ARTHUR

    A TRAGEDY




    ARTHUR
    A TRAGEDY

    BY
    LAURENCE BINYON

    [Illustration]

    BOSTON
    SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY
    PUBLISHERS




    COPYRIGHT, 1923
    BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
    (INCORPORATED)


    Printed in the United States of America

    THE MURRAY PRINTING COMPANY
    CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

    BINDING BY
    THE BOSTON BOOKBINDING COMPANY
    CAMBRIDGE, MASS.




TO

SIR JOHN AND LADY MARTIN HARVEY


_With what names should I inscribe this play but with yours? Yet what
right have I to dedicate to you what is already so much your own?
Memory goes back to that June day, now long ago, when first I undertook
to write for you a play out of Malory’s pages on a theme long pondered
by you both. And many days come back to me, in London or by the sunny
Channel, when time was forgotten in ardent work and interchange
of ideas; in thinking out and talking over crucial situations; in
rejecting and recasting; in the search for essential structure. How
much the play owes to you, both in framework and in detail, none
knows so well as I. Give me leave, therefore, to write these words
in grateful acknowledgment of that initial trust, of much fruitful
suggestion and inspiriting counsel, and of all I have learnt from you
of the playwright’s patient craft._

    LAURENCE BINYON.




CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY


    KING ARTHUR.
    SIR LAUNCELOT.
    SIR GAWAINE}
    SIR GAHERIS} _brothers_.
    SIR GARETH}
    SIR BEDIVERE.
    SIR LUCAN.
    SIR BERNARD OF ASTOLAT.
    LAVAINE}
    TORRE} _his sons_.
    SIR MORDRED.
    SIR AGRAVAINE}
    SIR COLEGREVANCE} _of Mordred’s party_.
    SIR MADOR}
    SIR PATRICE}
    SIR BORS}
    SIR KAY} _friends of Launcelot_.
    DUMB SIMON, _servant of Sir Bernard_.
    A BISHOP.
    A MAN-AT-ARMS.
    A MESSENGER.
    A GUARD.
    QUEEN GUENEVERE.
    ELAINE.
    LYNNED, _a nun_.
    QUEEN’S LADY.
    FIRST NOVICE.
    SECOND NOVICE.
    THE DAMSEL OF PEACE.

_A banner-bearer, priests, esquires, men-at-arms, soldiers, ladies of
the Court, etc._




ARTHUR

A TRAGEDY




FIRST SCENE

SIR BERNARD’S _castle at Astolat. A room with a window at the back._
SIR BERNARD _alone, seated; he is old and grey-bearded_.

LAVAINE _enters in a hurry of excitement_.


LAVAINE

    Father, the King’s at London gates!

SIR BERNARD

                                        Returned?

LAVAINE

    Victorious. He has overthrown and scattered
    Those rebels in the North.

SIR BERNARD

                               Praise God for that!
    How heard you this, Lavaine?

LAVAINE

                                 From a King’s herald
    That rode through Astolat. I spoke with him.
    But, father, there’s new faction now, he says,
    Brewing in the West. He is below with Torre.

SIR BERNARD

    A herald of the King! What does he here?

LAVAINE

    The King sends seeking for Sir Launcelot.
    Three months ago he vanished, this man said;
    Vanished, and not a word of why or whither.
    But now the King’s returned, he’ll search the land
    Into its farthest corners for his friend.... (_pause_)
    Father, is it not strange Sir Launcelot vanished
    Just ere the King had so great need of him?

SIR BERNARD

    Very strange.

        (_A pause._)

LAVAINE

                  Father, have you ever thought
    Perhaps our guest, this knight my sister found
    Pierced by an arrow among the forest leaves,
    Who will not tell his name, might be none other
    Than Launcelot himself?

SIR BERNARD

    What starts your thought upon so wild a fancy?

LAVAINE

    It is three months ago, the herald says,
    Sir Launcelot disappeared. Three months ago
    This knight was wounded and brought hither. Then,
    Another thing--but now I took him news
    Of the King’s victory; he was greatly stirred;
    But when I spoke of this new head of trouble
    Reared in the West, he started up and cried,
    “I must be gone: the King has need of me!”

