^u r^^, ILL- What is her 1 do not mean the Ihe truer lance: but there is many a r , , ■^ lorce alone — T.T ^ ^ , .,, ^ 11 T The grace and versatility of the Now crescent, who will come to all i '^ , •' ' man! . .^''^ . , . . Is it not Lancelot?" "When has And overcome it; and in me there j , ^ J ,, Lancelot worn T^T • 1 r rr Favor of any lady in the lists? JNo greatness, save it be some tar-olt -^.r^ , ,. \ *u ^ i ^ , ' JNot such his wont, as we, that know touch u- 1 " /-\r I II T ^ him, know. Of greatness to know well 1 am not ,< tt *u :> u *k > " i ^ ^ How then r who then i a fury ,^. ^ . ' )) A J T • seized them all, There is the man. And Lavaine ^ ^ ^^^.^ .^^ ^^^ ^^^ gaped upon him As on a thing miraculous, and anon ^^ t i ^ j i vu %^. ^ , , j' , J.J (Jf Lancelot, and a glory one with The trumpets blew; and then did theirs ei X er si e. They couch'd their spears and prick'd They that assail d, and they that held ^j^^j^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ the lists, Their plumes driv'n backward by the Set lance m rest, strike spur, suddenly ^.j^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ move. In moving, all together down upon Meet in the midst, and there so j^j^ „, , "^'*^"^ y . „ . , ,, Bare, as a wild wave in the wide Shock, that a man far-oit might well North-sea perceive, , r r u Green-glimmering toward the sum- If any man that day were left afield, ^.^^ ^^^^^^ ^j^j^ ^1^ The hard earth shake, and a low j^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^j^^^ thunder of arms. ^j^^ ^j^l^^ And Lancelot bode a little, till he j^^^^ ^^ ^ f,^^^^ ^^^ overbears the saw j^^j.j^ Which w-ere the weaker; then he ^^^ him 'that helms it, so they over- hurl d into it j^Qj.g Against the stronger: little need to gj^ Lancelot and his charger, and a speak spear Of Lancelot in his glory! King, Down-glancing lamed the charger, duke, earl, ^^^ ^ ^p^^^. Count, baron — whom he smote, he pj.j^,^,j ^^^^^^^ j^j^ ^^^^ ^^^j^^^^^ ^^^ o^^rthx^^. ^ ^he head ^ Pierced thro' his side, and there snapt, But In the field were Lancelot's and remain'd. kith and kin, 300 IDYLLS OF THE KING Then Sir Lavaine did well and Draw," — and Lavaine drew, and Sir worshipfully ; Lancelot gave He bore a knight of old repute to the A marvelous great shriek and ghastly earth, groan, And brought his horse to Lancelot And half his blood burst forth, and where he lay. down he sank He up the side, sweating with agony, For the pure pain, and wholly got, swoon'd away. But thought to do while he might yet Then came the hermit out and bare endure, him in. And being lustily holpen by the rest, There stanch'd his wound ; and there. His party, — tho' it seem'd half- in daily doubt miracle Whether to live or die, for many a To those he fought with, — drave his week kith and kin. Hid from the wide world's rumor by And all the Table Round that held the grove the lists. Of poplars with their noise of falling Back to the barrier; then the trumpets showers, blew And ever-tremulous aspen-trees, he Proclaiming his the prize, who wore lay. the sleeve Of scarlet, and the pearls ; and all the But on that day when Lancelot fled knights, the lists. His party, cried, " Advance and take His party, knights of utmost North thy prize and West, The diamond ; " but he answer'd. Lords of waste marshes, kings of " Diamond me desolate isles, No diamonds! for God's love, a little Came round their great Pendragon, air! saying to him. Prize me no prizes, for my prize is ' Lo, Sire, our knight, thro' whom we death! won the day. Hence will I, and I charge you, follow Hath gone sore wounded, and hath me not." left his prize Untaken, crying that his prize is He spoke, and vanish'd suddenly death." from the field " Heaven hinder," said the King, With young Lavaine into the poplar " that such an one, grove. So great a knight as we have seen to- There from his charger down he slid, day — and sat. He seem'd to me another Lancelot — Gasping to Sir Lavaine, " Draw the Yea, twenty times I thought him lance-head : " Lancelot — " Ah my sweet lord Sir Lancelot," He must not pass uncared for. said Lavaine, Wherefore, rise, " I dread me, if I draw it, you will O Gawain, and ride forth and find die." the knight. But he, " I die already with it: Wounded and wearied needs must he draw — be near. LANCELOT AND ELAINE 301 I charge you that you get at once to So all in wrath he got to horse and horse. went ; And, knights and kings, there While Arthur to the banquet, dark in breathes not one of you mood, Will deem this prize of ours is rashly Past, thinking, " Is it Lancelot who given : hath come His prowess was too wondrous. We Despite the wound he spake of, all for will do him gain No customary honor : since the knight Of glory, and hath added wound to Came not to us, of us to claim the wound, prize, And ridd'n away to die?" So Ourselves will send it after. Rise fear'd the King, and take And, after two days' tarriance there, This diamond, and deliver it, and return'd. return. Then when he saw the Queen, em- And bring us where he is, and how bracing ask'd, he fares, " Love, are you yet so sick ? " "Nay, And cease not from your quest until lord," she said. ye find." " And where is Lancelot ? " Then the Queen amazed. So saying, from the carven flower " Was he not with you ? won he not above, your prize?" To which it made a restless heart, he " Nay, but one like him." " Why took, that like was he." And gave the diamond: then from And when the King demanded how where he sat she knew. At Arthur's right, with smiling face Said, " Lord, no sooner had ye parted arose, from us. With smiling face and frowning heart Than Lancelot told me of a common a Prince talk In the mid might and flourish of his That men went down before his spear May, at a touch, Gawain, surnamed The Courteous, But knowing he was Lancelot ; his fair and strong, great name And after Lancelot, Tristram, and Conquer'd ; and therefore would he Geraint hide his name And Gareth, a good knight, but From all men, ev'n the King, and to therewithal this end Sir Modred's brother, and the child Had made the pretext of a hindering of Lot, wound, Nor often loyal to his word, and That he might joust unknown of all, now and learn Wroth that the King's command to If his old prowess were in aught sally forth decay'd ; In quest of whom he knew not, made And added, ' Our true Arthur, when him leave he learns. The banquet, and concourse of Will well allow my pretext, as for knights and kings. gain 302 IDYLLS OF THE KING Of purer glor}^' " Then replied the King; *' Far lovelier in our Lancelot had it been, In lieu of idly dallying with the truth, To have trusted me as he hath trusted thee. Surely his King and most familiar friend Might vvell have kept his secret. True, indeed, Albeit I know my knights fantastical. So fine a fear in our large Lancelot Must needs have moved my laughter: now remains But little cause for laughter: his own kin — 111 news, my Queen, for all who love him, this! — His kith and kin, not knowing, set upon him ; So that he went sore wounded from the field: Yet good news, too: for goodly hopes are mine That Lancelot is no more a lonely heart. He wore, against his wont, upon his helm A sleeve of scarlet, broider'd with great pearls, Some gentle maiden's gift." " Yea, lord," she said, " Thy hopes are mine," and saying that, she choked. And sharply turn'd about to hide her face, Past to her chamber, and there flung herself Down on the great King's couch, and writhed upon it. And clench'd her fingers till they bit the palm. And shriek'd out, " Traitor " to the unhearing wall, Then flash'd into wild tears, and rose again. And moved about her palace, proud and pale. Gawain the while thro' all the region round Rode with his diamond, wearied of the quest, Touch'd at all points, except the poplar grove. And came at last, tho' late, to Asto- lat: Whom glittering in enamel'd arms the maid Glanced at, and cried, " What news from Camelot, lord ? What of the knight with the red sleeve? " " He won." " I knew it," she said. " But parted from the jousts Hurt in the side," whereat she caught her breath ; Thro' her own side she felt the sharp lance go; Thereon she smote her hand : well- nigh she swoon 'd : And, while he gazed wonderingly at her, came The Lord of Astolat out, to whom the Prince Reported who he was, and on what quest Sent, that he bore the prize and could not find The victor, but had ridd'n a random round To seek him, and had wearied of the search. To whom the Lord of Astolat, " Bide with us. And ride no more at random, noble Prince ! Here was the knight, and here he left a shield ; This will he send or come for; furthermore LANCELOT AND ELAINE 303 Our son is with him; we shall hear And when the shield was brought^ anon ^"d Gawain saw Needs must we hear." To this the Sir Lancelot's azure lions, crown'd courteous Prince with gold, Accorded with his wonted courtesy, Ramp in the field, he smote his thigh. Courtesy with a touch of traitor in and mock'd: it " Right was the King! our Lancelot I And stay'd ; and cast his eyes on fair that true man ! " £iaine: "And right was I," she answer'd Where could be found face daintier? merrily, "I, then her shape Who dream'd my knight the greatest From forehead down to foot, perfect knight of all." again " And if / dream'd," said Gawain, From foot to forehead exquisitely " that you love turn'd: This greatest knight, j^our pardon! "Well — if I bide, lo! this wild lo, ye know it! flower for me! " Speak therefore: shall I waste myself And oft they met among the garden in vain?" ye^^s Full simple was her answer, " What And there he set himself to play upon know I ? j^gj. My brethren have been all my fellow- With sallying wit, free flashes from a ship ; }^gight And I, when often they have talk'd of Above her, graces of the court, and love, songs, Wish'd it had been my mother, for Sighs, and slow smiles, and golden they talk'd, eloquence Meseem'd, of what they knew not; And amorous adulation, till the maid so myself — Rebell'd against it, saying to him, I know not if I know what true love " Prince, is, O loyal nephew of our noble King, But if I know, then, if I love not Why ask you not to see the shield he him, left I know there is none other I can Whence you might learn his name? love." Why slight your King, " Yea, by God's death," said he, " ye And lose the quest he sent you on, love him well, and prove But would not, knew ye what all No surer than our falcon yesterday, others know. Who lost the hern we slipt her at. And whom he loves." " So be it," and went cried Elaine, To all the winds? " " Nay, by mine And lifted her fair face and moved head," said he, away: " I lose it, as we lose the lark in But he pursued her, calling, " Stay a heaven, little ! O damsel, in the light of your blue One golden minute's grace! he wore eyes; your sleeve: But an ye will it let me see the Would he break faith with one I may shield." not name? 304 IDYLLS OF THE KING Must our true man change like a leaf at last? Nay — like enow : why then, far be it from me To cross our mighty Lancelot in his loves ! And, damsel, for I deem you know full well Where your great knight is hidden, let me leave My quest with you ; the diamond also: here! For if you love, it will be sweet to give it; And if he love, it will be sweet to have it From your own hand ; and whether he love or not, A diamond is a diamond. Fare you well A thousand times ! — a thousand times farewell ! Yet, if he love, and his love hold, we two May meet at court hereafter: there, I think, So ye will learn the courtesies of the court. We two shall know each other." Then he gave, And slightly kiss'd the hand to which he gave, The diamond, and all wearied of the quest Leapt on his horse, and caroling as he went A true-love ballad, lightly rode away. Thence to the court he past; there told the King What the King knew, " Sir Lancelot IS the knight." And added, " Sire, my liege, so much I learnt; But fail'd to find him tho' I rode all round The region : but I lighted on the maid Whose sleeve he wore ; she loves him ; and to her. Deeming our courtesy is the truest law, I gave the diamond: she will render it; For by mine head she knows his hid- ing-place." The seldom-frowning King frown'd, and replied, " Too courteous truly ! ye shall go no more On quest of mine, seeing that ye for- get Obedience is the courtesy due to kings." He spake and parted. Wroth, but all in awe. For twenty strokes of the blood, with- out a word, Linger'd that other, staring after him ; Then shook his hair, strode off, and buzz'd abroad About the maid of Astolat, and her love. All ears were prick'd at once, all tongues were loosed. " The maid of Astolat loves Sir Lancelot, Sir Lancelot loves the maid of Asto- lat." Some read the King's face, some the Queen's, and all Had marvel what the maid might be, but most Predoom'd her as unworthy. One old dame Came suddenly on the Queen with the sharp news. She, that had heard the noise of it before, But sorrowing Lancelot should have stoop'd so low, Marr'd her friend's aim with pale tranquillity. LANCELOT AND ELAINE 305 So ran the tale like fire about the " And of that other, for I needs must court, hence Fire in dry stubble a nine-daj's' won- And find that other, wheresoe'er he der flared: be, Till ev'n the knights at banquet twice And with mine own hand give his or thrice diamond to him, Forgot to drink to Lancelot and the Lest I be found as faithless in the Queen, quest And pledging Lancelot and the lily As yon proud Prince who left the maid quest to me. Smiled at each other, while the Sweet father, I behold him in my Queen, who sat dreams With lips severely placid, felt the Gaunt as it were the skeleton of knot himself, Climb in her throat, and with her feet Death-pale, for lack of gentle maid- unseen en's aid. Crush'd the wild passion out against The gentler-born the maiden, the the floor more bound. Beneath the banquet, where the meats My father, to be sweet and serviceable became To noble knights in sickness, as ye As wormwood, and she hated all who know pledged. When these have worn their tokens: let me hence I pray you." Then her father nod- But far away the maid in Astolat, ding said, Her guiltless rival, she that ever kept " Aye, aye, the diamond : wit ye well. The one-day-seen Sir Lancelot in her my child, heart, Right fain were I to learn this knight Crept to her father, while he mused were whole, alone. Being our greatest: yea, and you Sat on his knee, stroked his gray face must give it — and said, And sure I think this fruit is hung " Father, you call me wilful, and the too high fault For any mouth to gape for save a Is yours who let me have my will, and queen's — now, Nay, I mean nothing: so then, get Sweet father, will you let me lose my you gone, wits? " Being so very wilful you must go." " Nay," said he, " surely." " Where- fore, let me hence," Lightly, her suit allow'd, she slipt She answer'd, " and find out our dear away, Layaine." And while she made her ready for her '■ Ye will not lose your wits for dear ride, Lavaine: Her father's latest word humm'd in Bide," answer'd he: "we needs must her ear, near anon " Being so very wilful you must go," Of him, and of that other." " Aye," And changed itself and echo'd in her she said, heart. 3o6 IDYLLS OF THE KING " Being so very wilful you must die." Because he had not loosed it from his But she was happy enough and shook helm, it off, But meant once more perchance to As we shake off the bee that buzzes tourney in it. at us; And when they gain'd the cell where- And in her heart she answer'd it and in he slept, said, His battle-writhen arms and mighty " What matter, so I help him back to hands life ? " Lay naked on the wolfskin, and a Then far away with good Sir Torre dream for guide Of dragging down his enemy made Rode o'er the long backs of the bush- them move. less downs Then she that saw him lying unsleek, To Camelot, and before the city-gates unshorn. Came on her brother with a happy Gaunt as it were the skeleton of him- face self. Making a roan horse caper and curvet Utter'd a little tender dolorous cry. For pleasure all about a field of flow- The sound not wonted in a place so ers: still Whom when she saw, " Lavaine," Woke the sick knight, and while he she cried, " Lavaine, roll'd his eyes How fares my lord Sir Lancelot?" Yet blank from sleep, she started to He amazed, him, saying, "Torre and Elaine! why here? " Your prize the diamond sent you by Sir Lancelot! the King:" How know ye my lord's name is His eyes glisten'd : she fancied, " Is Lancelot?" it for me?" But when the maid had told him all And when the maid had told him all her tale, the tale Then turn'd Sir Torre, and being in Of King and Prince, the diamond his moods sent, the quest Left them, and under the strange- Assign'd to her not worthy of it, she statued gate, knelt Where Arthur's wars were render'd Full lowly by the corners of his bed, mystically, And laid the diamond in his open Past up the still rich city to his kin, hand. His own far blood, which dwelt at Her face was near, and as we kiss the Camelot ; child And her, Lavaine across the poplar That does the task assign'd, he kiss'd grove her face. Led to the caves: there first she saw At once she slipt like water to the the casque floor. Of Lancelot on the wall : her scarlet " Alas," he said, " your ride hath sleeve, wearied you. Tho' carved and cut, and half the Rest must you have." " No rest for pearls away, me," she said ; Stream'd from it still ; and in her " Nay, for near you, fair lord, I am at heart she laugh'd, rest." LANCELOT AND ELAINE 307 What might she mean by that? his Milder than any mother to a sick large black eyes, child, Yet larger thro' his leanness, dwelt And never woman yet, since man's upon her, first fall. Till all her heart's sad secret blazed Did kindlier unto man, but her deep itself love In the heart's colors on her simple Upbore her; till the hermit, skill'd in face ; all And Lancelot look'd and was per- The simples and the science of that plext in mind, time, And being weak in body said no Told him that her fine care had saved more; his life. But did not love the color; woman's And the sick man forgot her simple love, blush. Save one, he not regarded, and so Would call her friend and sister, turn'd sweet Elaine, Sighing, and feign'd a sleep until he Would listen for her coming and re- slept, gret Her parting step, and held her Then rose Elaine and glided thro' tenderly, the fields, And loved her with all love except And past beneath the weirdly-sculp- the love tured gates Of man and woman when they love Far up the dim rich city to her kin ; their best, There bode the night: but woke with Closest and sweetest, and had died dawn, and past the death Down thro' the dim rich city to the In any knightly fashion for her sake. fields. And peradventure had he seen her Thence to the cave: so day by day first she past She might have made this and that In either twilight ghost-like to and other world fro Another world for the sick man ; but Gliding, and every day she tended now him. The shackles of an old love straiten'd And likewise many a night: and him, Lancelot His honor rooted in dishonor stood. Would, tho' he call'd his wound a And faith unfaithful kept him falsely little hurt true. Whereof he should be quickly whole, at times Brain-feverous in his heat and agony, Yet the great knight in his mid- seem sickness made Uncourteous, even he: but the meek Full many a holy vow and pure re- maid solve. Sweetly forbore him ever, being to These, as but born of sickness, could him not live : Meeker than any child to a rough For when the blood ran lustier in nurse, him again. 3o8 IDYLLS OF THE KING Full often the bright Image of one face, Making a treacherous quiet in his heart, Dispersed his resolution like a cloud. Then if the maiden, while that ghostly grace Beam'd on his fancy, spoke, he an- swer'd not, Or short and coldly, and she knew right well What the rough sickness meant, but what this meant She knew not, and the sorrow dimm'd her sight. And drave her ere her time across the fields Far into the rich city, where alone She murmur'd, " Vain, in vain : it can- not be. He will not love me: how then? must I die? " Then as a little helpless innocent bird, That has but one plain passage of few- notes. Will sing the simple passage o'er and o'er For all an April morning, till the ear Wearies to hear it, so the simple maid Went half the night repeating, "Must I die?" And now to right she turn'd, and now to left, And found no ease in turning or in rest; And " Him or death," she mutter'd, " death or him," Again and like a burthen, " Him or death." But when Sir Lancelot's deadly hurt was whole, To Astolat returning rode the three. There morn by morn, arraying her sweet self In that wherein she deem'd she look'd her best. She came before Sir Lancelot, for she thought "If I be loved, these are my festal robes. If not, the victim's flowers before he fall." And Lancelot ever prest upon the maid That she should ask some goodly gift of him For her own self or hers; "and do not shun To speak the wish most near to your true heart ; Such service have ye done me, that I make My will of yours, and Prince and Lord am I In mine own land, and what I will I can. Then like a ghost she lifted up her face. But like a ghost without the power to speak. And Lancelot saw that she withheld her wish. And bode among them yet a little space Till he should learn it ; and one morn it chanced He found her in among the garden yews. And said, " Delay no longer, speak your wish, Seeing I go to-day:" then out she brake : " Going? and we shall never see you more. And I must die for want of one bold word." " Speak: that I live to hear," he said, " is yours." Then suddenly and passionately she spoke : " I have gone mad. I love you: let me die." LANCELOT AND ELAINE 309 "" Ah, sister," answer'd Lancelot, Beyond mine old belief in woman- " what is this?" hood, And innocently extending her white More specially should your good arms, knight be poor, ** Your love," she said, " your love — Endow you with broad land and terri- to be your wife." tory And Lancelot answer'd, " Had I Even to the half my realm beyond the chosen to wed, seas, I had been wedded earlier, sweet So that would make you happy: fur- Elaine : thermore. But now there never will be wife of Ev'n to the death, as tho' ye were my mine." blood, ■" No, no," she cried, " I care not to In all your quarrels will I be your be wife, knight. But to be with you still, to see your This will I do, dear damsel, for your face, sake. To serve you, and to follow you thro' And more than this I cannot." the world." And Lancelot answer'd, " Nay, the world, the world, All ear and eye, with such a stupid heart To interpret ear and eye, and such a tongue To blare its own interpretation — nay. Full ill then should I quit your brother's love. And your good father's kindness." And she said, " Not to be with you, not to see your face — Alas for me then, my good days are done." " Nay, noble maid," he answer'd, " ten times nay! This is not love: but love's first flash in youth, Most common : yea, I know it of mine own self: And you yourself will smile at your own self While he spoke She neither blush'd nor shook, but deathly-pale Stood grasping what was nearest, then replied : " Of all this will I nothing; " and so fell. And thus they bore her swooning to her tower. Then spake, to whom thro' those black walls of yew Their talk had pierced, her father: " Aye, a flash, I fear me, that will strike my blossom dead. Too courteous are ye, fair Lord Lancelot. I pray you, use some rough discour- tesy To blunt or break her passion." Lancelot said. Hereafter, when you yield your flower " That were against me : what I can I of life will ; " To one more fitly yours, not thrice And there that day remain'd, and to- your age: ward even And then will I, for true you are and Sent for his shield: full meekly rose sweet the maid. 3IO IDYLLS OF THE KING Stript off the case, and gave the naked shield ; Then, when she heard his horse upon the stones. Unclasping flung the casement back, and look'd Down on his helm, from which her sleeve had gone. And Lancelot knew the little clinking sound ,- And she by tact of love was well aware That Lancelot knew that she was looking at him. And yet he glanced not up, nor waved his hand. Nor bade farewell, but sadly rode away. This was the one discourtesy that he used. So in her tower alone the maiden sat: His very shield was gone; only the case, Her own poor work, her empty labor, left. But still she heard him, still his pic- ture form'd And grew between her and the pic- tured wall. Then came her father, saying in low tones, " Have comfort," whom she greeted quietly. Then came her brethren saying, " Peace to thee. Sweet sister," whom she answer'd with all calm. But when they left her to herself again. Death, like a friend's voice from a dis- tant field Approaching thro' the darkness, call'd ; the owls Wailing had power upon her, and she mixt Her fancies with the sallow-rifted glooms Of evening, and the moanings of the wind. And in those days she made a little song. And call'd her song, " The Song of Love and Death," And sang it: sweetly could she make and sing. " Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain ; And sweet is death who puts an end to pain : I know not which is sweeter, no, not L "Love, art tnou sweet? then bit- ter death must be: Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me. O, Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. " Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away, Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. " I fain would follow love, if that could be; I needs must follow death, who calls for me; Call and I follow, I follow! let me die." High with the last line scaled her voice, and this. All in a fiery dawning wild with wind That shook her tower, the brothers heard, and thought With shuddering, " Hark the Phan- tom of the house LANCELOT AND ELAINE 311 That ever shrieks before a death," And then I said, ' Now shall I have and call'd my will : ' The father, and all three in hurry And there I woke, but still the wish and fear remain'd. Ran to her, and lo! the blood-red So let me hence that I may pass at light of dawn last Flared on her face, she shrilling, Beyond the poplar and far up the " Let me die! " As when we dwell upon a word we know. Repeating, till the word we know so well Becomes a wonder, and we know not why. So dwelt the father on her face, and thought "Is this Elaine?" till back the maiden fell, Then gave a languid hand to each, and lay, Speaking a still good-morrow with her eyes. At last she said, " Sweet brothers, yesternight I seem'd a curious little maid again, flood. Until I find the palace of the King. There will I enter in among them all, And no man there will dare to mock at me; But there the fine Gawain will won- der at me. And there the great Sir Lancelot muse at me ; Gawain, who bade a thousand fare- wells to me, Lancelot, who coldly went, nor bade me one: And there the King will know me and my love, And there the Queen herself will pity me, And all the gentle court will welcome me, As happy as when we dwelt among And after my long voyage I shall the woods, rest! " And when ye used to take me with " Peace," said her father, " O my child, ye seem Light-headed, for what force is yours to go So far, being sick? and wherefore would ye look On this proud fellow again, who scorns us all?" Then the rough Torre began to heave and move. Beyond it, and far up the shining And bluster into stormy sobs and flood say. Until we found the palace of the " I never loved him : an I meet with King. him, And yet ye would not ; but this night I care not howsoever great he be,^ I dream'd Then will I strike at him and strike That I was all alone upon the flood, him down. the flood Up the great river in the boatman's boat. Only ye would not pass beyond the cape That has the poplar on it: there ye fixt Your limit, oft returning with the tide. And yet I cried because ye would not pass -512 IDYLLS OF THE KING Give me good fortune, I will strike him dead, For this discomfort he hath done the house." To whom the gentle sister made reply, " Fret not yourself, dear brother, nor be wroth, Seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's fault Not to love me, than it is mine to love Him of all men who seems to me the highest." "Highest?" the father answer'd, echoing " highest? " (He meant to break the passion in her) " nay. Daughter, I know not what you call the highest; But this I know, for all the people know it, He loves the Queen, and in an open shame : And she returns his love in open shame ; If this be high, what is it to be low?" Then spake the lily maid of Asto- lat: " Sweet father, all too faint and sick am I For anger: these are slanders: never yet Was noble man but made ignoble talk. He makes no friend who never made a foe. But now it is my glory to have loved One peerless, without stain: so let me pass. My father, howsoe'er I seem to you, Not all unhappy, having loved God's best And greatest, tho' my love had no return : Yet, seeing you desire your child to live, Thanks, but you work against your own desire; For if I could believe the things you say I should but die the sooner; where- fore cease. Sweet father, and bid call the ghostly man Hither, and let me shrive me clean,^ and die." So when the ghostly man had come and gone. She with a face, bright as for sin forgiven, Besought Lavaine to write as she devised A letter, word for word ; and when he ask'd, " Is it for Lancelot, is it for my dear lord? Then will I bear it gladly ; " she replied, " For Lancelot and the Queen and all the world, But I mj^self must bear it." Then he wrote The letter she devised ; which being writ And folded, " O sweet father, tender and true, Deny me not," she said — " ye never yet Denied my fancies — this, however strange, My latest: lay the letter in my hand A little ere I die, and close the hand Upon it ; I shall guard it even in death. And when the heat is gone from out my heart. Then take the little bed on which I died AND THE DEAD, OARED BY THE DUMB, WENT UPWARD WITH THE FLOOD" —Page 313 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 313 For Lancelot's love, and deck it like Pall'd all its length in blackest the Queen's samite, lay. For richness, and me also like the There sat the lifelong creature of the Queen house, In all I have of rich, and lay me on Loyal, the dumb old servitor, on it. deck. And let there be prepared a chariot- Winking his eyes, and twisted all his, bier face. To take me to the river, and a barge So those two brethren from the Be ready on the river, clothed in chariot took black. And on the black decks laid her in I go in state to court, to meet the her bed, Queen. Set in her hand a lily, o'er her hung There surely I shall speak for mine The silken case with braided blazon- own self, ings, And none of you can speak for me so And kiss'd her quiet brows, and say- well, ing to her. And therefore let our dumb old man " Sister, farewell forever," and alone again, Go with me, he can steer and row, " Farewell, sweet sister," parted all and he in tears. Will guide me to that palace, to the Then rose the dumb old servitor, doors." and the dead, Oar'd by the dumb, went upward She ceased: her father promised: t i • i i i i i-i • i i r I In her right hand the lily, m her left whereupon r^^, , *= „ , , • , , • Qi u f 1 *u *. *i, J- he letter — all her bright hair She grew so cheerful that they . , ^ J 'J u J i-u streaming down — deem d her death a j n l i-i i i <■ ITT ^u • 4.U i .. 4.U 4.U -And all the coverlid was cloth of Was rather in the fantasy than the , , ki J gold blood. T^ "^ , . Ill ^e T> . ^ 1 • * J Drawn to her waist, and she herself rsut ten slow mornings past, and on ... ' th 1 i-h '" white Hr ..u 1 -J ..u 1 ..* • V, All but her face, and that clear-fea- er father laid the letter in her , , ' , J tured face A J 1 J *u 1, J •* J u Was lovely, for she did not seem as And closed the hand upon it, and she , , ■" J- J r^ ' dead. So that' day there was dole in Astolat. ^"^ ^^'' f''^' ^"'^ ^^>^ ^' *^^' '^'^ ^ smiled. But when the next sun brake from underground, That day Sir Lancelot at the Then, those two brethren slowly palace craved with bent brows Audience of Guinevere, to give at Accompanying, the sad chariot-bier last Past like a shadow thro' the field. The price of half a realm, his costly that shone gift. Full-summer, to that stream where- Hard-won and hardly won with on the barge, bruise and blow, 3H IDYLLS OF THE KING With deaths of others, and almost his own, The nine-years- fought-for diamonds: for he saw- One of her house, and sent him to the Queen Bearing his wish, wliereto the Queen agreed With such and so unmoved a majesty She might have seem'd her statue, but that he. Low-drooping till he wellnigh kiss'd her feet For loyal awe, saw with a sidelong eye The shadow of some piece of pointed lace, In the Queen's shadow, vibrate on the walls, And parted, laughing In his courtly heart. All in an oriel on the summer side. Vine-clad, of Arthur's palace toward the stream, They met, and Lancelot kneeling ut- ter'd, " Queen, Lady, my liege, in whom I have my joy, Take, what I had not won except for you. These jew^els, and make me happy, making them An armlet for the roundest arm on earth, Or necklace for a neck to which the swan's Is tawnier than her cygnet's: these are words : Your beauty is your beauty, and I sin In speaking, yet O grant my worship of it Words, as we grant grief tears. Such sin in words Perchance, we both can pardon: but, my Queen, I hear of rumors flying thro' your court Our bond, as not the bond of man and wife, Should have in It an absoluter trust To make up that defect: let rumors be: When did not rumors fly? these, as I trust That you trust me in your own nobleness, I may not well believe that you believe." While thus he spoke, half turn'd away, the Queen Brake from the vast oriel-embower- ing vine Leaf after leaf, and tore, and cast them off. Till all the place whereon she stood was green ; Then, when he ceased, in one cold passive hand Received at once and laid aside the gems There on a table near her, and replied : " It may be, I am quicker of belief Than you believe me, Lancelot of the Lake. Our bond is not the bond of man and wife. This good is in it, whatso'er of ill. It can be broken easier. I for you This many a year have done despite and wrong To one whom ever in my heart of hearts I did acknowledge nobler. W^hat are these ? Diamonds for me! they had been thrice their worth Being your gift, had you not lost your own. To loyal hearts the value of all gifts LANCELOT AND ELAINE 315 Must vary as the giver's. Not for Close underneath his eyes, and right me ! across For her! for your new fancy. Only Where these had fallen, slowly past this the barge Grant me, I pray you : have your Whereon the lily maid of Astolat joys apart. Lay smiling, like a star in blackest I doubt not that however changed, night. you keep So much of what is graceful : and But the wild Queen, who saw not, myself burst away Would shun to break those bounds of To weep and wail in secret ; and the courtesy barge, In which as Arthur's Queen I move On to the palace-doorway sliding, and rule: paused. So cannot speak my mind. An end There two stood arm'd, and kept the to this! door; to whom, A strange one! yet I take it with All up the marble stair, tier over Amen. tier. So pray you, add my diamonds to Were added mouths that gaped, and her pearls; eyes that ask'd. Deck her with these; tell her, she "What is it?" but that oarsman's shines me down: haggard face. An armlet for an arm to which the As hard and still as is the face that Queen's men Is haggard, or a necklace for a neck Shape to their fancy's eye from O as much fairer — as a faith once broken rocks fair On some cliff-side, appall'd them, Was richer than these diamonds — and they said, hers not mine — "He is enchanted, cannot speak — Nay, by the mother of our Lord him- and she, self, Look how she sleeps — the Fairy Or hers or mine, mine now to work Queen, so fair! my will Yea, but how pale! what are they? She shall not have them," flesh and blood? Or come to take the King to Fairy- Saying which she seized, land ? And, thro' the casement standing For some do hold our Arthur cannot wide for heat, die. Flung them, and down they flash'd, But that he passes into Fairyland." and smote the stream. Then from the smitten surface While thus they babbled of the flash'd, as it were. King, the King Diamonds to meet them, and they Came girt with knights: then turn'd past away. the tongueless man Then while Sir Lancelot leant, in From the half-face to the full eye, half disdain and rose At love, life, all things, on the And pointed to the damsel^ and the window ledge, doors. 3i6 IDYLLS OF THE KING So Arthur bade the meek Sir Percivale And pure Sir Galahad to uplift the maid ; And reverently they bore her into hall. Then came the fine Gawain and wonder'd at her, And Lancelot later came and mused at her, And last the Queen herself, and pitied her: But Arthur spied the letter in her hand, Stoopt, took, brake seal, and read it; this was all : " Most noble lord. Sir Lancelot of the Lake, I, sometime call'd the maid of Asto- lat. Come, for you left me taking no farewell. Hither, to take my last farewell of you. I loved you, and my love had no return. And therefore my true love has been my death. And therefore to our Lady Guine- vere, And to all other ladies, I make moan: Pray for my soul, and yield me burial. Pray for my soul thou, too. Sir Lancelot, As thou art a knight peerless." Thus he read; And ever in the reading, lords and dames Wept, looking often from his face who read To hers which lay so silent, and at times, So touch'd were they, half-thinking that her lips, Who had devised the letter, moved again. Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to them all; " My lord liege Arthur, and all ye that hear. Know that for this most gentle maid- en's death Right heavy am I ; for good she was and true. But loved me with a love beyond all love In women, whomsoever I have known. Yet to be loved makes not to love again ; Not at my years, however it hold in youth. I swear by truth and knighthood that I gave No cause, not willingly, for such a love: To this I call my friends in testi- mony, Her brethren, and her father, who himself Besought me to be plain and blunt, and use. To break her passion, some discour- tesy Against my nature: what I could, I did. I left her and I bade her no farewell ; Tho' had I dreamt the damsel would have died, I might have put my wits to some rough use. And help'd her from herself." Then said the Queen (Sea was her wrath, yet working after storm) " Ye might at least have done her so much grace, Fair lord, as would have help'd her from her death." LANCELOT AND ELAINE 317 He raised his head, their eyes met And mass, and rolling music, like a and hers fell, queen. He adding, And when the knights had laid her " Queen, she would not be content comely head Save that I wedded her, which could Low in the dust of half-forgotten not be. kings, Then might she follow me thro' the Then Arthur spake among them, world, she ask'd ; " Let her tomb It could not be. I told her that her Be costly, and her image there- love upon. Was but the flash of youth, would And let the shield of Lancelot at darken down her feet To rise hereafter in a stiller flame Be carven, and her lily in her hand. Toward one more worthy of her — And let the story of her dolorous then would I, voyage More specially were he, she wedded. For all true hearts be blazon'd on her poor, tomb Estate them with large land and ter- In letters gold and azure!" which ritory was wrought In mine own realm beyond the nar- Thereafter; but when now the lords row seas, and dames To keep them in all joyance: more And people, from the high door than this streaming, brake I could not; this she would not, and Disorderly, as homeward each, the she died," Queen, Who mark'd Sir Lancelot where he He pausing, Arthur answer'd, ^ "^^^'^^ ^P^^]' . ^,, . « o my knight, ^^T< "'^'■', ^"^ ''^^ ^ •" P^'''"g' It will be to thy worship, as my ^ . ^^"^elot, _ . , . j^j^- [^j -borgive me; mme was jealousy m And mine, as head of all our Table tt " > i • i i • j^Q^jj^ 1 -Tie answer d with his eyes upon the To see that she be buried worship- « t^, ^ . ,' , £11 )) i nat IS love s curse ; pass on, my Queen, forgiven." But Arthur, who beheld his cloudy So toward that shrine which then brows, in all the realm _ Approach'd him, and with full affec- Was richest, Arthur leading, slowly tion said, went The marshal'd Order of their Table " Lancelot, my Lancelot, thou in Round, whom I have And Lancelot sad beyond his wont, Most joy and most affiance, for I to see know The maiden buried, not as one un- What thou hast been in battle by my known, side, Nor meanly, but with gorgeous ob- And many a time have watch'd thee sequies, it the tilt 3i8 IDYLLS OF THE KING Strike down the lusty and long prac- What should be best, if not so pure a tised knight, love And let the younger and unskill'd go Clothed in so pure a loveliness? yet by thee To win his honor and to make his She fail'd to bind, tho' being, as I name, think, And loved thy courtesies and thee, a Unbound as yet, and gentle, as I man know." Made to be loved ; but now I would to God, Seeing the homeless trouble in thine And Lancelot answer'd nothing, eyes, but he went. Thou couldst have loved this maiden. And at the inrunning of a little shaped, it seems, brook By God for thee alone, and from Sat by the river in a cove, and her face, watch'd If one may judge the living by the The high reed wave, and lifted up dead, his eyes Delicately pure and marvelously And saw the barge that brought her fair, moving down. Who might have brought thee, now Far-off, a blot upon the stream, and a lonely man said Wifeless and heirless, noble issue, Low in himself, " Ah, simple heart sons and sweet. Born to the glory of thy name and Ye loved me, damsel, surely with a fame, love My knight, the great Sir Lancelot of Far tenderer than my Queen's. the Lake." Pray for thy soul? Aye, that will I. Farewell, too — Then answer'd Lancelot, " Fair now at last — she was, my King, Farewell, fair lily. ' Jealousy in Pure, as you ever wish your knights love?' to be. Not rather dead love's harsh heir, To doubt her fairness were to want jealous pride? an eye, Queen, if I grant the jealousy as of To doubt her pureness were to want love, a heart — May not your crescent fear for name Yea, to be loved, if what is worthy and fame love Speak, as it waxes, of a love that Could bind him, but free love will wanes? not be bound." Why did the King dwell on my name to me? " Free We, so bound, were freest," Mine own name shames me, seeming said the King. a reproach, "Let love be free; free love is for Lancelot, whom the Lady of the the best: Lake And, after heaven, on our dull side Caught from his mother's arms — of death, the wondrous one THE HOLY GRAIL 319 Who passes thro' the vision of the Not knowing he should die a holy night — man. She chanted snatches of mysterious hymns Heard on the winding waters, eve THE HOLY GRAIL and morn She kiss'd me saying, " Thou art From noiseful arms, and acts of fair, my child, prowess done As a king's son," and often in her In tournament or tilt. Sir Percivale, arms Whom Arthur and his knighthood She bare me, pacing on the dusky call'd The Pure, mere. Had pass'd into the silent life of Would she had drown'd me in it, prayer, where'er it be! Praise, fast and alms; and leaving for For what am I ? what profits me my the cowl name The helmet in an abbey far away Of greatest knight? I fought for it, From Camelot, there, and not long and have it: after, died. Pleasure to have it, none ; to lose it. pam ; Now grown a part of me: but what use in it? To make men worse by making my sin known ? Or sin seem less, the sinner seeming great ? Alas, for Arthur's greatest knight, a man Not after Arthur's heart! I needs must break These bonds that so defame me: not without She wills it: would I, if she will'd it? nay, Who knows? but if I would not, then may God, I pray him, send a sudden Angel down To seize me by the hair and bear me far, And fling me deep in that forgotten mere. And one, a fellow-monk among the rest, Ambrosius, loved him much beyond the rest. And honor'd him, and wrought into his heart A way by love that waken'd love within. To answer that which came: and as they sat Beneath a world-old yew-tree, dark- ening half The cloisters, on a gustful April morn That puff'd the swaying branches into smoke Above them, ere the summer when he died, The monk Ambrosius question'd Percivale : " O brother, I have seen this yew- tree smoke, Among the tumbled fragments of the Spring after spring, for half a hun- hills." dred years: For never have I known the world without. So groan'd Sir Lancelot in re- Nor ever stray'd beyond the pale: remorseful pain, but thee. 320 IDYLLS OF THE KING When first thou earnest — such a courtesy Spake thro' the limbs and in the voice — I knew For one of those who eat in Arthur's hall ; For good ye are and bad, and like to coins, Some true, some light, but every one of you Stamp'd with the image of the King; and now Tell mc, what drove thee from the Table Round, My brother? was it earthly passion crost?" " N^y," said the knight ; " for no such passion mine. But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail Drove me from all vain glories, rival- ries, And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out Among us in the jousts, while women watch Who wins, who falls ; and waste the spiritual strength Within us, better offer'd up to Heaven." To whom the monk: "The Holy Grail! — I trust We are green in Heaven's eyes; but here too much We molder — as to things without I mean — Yet one of your own knights, a guest of ours, Told us of this in our refectory. But spake with such a sadness and so low We heard not half of what he said. What is it? The phantom of a cup that comes and goes? " "Nay, monk! what phantom?" answer'd Percivale. " The cup, the cup itself, from which our Lord Drank at the last sad supper with his own. This, from the blessed land of Aro- mat — After the day of darkness, when the dead Went wandering o'er Moriah — the good saint Arimatha^an Joseph, journeying brought To Glastonbury, where the winter thorn Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of our Lord. And there awhile it bode; and if a man Could touch or see it, he was heal'd at once. By faith, of all his ills. But then the times Grew to such evil that the holy cup Was caught away to Heaven, and disappear'd." To whom the monk : " From our old books I know That Joseph came of old to Glaston- bury, And there the heathen Prince, Arvi- ragus, Gave him an isle of marsh whereon to build ; And there he built with wattles from the marsh A little lonely church in days of yore, For so they say, these books of ours, but seem Mute of this miracle, far as I have read. But who first saw the holy thing to- day? " THE HOLY GRAIL 321 '* A woman," ansvver'd Percivale, That now the Holy Grail would " a nun, come again ; And one no further off in blood from But sin broke out. Ah, Christ, that me it would come. Than sister; and if ever holy maid And heal the world of all their With knees of adoration wore the wickedness! stone, ' O Father ! ' asked the maiden, A holy maid ; tho' never maiden * might it come glow'd, To me by prayer and fasting? ' But that was in her earlier maiden- ' Nay,' said he, hood, ' I know not, for thy heart is pure With such a fervent flame of human as snow.' love. And so she pray'd and fasted, till Which being rudely blunted, the sun glanced and shot Shone, and the wind blew, thro' her, Only to holy things ; to prayer and and I thought praise She might have risen and floated She gave herself, to fast and alms. when I saw her. And yet. Nun as she was, the scandal of the " For on a day she sent to speak Court, with me. Sin against Arthur and the Table And when she came to speak, behold Round, her eyes And the strange sound of an adulter- Beyond my knowing of them, beauti- ous race, ful, Across the iron grating of her cell Beyond all knowing of them, won- Beat, and she pray'd and fasted all derful, the more. Beautiful in the light of holiness. And ' O my brother Percivale,' she said, " And he to whom she told her * Sweet brother, I have seen the sins, or what Holy Grail: Her all but utter whiteness held for For, waked at dead of night, I sin, heard a sound A man well-nigh a hundred winters As of a silver horn from o'er the old, hills Spake often with her of the Holy Blown, and I thought, " It is not Grail, Arthur's use A legend handed down thro' five or To hunt by moonlight;" and the six, slender sound And each of these a hundred winters As from a distance beyond distance old, grew From our Lord's time. And when Coming upon me — O never harp King Arthur made nor horn. His Table Round, and all men's Nor aught we blow with breath, or hearts became touch with hand. Clean for a season, surely he had Was like that music as it came; and thought then 322 IDYLLS OF THE KING Stream'd thro' my cell a cold and My sister's vision, fill'd me with silver beam, amaze ; And down the long beam stole the His eyes became so like her own. Holy Grail, they seem'd Rose-red with beatings in it, as if Hers, and himself her brother more alive, than I. Till all the white walls of my cell were dyed "Sister or brother none had he; With rosy colors leaping on the wall: but some And then the music faded, and the Call'd him a son of Lancelot, and Grail some said Past, and the beam decay'd, and from Begotten by enchantment — chatter- the walls ers they, The rosy quiverings died into the Like birds of passage piping up and night. down, So now the Holy Thing is here again That gape for flies — we know not Among us, brother, fast thou too and whence they come; pray, For when was Lancelot wander- And tell thy brother knights to fast ingly lewd? and pray, That so perchance the vision may be " But she, the wan sweet maiden^ seen shore away By thee and those, and all the world Clean from her forehead all that be heal'd.' wealth of hair Which made a silken mat-work for "Then leaving the pale nun, I ., .