SIR BERNARD

    Sir Launcelot? It can hardly be, Lavaine.
    But he has borne him like a true, brave knight,
    And though he has kept his name unknown to us
    I’ll wager it is noble----

LAVAINE

                               And a name
    Not less renowned than noble, I am sure.
    Father, King Arthur needs good men-at-arms,
    Needs every sword that’s loyal. If our guest
    Goes to the King now, let me ride with him
    To London; let me serve in the King’s wars.

SIR BERNARD

    Your sword must win a wide renown, my son,
    Ere he has need of you.

LAVAINE

                            I’ll win renown;
    I’ll hew it from the world, as Launcelot did.

SIR BERNARD

    Patience, my son! If any serves the King
    From this house, it shall be my eldest son
    First, and your brother bides with me----

LAVAINE

                                              Oh, Torre!
    A stay-at-home born! He’ll not leave his dogs.
    He’s for the country, and abhors the Court.

TORRE _bursts in_.

TORRE

    I have found him. Blind that I must have been
    Not to have guessed before!

LAVAINE

                                Found whom, Torre?

TORRE (_at the window_).

                                                   Look!
    Look! in the garden, walking with Elaine.
    God wither him!

SIR BERNARD

                    Our guest? What mean you, boy?

TORRE

    Evermore by our sister’s side, and she
    Takes his corruption to her innocence
    Like syllables of Scripture. Would to heaven----

SIR BERNARD

    Cease raving, Torre. Our guest----

TORRE

                                       Who hides his name----
    What name? Why hidden? I have found him out.

LAVAINE

    Who is it?

TORRE

               Launcelot!

LAVAINE

                          Did I not say it, father?

TORRE

    You knew?

LAVAINE

              The thought leapt to my mind but now.

SIR BERNARD

    Sir Launcelot?

TORRE

                   Launcelot, the Queen’s paramour.

SIR BERNARD

    Shame, Torre! Shame! The King’s friend.

LAVAINE

                                            The best knight
    That wears a sword upon this earth.

TORRE

                                        A traitor!

LAVAINE

    He serves the Queen, and the Queen chooses him
    To be her peerless champion in the lists;
    Therefore the vile think evil.

TORRE

                                   You are a boy;
    Talk like a boy, think like a boy.

SIR BERNARD

                                       You know
    This is Sir Launcelot? He has told it to you?
    Many a knight will hide his name for cause
    Of some adventure, or some secret vow.

TORRE

    Is it not three months since this guest of ours
    Was found in the forest with an arrow through him----
    Found by Elaine? Would God that hunter’s arrow
    Had split his heart in two!

SIR BERNARD

                                This rage is madness.

TORRE

    It’s he. The herald told me of a scar
    Upon Sir Launcelot’s forehead. You have seen it.
    Look at Elaine, pacing beside him. Watch
    How her cheek changes, how she listens----

LAVAINE

                                               Well,
    He is not so graceless not to bid good-bye
    To her that’s been his hostess and his nurse.
    What harm in that?

TORRE

                       What harm? To lose her heart
    And make a pastime for the filcher of it!
    Queen, country maid--all’s practice to his lures.

SIR BERNARD

    You anger me: so rank in your suspicions.
    You read him backward, as the witches do
    The holy writ. Whether Launcelot or no,
    This is a true man.

TORRE

                        Father, he is false.

LAVAINE

    You slander one that’s better than yourself.

TORRE

    He goes. I’ll to the herald now, and I’ll
    Proclaim him found.

LAVAINE

                        And when he goes, I go.
    I’ll follow such a man to the world’s end.

TORRE

    Lavaine, you shall not.

LAVAINE

                            And I say, I will.

TORRE

    He is the lover of Queen Guenevere.

LAUNCELOT _enters quietly_.

TORRE

    None in the Court but knows it, save the King.

SIR BERNARD

    Now shame upon you, Torre. Our guest is here.

TORRE

    Let me speak, father.

SIR BERNARD

                          Will you shame our house
    And me too? Peace.

TORRE

                       I must speak out my heart,
    Guest or no guest. Sir, will it please you to ask
    This guest of ours why he has hid a name
    Men know, whether for good or ill----

SIR BERNARD

                                          This house
    Shall not forget its ancient courtesies
    While I am master. These are sorry manners:
    I never taught you such. In his own time
    Our noble guest shall tell us what he will
    Or, if he choose, be nameless. Now, no more.

LAVAINE (_eagerly_)

    Is it Sir Launcelot?