^'i,- u i-. ju j , f 1 • And out of this she plaited broad spake of this , , To all men ; and myself fasted and a ^ jui. j -u , J -^ A strong sword-belt, and wove with At J silver thread Alwaj's, and many among us many « , . • ^u u u ■' ' , ■' And crimson in the belt a strange a week i • " Fasted and pray'd even to the utter- « . ' -i vu- -i ^ ■' A crimson grail within a silver most, 1 Expectant of the wonder that would ., \\^ u • \.^ u i-u* j ^ , And saw the bright boy-knight, and bound it on him, Saying, ' Aly knight, my love, my " And one there was among us, knight of heaven, ever moved O thou, my love, whose love is one Among us in white armor, Galahad. with mine, ' God make thee good as thou art I, maiden, round thee, maiden, bind beautiful,' my belt. Said Arthur, when he dubb'd him Go forth, for thou shalt see what I knight; and none, have seen, In so young youth, was ever made a And break thro' all, till one will knight crown thee king Till Galahad; and this Galahad, Far in the spiritual city:' and as she when he heard spake AND DOWN THE LONG BEAM STOLE THE HOLY GRAIL' " — Page 322 THE HOLY GRAIL 323 She sent the deathless passion in her And in the blast there smote along eyes the hall Thro' him, and made him hers, and A beam of light seven times more laid her mind clear than day: On him, and he believed in her be- And down the long beam stole the lief. "Then came a year of miracle: O brother, In our great hall there stood a va- cant chair, Fashion'd by Merlin ere he past away, And carven with strange figures; and in and out The figures, like a serpent, ran a scroll Of letters in a tongue no man could read. And Merlin call'd it ' The Siege per- ilous,' Perilous for good and ill; ' for there,' Because"^ f 'had not seen the Grail, he said, ,vould ride JNo man could sit but he should a <.„,„i„„^^„4-u ^ j j ■ .. r ,,.,,, A tM^elvemonth and a day in quest of lose himselr: -^ And once by misadvertence Merlin tt„*-i 't f^ .,j j v ^u •^ Until 1 round and saw it, as the In his own chair, and so was lost; i\/r„ o:,-*„^ „„,„ •*. j /^ 1 u j , , ' ' My sister saw it ; and (jalahad sware but he, , f ,^ ,. , the vow, Galahad, when he heard of Merlins ^^^ ^^^^ gj^ g^^^^ ^^^ Lancelot's doom, Holy Grail All over cover'd with a luminous cloud. And none might see who bare it, and it past. But every knight beheld his fellow's face As in a glory, and all the knights arose. And staring each at other like dumb men Stood, till I found a voice and sware a vow. " I sware a vow before them all, that I, cousin, sware. And Lancelot sware, and many among the knights, And Gawain sware, and louder than the rest." Then spake the monk Ambrosius, asking him, "What said the King? Did Arthur take the vow? " " Nay, for my lord," said Perci- vale, " the King, And rending, and a blast, and over- Was not in hall : for early that same head day, Thunder, and in the thunder was a Scaped thro' a cavern from a bandit cry. hold, Cried, ' If I lose myself, I save my- self!' " Then on a summer night It came to pass, While the great banquet lay along the hall. That Galahad would sit down in Merlin's chair. " And all at once, as there we sat, we heard A cracking and a riving of the roofs, 324 IDYLLS OF THE KING An outraged maiden sprang into the Climbs to the mighty hall that Mer- hall lin built. Crying on help: for all her shining And four great zones of sculpture, hair set betwixt Was smear'd with earth, and either With many a mystic symbol, gird milky arm the hall : Red-rent with hooks of bramble, and And in the lowest beasts are slaying all she wore men. Torn as a sail that leaves the rope And in the second men are slaying is torn beasts, In tempest: so the King arose and And on the third are warriors, per- went feet men. To smoke the scandalous hive of And on the fourth are men with those wild bees growing wangs, That made such honey in his realm. And over all one statue in the mold Howbeit Of Arthur, made by Merlin, with a Some little of this marvel he too crown, saw. And peak'd wings pointed to the Returning o'er the plain that then Northern Star. began And eastward fronts the statue, and To darken under Camelot; whence the crown the King And both the wings are made of Look'd up, calling aloud, ' Lo, there! gold, and flame the roofs At sunrise till the people in far fields. Of our great hall are roll'd in thun- Wasted so often by the heathen der-smoke ! hordes, Pray Heaven, they be not smitten by Behold it, crying, ' We have still a the bolt.' King.' For dear to Arthur was that hall of ours, As having there so oft with all his " And, brother, had you known knights our hall within, Feasted, and as the stateliest under Broader and higher than any in all heaven. the lands! Where twelve great windows blazon Arthur's wars, " O brother, had you known our And all the light that falls upon the mighty hall, board Which Merlin built for Arthur long Streams thro' the twelve great bat- ago! ties of our King. For all the sacred mount of Came- Nay, one there is, and at the eastern lot, end. And all the dim rich city, roof by Wealthy with wandering lines of roof, mount and mere, Tower after tower, spire beyond Where Arthur finds the brand Ex- spire, calibur. By grove, and garden-lawn, and And also one to the west, and coun- rushing brook, ter to it, THE HOLY GRAIL 325 And blank: and who shall blazon it? My King, thou wouldst have sworn.' when and how? — 'Yea, yea,' said he, O there, perchance, when all our ' Art thou so bold and hast not seen wars are done, the Grail ? ' The brand Excalibur will be cast away. " So to this hall full quickly rode the King, In horror lest the work by Merlin wrought, Dreamlike, should on the sudden vanish, wrapt In unremorseful folds of rolling fire. " ' Nay, lord, I heard the sound, I saw the light. But since I did not see the Holy Thing, I sware a vow to follow it till I saw.' " Then when he ask'd us, knight by knight, if any And in he rode, and up I glanced. Had seen it, all their answers were and saw as one: The golden dragon sparkling over ' Nay, lord, and therefore have we sworn our vows. " ' Lo now,' said Arthur, ' have ye seen a cloud? What go ye into the wilderness to Then Galahad on the sudden, and in a voice all: And many of those who burnt the hold, their arms Hack'd, and their foreheads grimed with smoke, and sear'd, Follow'd, and in among bright faces, ours, Full of the vision, prest: and then the King Spake to^me, being nearest, ' Perci- Shrilling along the hall to Arthur, vale, call'd (Because the hall was all in tumult 'But I, Sir Arthur, saw the Holy — some Grail Vowing and some protesting), 'what i g^w the' Holy Grail and heard a IS this? ^ "O Galahad, and O Galahad, fol- " O brother, when I told him what low me." ' had chanced. My sister's vision, and the rest, his " ' Ah, Galahad, Galahad,' said the face King, ' for such Darken'd, as I have seen it more As thou art is the vision, not for than once, these. When some brave deed seem'd to be Thy holy nun and thou have seen si done in vain, sign — Darken ; and ' Woe is me, my Holier is none, my Percivale, than knights,' he cried, she — ' Had I been here, ye had not sworn A sign to maim this Order which I the vow.' made. Bold was mine answer, * Had thyself But ye, that follow but the leader's been here, bell ' 326 IDYLLS OF THE KING (Brother, the King was hard upon The morrow morn once more in one his knights) full field ' Taliessin is our fullest throat of Of gracious pastime, that once more song, the King, And one hath sung and all the dumb Before ye leave him for this Quest, will sing. may count Lancelot is Lancelot, and hath over- The j'et-unbroken strength of all his borne knights, Five knights at once, and every Rejoicing in that Order which he younger knight, made.' Unproven, holds himself as Lance- lot, " So when the sun broke next from Till overborne by one, he learns — under ground, and ye, All the great table of our Arthur What are ye? Galahads? — no, nor closed Percivales ' And clash'd in such a tourney and so (For thus it pleased the King to full, range me close So many lances broken — never yet After Sir Galahad); 'nay,' said he. Had Camelot seen the like, since 'but men Arthur came; With strength and will to right the And I myself and Galahad, for a wrong'd, of power strength To lay the sudden heads of violence Was in us from the vision, overthrew flat, So many knights that all the people Knights that in twelve great battles cried, splash'd and dyed And almost burst the barriers in The strong White Horse in his own their heat, heathen blood — Shouting, ' Sir Galahad and Sir Per- But one hath seen, and all the blind civale! ' will see. Go, since your vows are sacred, be- " But when the next day brake ing made: from under ground — Yet — for ye know the cries of all O brother, had you known our Cam- my realm elot. Pass thro' this hall — how often, O Built by old kings, age after age, so my knights, old Your places being vacant at my The King himself had fears that it side, would fall, This chance of noble deeds will come So strange, and rich, and dim; for and go where the roofs Unchallenged, while ye follow wan- Totter'd toward each other in the dering fires sky. Lost in the quagmire! Many of Met foreheads all along the street of you, yea most, those Return no more: ye think I show Who watch'd us pass; and lower, myself and where the long Too dark a prophet: come now, let Rich galleries, lady-laden, weigh'd us meet the necks THE HOLY GRAIL 327 Of dragons clinging to the crazy walls, Thicker than drops from thunder, showers of flowers Pell as we past ; and men and boys astride On wyvern, lion, dragon, griffin, swan, At all the corners, named us each by name. Calling * God speed ! ' but in the ways below The knights and ladies wept, and rich and poor Wept, and the King himself could hardly speak For grief, and all in middle street the Queen, Who rode by Lancelot, wail'd and shriek'd aloud, * This madness has come on us for our sins.' So to the Gate of the three Queens we came. Where Arthur's wars are render'd mystically. And thence departed every one his way. " And I was lifted up in heart, and thought Of all my late-shown prowess in the lists, How my strong lance had beaten down the knights. So many and famous names ; and never yet Had heaven appear'd so blue, nor earth so green. For all my blood danced in me, and I knew That I should light upon the Holy Grail. " Thereafter, the dark warning of our King, That most of us would follow wan- dering fires, Came like a driving gloom across my mind. Then every evil word I had spoken once. And every evil thought I had thought of old. And every evil deed I ever did. Awoke and cried, ' This Quest is not for thee.' And lifting up mine eyes, I found myself Alone, and in a land of sand and thorns. And I was thirsty even unto death ; And I, too, cried, ' This Quest is not for thee.' " And on I rode, and when I thought my thirst Would slay me, saw deep lawns, and then a brook, With one sharp rapid, where the crisping white Play'd ever back upon the sloping wave. And took both ear and eye; and o'er the brook Were apple-trees, and apples by the brook Fallen, and on the lawns. ' I will rest here,' I said, ' I am not worthy of the Quest; ' But even while I drank the brook, and ate The goodly apples, all these things at once Fell into dust, and I was left alone, And thirsting, in a land of sand and thorns. " And then behold a woman at a door Spinning; and fair the house where- by she sat. And kind the woman's eyes and inno- cent. 328 IDYLLS OF THE KING And all her bearing gracious; and And up I went and touch'd him, and she rose he, too, Opening her arms to meet me, as Fell into dust, and I was left alone who should say, And wearying in a land of sand and ' Rest here; ' but when I touch'd her, thorns. lo! she, too, Fell into dust and nothing, and the ' And I rode on and found a house mighty hill. Became no better than a broken And on the top, a city wall'd : the shed, spires And in it a dead babe; and also Prick'd with incredible pinnacles into this heaven. Fell into dust, and I was left alone. And by the gateway stirr'd a crowd; and these Cried to me climbing, ' Welcome, "And on I rode, and greater was Percivale! my thirst. Thou mightiest and thou purest Then flash'd a yellow gleam across among men ! ' the world. And glad was I and clomb, but And where it smote the plowshare in found at top the field. No man, nor any voice. And thence The plowman left his plowing, and I past fell down Far thro' a ruinous city, and I saw Before it; where it glitter'd on her That man had once dwelt there; but pail, there I found The milkmaid left her milking, and Only one man of an exceeding age. fell down * Where is that goodly company,' Before it, and I knew not why, but said I, thought ' That so cried out upon me ? ' and ' The sun is rising,' tho' the sun had he had risen. Scarce any voice to answer, and yet Then was I ware of one that on me gasp'd, moved ' Whence and what art thou ? ' and In golden armor with a crown of even as he spoke gold Fell into dust, and disappear'd, and About a casque all jewels; and his I horse Was left alone once more, and cried In golden armor jewel'd everywhere: in grief, And on the splendor came, flashing ' Lo, if I find the Holy Grail itself me blind ; And touch it, it will crumble into And seem'd to me the Lord of all dust.' the world. Being so huge. But when I thought " And thence I dropt into a lowly he meant vale, To crush me, moving on me, lo! he. Low as the hill was high, and where too, the vale Open'd his arms to embrace me as Was lowest, found a chapel, and he came, thereby THE HOLY GRAIL 329 A holy hermit in a hermitage, And hither am I come; and never To whom I told my phantoms, and yet he said : Hath what thy sister taught me first to see, " ' O son, thou hast not true hu- This Holy Thing, fail'd from my mility, side, nor come The highest virtue, mother of them Cover'd, but moving with me night all; and day. For when the Lord of all things Fainter by day, but always in the made Himself night Naked of glory for His mortal Blood-red, and sliding down the change, blacken'd marsh " Take thou my robe," she said. Blood-red, and on the naked moun- " for all is thine," tain top And all her form shone forth with Blood-red, and in the sleeping mere sudden light below So that the angels were amazed, and Blood-red. And in the strength of she this I rode, Follow'd Him down, and like a fly- Shattering all evil customs every- ing star where, Led on the gray-hair'd wisdom of And past thro' Pagan realms, and the east ; made them mine. But her thou hast not known: for And clash'd with Pagan hordes, and what is this bore them down. Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and And broke thro' all, and in the thy sins? strength of this Thou hast not lost thyself to save Come victor. But my time is hard thyself at hand. As Galahad.' When the hermit And hence I go; and one will crown made an end, me king In silver armor suddenly Galahad Far in the spiritual city ; and come shone thnu, too. Before us, and against the chapel For thou shalt see the vision when I door go.' Laid lance, and enter'd, and we knelt in prayer. " While thus he spake, his eye. And there the hermit slaked my dwelling on mine, burning thirst. Drew me, with power upon me, till I And at the sacring of the mass I grew saw One with him, to believe as he The holy elements alone ; but he, believed. * Saw ye no more? I, Galahad, saw Then, when the day began to wane, the Grail, we went. The Holy Grail, descend upon the shrine: "There rose a hill that none but I saw the fiery face as of a child man could climb, That smote itself into the bread, and Scarr'd with a hundred wintry went ; water-courses — 330 IDYLLS OF THE KING Storm at the top, and when we gain'd it, storm Round us and death ; for every moment glanced His silver arms and gloom'd : so quick and thick The lightnings here and there to left and right Struck, till the dr}- old trunks about us, dead. Yea, rotten with a hundred years of death, Sprang into fire: and at the base we found On either hand, as far as eye could see, A great black swamp and of an evil smell, Part black, part whiten'd with the bones of men. Not to be crost, save that some ancient king Had built a way, where, link'd with many a bridge, A thousand piers ran into the great Sea. And Galahad fled along them bridge by bridge. And every bridge as quickly as he crost Sprang into fire and vanish'd, tho' I yearn'd To follow; and thrice above him all the heavens Open'd and blazed with thunder such as seem'd Shoutings of all the sons of God : and first At once I saw him far on the great Sea, In silver-shining armor starry-clear; And o'er his head the Holy Vessel hung Clothed in white samite or a lumi- nous cloud. And with exceeding swiftness ran the boat, If boat it were — I saw not whence it came. And when the heavens open'd and blazed again Roaring, I saw him like a silver star — And had he set the sail, or had the boat Become a living creature clad with wings ? And o'er his head the Holy Vessel hung Redder than any rose, a joy to me, For now I knew the veil had been withdrawn. Then in a moment when they blazed again Opening, I saw the least of little stars Down on the waste, and straight beyond the star I saw the spiritual city and all her spires And gateways in a glory like one pearl — No larger, tho' the goal of all the saints — Strike from the sea ; and from the star there shot A rose-red sparkle to the city, and there Dwelt, and I knew it was the Holy Grail, Which never eyes on earth again shall see. Then fell the floods of heaven drown- ing the deep. And how my feet recrost the death- ful ridge No memory in me lives ; but that I touch'd The chapel-doors at dawn I know; and thence Taking my war-horse from the holy man. Glad that no phantom vext me more, return'd THE HOLY GRAIL 331 To whence I came, the gate of Arthur's wars." " O brother," ask'd Ambrosius, — " for in sooth These ancient books — and they would win thee — teem. Only I find not there this Holy Grail, With miracles and marvels like to these, Not all unlike; which oftentime I read. Who read but on my breviary with ease. Till my head swims ; and then go forth and pass Down to the little thorpe that lies so close, And almost plaster'd like a martin's nest To these old walls — and mingle with our folk; And knowing every honest face of theirs As well as ever shepherd knew his sheep, And every homely secret in their hearts. Delight myself with gossip and old wives, And ills and aches, and teethings, lyings-in. And mirthful sayings, children of the place. That have no meaning half a league away: Or lulling random squabbles when they rise, Chafferings and chatterings at the market-cross. Rejoice, small man, in this small world of mine. Yea, even in their hens and in their eggs — O brother, saving this Sir Galahad, Came ye on none but phantoms in your quest, No man, no woman?" Then Sir Percivale: " All men, to one so bound by such a vow. And women were as phantoms. O my brother. Why wilt thou shame me to confess to thee How far I falter'd from my quest and vow ? For after I had lain so many nights, A bedmate of the snail and eft and snake, In grass and burdock, I was changed to wan And meager, and the vision had not come ; And* then I chanced upon a goodly town With one great dwelling in the mid- dle of ,it ; Thither I made, and there was I dis- arm 'd By maidens each as fair as any flower: But when they led me into hall, behold. The Princess of that castle was the one. Brother, and that one only, who had ever Made my heart leap; for when I moved of old A slender page about her father's hall. And she a slender maiden, all my heart Went after her with longing: yet we twain Had never kiss'd a kiss, or vow'd a vow. And now I came upon her, once again, Aqd one had wedded her, and he was dead, And all his land and \\ealth and state were hers. 332 IDYLLS OF THE KING And while I tarried, every day she Cared not for her, nor anything upon set earth." A banquet richer than the day be- fore Then said the monk, " Poor men, By me; for all her longing and her when j^ule is cold, will Must be content to sit by little fires. Was toward me as of old ; till one And this am I, so that ye care for fair morn, me I walking to and fro beside a Ever so little; yea, and blest be stream Heaven That flash'd across her orchard That brought thee here to this poor underneath house of ours Her castle-walls, she stole upon my Where all the brethren are so hard, walk, to warm And calling me the greatest of all My cold heart with a friend : but O knights, the pity Embraced me, and so kiss'd me the To find thine own first love once first time, more — to hold. And gave herself and all her wealth Hold her a wealthy bride within to me. thine arms. Then I remember'd Arthur's warn- Or all but hold, and then — cast ing word, her aside. That most of us would follow wan- Foregoing all her sweetness, like a dering fires, weed. And the Quest faded in my heart. For we that want the warmth of Anon, double life. The heads of all her people drew to We that are plagued with dreams of me, . something sweet With supplication both of knees and Beyond all sweetness in a life so tongue : rich, — 'We have heard of thee: thou art Ah, blessed Lord, I speak too earthlj^- our greatest knight, wise, Our lady says it, and we well be- Seeing I never stray'd beyond the lieve : cell. Wed thou our Lady, and rule over But live like an old badger in his us, earth, And thou shalt be as Arthur in our With earth about him everywhere, land.' despite O me, my brother! but one night my All fast and penance. Saw ye none vow beside, Burnt me within, so that I rose and None of your knights?" But wail'd and wept, and hated mine "Yea so," said Percivale: own self, " One night my pathway swerving And ev'n the Holy Quest, and all east, I saw but her; The pelican on the casque of our Sir Then after I was join'd with Gala- Bors had All in the middle of the rising moon: THE HOLY GRAIL 333 And toward him spurr'd, and hail'd Rode to the lonest tract of all the him, and he me, realm, And each made joy of either; then And found a people there among he ask'd, their crags, 'Where is he? hast thou seen him — Our race and blood, a remnant that Lancelot ? — Once,' were left Said good Sir Bors, ' He dash'd Paynim amid their circles, and the across me — mad, stones And maddening what he rode : and They pitch up straight to heaven : when I cried, and their wise men " Ridest thou then so hotly on a Were strong in that old magic which quest can trace So holy," Lancelot shouted, " Stay The wandering of the stars, and me not! scolf'd at him I have been the sluggard, and I ride And this high Quest as at a simple apace, thing: For now there is a lion in the way." Told him he follow'd — almost So vanish'd.' Arthur's words — A mocking fire: 'What other fire " Then Sir Bors had ridden on -.tti u ^i ' ui j l i i c x^i 1 ■ c T Whereby the blood beats, and the boftly, and sorrowmg for our Lance- ui ki lot. blossom blows. Tj 'u- £ J ^u And the sea rolls, and all the world Joecause his lormer madness, once the • > j d > talk IS warm d? And scandal of our table, had re- turn'd; For Lancelot's kith and kin so wor- ship him That ill to him is ill to them; to Beyond the rest: he well had been l i .1 ' ^'"^ And when his answer chafed them, the rough crowd. Hearing he had a difference with their priests. Seized him, and bound and plunged him into a cell innumerable content Not to have seen, so Lancelot might have seen. The Holy Cup of healing; and, in- deed. Being so clouded with his grief and love, u -^ 1- c u X, ^ u- r. ^u TT 1 rleavy as it was, a great stone siipt bmall heart was his aiter the Holy ri ^^ 11 ' *= ^ bounden there In darkness thro' hours He heard the hollow-ringing heavens sweep Over him till by miracle — what else ? — Quest If God would send the vision, well : ,T>, r^ ' 1 1 • u L J Glimmer'd the streaming scud : then Ihe Quest and he were in the hands ,. -^.i.^ and fell. Such as no wind could move: and thro' the gap of Heaven. came a night Still as the day was loud ; and thro' the gap " And then, with small adventure The seven clear stars of Arthur's' met, Sir Bors Table Round — 334 IDYLLS OF THE KING For, brother, so one night, because they roll Thro' such a round in heaven, we named the stars, Rejoicing in ourselves and in our King — And these, like bright eyes of famil- iar friends, In on him shone : * And then to me, to me,' Said good Sir Bors, ' Beyond all hopes of mine. Who scarce had pray'd or ask'd it for myself — Across the seven clear stars — O grace to me — In color like the fingers of 'a hand Before a burning taper, the sweet Grail Glided and past, and close upon it peal'd A sharp quick thunder.' After- wards, a maid. Who kept our holy faith among her kin In secret, entering, loosed and let him go." To whom the monk: 'And I remember now That pelican on the casque : Sir Bors it was Who spake so low and sadly at our board ; And mighty reverent at our grace was he: A square-set man and honest; and his eyes. An out-door sign of all the warmth within, Smiled with his lips — a smile be- neath a cloud. But heaven had meant it for a sunny one: Aye, aye. Sir Bors, who else? But when ye reach'd The city, found ye all your knights return'd, Or was there sooth in Arthur's prophecy. Tell me, and what said each, and what the King ? " Then answer'd Percivale : " And that can I, Brother, and truly; since the living words Of so great men as Lancelot and our King Pass not from door to door and out again, But sit within the house. O, when we reach'd The city, our horses stumbling as they trode On heaps of ruin, hornless unicorns, Crack'd basilisks, and splinter'd cockatrices. And shatter'd talbots, which had left the stones Raw, that they fell from, brought us to the hall. " And there sat Arthur on the dais-throne. And those that had gone out upon the Quest, Wasted and worn, and but a tithe of them. And. those that had not, stood before the King, Who, when he saw me, rose, and bade me hail, Saying, ' A welfare in thine eye re- proves Our fear of some disastrous chance for thee On hill, or plain, at sea, or flooding ford. So fierce a gale made havoc here of late Among the strange devices of our kings ; Yea, shook this newer, stronger hall of ours, THE HOLY GRAIL 335 And from the statue Merlin molded Until the King espied him, saying for us to him, Half-wrench'd a golden wing; but 'Hail, Bors! if ever loyal man and now — the Quest, true This vision — hast thou seen the Could see it, thou hast seen the Holy Cup, Grail;' and Bors, That Joseph brought of old to Glas- 'Ask me not, for I may not speak. of it: I saw it ; ' and the tears were in his eyes. " Then there remain'd but Lance- lot, for the rest Spake but of sundry perils in the storm ; Perhaps, like him of Cana in Holy Writ, Our Arthur kept his best until the last; " ' Nay, lord,' said Gawain, ' not ' Thou, too, my Lancelot,' ask'd the for such as I. King, ' my friend. Therefore I communed with a Our mightiest, hath this Quest saintly man, avail'd for thee? ' \VTio made me sure the Quest was tonbury ? ' " So when I told him all thyself hast heard, Ambrosius, and my fresii but fixt resolve To pass away into the quiet life, He answer'd not, but, sharply turn- ing, ask'd Of Gawain, ' Gawain, was this Ouest for thee ? ' not for me ; For I was much awearied of the Quest: But found a silk pavilion in a field. And merry maidens in it ; and then this gale Tore my pavilion from the tenting- pin. And blew my merry maidens all about With all discomfort; yea, and but for this, My twelvemonth and a day were pleasant to me.' ** ' Our mightiest ! ' a n s w e r' d Lancelot, with a groan ; ' O King ! ' — and when he paused, methought I spied A dying fire of madness in his eyes — ' O King, my friend, if friend of thine I be. Happier are those that welter in their sin. Swine in the mud, that cannot see for slime. Slime of the ditch : but in me lived a sin So strange, of such a kind, that all of pure, " He ceased ; and Arthur turn'd Noble, and knightly in me twined to whom at first and clung He saw not, for Sir Bors, on enter- Round that one sin, until the whole- ing, push'd some flower Athwart the throng to Lancelot, And poisonous grew together, each caught his hand, as each, Held it, and there, half-hidden by Not to be pluck'd asunder; and him, stood, when thy knights 336 IDYLLS OF THE KING Sware, I sware with them only in And blackening in the sea-foam the hope sway'd a boat, That could I touch or see the Holy Half-swallow'd in it, anchor'd with Grail a chain; They might be pluck'd asunder. And in my madness to myself I said, Then I spake " I will embark and I will lose my- To one most holy saint, who wept self, and said, And in the great sea wash away my That save they could be pluck'd sin." asunder, all I burst the chain, I sprang into the My quest were but in vain ; to boat. whom I vow'd Seven days I drove along the dreary That I would work according as deep, he will'd. And with me drove the moon and all And forth I went, and while I the stars; yearn'd and strove And the wind fell, and on the seventh To tear the twain asunder in my night heart, I heard the shingle grinding in the My madness came upon me as of surge, old, And felt the boat shock earth, and And whipt me into waste fields far looking up, away; Behold, the enchanted towers of Car- There was I beaten down by little bonek, men, A castle like a rock upon a rock. Mean knights, to whom the moving With chasm-like portals open to the of my sword sea, And shadow of my spear had been And steps that met the breaker! enow there was none To scare them from me once; and Stood near it but a lion on each then I came side All in my folly to the naked That kept the entry, and the moon shore, was full. Wide flats, where nothing but coarse Then from the boat I leapt, and up grasses grew ; the stairs. But such a blast, my King, began to There drew my sword. With sud- blow, den-flaring manes :So loud a blast along the shore and Those two great beasts rose upright sea, like a man. Ye could not hear the waters for the Each gript a shoulder, and I stood blast, between ; Tho' heapt in mounds and ridges all And, when I would have smitten the sea them, heard a voice, Drove like a cataract, and all the " Doubt not, go forward ; if thou sand doubt, the beasts Swept like a river, and the clouded Will tear thee piecemeal." Then heavens with violence Were shaken with the motion and The sword was dash'd from out my the sound. hand, and fell. THE HOLY GRAIL 337 And up into the sounding hall I past; But nothing in the sounding hall I sa\v% No bench nor table, painting on the wall Or shield of knight ; only the rounded moon Thro' the tall oriel on the rolling sea. But always in the quiet house I heard, Clear as a lark, high o'er me as a lark, A sweet voice singing in the topmost tower To the eastward : up I climb'd a thousand steps With pain : as in a dream I seem'd to climb For ever: at the last I reach'd a door, A light was in the crannies, and I heard, " Glory and joy and honor to our Lord And to the Holy Vessel of the Grail." Then in my madness I essay'd the door ; It gave; and thro' a stormy glare, a heat As from a seventimes-heated furnace, I, Blasted and burnt, and blinded as I was. With such a fierceness that I swoon 'd away — O, yet methought I saw the Holy Grail, All pall'd in crimson samite, and around Great angels, awful shapes, and wings and eyes. And but for all my madness and my sin, And then my swooning, I had sworn I saw That which I saw ; but what I saw was veil'd And cover'd ; and this Quest was not for me.' " So speaking, and here ceasing, Lancelot left The hall long silent, till Sir Gawain — nay, Brother, I need not tell thee foolish words, — A reckless and irreverent knight was he. Now bolden'd by the silence of his King, — Well, I will tell thee : ' O King, my liege,' he said, ' Hath Gawain fail'd in any quest of thine? When have I stinted stroke in foughten field ? But as for thine, my good friend Per- civale. Thy holy nun and thou have driven men mad. Yea, made our mightiest madder than our least. But by mine eyes and by mine ears I swear, I will be deafer than the blue-eyed cat. And thrice as blind as any noondav owl, To holy virgins in their ecstasies. Henceforward.' Deafer,' said the blameless King, ' Gawain, and blinder unto holy things Hope not to make thyself by idle vows, Being too blind to have desire to see. But if indeed there- came a sign from heaven. Blessed are Bors, Lancelot and Per- civale, 338 IDYLLS OF THE KING For these have seen according to And leaving human wrongs to right their sight. themselves, For every fiery prophet in old times, Cares but to pass into the silent life. And all the sacred madness of the And one hath had the vision face to bard, face, When God made music thro' them, And now his chair desires him here could but speak in vain. His music by the framework and the However they may crown him other- chord ; where. And as ye saw it ye have spoken truth. " ' And some among you held, that if the King "'Nay — but thou errest. Lance- Had seen the sight he would have lot : never yet ., sworn the vow : Could all of true and noble in knight Not easily, seeing that the King and man must guard Twine round one sin, whatever it That which he rules, and is but as might be, the hind With such a closeness, but apart To whom a space of land is given to there grew, plow. Save that he were the swine thou Who may not wander from the allot- spakest of, ted field Some root of knighthood and pure Before his work be done; but, be- nobleness; ing done. Whereto see thou, that it may bear Let visions of the night or of the day its flower. Come, as they will ; and many a time they come, " ' And spake I not too truly, O Until this earth he walks on seems my knights? not earth. Was I too dark a prophet when I This light that strikes his eyeball is said not light. To those who went upon the Holy This air that smites his forehead Is Quest, not air That most of them would follow But vision — yea, his very hand and wandering fires, foot — Lost in the quagmire? — lost to me In moments when he feels he can- and gone, not die. And left me gazing at a barren And knows himself no vision to hlm- board, self. And a lean Order — scarce return'd Nor the high God a vision, nor that a tithe — One And out of those to whom the vision Who rose again : ye have seen what came ye have seen.' My greatest hardly will believe he saw ; " So spake the King : I knew not Another hath beheld It afar off, all he meant." PELLEAS AND ETTARRE PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 339 King Arthur made new knights to fill the gap Left by the Holy Quest; and as he sat In hall at old Caerleon, the high doors Were softly sunder'd, and thro' these a youth, Pelleas, and the sweet smell of the fields Past, and the sunshine came along with him. Almost to falling from his horse; but saw Near him a mound of even-sloping side, Whereon a hundred stately beeches grew, And here and there great hollies under them ; But for a mile all round was open space. And fern and heath: and slowly Pelleas drew To that dim day, then binding his good horse To a tree, cast himself down; and as he lay " Make me thy knight, because I At random looking over the brown know. Sir King, earth All that belongs to knighthood, and Thro' that green-glooming twilight I love." of the grove, Such was his cry: for having heard It seem'd to Pelleas that the fern the King without Had let proclaim a tournament — Burnt as a living fire of emeralds. the prize A golden circlet and a knightly sword. Full fain had Pelleas for his lady won The golden circlet, for himself the sword : And there were those who knew him near the King, And promised for him: and Arthur made him knight. So that his eyes were dazzled look- ing at it. Then o'er it crost the dimness of a cloud Floating, and once the shadow of a bird Flying, and then a fawn; and his eyes closed. And since he loved all maidens, but no maid In special, half-awake he whisper'd. "Where? And this new knight. Sir Pelleas O where? I love thee, tho' I know of the isles — But lately come to his inheritance, And lord of many a barren isle was he — Riding at noon, a day or twain be- fore. Across the forest call'd of Dean, to find Caerleon and the King, had felt the sun Beat like a strong knight on his helm, and reel'd thee not. For fair thou art and pure as Guin- evere, And I .will make thee with my spear and sword As famous — O my Queen, my Guinevere, For I will be thine Arthur when we meet." Suddenly waken'd with a sound of talk 340 IDYLLS OF THE KING And laughter at the limit of the And but for those large eyes, the wood, haunts of scorn, And glancing thro' the hoary boles, She might have seem'd a toy to trifle he saw, with, Strange as to some old prophet And pass and care no more. But might have seem'd while he gazed A vision hovering on a sea of fire. The beauty of her flesh abash'd the Damsels in divers colors like the boy, cloud As tho' it were the beauty of her Of sunset and sunrise, and all of soul : them For as the base man, judging of the On horses, and the horses richly trapt good. Breast-high in that bright line of Puts his own baseness in him by bracken stood : default And all the damsels talk'd con- Of will and nature, so did Pelleas fusedly, lend And one was pointing this way, and All the j^oung beauty of his own soul one that, to hers. Because the way was lost. Believing her; and when she spake to him, And Pelleas rose, Stammer'd, and could not make her And loosed his horse, and led him a reply. to the light. For out of the waste islands had he There she that seem'd the chief come, among them said, Where saving his own sisters he had ^' In happy time behold our pilot- known star! Scarce any but the women of his Youth, we are damsels-errant, and isles, we ride. Rough wives, that laugh'd and Arm'd as ye see, to tilt against the scream'd against the gulls, knights Makers of nets, and living from the There at Caerleon, but have lost our sea. way : To right? to left? straight forward? back again? Then with a slow smile turn'd the Which ? tell us quickly ? " lady round And look'd upon her people; and as Pelleas gazing thought, when " Is Guinevere herself so beauti- A stone is flung into some sleeping ful?" tarn. For large her violet eyes look'd, and The circle widens till it lip the her bloom marge, A rosy dawn kindled in stainless Spread the slow smile thro' all her heavens, company. And round her limbs, mature in Three knights were thereamong; womanhood ; and they too smiled. And slender was her hand and small Scorning him; for the lady was her shape; Ettarre, PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 3+1 And she was a great lady in her And all her damsels too were land. Again she said, " O wild and of the woods, Knowest thou not the fashion of our speech ■* gracious to him, For she was a great lady. And when they reach'd Caerleon, ere they past to lodging, she. Or have the Heavens but given thee ^ , ■ 'i. , , u ^ i r • r ^ Takmg his hand, O the strong a lair race, , , „ , . , Lacking a tongue?" " O damsel," answer'd he. hand," she said, See! look at mine! but wilt thou fight for me, "I woke from dreams; and coming And win me this fine circlet, Pel out of gloom leas, Was dazzled by the sudden light. That I may love thee ? " and crave Pardon : but will ye to Caerleon ? I Then his helpless heart Go likewise: shall I lead you to the Leapt, and he cried, "Aye! wilt thou King?" if I win?" " Lead then," she said ; and thro' the woods they went. And while they rode, the meaning in his eyes, His tenderness of manner, and chaste awe. His broken utterances and bashful- ness. Were all a burthen to her, and in her heart She mutter'd, " I have lighted on a fool. Raw, yet so stale!" But since her mind vv^as bent On hearing, after trumpet blown, her name • And title, " Queen of Beauty," in the lists Cried — and beholding him so strong, she thought That peradventure he will fight for me. And win the circlet : therefore flatter'd him, Being so gracious, that he well-nigh deem'd His wish by hers was echo'd ; and her knights " Aye, that will I," she answer'd, and she laugh'd. And straitly nipt the hand, and flung it from her ; Then glanced askew at those three knights of hers. Till all her ladies laugh'd along with her. "O happy world," thought Pel- leas, " all, meseems. Are happy; I the happiest of them all." Nor slept that night for pleasure in his blood, And green wood-ways, and eyes among the leaves ; Then being on the morrow knighted, sware To love one only. And as he came away, The men who met him rounded on their heels And wonder'd after him, because his face Shone like the countenance of a priest of old Against the flame about a sacrifice 342 IDYLLS OF THE KING Kindled by fire from heaven : so glad With honor : so by that strong hand was he. of his The sword and golden circlet were Then Arthur made vast banquets, achieved. and strange knights From the four winds came in: and Then rang the shout his lady each one sat, loved : the heat Tho' served with choice from air, Of pride and glory fired her face; land, stream, and sea, her eye Oft in mid-banquet measuring with Sparkled ; she caught the circlet from his eyes his lance, His neighbor's make and might: and And there before the people crown'd Pelleas look'd herself: Noble among the noble, for he So for the last time she was gracious dream'd to him. His lady loved him, and he knew himself Then at Caerleon for a space — Loved of the King: and him his new- her look made knight Bright for all others, cloudier on her Worshipt, whose lightest whisper knight — moved him more Linger'd Ettarre : and seeing Pelleas Than all the ranged reasons of the droop, world. Said Guinevere, " We marvel at thee much, Then blush'd and brake the morn- O damsel, wearing this unsunny face ing of the jousts, To him who won thee glory!" And this was call'd " The Tourna- And she said, ment of Youth: " " Had ye not held your Lancelot in For Arthur, loving his young knight, your bower, withheld My Queen, he had not won." His older and his mightier from the Whereat the Queen, lists, As one whose foot is bitten by an That Pelleas might obtain his lady's ant, love. Glanced down upon her, turn'd and According . to her promise, and re- went her way. main Lord of the tourney. And Arthur But after, when her damsels, and had the jousts herself, Down in the flat field by the shore And those three knights all set their of Usk faces home, Holden : the gilded parapets were Sir Pelleas follow'd. She that saw crown'd him cried. With faces, and the great tower fiU'd " Damsels — and yet I should be with eyes shamed to say it — Up to the summit, and the trumpets I cannot bide Sir Baby. Keep him blew. back There all day long Sir Pelleas kept Among yourselves. Would rather the field that we had PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 343 Some rough old knight who knew the Sat by the walls, and no one open'd worldly way, to him. Albeit grizzlier than a bear, to ride And jest with: take him to you, keep And this persistence turn'd her him off, scorn to wrath. And pamper him with papmeat, if ye Then calling her three knights, she will, charged them, "Out! Old milky fables of the wolf and And drive him from the walls." sheep, And out they came, Such as the wholesome mothers tell But Pelleas overthrew them as they their boys. dash'd Nay, should ye try him with a merry Against him one by one; and these one return'd, To find his mettle; good: and if he Ry But still he kept his watch beneath us, the wall. Small matter! let him." This her damsels heard. Thereon her wrath became a hate; And mindful of her small and cruel . and once, hand, A w-eek beyond, while walking on They, closing round him thro' the the walls journey home, With her three knights, she pointed Acted her best, and always from her downward, " Look, side He haunts me — I cannot breathe — Restrain'd him with all manner of besieges me; device, Down ! strike him ! put my hate into So that he could not come to speech your strokes, with her. And drive him from my walls." And when she gain'd her castle, up- And down they went, sprang the bridge, And Pelleas overthrew them one by Down rang the grate of iron thro' one; the groove. And from the tower above him cried And he was left alone in open field. Ettarre, " Bind him and bring him in." " These be the ways of ladies," Pelleas thought, He heard her voice; *' To those who love them, trials of Then let the strong hand, which had our faith. overthrown Yea, let her prove me to the utter- Her minion-knights, by those he most, overthrew For loyal to the uttermost am I." Be bounden straight, and so they So made his moan ; and, darkness brought him in. falling, sought A priory not far off, there lodged, Then when he came before but rose Ettarre, the sight With morning every day, and, moist Of her rich beauty made him at one or dry, glance Full-arm'd upon his charger all day More bondsman in his heart than in long his bonds. 