LAUNCELOT

                         I am Launcelot. Sir,
    Pardon me, if for causes of my own
    I let my name sleep in the dark awhile.

SIR BERNARD

    We should have guessed it. Though we dwell retired
    In Astolat, doubt not those deeds of fame
    Which you have done for Britain and our King
    And made a glory in the land--doubt not
    We have them all by heart.

LAVAINE

                               Drank them like wine.

SIR BERNARD

    Our children’s children will be telling them
    By the fire. The famed Sir Launcelot! and this,
    This is our guest--Sir Launcelot! Good news.

TORRE

    Good news, that he has thieved your daughter’s heart!
    But here he stays no moment more. I’ll fetch
    King Arthur’s herald and proclaim him.

LAUNCELOT

                                           Spare
    Your pains, sir. I have spoken with that herald
    And ride with him at once; I had come now
    For my farewell.

TORRE

                     By heaven, and not too soon.

SIR BERNARD

    Torre!

LAUNCELOT

           Let him speak.

SIR BERNARD

                          Nay, Sir----

TORRE

                                       Have you not eyes?
    This paragon of Courts, smiled on of Queens,
    Deigns for his rustic leisure to make sport
    Of our simplicity. Elaine has given
    Her whole heart to him, and he’ll toss her now
    To oblivion.

SIR BERNARD

                 Torre, you have dishonoured me----

LAVAINE

    Shame, Torre!

SIR BERNARD

                  Dishonoured me and all my house.

TORRE

    I am rough: but truth is rough; and the bur sticks.

LAUNCELOT

    Sir Bernard,
    I owe your daughter all the breath I breathe.
    She found me at the gasp of death; she brought me
    Of her sweet pity hither, healed my wound,
    And more; for when black clouds were on my mind
    She let the morning shine full into it;
    I felt her like the sky, the morning dew.
    If--if there be some fondness, some young spring
    Of fondness in her heart, Time soon amends
    Such wounds. She is a child. If this be gone
    More deep than tenderness and pity’s tears
    I have means to cure it. Let me speak with her.

TORRE

    He shall not, father.

SIR BERNARD

                          This to me! Now leave us,
    Or ask a pardon that is ill deserved.

ELAINE _enters_

SIR BERNARD

    Sir Launcelot----

        (ELAINE, _hearing the name, gives a little cry of wonder_.)

                      Elaine! Speak with her, then.
    You have my trust. My sons, come.

TORRE

                                      You are blind.
    We shall taste bitterness ere this be done.

        [SIR BERNARD _goes out with his sons._

ELAINE

    Sir Launcelot! Sir Launcelot of the Lake?
    Was it the famed Sir Launcelot that I found
    Like a dead man so pale on the dead leaves?
    Sir Launcelot! I have won Sir Launcelot back
    To life, to glory! Now I have a name
    To call you by; the name I used to hear
    When it seemed distant as the dazzling sun;
    Why did you hide your name?

        (LAUNCELOT _is silent_.)

                                Something is changed.
    What is it? Tell me.

LAUNCELOT

                         The King has been in peril;
    I should have been with him.

ELAINE

                                 And not with me!

LAUNCELOT

    Forgive me, my fair nurse. If I have breath
    To speak at all, I owe it to you. For you
    Have made of me a new man, and I thank you
    With all my heart that now I can return
    To serve my King. Where is my shield?

ELAINE (_bringing the shield from a corner of the room_)

                                          So soon?
    And I must lose the shield? Look, I have made
    A silken case broidered with its device
    And bordered with fair flowers, which day by day
    I broidered while you lay so sick and speechless.
    Each morning I have burnished it.

LAUNCELOT

                                      Like me,
    It wears its scars.

ELAINE

                        Glorious scars! I seem
    To feel the rushing stroke, when you upheld it
    There! Dreadful stroke! Good shield! What fight was that?

LAUNCELOT

    It was that battle on the Solway shore,
    When all the sands were blood, and we were pressed
    So heavily by the wild men of the isles
    That in the press the King came near his death.
    This shielded Arthur then.

ELAINE

                               And you, you saved him.

LAUNCELOT

    So kingly a King, who would not die for him?
    He has made this isle of Britain such a realm
    As famous Alexander might have throned
    Or Cæsar bled for:
    Beat back the Saxon, soldered into one
    The princedoms that were all at envious broil
    With one another; made his name a trumpet,
    Sounding across the seas even to Rome.
    The world knows that; but I know more and dearer.

ELAINE

    How came this other scar?

LAUNCELOT

                              Ah, that was done
    By my own friend, Sir Gawaine. He mistook me
    For the false Torquil, who had trapped his brothers.
    But, when he knew, he flung his sword away
    And caught me to his heart; a headlong man
    In wrath or love.

ELAINE

                      I pray he love you always.
    And this deep gash?

LAUNCELOT

                        By the black winter waves
    Under Tintagel towers, that blow was dealt.

ELAINE

    Wonderful shield, that has endured such blows
    And borne your mortal wounds for you, and been
    Where I would fain have been! I feel as if
    Those dreadful murderous thrusts were in my body.
    How had I gloried to be this, that saved you!
    Leave me the shield that has your story on it
    Till I have all its battles in my heart.

LAUNCELOT

    How should a knight do battle without his shield?

ELAINE

    I must resign it then. Take your good shield,
    But I will keep its case. Look! I have stitched
    Upon it with my needle every scar
    That gashed its brightness. And now you will forsake me?

LAUNCELOT

    Have you no boon to ask me, ere I go?
    I owe you all. Ask what you will.

ELAINE

                                      A boon?
    And you will grant me anything I ask?

LAUNCELOT

    If it be in my power, and in my honour.

ELAINE

    I have heard that a knight wears his lady’s favour
    When he goes into battle. Wear you mine?

LAUNCELOT

    I never did that yet for any maid,
    For any woman. Ask some other boon,
    Not this.

ELAINE

              But this is all I have to ask.

LAUNCELOT

    Think, and then choose again.

ELAINE

                                  You promised me.
    Is my poor favour so contemptible?
    I have it here.

LAUNCELOT

                    What is it?

ELAINE

                                A red sleeve
    Sewn with pearls.

LAUNCELOT

                      If I wear this for your sake,
    Since you have won me from my wound, Elaine,
    You did more than you knew. I had fled the world.
    Because I had in my tormented heart
    Something it was too weak to endure against.
    But now you have made me strong. I fear no more.

ELAINE

    Never was fear, never was aught but honour
    Within the great heart of Sir Launcelot.
    And you will wear this? I will bind it on.

LAUNCELOT

    I never did so much for any woman;
    But I will wear it.

ELAINE

                        I have bound it on.
    And now you are my knight! I see it far,
    My sleeve, my red sleeve, far among the spears,
    Among the helmets: none dare follow it.
    I know my knight shall triumph over all,
    Over the world.

LAUNCELOT

                    Elaine, you cannot tell
    How like a fountain that pure trust you have
    Cleanses me through. God keep me true to it.
    And now, farewell.

ELAINE

                       But you will come again?

LAUNCELOT

    My child, I will not.

ELAINE

                          Oh, my lord, have mercy
    Without you I shall die.

LAUNCELOT

                             Elaine!

ELAINE

                                     Have mercy.
    I cannot live, but if you love me.

LAUNCELOT

                                       Ah!

ELAINE

    Take me for wife, or no wife if you will.
    But if you do not love me, I must die.

LAUNCELOT

    Elaine,
    Deep in the heart of me, humbly and purely,
    I thank you for your love, for your sweet love;
    Sweet as a flower it is to my sore spirit.
    But I am one who, could I give such love
    As should be yours, the love that blesses both
    In the meeting lips of innocence, the love
    That’s honour, faith, truth--must be changed to what
    I am not. Did you know----

ELAINE

                               I only know
    That if you will not love me, I must die.

LAUNCELOT

    Let the months pass, and you shall smile at this.
    Life’s yet for you in the young leaf, Elaine,
    You’ll love some other man, some better man.
    And whosoever it be, I give you both
    A dowry of my treasure and my lands
    To you and to your heirs, and I will be
    Your own knight till I die.

ELAINE

                                None of all this,
    None of all this I want; only your love.
    Give me your love, or my good days are done.

LAUNCELOT

    You know not what you ask, nor whom you ask.
    I have a sin heavy upon my soul.

ELAINE

    What is that to me, who love you?

LAUNCELOT

                                      It were better
    You thought of me all the evil that’s in men.
    Hate me!

ELAINE

             I cannot. If I would, I cannot.