344 IDYLLS OF THE KING Yet with good cheer he spake, Kick'd, he returns: do ye not hate " Behold me, Lady, him, ye? A prisoner, and the vassal of thy Ye know yourselves: how can ye bide will; at peace. And if thou keep me in thy donjon Affronted with his fulsome in- here, nocence ? Content am I so that I see thy face Are ye but creatures of the board and But once a day: for I have sworn bed, my vows. No men to strike? Fall on him all And thou hast given thy promise, and at once, I know And if ye slay him I reck not : if ye That all these pains are trials of my fail, faith. Give ye the slave mine order to be And that thyself, when thou hast seen bound, me strain'd Bind him as heretofore, and bring And sifted to the utmost, wilt at him in : length It may be ye shall slay him in his Yield me thy love and know me for bonds." thy knight." Then she began to rail so bitterly, She spake; and at her will they With all her damsels, he was couch'd their spears, stricken mute; Three against one: and Gawain pass- But when she mock'd his vows and ing by, the great King, Bound upon solitary adventure, saw Lighted on words: "For pity of Low down beneath the shadow of thine own self, those towers Peace, Lady, peace: is he not thine A villainy, three to one: and thro* and mine?" his heart " Thou fool," she said, " I never The fire of honor and all noble deeds heard his voice Flash'd, and he call'd, " I strike upon But long'd to break away. Unbind thy side — him now, The caitiffs!" "Nay," said Pelleas^ And thrust him out of doors; for save " but forbear; he be He needs no aid who doth his lady's Fool to the midmost marrow of his will." bones, He will return no more." And those, her three. So Gawain, looking at the villainy Laugh'd, and unbound, and thrust done, him from the gate. Forbore, but in his heat and eager- ness And after this, a week beyond. Trembled and quiver'd, as the dog, again withheld She call'd them, saying, " There he A moment from the vermin that he watches yet, sees There like a dog before his master's Before him, shivers, ere he springs door! and kills. PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 345 And Pelleas overthrew them, one to A something — was it nobler than three ; myself ? — And they rose up, and bound, and Seem'd my reproach? He is not of brought him in. my kind. Then first her anger, leaving Pelleas, He could not love me, did he know burn'd me well. Full on her knights in many an evil Nay, let him go — and quickly." name And her knights Of craven, weakling, and thrice- Laugh'd not, but thrust him bounden beaten hound : out of door. " Yet, take him, ye that scarce are fit to touch. Forth sprang Gawain, and loosed Far less to bind, your victor, and him from his bonds, thrust him out, And flung them o'er the walls; and And let who will release him from afterward, his bonds. Shaking his hands, as from a lazar's And if he comes again " — there ^he rag, brake short; "Faith of my body," he said, "and And Pelleas answer'd, " Lady, for art thou not — indeed Yea thou art he, whom late our I loved you and I deem'd you beauti- Arthur made ful. Knight of his table; yea and he that I cannot brook to see your beauty won marr'd The circlet? wherefore hast thou so Thro' evil spite: and if ye love me defamed not, Thy brotherhood in me and all the I cannot bear to dream you so for- rest, sworn : As let these caitiffs on thee work their I had liefer ye were worthy of my will?" love. Than to be loved again of you — fare- And Pelleas answer'd, " O, their well ; wills are hers And tho' ye kill my hope, not yet my For whom I won the circlet ; and love, mine, hers. Vex not yourself: ye will not see m.e Thus to be bounden, so to see her more." face, Marr'd tho' it be with spite and mockery now. While thus he spake, she gazed Other than when I found her in the upon the man woods; Of princely bearing, tho' in bonds, And tho' she hath me bounden but in and thought, spite, "Why have I push'd him from me? And all to flout me, when they this man loves, bring me in, If love there be : yet him I loved not. Let me be bounden, I shall see her Why ? face ; I deem'd him fool? yea, so? or that Else must I die thro' mine unhappi- in him ness." 346 IDYLLS OF THE KING And Gavvain answer'd kindly tho' Then Pelleas lent his horse and all in scorn, his arms, " Why, let my lady bind me if she Saving the goodly sword, his prize, will, and took And let my lady beat me if she will: Gawain's, and said, " Betray me not, But an she send her delegate to thrall but help — These fighting hands of mine — Art thou not he whom men call light- Christ kill me then of-love?" But I will slice him handless by the wrist, " Aye," said Gawain, " for women And let my lady sear the stump for be so light." him. Then bounded forward to the castle Howl as he may. But hold me for walls, your friend: And raised a bugle hanging from his Come, ye know nothing: here I neck, pledge my troth. And winded it, and that so music- Yea, by the honor of the Table ally Round, That all the old echoes hidden in the I will be leal to thee and work thy wall work, Rang out like hollow woods at hunt- And tame thy jailing princess to thine ing-tide. hand. Lend me thine horse and arms, and I Up ran a score of. damsels to the will say tower; That I have slain thee. She will let " Avaunt," they cried, " our lady me in loves thee not." To hear the manner of thy fight and But Gawain lifting up his vizor said, fall; "Gawain am I, Gavvain of Arthur's Then, when I come within her court, counsels, then And I have slain this Pelleas whom From prime to vespers will I chant ye hate; thy praise Behold his horse and armor. Open As prowest knight and truest lover, gates, more And I will make you merr3\" Than any have sung thee living, till she long • And down they ran, To have thee back in lusty life Her damsels, crying to their lady, again, " Lo! Not to be bound, save by white bonds Pelleas is dead — he told us — he and warm, that hath Dearer than freedom. Wherefore His horse and armor: will ye let him now thy horse in? And armor: let me go: be com- He slew him! Gawain, Gawain of forted: the court, Give me three da^'S to melt her fancy. Sir Gawain — there he waits below and hope the wall. The third night hence will bring thee Blowing his bugle as who should say news of gold." him na}'." PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 347 And so, leave given, straight on " One rose, a rose to gather by and thro' open door by, Rode Gawain, whom she greeted One rose, a rose, to gather and to courteously. wear, ■"Dead, is it so?" she ask'd. "Aye, No rose but one — what other rose aye," said he, had I? *' And oft in dying cried upon your One rose, my rose ; a rose that will name." not die, — " Pity on him," she answer'd, " a He dies who loves it, — if the worm good knight, be there." But never let me bide one hour at P^^ce. This tender rhyme, and evermore " Aye," thought Gawain, " and you the doubt, be fair enow: "Why lingers Gawain with his But I to your dead man have given golden news?" my troth. So shook him that he could not rest, That whom ye loathe, him will I but rode make you love." Ere midnight to her walls, and bound his horse So those three days, aimless about Hard by the gates. Wide open were the land, the gates. Lost in a doubt, Pelleas wandering And no watch kept ; and in thro' Waited, until the third night brought these he past, a moon And heard but his own steps, and his With promise of large light on woods own heart and ways. Beating, for nothing moved but his own self. Hot was the night and silent; but a And his own shadow. Then he sound crost the court. Of Gawain ever coming, and this And spied not any light in hall or lay — bower, Which Pelleas had heard sung before But saw the postern portal also wide the Queen, Yawning; and up a slope of garden, And seen her sadden listening — all vext his heart, Of roses white and red, and brambles And marr'd his rest — " A worm mixt within the rose." And overgrowing them, went on, and found, " A rose, but one, none other rose Here too, all hush'd below the mel- had I, low moon, A rose, one rose, and this was won- Save that one rivulet from a tiny drous fair, cave One rose, a rose that gladden'd earth Came lightening downward, and so and sky, spilt itself One rose, my rose, that sweeten'd all Among the roses, and was lost again. mine air — I cared not for the thorns ; the thorns Then was he ware of three pa- were there. vilions rear'd 348 IDYLLS OF THE KING Above the bushes, gilden-peakt : in The naked sword athwart their naked one, throats, Red after revel, droned her lurdane There left it, and them sleeping; and knights she lay. Slumbering, and their three squires The circlet of the tourney round her across their feet: brows, In one, their malice on the placid lip And the sword of the tourney across Froz'n by sweet sleep, four of her her throat. damsels lay : And in the third, the circlet of the And forth he past, and mounting jousts on his horse Bound on her brow, were Gawain Stared at her towers that, larger than and Ettarre. themselves In their own darkness, throng'd into Back, as a hand that pushes thro' r^, i >j' .l i ji • i l- , 1 r -I hen crush d the saddle with his rr c J ^ J X 1 1 u thighs, and clench'd lo nnd a nest and feels a snake, he tt-uj j ii )j -ll- J His hands, and madden d with him- drew: ii: j )j r> 1 J I • 1 j: u ^ sell and moan d : Back, as a coward slinks from what T^ -,.1, * V " Would they have risen against me lo cope with, or a traitor proven, or • ^u • u i j u J ^ ' in their blood T» ^ j-j T) 11 • ** At the last day? I might have an- Beaten, did relleas in an utter »j u , swer d them n -,.1, 1,- u J *i, ' *k Even before high God. O towers so Creep with his shadow thro the ^ *= . strong, V •" ; u-' A u A^ ^^^ Huge, solid, would that even while I ringenng at his sword-handle until h t A gaze rj^, . .1 u -J The crack of earthquake shivering 1 here on the castle-bridge once more, ^ , ^ ^ J , , to your base and thought, c iv j u n u u T -11 u 1 J 1 ^u u oplit you, and Hell burst up your I will go back, and slay them where u i ' r fU ]• " harlot roofs ^ * Bellowing, and charr'd you thro' and thro' within, And so went back and seeing them Black as the harlot's heart — hollow yet in sleep as a skull ! Said, " Ye, that so dishallow the holy Let the fierce east scream thro' your sleep, eyelet-holes. Your sleep is death," and drew the And whirl the dust of harlots round sword, and thought, and round "What! slay a sleeping knight? the In dung and nettles! hiss, snake — I King hath bound saw him there — And sworn me to this brotherhood ; " Let the fox bark, let the wolf yell. again. Who yells " Alas that ever a knight should be Here in the still sweet summer night, so false." but I — Then turn'd, and so return'd, and I, the poor Pelleas whom she call'd groaning laid her fool? PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 349 Fool, beast — he, she, or I ? myself And over hard and soft, striking the most fool; sod Beast too, as lacking human wit — From out the soft, the spark from ofE disgraced, the hard, Dishonor'd all for trial of true Rode till the star above the awakening love — sun, Love? we be all alike: only the Beside that tower where Percivale King was cowl'd. Hath made us fools and liars. O Glanced from the rosy forehead of noble vows! the dawn. great and sane and simple race of For so the words were flash'd into his brutes heart That own no lust because they have He knew not whence or wherefore: no law! " O sweet star. For why should I have loved her to Pure on the virgin forehead of the my shame? dawn!" 1 loathe her, as I loved her to my And there he would have wept, but shame. felt his eyes I never loved her, I but lusted for Harder and drier than a fountain her — bed Away — " In summer : thither came the village girls He dash'd the rowel into his And linger'd talking, and they come horse, no more And bounded forth and vanish'd Till the sweet heavens have fill'd it thro' the night. from the heights Again with living waters in the Then she, that felt the cold touch change on her throat. Of seasons: hard his eyes; harder Awaking knew the sword, and turn'd his heart herself Seem'd; but so weary were his To Gawain : " Liar, for thou hast not limbs, that he, slain Gasping, " Of Arthur's hall am I, This Pelleas! here lie stood, and but here, might have slain Here let me rest and die," cast him- Me and thyself." And he that tells self down, the tale And gulf'd his. griefs in inmost sleep; Says that her ever-veering fancy so lay, turn'd Till shaken by a dream, that Gawain To Pelleas, as the one true knight on fired earth. The hall of Merlin, and the morning And only lover; and thro' her love star her life Reel'd in the smoke, brake into flame,., Wasted and pined, desiring him in and fell. vain. But he by wild and way, for half He woke, and being ware of some the night, one nigh. 3SO IDYLLS OF THE KING Sent hands upon him, as to tear him, crying, " False ! and I held thee pure as Guinevere." But Percivale stood near him and replied, " Am I but false as Guinevere is pure? Or art thou mazed with dreams? or being one Of our free-spoken Table hast not heard That Lancelot " — there he check'd himself and paused. Then fared it with Sir Pelleas as with one Who gets a wound in battle, and the sword That made it plunges thro' the wound again, And pricks it deeper: and he shrank and wail'd, ** Is the Queen false? " and Percivale was mute. " Have any of our Round Table held their vows? " And Percivale made answer not a word. "Is the King true?" "The King!" said Percivale. " Why then let men couple at once with wolves. What! art thou mad?" But Pelleas, leaping up. Ran thro' the doors and vaulted on his horse And fled : small pity upon his horse had he, Or on himself, or any, and when he met A cripple, one that held a hand for alms — Hunch'd as he was, and like an old dwarf-elm That turns its back on the salt blast, the boy Paused not, but overrode him, shout- ing, " False, And false with Gawain! " and so left him bruised And batter'd, and fled on, and hill and wood Went ever streaming by him till the gloom. That follows on the turning of the world, Darken'd the common path: he twitch'd the reins. And made his beast that better knew it, swerve Now off it and now on ; but when he saw High up in Heaven the hall that Merlin built. Blackening against the dead-green stripes of even, " Black nest of rats," he groan'd " ye build too high." Not long thereafter from the city gates Issued Sir Lancelot riding airily, Warm with a gracious parting from the Queen, Peace at his heart, and gazing at a star And marveling what it was: on whom the boy. Across the silent seeded meadow- grass Borne, clash'd : and Lancelot, saying, " What name hast thou That ridest here so blindly and so hard?" " No name, no name," he shouted, " a scourge am I To lash the treasons of the Table Round." "Yea, but thy name?" "I have many names," he cried: " I am wrath and shame and hate and evil fame. THE LAST TOURNAMENT 351 And like a poisonous wind I pass to Down on a bench, hard-breathing. blast " Have ye fought? " And blaze the crime of Lancelot and She ask'd of Lancelot. " Aye, my the Queen." Queen," he said. "First over me," said Lancelot, "And thou hast overthrown him?" " shalt thou pass." " Aye, my Queen." " Fight therefore," yell'd the youth, Then she, turning to Pelleas, " O and either knight young knight, Drew back a space, and when they Hath the great heart of knighthood closed, at once in thee fail'd The weary steed of Pelleas flounder- So far thou canst not bide, unfro- ing flung wardly, His rider, who call'd out from the A fall from him?" Then, for he dark field, answer'd not, "Thou art false as Hell: slay me: I "Or hast thou other griefs? If I, have no sword." the Queen, Then Lancelot, " Yea, between thy May help them, loose thy tongue, and lips — and sharp ; let me know." But here will I disedge it by thy But Pelleas lifted up an eye so fierce death." She quail'd ; and he, hissing " I have " Slay then," he shriek'd, " my will is no sword," to be slain," Sprang from the door into the dark. And Lancelot, with his heel upon the The Queen fall'n, Look'd hard upon her lover, he on Rolling his eyes, a moment stood, her: then spake: And each foresaw the dolorous day "Rise, weakling; I am Lancelot; say to be: thy say." And all talk died, as in a grove all song Beneath the shadow of some bird of And Lancelot slowly rode his war- prey; horse back Then a long silence came upon the To Camelot, and Sir Pelleas in brief hall, while And Modred thought, " The time is Caught his unbroken limbs from the hard at hand." dark field. And follow'd to the city. It chanced that both Brake into hall together, worn and THE LAST TOURNAMENT pale. There with her knights and dames Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain was Guinevere. in his mood Full wonderingly she gazed on Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Lancelot Table Round, So soon return'd, and then on Pelleas, At Camelot, high above the yellowing him woods. Who had not greeted her, but cast Danced like a wither'd leaf before the himself hall. 352 IDYLLS OF THE KING And toward him from the hall, with Vext her with plaintive memories of harp in hand, the child: And from the crown thereof a So she, delivering it to Arthur, said, carcanet " Take thou the jewels of this dead Of ruby swaying to and fro, the innocence, prize And make them, an thou wilt, a tour- Of Tristram in the jousts of yester- ney-prize." day, ... Came Tristram, saying, " Why skip To whom the King, " Peace to ye so. Sir Fool?" thine eagle-borne Dead nestling, and this honor after For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding death, once Following thy will! but, O my Far down beneath a winding wall of Queen, I muse rock Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or Heard a child wail. A stump of oak zone half-dead. Those diamonds that I rescued from From roots like some black coil of the tarn, carven snakes. And Lancelot won, methought, for Clutch'd at the crag, and started thee to wear." thro' mid air Bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the "Would rather you had let them tree fall," she cried, Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' " Plunge and be lost — ill-fated as the wind they were. Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag A bitterness to me! — ye look and tree amazed, Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the peril- Not know^'ng they were lost as soon ous nest, as given — This ruby necklace thrice around her Slid from my hands, when I was neck, leaning out And all unscarr'd from beak or talon. Above the river — that unhappy child brought Past in her barge: but rosier luck A maiden babe ; which Arthur pitying will go took. With these rich jewels, seeing that Then gave it to his Queen to rear: they came the Queen Not from the skeleton of a brother- But coldly acquiescing, in her white slayer, arms But the sweet body of a maiden babe. Received, and after loved it tenderly. Perchance — who knows? — the pur- And named it Nestling; so forgot est of thy knights herself May win them for the purest of my A moment, and her cares; till that maids." young life Being smitten in mid heaven with She ended, and the cry of a great mortal cold joust Past from her ; and in time the carca- With trumpet-blowings ran on all the net ways THE LAST TOURNAMENT 353 From Camelot in among the faded Maim'd me and maul'd, and would fields outright have slain, To furthest towers; and everywhere Save that he sware me to a message, the knights saying, Arm'd for a day of glory before the ' Tell thou the King and all his liars. King. that I Have founded my Round Table in But on the hither side of that loud the North, morn And whatsoever his own knights have Into the hall stagger'd, his visage sworn ribb'd My knights have sworn the counter From ear to ear with dogwhip-weals, to it — and say his nose My tower is full of harlots, like his Bridge-broken, one eye out, and one court, hand off. But mine are worthier, seeing they And one with shatter'd fingers dan- profess gling lame, To be none other than themselves — A churl, to whom indignantly the and say King, My knights are all adulterers like his own, " My churl, for whom Christ died, But mine are truer, seeing they pro- what evil beast fess Hath drawn his claws athwart thy To be none other; and say his hour face? or fiend? is come, Man was it who marr'd heaven's im- The heathen are upon him, his long age in thee thus? " lance Broken, and his Excalibur a straw.' " Then, sputtering thro' the hedge of splinter'd teeth. Then Arthur turn'd to Kay the Yet strangers to the tongue, and with seneschal, blunt stump " Take thou my churl, and tend him Pitch-blacken'd sawing the air, said curiously the maim'd churl, Like a king's heir, till all his hurts be whole. " He took them and he drave them The heathen — but that ever-climb- to his tower — ing wave. Some hold he was a table-knight of Hurl'd back again so often in empty thine — foam, A hundred goodly ones — the Red Hath lain for years at rest — and Knight, he — renegades, Lord, I was tending swine, and the Thieves, bandits, leavings of confu- Red Knight sion, whom Brake in upon me and drave them The wholesome realm is purged of to his tower; otherwhere. And when I call'd upon thy name as Friends, thro' your manhood and one your fealty, — now That doest right by gentle and by Make their last head like Satan in churl, the North. 354 IDYLLS OF THE KING My younger knights, new-made, in Or whence the fear lest this my whom your flower realm, uprear'd, Waits to be solid fruit of golden By noble deeds at one with noble deeds, vows, Move with me toward their quell- From flat confusion and brute vio- ing, which achieved, lences. The loneliest ways are safe from Reel back into the beast, and be no shore to shore. more? " But thou, Sir Lancelot, sitting in my place He spoke, and taking all his Enchair'd to-morrow, arbitrate the younger knights, field; Down the slope city rode, and For wherefore shouldst thou care to sharply turn'd mingle with it. North by the gate. In her high Only to yield my Queen her own bower the Queen, again? Working a tapestry, lifted up her Speak, Lancelot, thou art silent: is it head, well?" Watch'd her lord pass, and knew not that she sigh'd. Thereto Sir Lancelot answer'd, Then ran across her memory the " It is well: strange rhyme Yet better if the King abide, and Of bygone Merlin, " Where is he leave who knows? The leading of his younger knights to From the great deep to the great me. deep he goes." Else, for the King has will'd it, it is well." But when the morning of a tour- nament, Then Arthur rose and Lancelot By these in earnest those in mockery follow'd him, call'd And while they stood without the The Tournament of the Dead Inno- doors, the King cepce, Turn'd to him saying, " Is it then so Brake with a wet wind blowing, well ? Lancelot, Or mine the blame that oft I seem Round whose sick head all night, like as he birds of prey, Of whom was written, ' A sound is The words of Arthur flying shriek'd, in his ears ' ? arose, The foot that loiters, bidden go, — And down a streetway hung with the glance folds of pure That only seems half-loyal to com- White samite, and by fountains run- mand, — ning wine, A manner somewhat fall'n from Where children sat in white with cups reverence — of gold, Or have I dream'd the bearing of our Moved to the lists, and there, with knights slow sad steps Tells of a manhood ever less and Ascending, fill'd his double-dragon'd lower? chair. THE LAST TOURNAMENT 355 He glanced and saw the stately But newly-enter'd, taller than the galleries, rest, Dame, damsel, each thro' worship of And armor 'd all in forest green, their Queen whereon White-robed in honor of the stain- There tript a hundred tiny silver less child, deer, And some with scatter'd jewels, like a And wearing but a holly-spray for bank crest, Of maiden snow mingled with sparks With ever-scattering berries, and on of fire. shield He look'd but once, and vail'd his A spear, a harp, a bugle — Tristram eyes again. — late From overseas in Brittany return'd. The sudden trumpet sounded as in And marriage with a princess of that a dream realm, To ears but half-awaked, then one Isolt the White — Sir Tristram of low roll the Woods — Of autumn thunder, and the jousts Whom Lancelot knew, had held began: sometime with pain And ever the wind blew, and yellow- His own against him, and now ing leaf yearn 'd to shake And gloom and gleam, and shower The burthen off his heart in one full and shorn plume shock Went down it. Sighing weariedly. With Tristram ev'n to death: his as one strong hands gript Who sits and gazes on a faded fire, And dinted the gilt dragons right and When all the goodlier guests are past left, away, Until he groan'd for wrath — so Sat their great umpire, looking o'er many of those, the lists. That ware their ladies' colors on the He saw the laws that ruled the tour- casque, nament Drew from before Sir Tristram to Broken, but spake not; once, a the bounds, knight cast down And there with gibes and flickering Before his throne of arbitration mockeries cursed Stood, while he mutter'd, " Craven The dead babe and the follies of the crests! O shame! King; What faith have these in whom they And once the laces of a helmet sware to love? crack'd, The glory of our Round Table is no And show'd him, like a vermin in its more." hole, Modred, a narrow face: anon he So Tristram won, and Lancelot heard gave, the gems. The voice that billow'd round the Not speaking other word than, barriers roar " Hast thou won ? An ocean-sounding welcome to one Art thou the purest, brother? See, knight, the hand 3s6 IDYLLS OF THE KING Wherewith thou takest this, is red ! " But under her black brows a swarthy to whom one Tristram, half plagued by Lancelot's Laugh'd shrilly, crying, " Praise the languorous mood, patient saints, Made answer, " Aye, but wherefore Our one white day of Innocence hath toss me this past. Like a dry bone cast to some hungry Tho' somewhat draggled at the skirt. hound? So be it. Let be thy fair Queen's fantasy. The snowdrop only, flowering thro' Strength of heart the year. And might of limb, but mainly use Would make the world as blank as and skill. Winter-tide. Are winners in this pastime of our Come — let us gladden their sad eyes. King. our Queen's My hand — belike the lance hath And Lancelot's, at this night's so- dript upon it — lemnity No blood of mine, I trow; but O With all the kindlier colors of the chief knight, field." Right arm of Arthur in the battle- field. Great brother, thou nor I have made So dame and damsel glitter'd at the the world ; feast Be happy in thy fair Queen as I in Variously gay: for he that tells the mine." tale Liken'd them, saying, as when an And Tristram round the gallery hour of cold made his horse Falls on the mountain in midsummer Caracole; then bow'd his homage, snows, bluntly saying, And all the purple slopes of mountain " Fair damsels, each to him who wor- flowers ships each Pass under white, till the warm hour Sole Queen of Beauty and of love, be- returns hold With veer of wind, and all are flow- This day my Queen of Beauty is not ers again; here." So dame and damsel cast the simple And most of these were mute, some white, anger'd, one And glowing in all colors, the live Murmuring, " All courtesy is dead," grass, and one, Rose-campion, bluebell, kingcup, " The glory of our Round Table is poppy, glanced no more." About the revels, and with mirth so loud Then fell thick rain, plume droopt Beyond all use, that, half-amazed, the and mantle clung, Queen, And pettish cries awoke, and the wan And wroth at Tristram and the law- day less jousts. Went glooming down in wet and Brake up their sports, then slowly to weariness: her bower THE LAST TOURNAMENT 357 Parted, and in her bosom pain was For when thou playest that air with lord. Queen Isolt, Thou makest broken music with thy bride, And little Dagonet on the morrow Her daintier namesake down in Brit- morn, tany — High over all the yellowing Autumn- And so thou breakest Arthur's music, tide, too." Danced like a wither'd leaf before the " Save for that broken music in thy hall. brains, Then Tristram saying, " Why skip Sir Fool," said Tristram, " I would }'e so, Sir Fool? " break thy head. Wheel'd round on either heel, Dag- Fool, I came late, the heathen wars onet replied, were o er. "Belike for lack of wiser company; The life had flown, we sware but by Or being fool, and seeing too much 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 barken if my music be not true. wit Makes the world rotten, why, belike I skip To know myself the wisest knight of all." " Aye, fool," said Tristram, " but 'tis eating dry To dance without a catch, a rounde- lay To dance to." Then he twangled on his harp. And while he twangled little Dag- onet stood Quiet as any water-sodden log Stay'd in the wandering warble of a New leaf, new life — the days of frost brook; are o'er: But when the twangling ended, skipt New life, new love, to suit the newer again ; day : And being ask'd, " Why skipt ye not. New loves are sweet as those that Sir Fool ? " went before : Made answer, " I had liefer twenty Free love — free field — we love but " ' 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 : years Skip to the broken music of my brains Than any broken music thou canst make." Then Tristram, waiting for the quip to come, " Good now, what music have I broken, fool ? " And little Dagonet, skipping, " Ar- thur, the King's; while we may. " Ye might have moved slow-meas- ure to my tune. Not stood stockstill. I made it in the woods. And heard it ring as true as tested gold." But Dagonet with one foot poised in his hand. 358 IDYLLS OF THE KING " 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 — And them that round it sat with golden cups To hand the wine to whosoever came — The twelve small damsels 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 there- upon I drank. Spat — pish — the cup was gold, the draught was mud." And Tristram, " Was it muddier than thy gibes? Is all the laughter gone dead out of thee ? — Not marking how the knighthood mock thee, fool — * Fear God : honor the King — his one 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 all free fool from out thy heart; 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'd, then I wash'd — I have had my day and my philoso- phies — And thank the Lord I am King Ar- thur'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 That he could harp his wife up out of hell." Then Dagonet, turning on the ball of his foot, "And whither harp'st thou thine? down ! and thyself Down! and two more: a helpful harper thou, THE LAST TOURNAMENT 359 That harpest downward ! Dost thou " Aye, aye, my brother fool, the king know the star of fools! We call the harp of Arthur up in Conceits himself as God that he can heaven? " And Tristram, " Aye, Sir Fool, for when our King Was victor well-nigh day by day, the knights. Glorying in each new glory, set his name High on all hills, and in the signs of heaven." make Figs out of thistles, silk from bristles, 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 ave- nues ^"1?T„'^AT'''^' "^^'' ^"^ And solitary passes of the wood Rode Tristram toward Lyonnesse 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 cour- tesy. Or King by right — and so went harping down The black king's highway, got so far, and grew So witty that ye play'd at ducks and drakes With Arthur's vows on the great lake of fire. Tuwhoo! do ye see it? do ye see the star? " the west. Before him fled the face of Queen Isolt With ruby-circled neck, but ever- more Past, as a rustle or twitter in the wood Made dull his inner, keen his outer eye For all that walk'd, or crept, or perch'd, or flew. Anon the face, as, when a gust hath blown, Unruffling waters re-collect the shape Of one that in them sees himself, re- turn'd; " Nay, fool," said Tristram, " not But at the slot or fewmets of a deer, in open day." Or ev'n a fall'n feather, vanish'd And Dagonet, " Nay, nor will: I see again. it and hear. It makes a silent music up in So on for all that day from lawn to heaven, lawn And I, and Arthur and the angels Thro' many a league-long bower he hear, rode. At length And then we skip." " Lo, fool," he A lodge of intertwisted beechen- said, " ye talk boughs Fool's treason: is the King thy Furze-cramm'd, and bracken-rooft, brother fool?" the which himself Then little Dagonet clapt his hands Built for a summer day with Queen and shrill'd, Isolt 36o IDYLLS OF THE KING Against a shower, dark in the golden But left her all as easily, and re- grove turn'd. Appearing, sent his fancy back to The black-blue Irish hair and Irish where eyes She lived a moon in that low lodge Had drawn him home — what with him : marvel ? then he laid Till Mark her lord had past, the Cor- His brows upon the drifted leaf and nish King, dream'd. With six or seven, when Tristram was away. ,11- He seem'd to pace the strand of And snatch d her thence ; yet dreading t? „, , . ' ■' " Brittany worse than shame t>. tu i v> -^ • ju- TT . ,-j^ . , ^ Between Isolt of Britain and his Her warrior 1 ristram, spake not any , . , T» TT L- 1- J • • . u J And show'd them both the ruby- But bode his hour, devising wretched- , . j u »u ' ^ chain, and both "^^^* Began to struggle for it, till his Queen .J . J ^ 1 J * Graspt it so hard, that all her hand And now that desert lodge to .a rj^ • 1 1 * was reQ. p 1 u 1^- • u ^ J Then cried the Breton, " Look, her So sweet, that halting, in he past, and h d ' d ' T^ 1 •/■^ f f 1- J These be no rubies, this is frozen Down on a drift of foliage random- , , , Ti 1 J ' r • u * And melts within her hand — her But could not rest for musing how to u j • u ^ , ^ hand is hot .,,,,. . ^ ^u With ill desires, but this I gave thee. And sleek his marriage over to the , , ' " ^ "^ look, Tj L -1 T-- ^ -1 r r Is all as cool and white as any Perchance in lone 1 intagil far from n » all '^'^^' rr^, ^ ^ r , ^uuj Follow'd a rush of eagle's wings, and The tonguesters of the court she had , & t. » not heard. » , . . r . • v x -u ■D^^u u^rii uj ^1,- A whimpering of the spirit of the But then what folly had sent him h']^ . f ^ . 1 f^ 1 • 1 1 u ■> Because the twain had spoil'd her car- After she left him lonely here: a ^ ^ o canet. name r Was it the name of one in Brittany, Isolt, the daughter of the King? He dream'd; but Arthur with a " Isolt hundred spears Of the white hands " they call'd her : Rode far, till o'er the illimitable reed, the sweet name And many a glancing plash and sal- Allured him first, and then the maid lowy isle, herself. The wide-wing'd sunset of the misty Who served him well with those marsh white hands of hers. Glared on a huge machicolated tower And loved him well, until himself had That stood with open doors, where- thought out was roll'd He loved her also, wedded easily, A roar of riot, as from men secure THE LAST TOURNAMENT 361 Amid their marshes, ruffians at their Sware by the scorpion-worm that ease twists in hell, Among their harlot-brides, an evil And stings itself to everlasting death. 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 there beside a horn, inflamed the knights At that dishonor done the gilded spur, 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 aloft 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 armor, 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-worshiper? Yea, God's curse, and I ! Slain was the brother of my para- mour By a knight of thine, and I that heard her whine And snivel, being eunuch-hearted, too 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 Well-nigh was helmet-hidden, and the name Went wandering somewhere darkling in his mind. 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-arch- ing wave. Heard in dead night along that table- shore. Drops flat, and after 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; then the knights, who watch 'd him, roar'd And shouted and leapt down upon the fall'n ; There trampled out his face from be- ing 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 362 IDYLLS OF THE KING The tables over and the wines, and I know not what I would " — but slew said to her, Till all the rafters rang with woman- " Yet weep not thou, lest, if thy mate yells, return. And all the pavement stream'd with He find thy favor changed and love massacre; thee not " — Then, echoing yell with yell, they Then pressing day by day thro' Lyon- fired the tower, nesse Which half that autumn night, like Last in a roky hollow, belling, heard the live North, The hounds of Mark, and felt the Red-pulsing up thro' Alioth and goodly hounds Alcor, Yelp at his heart, but turning, past Made all above it, and a hundred and gain'd meres Tintagil, half in sea, and high on About it, as the water Moab saw land, Come round by. the East, and out be- A crown of towers. yond them flush'd The long low dune, and lazy-plun- Down in a casement sat, ging sea. A low sea-sunset glorying round her hair c^ 11 *u I i And glossy-throated grace, Isolt the bo all the ways were safe from A & > h t sh Cjueen. B^ • ^1 1 .. i A ^i • And when she heard the feet of Tris- ut in the heart of Arthur pam was . , 1 1 tram grmd The spiring stone that scaled about her tower, Then, out of Tristram waking, the Flush'd, started, met him at the red dream doors, and there Fled with a shout, and that low lodge Belted his body with her white em- return'd, brace. Mid-forest, and the wind among the Crying aloud, " Not Mark — not boughs. Mark, my soul ! He whistled his good warhorse left to The footstep flutter'd me at first : not graze he : Among the forest greens, vaulted Catlike thro' his own castle steals my upon him, Mark, And rode beneath an ever-showering But warrior-wise thou stridest thro' leaf, his halls Till one lone woman, weeping near a Who hates thee, as I him — ev'n to cross, the death. Stay'd him. "Why weep ye?" My soul, I felt my hatred for my " Lord," she said, " my man Mark Hath left me or is dead;" whereon Quicken within me, and knew that he thought — thou wert nigh." "What, if she hate me now? I To whom Sir Tristram smiling, "I would not this. am here. What, if she love me still? I would Let be thy Mark, seeing he is not not that. thine." THE LAST TOURNAMENT 363 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 harken ! have ye met him ? hence he went To-day for three days' hunting — as he said — And so returns belike within an hour. Mark's way, my soul ! — but eat not thou with Mark, Because he hates thee even more than fears ; Nor drink: and when thou passest any wood Close vizor, 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, " 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 villainously: but, O Sir Knight, What dame or damsel have ye kneel'd to last? " And Tristram, " Last to my Queen Paramount, Here now to my Queen Paramount of love And loveliness — aye, lovelier than when first Her light feet fell on our rough Lyon- nesse. Sailing from Ireland." Softly laugh'd 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, gra- cious, kind — Save when thy Mark is kindled on thy lips Most gracious ; but she, haughty, ev'n 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 say- ing to me That Guinevere had sinn'd against the highest. jreet me — fear And fault and doubt — no word of that fond tale — 364 IDYLLS OF THE KING And I — misyoked with such a want Than having known thee? her, too, of man — hast thou left That I could hardly sin against the To pine and waste in those sweet lowest." memories. O were I not my Mark's, by whom Tj 'J " /^ 1 u 3II r"^" He answer d, U my soul, be com- . , , t u u 1, * *u J- J , ' ■' ' Are noble, 1 should hate thee more forted! ,, , ,, f f ^, . u ^ . • • 1 J- than love. If this be sweet, to sm m leadmg- y,, 'if J -L u- And Tristram, fondling her light If here be comfort, and if ours be sin, u j i- j /■^ ,j . u J J. *u hands, replied, Crown d warrant had we for the ^/^ A i u ■ 1 ju Grace, Oueen, for being loved : she crowning sin 1 j n AT-1 11 1 u loved me well. Ihat made us happy: but how ye t-^., j , u ■> ^u .. 1 .. t , ^^^ •' Did 1 love her.'^ the name at least i loved. Isolt? — I fought his battles, for Thy deep heart-yearnings, thy sweet rj., • , / j 1 ^u ,. * o^* •^ ^ . ^ b ) J ^^^ night was dark : the true star set. memories Tsnlf' Of Tristram in that year he was ^j^^ ^^^; ^^,^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^_ ^^^y- Isolt? Care not for her ! patient, and prayer- And, saddening on the sudden, ful, meek, spake Isolt, Pale-blooded, she will yield herself to I had forgotten all in my strong joy God." To see thee — j'earnings ? — aye ! for, hour by hour, And Isolt answer'd, " Yea, and Here in the never-ended afternoon, why not I ? O sweeter than all memories of thee. Mine is the larger need, who am not Deeper than any yearnings after thee meek, Seem'd those far-rolling, westward- Pale-blooded, prayerful. Let me tell smiling seas, thee now. Watch'd from this tower. Isolt of Here one black, mute midsummer Britain dash'd night I sat, Before Isolt of Brittany on the Lonely, but musing on thee, wonder- strand, ing where, Would that have chill'd her bride- Murmuring a light song I had heard kiss? Wedded her? thee sing. Fought in her father's battles? And once or twice I spake thy name wounded there? aloud. The King was all fulfiU'd with grate- Then flash'd a levin-brand ; and near fulness, me stood, And she, my namesake of the hands, In fuming sulphur blue and green, a that heal'd fiend — Thy hurt and heart with unguent and Mark's way to steal behind one in the caress — dark — Well — can I wish her any huger For there was Mark: * He has wed- wrong ded her,' he said. THE LAST TOURNAMENT 365 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 swoon'd 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 le- man'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 an- gered her. " ' May God be with thee, sw^eet, when thou art old, And sweet no more to me! ' I need Him now. For when had Lancelot utter'd aught so gross Ev'n to the sw-ineherd's malkin in the mast? The greater man, the greater cour- tesy. Far other was the Tristram, Arthur's knight ! 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 awaj^, Her to be loved no more ? Unsay it, unswear ! Flatter me rather, seeing me so weak. Broken with Mark and hate and soli- tude. Thy marriage and mine own, that I should suck Lies like sweet wines: lie to me: I believe. Will ye not lie? not swear, as there ye kneel, And solemnly as when ye sware to him. The man of men, our King — My God, the power Was once in vows when men believed the King! They lied not then, who sware, and thro' their vows The King prevailing made his realm : — I say, Swear to me thou wilt love me ev'n when old, Gray-hair'd, and past desire, and in despair." Then Tristram, pacing moodily up and down, "Vows! did you keep the vow you 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 — aye, being snapt — We run more counter to the soul thereof Than had we never sworn. 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 Lyonnesse, and beheld That victor of the Pagan throned in hall — His hair, a sun that ray'd from off a brow Like hill-snow high in heaven, the steel-blue eyes, 366 IDYLLS OF THE KING The golden beard that clothed his lips Pulsing full man ; can Arthur make with light — me pure Moreover, that weird legend of his As any maiden child? lock up my birth, tongue With Merlin's mystic babble about From uttering freely what I freely his end hear? Amazed me; then, his foot was on a Bind me to one? The wide world stool laughs at it. Shaped as a dragon ; he seem'd to me And worldling of the world am I, no man, and know But Michael trampling Satan; so I The ptarmigan that whitens ere his sware, hour Being amazed: but this went by — Woos his own end; we are not angels The vows! here O aye — the wholesome madness of an Nor shall be : vows — I am woodman hour — of the woods, They served their use, their time; And hear the garnet-headed yaffin- for every knight gale Believed himself a greater than him- Mock them: my soul, we love but self, while we may ; And every follower eyed him as a And therefore is my love so large for God ; thee, Till he, being lifted up beyond him- Seeing it is not bounded save by self, love." Did mightier deeds than elsewise he had done. Here ending, he moved toward her, And so the realm was made; but then and she said, their vows — " Good : an I turn'd away my love for First mainly thro' that sullying of our thee Queen — To someone thrice as courteous as Began to gall the knighthood, asking thyself — whence For courtesy wins woman all as well Had Arthur right to bind them to As valor may, but he that closes both himself? Is perfect, he is Lancelot — taller Dropt down from heaven? wash'd up indeed, from out the deep? Rosier and comelier, thou — but say They fail'd to trace him thro' the I loved flesh and blood This knightliest of all knights, and Of our old kings: whence then? a cast thee back doubtful lord Thine own small saw, * We love but To bind them by inviolable while we may,' vows. Well, then, what answer?" Which flesh and blood perforce would violate: He that while she spake, For feel this arm of mine — the tide Mindful of what he brought to adorn within her with. Red with free chase and heather- The jewels, had let one finger lightly scented air, touch THE LAST TOURNAMENT 367 The warm white apple of her throat, replied, " Press this a little closer, sweet, un- til — Come, I am hunger'd and half-an- ger'd — meat. Wine, wine — and I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come." Then in the light's last glimmer Tristram show'd And swung the ruby carcanet. She cried, " The collar of some Order, which our King Hath newly founded, all for thee, my soul. For thee, to yield thee grace beyond thy peers." 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 para- dise. The deer, the dews, the fern, the founts, the lawns; Now mocking at the much ungainli- ness, And craven shifts, and long crane legs of Mark — Then Tristram laughing caught the harp, and sang : " Aye, aye, O aye — the winds that bend the brier! A star in heaven, a star within the mere! Aye, aye, O aye — a star was my de- sire, And one was far apart, and one was near: Aye, aye, O aye — the winds that bow the grass! And one was water and one star was fire. And one will ever shme and one will pass. Aye, aye, O aye — the winds that move the mere." " 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 spoke, he turn'd, then, fling- ing round her neck, Claspt it, and cried, " Thine Order, O my Queen! " But, while he bow'd to kiss the jew- el'd throat, Out of the dark, just as the lips had touch'd, 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. 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 ques- tion'd it, "What art thou?" and the voice about his feet 368 IDYLLS OF THE KING Sent up an answer, sobbing, " I am For thus it chanced one morn when thy fool, all the court, And I shall never make thee smile Green-suited, but with plumes that again." mock'd the may, Had been, their wot, a-maying and return'd, GUINEVERE That Modred still in green, all ear and eye. Queen Guinevere had fled the Climb'd to the high top of the gar- court, and sat den-wall There in the holy house at Almes- To spy some secret scandal if he bury might. Weeping, none with her save a little And saw the Queen who sat betwixt maid, her best A novice : one low light betwixt them Enid, and lissome Vivien, of her burn'd court Blurr'd by the creeping mist, for all The wiliest and the worst; and more aboard, than this Beneath a moon unseen albeit at full, He saw not, for Sir Lancelot passing The white mist, like a face-cloth to by the face, Spied where he couch'd, and as the Clung to the dead earth, and the gardener's hand land was still. Picks from the colewort a green cater- pillar, For hither had she fled, her cause So from the high wall and the flower- of flight ing grove Sir Modred; he that like a subtle Of grasses Lancelot pluck'd him by beast the heel. Lay couchant with his eyes upon the And cast him as a worm upon the throne, way ; Ready to spring, waiting a chance: But when he knew the Prince tho' for this marr'd with dust, He chill'd the popular praises of the He, reverencing king's blood in a King bad man. With silent smiles of slow disparage- Made such excuses as he might, and ment; these And tamper'd with the Lords of the Full knightly without scorn; for in White Horse, those days Heathen, the brood by Hengist left; No knight of Arthur's noblest dealt and sought in scorn; To make disruption in the Table But, if a man were halt or hunch'd. Round in him Of Arthur, and to splinter it into By those whom God had made full- feuds limb'd and tall, Servmg his traitorous end; and all Scorn was allow'd as part of his de- his aims feet. Were sharpen'd by strong hate for And he was answer'd softly by the Lancelot. King I SHALL NBVER MAKS THEE SMILE AGAIN' " — Page 368 GUINEVERE 369 And all his Table. So Sir Lancelot In the dead night, grim faces came holp and went To raise the Prince, who rising twice Before her, or a vague spiritual or thrice fear — Full sharply smote his knees, and Like to some doubtful noise of creak- smiled, and went: ing doors. But, ever after, the small violence Heard by the watcher in a haunted done house. Rankled in him and ruffled all his That keeps the rust of murder on the heart, walls — As the sharp wind that ruffles all day Held her awake: or if she slept she long dream'd A little bitter pool about a stone An awful dream; for then she seem'd On the bare coast. to stand On some vast plain before a setting sun. But when Sir Lancelot told And from the sun there swiftly made This matter to the Queen, at first she at her laugh'd A ghastly something, and its shadow Lightly, to think of Modred's dusty flew fall. Before it, till it touch'd her, and she Then shudder'd as the village wife turn'd — who cries When lo! her own, that broadening " I shudder, some one steps across my from her feet, grave;" And blackening, swallow'd all the Then laugh'd again, but faintlier, for land, and in it indeed Far cities burnt, and with a cry she She half-foresaw that he, the subtle woke. beast. And all this trouble did not pass but Would track her guilt until he found, grew; and hers Till ev'n the clear face of the guileless Would be for evermore a name of King, scorn. And trustful courtesies of household Henceforward rarely could she front life, in hall. Became her bane; and at the last she Or elsewhere, Modred's narrow foxy said, face, " O Lancelot, get thee hence to thine Heart-hiding smile, and gray persist- own land, ent eye: For if thou tarry we shall meet Henceforward too, the Powers that again, tend the soul. And if we meet again, some evil To help it from the death that cannot chance die. Will make the smoldering scandal And save it even in extremes, began break and blaze To vex and plague her. Many a Before the people, and our lord the time for hours, King." Beside the placid breathings of the And Lancelot ever promised, but re- King, main'd, 370 IDYLLS OF THE KING And still they met and met. Again she said, " O Lancelot, if thou love me get thee hence." And then the)^ were agreed upon a night (When the good King should not be there) to meet And part for ever. Vivien, lurking, heard. She told Sir Modred. Passion-pale they met And greeted. Hands in hands, and eye to eye Low on the border of her couch they sat Stammering and staring. It was their last hour, A madness of farewells. And Mod- red brought His creatures to the basement of the tower For testimony; and crying with full voice " Traitor, come out, ye are trapt at last," aroused Lancelot, who rushing outward lion- like Leapt on him, and hurl'd him head- long, and he fell Stunn'd, and his creatures took and bare him off. And all was still : then she, " The end is come. And I am shamed for ever; " and he said, "Mine be the shame; mine was the sin : but rise, And fly to my strong castle over- seas: There will I hide thee, till my life shall end. There hold thee with my life against the world." She answer'd, " Lancelot, wilt thou hold me so? Nay, friend, for we have taken our farewells. Would God that thou couldst hide me from myself! Mine is the shame, for I was wife, and thou Unwedded: yet rise now, and let us For I will draw me into sanctuary, And bide my doom." So Lancelot got her horse. Set her thereon, and mounted on his own, And then they rode to the divided way, ^ There kiss'd, and parted weeping: for he past. Love-loyal to the least wish of the Queen, Back to his land ; but she to Almes- bury Fled all night long by glimmering waste and weald. And heard the Spirits of the waste and weald Moan as she fled, or thought she heard them moan : And in