LAUNCELOT

    Made I such pain when I was tasting only
    The sweet of the world? Now I have set my will
    On the hard path, I suffer and make suffer
    All that I touch.

ELAINE

                      Let me but suffer for you!
    Let me but follow where you go, my lord;
    However rough the roads, I’ll travel them;
    Though my feet bleed, that shall be sweet to me.

LAUNCELOT

    Shall nothing but the truth content you then?
    My heart is given--lost!

ELAINE

                             Now you have told me.

        (_She sinks half fainting._)

LAUNCELOT

    Lavaine, Sir Bernard, enter!

        SIR BERNARD, TORRE, and LAVAINE _re-enter_.

TORRE

                                 Devil! She knows,
    And it will kill her.

SIR BERNARD

                          Child! Elaine! Look up.

LAUNCELOT

    Sir Bernard, I have hurt her but to heal.
    Pardon me for this sorrow I have made.

TORRE

    Did I not say that we should rue this man?
    She has seen to his black heart, and it will kill her.

SIR BERNARD

    Peace, Torre! (_To Launcelot_) I doubt not you have used all kindness.
    We’ll pray that Time amend this in his fashion.
    Sir Launcelot, God be with you.

LAUNCELOT

                                    And with you
    Would heaven that I could have requited her.

LAVAINE

    I must go, father, with Sir Launcelot.
    _She_ understands well how it is with me.
    Father, your blessing (_kneels_).

SIR BERNARD

                                           Have your will, my son.
    Seeing what has befallen, maybe it is best.
    Go, and be worthy of the house that bred you.

LAUNCELOT

    Come then, Lavaine. I do but rankle here.

LAVAINE

    Sister, farewell.

LAUNCELOT

                      Peace come to you, Elaine.
    Kind host, again farewell. In the white fire
    Of her young heart be grief consumed away.

        [_Exeunt_ LAUNCELOT _and_ LAVAINE.

SIR BERNARD

    Brave, sweet; look up!

TORRE

                           Oh, father, she will die.




SECOND SCENE

_A room in the Palace at London. At the back a colonnade, through which
is seen a rose hedge. The_ KING _and_ SIR BEDIVERE: ARTHUR _pacing up
and down_.

ARTHUR

    No news yet, Bedivere?

BEDIVERE

    Our messengers return with silent faces.
    It is as if the earth had swallowed him.

ARTHUR

    Launcelot lost!... This victory, Bedivere,
    Was not as the old days. Something baulked us, something
    Like an invisible impediment--
    I felt it round me--something that unnerved
    What should have been a hammer-stroke. Almost,
    But for my suddenness, it was defeat.

BEDIVERE

    I had not hazarded to broach a thought
    Sprung from surmises only; but my King
    Has spoken; therefore, may I speak?

ARTHUR

                                        Hide nothing.

BEDIVERE

    If rumours breathed about the camp be true,
    There was some treason.

ARTHUR

                            I felt it in the air,
    Like fog on a sour wind. Tell me more.

BEDIVERE

                                           Sir,
    I cannot speak but on a dark report,
    And hardly now dare tell.

ARTHUR

                              Hide nothing. Speak.

BEDIVERE

    The name that men have whispered in the night
    Is the name of Mordred.

ARTHUR

                            My own sister’s son!
    In my own house, treason!

BEDIVERE

                              It may be nothing,
    But one I sent on a night-errand saw
    A man disguised and muffled stealing up
    From where the rebels lay. A camp-fire chanced
    To blaze up on a sudden out of smoke.
    The face was Mordred’s.

ARTHUR

                            Mordred, false to me!
    Treachery in my own house, Bedivere.

BEDIVERE

    Mordred is ever fair and frank in speech,
    Looks you in the eyes and smiles. And in the battle,
    Though he’s no hungry fighter, he fought well;
    And, after, cheered our victory. And yet
    There is a hushing upon Mordred’s name
    As if it curtained secrets. Sir, I fear him;
    I cannot tell why.

ARTHUR

                       There is power in him.

BEDIVERE

    He keeps a kind of hidden confidence,
    That is a magnet to unstable men.

ARTHUR

    I never wronged him. Treason? For what cause?
    Envy’s a cause. Ambition is a cause.

        (GUENEVERE _enters_.)

    The marshals of the jousts
    That are to celebrate our victory
    Attend the King in Council.