herself she moan'd " Too late, too late ! " Till in the cold wind that foreruns the morn, A blot in heaven, the Raven, flying high, Croak'd, and she thought, " He spies a field of death ; For now the Heathen of the North- ern Sea, Lured by the crimes and frailties of the court. Begin to slay the folk, and spoil the land." And when she came to Almesbury she spake There to the nuns, and said, " Mine enemies Pursue me, but, O peaceful Sister- hood, Receive, and yield me sanctuary, nor ask GUINEVERE 371 Her name to whom ye yield it, till Whereat full willingly sang the little her time ^^ niaid. To tell you : " and her beauty, grace and power, Wrought as a cliarm upon them, and they spared To ask it. So the stately Queen abode For many a week, unknown, among the nuns; " Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. " No light had we : for that we do repent ; ni Nor with them mix'd, nor told her And learning this, the bridegroo name, nor sought, will relent. Wrapt in her grief, for house! or for Too late, too late! ye cannot enter shrift, now. But communed only with the little maid, Who pleased her with a babbling heedlessness " No light : so late ! and dark and chill the night! now. wTu- u i. 1 J u j: u u O let us in, that we may find the Which often lured her from herself; IiVht' T-, . . , , ' .,,, ,, Too late, too late: ye cannot enter 1 his night, a rumor wildly blown about Came, that Sir Modred had usurp'd the realm, And leagued him with the heathen, while the King " Have we not heard the bride- groom is so sweet ? O let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet! Was waging Var 'on Lancelot: then N°' _"°: ,^°" ^^^^' V^ '^^""^^ e"^«^^ she thought. " With what a hate the people and the King Must hate me," and bow'd down upon her hands Silent, until the little maid, who brook'd No silence, brake it, uttering " Late ! so late! What hour, I wonder, now?" and when she drew No answer, by and by began to hum An air the nuns had taught her; " Late, so late! " Which when she heard, the Queen look'd up, and said, O maiden, if indeed ye list to sing. So sang the novice, while full pas- sionately, Her head upon her hands, remember- ing Her thought when first she came, wept the sad Queen. Then said the little novice prattling to her, " O pray j^ou, noble lady, weep no more ; But let my words, the words of one so small, Who knowing nothing knows but to obey, Sing, and unbind my heart that I may And if I do not there is penance weep," given — 372 IDYLLS OF THE KING Comfort your sorrows; for they do not flow From evil done; right sure am I of that, Who see your tender grace and state- liness. But weigh your sorrows with our lord the King's, And weighing find them less; for gone is he To wage grim war against Sir Lance- lot there, Round that strong castle where he holds the Queen ; And Modred whom he left in charge of all, The traitor — Ah sweet lady, the King's grief For his own self, and his own Queen, and realm, Must needs be thrice as great as any of ours. For me, I thank the saints, I am not great. For if there ever come a grief to me I cry my cry in silence, and have done. None knows it, and my tears have brought me good : But even were the griefs of little ones As great as those of great ones, yet this grief Is added to the griefs the great must bear. That howsoever much they may de- sire Silence, they cannot weep behind a cloud : As even here they talk at Almesbury About the good King and his wicked Queen, And were I such a King with such a Queen, Well might I wish to veil her wicked- ness. But were I such a King, it could not be." Then to her own sad heart mut- ter'd the Queen, " Will the child kill me with her in- nocent talk? " But openly she answer'd, " Must not ?' . . . If this false traitor have displaced his lord. Grieve with the common grief of all the realm ? " " Yea," said the maid, " this is all woman's grief. That she is woman, whose disloyal life Hath wrought confusion in the Table Round Which good King Arthur founded, years ago. With signs and miracles and wond- ers, there At Camelot, ere the coming of the Queen." Then thought the Queen within herself again, " Will the child kill me with her fool- ish prate? " But openly she spake and said to her, " O little maid, shut in by nunnery walls. What canst thou know of King and Tables Round, Or what of signs and wonders, but the signs And simple miracles of thy nun- nery?" To whom the little novice garru- lously, " Yea, but I know: the land was full of signs And wonders ere the coming of the Queen. So said my father, and himself was knight GUINEVERE 373 Of the great Table — at the founding Flying, for all the land was full of of it; life. And rode thereto from Lyonnesse, And when at last he came to Came- and he said lot, That as he rode, an hour or maybe A wreath of airy dancers hand-in- twain hand After the sunset, down the coast, he Swung round the lighted lantern of heard the hall ; Strange music, and he paused, and And in the hall itself was such a feast turning — there, As never man had dream'd; for every AH down the lonely coast of Lyon- knight nesse. Each with a beacon-star upon his head, And with a wild sea-light about his feet, He saw them — headland after head- land flame Far on into the rich heart of the west: And in the light the white mer- maiden swam, And strong man-breasted things stood from the sea, And sent a deep sea-voice thro' all the land, To which the little elves of chasm and cleft Had whatsoever meat he long'd for served By hands unseen ; and even as he said Down in the cellars merry bloated things Shoulder'd the spigot, straddling on the butts While the wine ran: so glad were spirits and men Before the coming of the sinful Queen." Then spake the Queen and some- what bitterly, " Were they so glad ? ill prophets Made answer, sounding like a distant o • • 111 i- 1. 1 bpirits and men: could none or them horn So said my father — yea, and further- more. Next morning, while he past the dim- lit woods, Himself beheld three spirits mad with joy Come dashing down on a tall wayside flower, foresee, Not even thy wise father with his signs And wonders, what has fall'n upon the realm? " To whom the novice garrulously again. That shook beneath them, as the this- " Yea, one, a bard ; of whom my fa- tle shakes ther said. When three gray linnets wrangle for Full many a noble war-song had he the seed: sung, And still at evenings on before his Ev'n in the presence of an enemy's horse fleet, T'he flickering fairy-circle wheel'd Between the steep cliff and the com- and broke ing wave ; Tlying, and link'd again, and wheel'd And many a mystic lay of life and and broke death 374 IDYLLS OF THE KING Had chanted on the smoky mountain- tops, When round him bent the spirits of the hills With all their dewy hair blown back like flame: So said my father — and that night the bard Sang Arthur's glorious wars, and sang the King As well-nigh more than man, and rail'd at those •Who call'd him the false son of Gor- lois : For there was no man knew from whence he came; But after tempest, when the long wave broke All down the thundering shores of Bude and Bos, There came a day as still as heaven, and then They found a naked child upon the sands Of dark Tintagil by the Cornish sea; And that was Arthur; and they fos- ter'd him Till he by miracle was approven King: _ And that his grave should be a mys- tery From all men, like his birth; and could he find A woman in her womanhood as great As he was in his manhood, then, he sang, _ The twain together well might change the world. But even in the middle of his song He falter'd, and his hand fell from the harp, And pale he turn'd, and reel'd, and would have fall'n, But that they stay'd him up ; nor would he tell His vision ; but what doubt that he foresaw This evil work of Lancelot and the Queen?" Then thought the Queen, " Lo 1 they have set her on. Our simple-seeming Abbess and her nuns, To play upon me," and bow'd her head nor spake. Whereat the novice crying, with clasp'd hands. Shame on her own garrulity garru- lously. Said the good nuns would check her gadding tongue Full often, " and, sweet lady, if I seem To vex an ear too sad to listen to me. Unmannerly, with prattling and the tales Which my good father told me, check me too Nor let me shame my father's mem- ory, one Of noblest manners, tho' himself would say Sir Lancelot had the noblest; and he died, Kill'd in a tilt, come next, five sum- mers back. And left me; but of others who re- main, And of the two first-famed for cour- tesy — And pray you check me if I ask amiss — But pray you, which had noblest, while you moved Among them, Lancelot or our lord the King?" Then the pale Queen look'd up and answer'd her, " Sir Lancelot, as became a noble knight, Was gracious to all ladies, and the same GUINEVERE 375 In open battle or the tilting-field So she, like many another babbler, Forbore his own advantage, and the hurt King Whom she would soothe, and harm'd In open battle or the tilting-field where she would heal ; Forbore his own advantage, and these For here a sudden flush of wrathful two heat Were the most nobly-manner'd men Fired all the pale face of the Queen, of all ; who cried, For manners are not idle, but the " Such as thou art be never maiden fruit more Of loyal nature, and of noble mind." For ever! thou their tool, set on to plague " Yea," said the maid, " be manners ^"^ P^^^ "PO". ^n^ harry me, petty such fair fruit? ^PV Then Lancelot's needs must be a -^"^ traitress." When that storm of thousand-fold anger brake Less noble, being, as all rumor runs, ^^om Guinevere, aghast the maiden The most disloyal friend in all the rose, world." White as her veil, and stood before the Queen Tr. „.v,,VK „ ^^i ^ J As tremulously as foam upon the 1 o which a mournful answer made u i .1 r^ beach the Queen: c^ j • • j , i , i " r» ^i^^o^ „u^ *■ u ■ btands m a wmd, ready to break and (J closed about by narrowmg nun- n nery-walls, fly, What knowest 'thou of the world, and And vvhen the Queen had added all its IVhf hence, Ar^A cV,o^^,.,o „n 4.U 1..U J 11 Fled frighted. Then that other left And shadows, all the wealth and all i 4.U 5 alone the woe.f* c- u»j j i. l i Tf „, ^^ T 1 ^ *i, ^ . Li ^'gn d, and began to gather heart It ever Lancelot, that most noble *= ' . ^ ^ ^^7^^^ (^^ \^^ u 1 ui .u Saying in herself, " The simple, fear- Were tor one hour less noble than r i i -i i 1 • If ful child himself, ,, 1-1 r p^o., i^^ u-^ -u .. u ..u J Meant nothing, but my own too-fear- rray tor him that he scape the doom r i -i^ ^ of fire . ^"^^ S""'^^' A„ 1 „,^^„ V u u J u- ^ Simpler than any child, betrays itself. And weep for her who drew him to t? .. i i i r it his doom " P '■"^' "^^ven, for surely I repent. For what is true repentance but in "Yea," said the little novice, "I thought — pray for both; Not ev'n in inmost thought to think But I should all as soon believe that again his. The sins that made the past so pleas- Sir Lancelot's, were as noble as the ant to us: Kings, ^ And I have sworn never to see him As I could think, sweet lady, yours more, would be To see him more." Such as they are, were you the sinful Q^c^n* And ev'n in saying this, 376 IDYLLS OF THE KING Her memory from old habit of the Her journey done, glanced at him,, mind thought him cold, Went slipping back upon the golden High, self-contain'd, and passionless,. days not like him, In which she saw him first, when " Not like my Lancelot " — while she Lancelot came, brooded thus Reputed the best knight and goodliest And grew half-guilty in her thoughts man, again. Ambassador, to lead her to his lord There rode an armed warrior to the Arthur, and led her forth, and far doors. ahead A murmuring whisper thro' the nun- Of his and her retinue moving, they, nery ran. Rapt in sweet talk or lively, all on Then on a sudden a cry, " The King." love She sat And sport and tilts and pleasure (for Stiff-stricken, listening; but when the time armed feet Was maytime, and as yet no sin was Thro' the long gallery from the outer dream'd), doors Rode under groves that look'd a par- Rang commg, prone from off her seat adise she fell, Of blossom, over sheets of hyacinth And grovel'd with her face against That seem'd the heavens upbreaking the floor: thro' the earth. There with her milkwhite arms and And on from hill to hill, and every shadowy hair day She made her face a darkness from Beheld at noon in some delicious dale the King: The silk pavilions of King Arthur And in the darkness heard his armed raised feet For brief repast or afternoon repose Pause by her; then came silence, then By couriers gone before ; and on a voice, agam. Monotonous and hollow like a Till yet once more ere set of sun they Ghost's saw Denouncing judgment, but tho* The Dragon of the great Pendragon- changed, the King's: ship, That crown'd state pavilion of the King, " Liest thou here so low, the child Blaze by the rushing brook or silent of one well. I honor'd, happy, dead before thy shame ? But when the Queen immersed in Well is it that no child is born of such a trance, thee. And moving thro' the past uncon- The children born of thee are sword sciously, and fire, Came to that point where first she Red ruin, and the breaking up of saw the King laws, Ride toward her from the city, sigh'd The craft of kindred and the Godless to find hosts GUINEVERE 377 Of heathen swarming o'er the North- That I the King should greatly care ern Sea; to live; Whom I, while yet Sir Lancelot, my For thou hast spoilt the purpose of right arm, my life. The mightiest of my knights, abode Bear with me for the last time while with me, I show, Have everywhere about this land of Ev'n for thy sake, the sin which thou Christ hast sinn'd. In twelve great battles ruining over- For when the Roman left us, and thrown. their law And knovvest thou now from whence Relax'd its hold upon us, and the I come — from him, ways From waging bitter war with him: Were fill'd with rapine, here and and he, there a deed That did not shun to smite me in Of prowess done redress'd a random worse way, wrong. Had yet that grace of courtesy in him But I was first of all the kings who left, drew He spared to lift his hand against The knighthood-errant of this realm the King and all Who made him knight: but many a The realms together under me, their knight was slain ; Head, And many more, and all his kith and In that fair Order of my Table kin Round, Clave to him, and abode in his own A glorious company, the flower of land. men. And many more when Modred raised To serve as model for the mighty revolt, world Forgetful of their troth and fealty, And be the fair beginning of a time. clave I made them lay their hands in mine To Modred, and a remnant stays and swear with me. To reverence the King, as if he And of this remnant will I leave a were part, Their conscience, and their conscience True men who love me still, for as their King, whom I live. To break the heathen and uphold the To guard thee in the wild hour com- Christ, ing on, To ride abroad redressing human Lest but a hair of this low head be wrongs, harm'd. To speak no slander, no, nor listen to Fear not: thou shalt be guarded till it, my death. To honor his own word as if his Howbeit I know, if ancient prophe- God's, cies To lead sweet lives in purest chastity. Have err'd not, that I march to meet To love one maiden only, cleave to m}^ doom. her, Thou hast not made my life so sweet And worship her by years of noble to me, deeds. 378 IDYLLS OF THE KING Until they won her; for indeed I For which of us, who might be left, knew could speak Of no more subtle master under Of the pure heart, nor seem to glance heaven at thee? Than is the maiden passion for a And in thy bowers of Camelot or of maid, Usk Not only to keep down the base in Thy shadow still would glide from man, room to room, But teach high thought, and amiable And I should evermore be vext with words thee And courtliness, and the desire of In hanging robe or vacant ornament, fame. Or ghostly footfall echoing on the And love of truth, and all that makes stair. a man. For think not, tho' thou wouldst not And all this throve before I wedded love thy lord, thee. Thy lord hast wholly lost his love for Believing, * lo mine helpmate, one to thee, feel I am not made of so slight ele- My purpose and rejoicing in my ments. joy.' Yet must I leave thee, woman, to thy Then came thy shameful sin with shame. Lancelot; I hold that man the worst of public Then came the sin of Tristram and foes Isolt ; Who either for his own or children's Then others, following these my sake, mightiest knights, To save his blood from scandal, lets And drawing foul ensample from fair the wife names. Whom he knows false, abide and rule Sinn'd also, till the loathsome oppo- the house: site For being thro' his cowardice allow'd Of all my heart had destined did Her station, taken everj-where for obtain, pure. And all thro' thee! so that this life She h'ke a new disease, unknown to of mine men, I guard as God's high gift from Creeps, no precaution used, among scathe and wrong, the crowd, Not greatly care to lose; but rather Makes wicked lightnings of her eyes, think and saps How sad it were for Arthur, should The fealty of our friends, and stirs he live, the pulse To sit once more within his lonely With devil's leaps, and poisons half hall, the young. And miss the wonted number of my Worst of the worst were that man he knights, that reigns! And miss to hear high talk of noble Better the King's waste hearth and deeds aching heart As in the golden days before thy Than thou reseated in thy place of sin. light. GUINEVERE 379 The mockery of my people, and their Until it came a kingdom's curse with bane." thee — I cannot touch thy lips, they are not He paused, and in the pause she mine, crept an inch But Lancelot's: nay, they never were Nearer, and laid her hands about his the King's. feet. I cannot take thy hand; that too is Far off a solitary trumpet blew. flesh, Then waiting by the doors the war- And in the flesh thou hast sinn'd ; and horse neigh'd mine own flesh, As at a friend's voice, and he spake Here looking down on thine polluted, again : cries ' I loathe thee : ' yet not less, O " Yet think not that I come to Guinevere, urge thy crimes. For I was ever virgin save for thee, I did not come to curse thee, Guine- My love thro' flesh hath wrought into vere, my life I, whose vast pity almost makes me So far, that my doom is, I love thee die still. To see thee, laying there thy golden Let no man dream but that I love head, thee still. My priile in happier summers, at my Perchance, and so thou purify thy feet. soul, The wrath which forced my thoughts And so thou lean on our fair father on that fierce law, Christ, The doom of treason and the flaming Hereafter in that world where all are death pure (When first I learnt thee hidden We two may meet before high God, here), is past. and thou The pang — which while I weigh'd Wilt spring to me, and claim me thy heart with one thine, and know Too wholly true to dream untruth in I am thine husband — not a smaller thee, soul. Made my tears burn — is also past — Nor Lancelot, nor another. Leave in part. me that, And all is past, the sin is sinn'd, I charge thee, my last hope. Now and I, must I hence. Lo! I forgive thee, as Eternal God Thro' the thick night I hear the Forgives: do thou for thine own soul trumpet blow: the rest. They summon me their King to lead But how to take last leave of all I mine hosts loved? Far down to that great battle in the O golden hair, with which I used to west, play Where I must strike against the man Not knowing! O imperial-molded they call form, My sister's son — no kin of mine, And beauty such as never woman who leagues wore, 38o IDYLLS OF THE KING With Lords of the White Horse, heathen, and knights, Traitors — and strike him dead, and meet myself Death, or I know not what mysteri- ous doom. And thou remaining here wilt learn the event; But hither shall I never come again, Never lie by thy side; see thee no more — Farewell ! " And while she grovel'd at his feet, She felt the King's breath wander o'er her neck, And in the darkness o'er her fallen head. Perceived the waving of his hands that blest. Then, listening till those armed steps were gone, Rose the pale Queen, and in her anguish found The casement: " peradventure," so she thought, "If I might see his face, and not be seen." And lo, he sat on horseback at the door! And near him the sad nuns with each a light Stood, and he gave them charge about the Queen, To guard and foster her for ever- more. And while he spake to these his helm was lower'd, To which for crest the golden dragon clung Of Britain; so she did not see the face, Which then was as an angel's, but she saw'. Wet with the mists and smitten by the lights, The Dragon of the great Pendragon- ship Blaze, making all the night a steam of fire. And even then he turn'd ; and more and more The moony vapor rolling round the King, Who seem'd the phantom of a Giant in it, Enwound him fold by fold, and made him gray And grayer, till himself became as mist Before her, moving ghostlike to his doom. Then she stretch'd out her arms and cried aloud " Oh Arthur! " there her voice brake suddenly, Then — as a stream that spouting from a cliff Fails in mid air, but gathering at the base Re-makes itself, and flashes down the vale — Went on in passionate utterance: "Gone — my lord! Gone thro' my sin to slay and to be slain ! And he forgave me, and I could not speak. Farewell ? I should have answer'd his farewell. His mercy choked me. Gone, my lord the King, My own true lord! how dare I call him mine? The shadow of another cleaves to me, And makes me one pollution : he, the King, Call'd me polluted : shall I kill my- self? What help in that? I cannot kill my sin, YEA, LITTLE MAID, FOR AM I NOT FORGIVEN?'" Page 381 GUINEVERE 38' If soul be soul; nor can I kill my shame ; No, nor by living can I live it down. The days will grow to weeks, the weeks to months, The months will add themselves and make the years, The years will roll into the centuries. And mine will ever be a name of scorn. I must not dwell on that defeat of fame. Let the world be; that is but of the world ; What else? what hope? I think there was a hope, Except he mock'd me when he spake of hope; His hope he call'd it ; but he never mocks. For mockery is the fume of little hearts. And blessed be the King, who hath forgiven My wickedness to him, and left me hope That in mine own heart I can live down sin And be his mate hereafter in the heavens Before high God. Ah great and gentle lord. Who wast, as is the conscience of a saint Among his warring senses, to thy knights — To whom my false voluptuous pride, that took Full easily all impressions from below. Would not look up, or half-despised the height To which I would not or I could not climb — I thought I could not breathe in that fine air That pure severity of perfect light — I yearn'd for warmth and color which I found In Lancelot — now I see thee what thou art, Thou art the highest and most human too. Not Lancelot, nor another. Is there none Will tell the King I love him tho' so late? Now — ere he goes to the great Bat- tle? none: Myself must tell him in that purer life, But now it were too daring. Ah my God, What might I not have made of thy fair world. Had I but loved thy highest creature here? It was my duty to have loved the highest : It surely was my profit had I known : It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it. Not Lancelot, nor another." Here her hand Grasp'd, made her vail her eyes: she look'd and saw The novice, weeping, suppliant, and said to her, " Yea, little maid, for am / not for- given? " Then glancing up beheld the holy nuns All round her, weeping; and her heart was loosed Within her, and she wept with these and said, " Ye know me then, that wicked one, who broke The vast design and purpose of the Kin;?". 382 IDYLLS OF THE KING shut me round with narrowing And treat their loathsome hurts and nunnery-walls, heal mine own; Meek maidens, from the voices cry- And so wear out in almsdeed and in ing ' shame.' prayer 1 must not scorn myself: he loves The somber close of that voluptuous me still. day, Let no one dream but that he loves Which wrought the ruin of my lord me still. the King." So let me, if you do not shudder at me, Nor shun to call me sister, dwell She said: they took her to them- with you ; selves ; and she Wear black and white, and be a nun Still hoping, fearing " is it yet too like you, late? " Fast with your fasts, not feasting Dwelt with them, till in time their with your feasts; Abbess died. Grieve with your griefs, not grieving Then she, for her good deeds and at your joys, her pure life. But not rejoicing; mingle with your And for the power of ministration in rites; her, Pray and be pray'd for; lie before And likewise for the high rank she your shrines; had borne. Do each low office of j^our holy Was chosen Abbess, there, an Abbess, house ; lived Walk your dim cloister, and dis- For three brief years, and there, an tribute dole Abbess, past To poor sick people, richer in His To where beyond these voices there eyes is peace. Who ransom'd us and haler too than End of " The Round Table. THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. That story which the bold Sir Bedi- Who slowly paced among the slum- vere, bering host. First made and latest left of all the Heard in his tent the moanings of knights, the King: Told, when the man was no more than a voice " I found Him in the shining of In the white winter of his age, to the stars, those I mark'd Him in the flowering of With whom he dwelt, new faces. His fields, other minds. But in His ways with men I find Him not. For on their march to westward, I waged His wars, and now I pass Bedivere, and die. THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 383 O me! for whj^ is all around us here And fainter onward, like wild birds As if some lesser god had made the that change ^vorld, Their season in the night and wail But had not force to shape it as he their way would, From cloud to cloud, down the long Till the High God behold it from wind the dream beyond, Shrill'd ; but in going mingled with And enter it, and make it beautiful? dim cries Or else as if the world were wholly Far in the moonlit haze among the fair, hills. But that these eyes of men are dense As of some lonely city sack'd by night, and dim. When all is lost, and wife and child And have not power to see it as it is: with wail Perchance, because we see not to the Pass to new lords; and Arthur woke close; — and call'd. For I, being simple, thought to work "Who spake? A dream, O light His will, upon the wind. And have but stricken with the sword Thine, Gawain, was the voice — are in vain; these dim cries And all whereon I lean'd in wife and Thine? or doth all that haunts the friend waste and wild Is traitor to my peace, and all my Mourn, knowing it will go along realm with me? " Reels back into the beast, and is no more. This heard the bold Sir Bedivere My God, thou hast forgotten me in and spake: my death : " O me, my King, let pass whatever Nay — God my Christ — I pass but will, shall not die." Elves, and the harmless glamour of the field; Then, ere that last weird battle in But in their stead thy name and glory the west, cling There came on Arthur sleeping, To all high places like a golden Gawain kill'd cloud In Lancelot's war, the ghost of For ever: but as yet thou shalt not Gawain blown pass. Along a wandering wind, and past Light was Gawain in life, and light his ear in death Went shrilling, " Hollow, hollow all Is Gawain, for the ghost is as the delight! man; Hail, King! to-morrow thou shalt And care not thou for dreams from pass away. him, but rise — Farewell! there is an isle of rest for I hear the steps of Mod red in the thee. west, And I am blown along a wandering And with him many of thy people, wind, and knights And hollow, hollow, hollow all de- Once thine, whom thou hast loved, light." but grosser grown 384 IDYLLS OF THE KING Than heathen, spitting at their vows and thee. Right well in heart they know thee for the King. Arise, go forth and conquer as of old." Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : " Far other is this battle in the west Whereto we move, than when we strove in youth, And brake the petty kings, and fought with Rome, Or thrust the heathen from the Roman wall. And shook him thro' the north. Ill doom is mine To war against my people and my knights. The king who fights his people fights himself. And they my knights, who loved me once, the stroke That strikes them dead is as my death to me. Yet let us hence, and find or feel a way Thro' this blind haze, which ever since I saw One lying in the dust at Almesbury, Hath folded in the passes of the world." Then rose the King and moved his host by night, And ever push'd Sir Modred, league by league. Back to the sunset bound of Lyon- nesse — A land of old upheaven from the abyss By fire, to sink into the abyss again ; Where fragments of forgotten peo- ples dwelt, And the long mountains ended in a coast Of ever-shifting sand, and far away The phantom circle of a moaning sea. There the pursuer could pursue no more, And he that fled no further fly the King ; And there, that day when the great light of heaven Burn'd at his lowest in the rolling year, On the waste sand by the waste sea they closed. Nor ever yet had Arthur fought a fight Like this last, dim, weird battle of the west. A deathwhite mist slept over sand and sea: Whereof the chill, to him who breathed it, drew Down with his blood, till all his heart was cold With formless fear; and ev'n on Ar- thur fell Confusion, since he saw not whom he fought. For friend and foe were shadows in the mist. And friend slew friend not knowing whom he slew ; And some had visions out of golden youth. And some beheld the faces of old ghosts Look in upon the battle; and in the mist Was many a noble deed, many a base, And chance and craft and strength in single fights, And ever and anon with host to host Shocks, and the splintering spear, the hard mail hewn. Shield-breakings, and the clash of brands, the crash Of battleaxes on shatter'd helms, and shrieks After the Christ, of those who falling down THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 38s Look'd up for heaven, and only saw The voice of days of old and days the mist; to be. And shouts of heathen and the traitor knights, Oaths, insult, filth, and monstrous blasphemies. Sweat, writhings, anguish, laboring of the lungs In that close mist, and cryings for the light, Moans of the dying, and voices of the dead. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere, And whiter than the mist that all day long Had held the field of battle was the King: " Hearest thou this great voice that shakes the world. And wastes the narrow realm where- Last, as by some one deathbed after . , ?" ^^^ move, , , , , „,^;i And beats upon the faces of the dead, vv ail i\ /r J J u ' I 11 1 • I Of suffering, silence follows, or thro' death Or death-like swoon, thus over all that shore, Save for some whisper of the seeth- ing seas, A dead hush fell ; but when the dolor- ous day, My dead, as tho' they had not died for me ? — O Bedivere, for on my heart hath fall'n Confusion, till I know not what I am, Nor whence I am, nor whether I be King. Grew drearier toward twilight fall- ^"h°^/' } ,^^^"^ ^ut King among the ing, came ^^^^• A bitter wind, clear from the North, and blew The mist aside, and with that wind the tide Rose, and the pale King glanced across the field Of battle: but no man was moving there ; Nor any cry of Christian heard thereon. Nor yet of heathen ; only the wan wave Brake in among dead faces, to and fro Swaying the helpless hands, and up and down Tumbling the hollow helmets of the fallen. Then spake the bold Sir Bedivere: " My King, King everywhere! and so the dead have kings, There also will I worship thee as King. Yet still thy life is whole, and still I live Who love thee ; but who hates thee, he that brought The heathen back among us, yonder stands, Modred, unharm'd, the traitor of thine house." Then spake the King: " My house hath been my doom. And shiver'd brands that once had But call not thou this traitor of my fought with Rome, house And rolling far along the gloomy Who hath but dwelt beneath one roof shores with me. 386 IDYLLS OF THE KING My house are rather they who sware my vows, Yea, even while they brake them, own'd me King. And well for thee, saying in my dark hour. When all the purport of my throne hath fail'd, That quick or dead thou holdest me for King. King am I, whatsoever be their cry; And one last act of kinghood shalt thou see Yet, ere I pass." And uttering this the King Made at the man: then Modred smote his liege Hard on that helm which many a heathen sword Had beaten thin ; while Arthur at one blow, Striking the last stroke with Excali- bur. Slew him, and all but slain himself, he fell. So all day long the noise of battle roU'd Among the mountains by the winter sea; Until King Arthur's Table, man by man. Had fall'n in Lyonnesse about their lord, King Arthur. Then, because his wound was deep, The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him. And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land: On one side lay the Ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : " The sequel of to-day unsolders all The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep — the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time, Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were. I perish by this people which I made, — Tho' Merlin sware that I should come again To rule once more ; but, let what will be, be, I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm That without help I cannot last till morn. Thou therefore take my brand Ex- calibur. Which was my pride: for thou re- memberest how In those old days, one summer noon, an arm Rose up from out the bosom of the lake, Clothed in white samite, mystic, won- derful. Holding the sword — and how I row'd across And took it, and have worn it, like a king; And, wheresoever I am sung or told In aftertime, this also shall be known : But now delay not: take Excalibur, And fling him far into the middle mere: Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring me word." To him replied the bold Sir Bedi- vere: THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 387 " It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus, Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm — A little thing may harm a wounded man ; Yet I thy hest will all perform at full, Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word." So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stept And in the moon athwart the place of tombs. Where lay the mighty bones of an- cient men, Old knights, and over them the sea- wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. There drew he forth the brand Ex- calibur. And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt: For all the haft twinkled with dia- mond sparks, Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth- work Of subtlest jewelry. He gazed so long That both his eyes were dazzled as he stood. This way and that dividing the swift mind, In act to throw: but at the last it seem'd Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd There in the many-knotted water- flags, That whistled stiff and dry about the marge. So strode he back slow to the wounded King. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : " Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave? WTiat is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard ? " And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : " I heard the ripple washing in the reeds. And the wild water lapping on the crag. To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale: " Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name, Not rendering true answer, as be- seem'd Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight: For surer sign had foUow'd, either hand. Or voice, or else a motion of the mere. This is a shameful thing for men to lie. Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again. As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word." Then went Sir Bedivere the sec- ond time Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere, Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in thought; 388 IDYLLS OF THE KING But when he saw the wonder of the So spake he, clouded with his own hilt, conceit, How curiously and strangely chased, And hid Excalibur the second time, he smote And so strode back slow to the His palms together, and he cried wounded King. aloud : Then spoke King Arthur, breath- " And if indeed I cast the brand ing heavily : away, " What is it thou hast seen? or what Surely a precious thing, one worthy hast heard?" note, Should thus be lost forever from the And answer made the bold Sir earth, Bedivere: Which might have pleased the eyes " I heard the water lapping on the of many men. crag. What good should follow this, if And the long ripple washing in the this were done? reeds." What harm, undone? Deep harm to disobey. To whom replied King Arthur, Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. much in wrath : Were it well to obey then, if a king " Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, demand Unknightly, traitor-hearted ! Woe is An act unprofitable, against him- me! self? Authority forgets a dying king, The King is sick, and knows not Laid widow'd of the power in his what he does. eye What record, or what relic of iny That bow'd the will. I see thee lord what thou art. Should be to aftertime, but empty For thou, the latest-left of all my breath knights. And rumors of a doubt? But were In whom should meet the offices of this kept, all. Stored in some treasure-house of Thou wouldst betray me for the mighty kings, precious hilt; Some one might show it at a joust Either from lust of gold, or like a of arms, girl Saying, * King Arthur's sword, Ex- Valuing the giddy pleasure of the calibur, eyes. Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Yet, for a man may fail in duty Lake. twice. Nine years she w^rought it, sitting in And the third time may prosper, get the deeps thee hence: Upon the hidden bases of the hills.' But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, So might some old man speak in the I will arise and slay thee with my aftertime hands." To all the people, winning reverence. But now much honor and much Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, fame were lost." and ran, THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 389 And, leaping down the ridges lightly, Then with both hands I flung him, plunged wheeling him ; Among the bulrush beds, and But when I look'd again, behold an clutch'd the sword, arm, And strongly wheel'd and threw it. Clothed in white samite, mystic, The great brand wonderful. Made lightnings in the splendor of That caught him by the hilt, and the moon, brandish'd him And flashing round and round, and Three times, and drew him under in whirl'd in an arch, the mere." Shot like a streamer of the northern And answer made King Arthur, mom, breathing hard : Seen where the moving isles of win- "My end draws nigh; 'tis time that ter shock I were gone. By night, with noises of the North- Make broad thy shoulders to receive ern Sea. my weight, So flash'd and fell the brand Excal- And bear me to the margin ; yet I ibur : fear But ere he dipt the surface, rose an My wound hath taken cold, and I Clothed in white samite, mystic, won- derful, And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him Three times, and drew him under in the mere. And lightly went the other to the King. shall die. So saying, from the pavement he half rose. Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm. And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere Remorsefully regarded thro' his tears, And would have spoken, but he w see I bv thine eyes that this ^, ^°""^ not words; is done ' ^°° ^^'^ ^^^^' ^ kneehng on one knee, O'er both his shoulders drew the lan- guid hands. And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath : "Now is Speak out: what is it thou hast heard, or seen? " And answ^er made the bold Sir Bedivere: *' Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems But, as he walk'd. King Arthur panted hard, Should blind my purpose, for I never Like one that feels a nightmare on saw, his bed Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till When all the house is mute. So I die, ^ ^ sigh'd the King, Not tho' I live three lives of mortal Muttering and murmuring at his men, ear, " Quick, quick ! So great a miracle as yonder hilt. I fear it is too late, and I shall die." 390 IDYLLS OF THE KING But the other swiftly strode from So to the barge they came. There ridge to ridge, those three Queens Clothed with his breath, and looking, Put forth their hands, and took the as he walk'd, King, and wept. Larger than human on the frozen But she, that rose the tallest of them hills. all He heard the deep behind him, and And fairest, laid his head upon her a cry lap. Before. His own thought drove And loosed the shatter'd casque, and him like a goad. chafed his hands, Dry clash'd his harness in the icy And call'd him by his name, com- caves plaining loud. And barren chasms, and all to left And dropping bitter tears against a and right brow The bare black cliff clang'd round Striped with dark blood: for all his him, as he based face was white His feet on juts of slippery crag that And colorless, and like the wither'd rang moon Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed Smote by the fresh beam of the heels — springing east; And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd And the long glories of the winter with drops moon. Of onset; and the light and lustrous curls — Then saw they how there hove a That made his forehead like a rising dusky barge, sun Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to High from the dais-throne — were stern, parch'd with dust; Beneath them ; and descending they Or, clotted into points and hanging were ware loose, That all the decks were dense with Mix'd with the knightly growth stately forms, that fringed his lips. Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a So like a shatter'd column lay the dream — by these King; Three Queens with crowns of gold : Not like that Arthur who, with lance and from them rose in rest, A cry that shiver'd to the tingling From spur to plume a star of tourna- stars, ment, And, as it were one voice, an agony Shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and Of lamentation, like a wind that charged shrills Before the eyes of ladies and of All night in a waste land, where no kings. one comes, Or hath come, since the making of the world. Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere : Then murmur'd Arthur, " Place " Ah ! my Lord Arthur, whither shall me in the barge." I go? THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 391 Where shall I hide my forehead and That nourish a blind life within the my eyes? brain, For now I see the true old times are If, knowing God, they lift not hands dead, of prayer When every morning brought a Both for themselves and those who noble chance, call them friend? And every chance brought out a For so the whole round earth is noble knight. every way Such times have been not since the Bound by gold chains about the feet light that led of God. The holy Elders with the gift of But now farewell. I am going a myrrh. long way But now the whole Round Table is With these thou seest — if indeed I dissolved go _ j • u Which was an image of the mighty — For all my mind is clouded with a world, doubt— . . .,. And I, the last, go forth companion- To the island-valley of Avdion; less Where falls not hail, or rain, or And the days darken round me, and any snow, the years. Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it Among new men, strange faces, other lies j^inds." Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with And slowly answer'd Arthur from summer sea, the barge : Where I will heal me of my grievous " The old order changeth, yielding wound." place to new. And God fulfils himself in many g^ ^^jj ^^^ ^^^ ^^xe barge with oar ways, and sail Lest one good custom should corrupt ^^^^^^ fj-om the brink, like some the world. full-breasted swan Comfort thyself: what comfort is in ^^^^^ fluting a wild carol ere her me? _ death, I have lived my life, and that which r^^^s ^er pure cold plume, and I have done ,, , , takes the flood May He within himself make pure ! ^j^j^ swarthy webs. Long stood Sir but thou, Bedivere If thou shouldst never see my face Revolving ^any memories, till the again, hull Pray for my soul. More things are ^ook'd one black dot against the wrought by prayer ^^j-g^ ^f j^wn, Than this world dreams of. ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^.^ ^^e wailing died Wherefore, let thy voice ^^^^^ Rise like a fountain for me night and For whit are men better than sheep But when that moan had past for or goats evermore, 392 IDYLLS OF THE KING The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn Amazed him, and he groan'd, " The King is gone." And therewithal came on him the weird rhyme, " From the great deep to the great deep he goes." Whereat he slowly turn'd and slowly clomb The last hard footstep of that iron crag; Thence mark'd the black hull mov- ing yet, and cried, " He passes to be King among the dead, And after healing of his grievous wound He comes again ; but — if he comes no more — O me, be yon dark Queens in yon black boat. Who shrlek'd and wail'd, the three whereat we gazed On that high day, when, clothed with living light. They stood before his throne in si- lence, friends Of Arthur, who should help him at his need? " Then from the dawn it seem'd there came, but faint As from beyond the limit of the world, Like the last echo born of a great cry, Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice Around a king returning from his wars. Thereat once more he moved about, and clomb Ev'n to the highest he could climb, and saw. Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand, Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King, Down that long water opening on the deep Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go From less to less and vanish into light. And the new sun rose bringing the new year. TO THE QUEEN O LOYAL to the royal in thyself. And loyal to thy land, as this to thee — Bear witness, that rememberable day. When, pale as yet, and fever-worn, the Prince Who scarce had pluck'd his flicker- ing life again From halfway down the shadow of the grave. Past with thee thro' thy people and their love, And London roll'd one tide of joy thro' all Her trebled millions, and loud leagues of man And welcome! witness, too, the si- lent cry. The prayer of many a race and creed, and clime — Thunderless lightnings striking under sea From sunset and sunrise of all thy realm, TO THE QUEEN 393 And that true North, whereof we Ideal manhood closed In real man, lately heard Rather than that gray king, whose A strain to shame us, " Keep you to name, a ghost, yourselves; Streams like a cloud, man-shaped, So loyal is too costly! friends — your from mountain peak, love And cleaves to cairn and cromlech Is but a burthen: loose the bond, and still; or him go." Of Geoffrey's book, or him of Mall- Is this the tone of empire? here the eor's, one faith Touch'd by the adulterous finger of That made us rulers ? this, indeed, a time her voice That hover'd between war and wan- And meaning, whom the roar of tonness, Hougoumont And crownings and dethronements: Left mightiest of all peoples under take withal heaven? Thy poet's blessing, and his trust that What shock has fool'd her since, that Heaven she should speak Will blow the tempest in the distance So feebly? wealthier — wealthier — back hour by hour! From thine and ours: for some are The voice of Britain, or a sinking scared, who mark, land, Or wisely or unwisely, signs of storm. Some third-rate isle half-lost among Waverings of every vane with every her seas? wind. There rang her voice, when the full And wordy trucklings to the transient city peal'd hour, Thee and thy Prince! The loyal to And fierce or careless looseners of their crown the faith, Are loyal to their own far sons, who And Softness breeding scorn of sim- love pie life, Our ocean-empire with her boundless Or Cowardice, the child of lust for homes gold. For ever-broadening England, and Or Labor, with a groan and not a her throne voice. In our vast Orient, and one isle, one Or Art with poisonous honey stol'n isle, from France, That knows not her own greatness: And that which knows, but careful if she knows for itself, And dreads it we are fall'n. — But And that which knows not, ruling thou, my Queen, that which knows Not for itself, but thro' thy living To its own harm: the goal of this love great world For one to whom I made it o'er his Lies beyond sight : j'et — if our grave slowly-grown Sacred, except this old imperfect And crown'd Republic's crowning tale common-sense. New-old, and shadowing Sense at That saved her many times, not fail war with Soul — their fears SEP 5 1912 394 IDYLLS OF THE KING Are morning shadows huger than The darkness of that battle in the the shapes West, That cast them, not those gloomier Where all of high and holy dies which forego away.