ARTHUR

                                Say I come.

        [_Exit_ BEDIVERE.

        (_Absorbed in his own thoughts_, ARTHUR _does not notice
        the_ QUEEN.)

    I grow old, I begin to doubt and fear.
    Rather a thousand enemies that shout
    Their hate, than one that smiles behind me----

GUENEVERE (_softly_)

    Arthur!

ARTHUR

    And Launcelot gone from me! But why? I grope
    Into the silence, and find nothing.


GUENEVERE (_more loudly_)

                                        Arthur!

ARTHUR (_turning_)

    My Queen!

GUENEVERE

              You have bid me no good-morrow yet.

ARTHUR

    Good-morrow, Guenevere.

GUENEVERE (_after a pause_)

                            I think they wait you.

ARTHUR

    In time. What ails my Queen?

GUENEVERE

                                 Nothing at all.
    I am but an idle corner of your kingdom;
    You are called to graver matters.

ARTHUR

                                      Guenevere,
    If that this robe of care that now is on me
    Seem to absent my heart, take it not ill,
    You know where my heart lives. Perplexities
    Even now beset me.

        (_Murmurs without._)

GUENEVERE

                       Hark!
    Someone cried “Launcelot”! If it were he!

        (_Louder murmurs._)

    They do cry “Launcelot”!

ARTHUR

                             Can it be?

GUENEVERE

                                        It is!

ARTHUR

    The world is changed if I have Launcelot.
    Come we to meet him.

    GUENEVERE (_afraid of showing her joy_)

                         If it be ill news?

ARTHUR

    What is it ails you, Guenevere? You hear
    The joy cry in those voices. Come.

GUENEVERE

                                       Go you.

ARTHUR

    He comes, my friend, my Launcelot! It is true!

LAUNCELOT _enters and falls on his knee before_ ARTHUR. LAVAINE
_follows at a distance_.

LAUNCELOT (_kneeling_)

    My King!

ARTHUR

             My friend! Rise, look me in the face,
    That I may be assured it is my friend
    Beside me once again.

LAUNCELOT (_rising_)

                          To the last hour.
    And last drop of my blood.

ARTHUR

                               See, Guenevere,
    Our hope is havened. Our Launcelot returns.
    Whence come you? Tell me.

LAUNCELOT

    Ah, what matters whence,
    Since I am come to serve my only King?

ARTHUR

    Pale, too! I think some suffering’s written here.

LAUNCELOT

    I am but new-recovered from a wound.

ARTHUR

    In battle?

LAUNCELOT

               Nothing glorious, my King.
    I rode in the forest on a winter’s day,
    Thinking my thoughts. A misty day it was
    With a pale sun, and red leaves underfoot.
    I let my horse pace on, lost in a muse;
    But, as it chanced, a hunter in those woods
    Was shooting at the deer, and aimed so ill
    His arrow found its quarry in my side.

GUENEVERE

    Ah!

LAUNCELOT

    I fell. I knew no more. But for good hap,
    Some clown had tracked me to those muddy leaves,
    Me that had shaped a splendid field to die on--
    And found me--sorry venison----

ARTHUR

                                    Where was this?

LAUNCELOT

    In the thick woods over Astolat.

ARTHUR

                                     You fled me,
    Launcelot; and scarcely were you gone, when came
    Ill-tidings, and I had sore need of you.
    You fled me: for what cause?

LAUNCELOT

    I fled not you, my King, I fled not you--
    Ask me no more.

ARTHUR

                    Let be then;
    Keep secret what you will. You are come back:
    I’ll probe no further. Is this wound well healed?

LAUNCELOT

    There was a maid found me in that same forest,
    A maid well skilled in healing, and the daughter
    Of the old lord of Astolat. Elaine
    She is called: she won me back to life, and I
    Have brought with me her brother: he would serve
    His King, and he is worthy.
    Will it please you to receive him?

ARTHUR

                                       Surely one
    Who comes with Launcelot, and so commended,
    Shall have his full of welcome. Bring him to us;
    For many of my knights, alas! are fallen,
    And youth amends our loss.

        (LAUNCELOT _brings forward_ LAVAINE, _who kneels_.)

LAUNCELOT

                               Lavaine, your King.

ARTHUR

    Lavaine, be of our court and fellowship.
    And if you would be patterned, here is one
    To follow: have him for your heart’s ensample
    In loyalty, in love, in all that’s honour.

        [LAVAINE _bows and retires_.

    True stock. I thank you.
    Launcelot, we celebrate a joust to-morrow
    In honour of this victory we have won;
    And you must ride in it: for we were mourning
    That it should lack the star of all my knights.
    The Marshals wait me. But my Queen, no word?
    Welcome him, Guenevere. Give me your hand.

        (_Takes_ GUENEVERE’S _hand in his_.)

    Launcelot, it was you that long ago
    Saved my Queen for me, when proud Orkney’s King
    Had taken her, trapped and captive, to his tower.
    You brought her back to me: you saved her then.
    Have you forgotten?

LAUNCELOT

                        I remember it.

GUENEVERE

    What need to call that old day back to us?

ARTHUR

    Circumstance is a quicksand. If the day
    Fall on me ever when my Launcelot stands
    Not on my side----

LAUNCELOT

                       Never shall that day dawn!
    My King, I say again those words I said
    When first I vowed my fealty. By that sword
    Which made me knight, I swear me to be true.
    I will devote my body to your cause,
    I will not fail you by my hand or heart
    While breath is in me; and if I fail, be this
    My adjuration and high oath fulfilled
    In curse and condemnation on my soul.

ARTHUR

    So anchor faith in one another’s breast.

        (_Takes_ LAUNCELOT’S _hands_.)

    Guenevere, to these hands, these loyal hands,
    That never in my battle failed me yet,
    See, I commend you still. So, God be with you.

        (ARTHUR _goes out. A pause._ LAUNCELOT _fights against the
        returning passion which he thought he had conquered_.)

GUENEVERE

    Do I grow old
    And negligible? Ah, so long away
    And never a word, never a single word!
    I think that Launcelot is so long away
    He forgets Guenevere.

LAUNCELOT

                          If he remembered
    An hour when he forgot her----

GUENEVERE

                                   You are changed;
    Pale in the cheek, cold in the heart; or is it
    The young eyes of a maid, and her soft hands
    Touching you? Who is this fair maid?

LAUNCELOT

                                         My Queen,
    You heard me. Thank her, if you find it thanks
    That I am here to serve you.

GUENEVERE

                                 You are changed.
    Something, I know not what, has wrought in you.
    You are still absent from me. I hear your voice,
    But it is like the dream-voice that was all
    I had, these days of desolation. Tell me,
    Am I, too, altered?

LAUNCELOT

                        You are beautiful
    As when I first beheld you, Guenevere;
    More beautiful.

GUENEVERE

                    And you, you too, have suffered.
    You have been wounded, and I was not there.
    Ill chances happen, when you go from me.
    Why did you go from me? And there was none
    To love me.

LAUNCELOT

                Guenevere! The King----

GUENEVERE

                                        The King!
    He gives me to your hands; defends me so,
    With circumspection, like a palisade
    From far away; not with a strong right arm
    About my body and a sword in hand.
    I am but a custom and an effigy
    Robed for his realm’s observances; and he
    Remembers only that I wear a crown.
    He is as far from me as the night stars.
    I cannot touch him, cannot wound him.

LAUNCELOT

                                          Queen,
    I love him. Speak not so.

GUENEVERE

                              I am alone,
    And there is none to love me.

LAUNCELOT

                                  Here am I,
    With my sword, with my blood, every last drop
    Of blood that’s in my body, and it is yours.

GUENEVERE

    And yet you left me--left me to Mordred’s mercy.
    I am afraid of Mordred, Launcelot.
    He has barbed your very absence; whispers that you
    Fled from a rumour grown too dangerous
    Because you dared not fight against the truth--
    Ah, now you put your hand upon your sword--
    Yes, even this. He has been diligent,
    Has Agravaine, his brother, at his side.
    And Colegrevance has joined them, with his friends
    Patrice and Mador; and these go about
    Shrugging suspicion at me, breathing hints
    Foul as a fog about my name.

LAUNCELOT

                                 Vile traitors!
    Mordred plays deep then, and makes power about him.
    I fear that he is falser than you dream.
    The rumour runs that treachery was at work
    Conniving with these rebels in the North.
    My life upon the hazard, it was he.
    The Queen is but a pawn in Mordred’s game
    That plays--who knows?--for kinship. Guenevere,
    This poison that he brews and breathes abroad
    Is but to start dissension round the King
    And split the realm in two. But that my Queen
    Should suffer torture for his use! The traitor!
    If this impalpable fog could take a shape,
    A body--there before me--a throat to strangle,
    A breast to strike at and to kill!

GUENEVERE

                                       Ah, now
    I have a shield and a sword--what care I now
    For the world’s evil tongues? You are come back,
    And spring is in the sky. Is it not sweet
    To taste and feel? The blue sky, the warm air,
    Trembling among the young leaves. Now I feel
    As when we went a-Maying in the woods
    Together and alone. Pluck me a flower.
    There at the window one peeps in.

        (LAUNCELOT _brings her a rose. She caresses his hand._)

                                      So sad?
    So sad still? Come into the golden sun.
    Look, every small shoot thrills up to the light.
    Smell the sweet rose upon its thorny briar.

LAUNCELOT

    Sweet as old hours remembered.

GUENEVERE (_very softly_)

                                   Sweet as those
    To come.

LAUNCELOT (_madly embracing her_)

             Ah, Guenevere, to suffer so.
    I am yours, yours, only yours--(_abruptly breaking away_)--O God,
      have pity!

GUENEVERE

    Why should we not take what there is of joy,
    So little as there is, so little?

LAUNCELOT

    Guenevere, I have sworn. There’s burning fire
    Between us.

        (_Pushes her from him._)

GUENEVERE

                Where is your joy gone?
    In what strange countries have you been from me?
    This--this is not the Launcelot I knew.

LAUNCELOT

    That Launcelot must die. Think of him slain,
    As in my anguish I have fought to slay him!
    Where have I been?
    I have been down in the darkness, near great Death.
    I have had dreams upon my fever-bed,
    Trances that touched the mortal sense of Time
    To nothing; and Eternity looked in
    To the inmost of my soul,
    There seemed no lifting of a hand but had
    Its shadow vast in heaven----

GUENEVERE

                                  We are sinners all.
    Put these black dreams behind you----

LAUNCELOT

                                          And no deed
    But, like a wave that writes upon the sand
    Ebbed from its naked witness, I remembered
    What in the fault and soilure of our nature
    I have wrought amiss. Guenevere, I am afraid
    To see my very self, as God sees it.

GUENEVERE

    That is God’s business. He has made us flesh.
    When we are spirits, and in the world of spirits,
    It may be then that we shall ache no more,
    Nor hunger for a voice, a touch, a kiss;
    But while this wine of earth is in my veins,
    I hunger. Had I sought for happiness,
    Should I have chosen love? But it was Love
    Chose me, and all my soul is dyed in yours,
    I cannot be a separate self----

LAUNCELOT

                                    Nor I.
    Guenevere, when this body is in the grave,
    My very dust will turn and yearn to you.
    As the seed springs and shoots up through the earth,
    So shall I come to you.

GUENEVERE

                            But now, but now,
    Have you no joy of me?

LAUNCELOT (_as if no word were stranger_)

                           Joy?

GUENEVERE

                                Do you keep
    Your passion for the dust and for the grave?
    Oh, you grow weary, say the truth at last,
    For a young hand has touched you.

LAUNCELOT

                                      Guenevere!

GUENEVERE

    Why did you leave me?

LAUNCELOT

                          I was afraid.

GUENEVERE

                                        The truth.

LAUNCELOT

    I thought to pluck you from my heart: and if
    Sharp stone or cutting steel could do it, I’d
    Have spared no agony. But stone nor steel
    Can root what’s part of every breath I breathe.
    Though I should stamp on it, it flowers again
    And looks like innocence. I fled from love
    That was too strong for me.

GUENEVERE

                                And fled to her.
    I see you changed, and she has wrought the change.
    Insulter, mocking me with sick pretence
    And virtuous aversions. Love! You love!
    The burning name is ashes in your mouth.
    You are weary, you are weary, you are weary!
    You’ll none of me, and I’ll have none of you,
    I’ll choose another for my sword and shield
    Not you--that are but words.

        [_She rushes out in great anger._

LAUNCELOT

    Didst thou make woman, God,
    As thou hast made fire, earthquake, and sea-storm,
    To raise a beauty of terror and overthrow
    Great realms and reason’s self? Comes she again,
    The flame is on the wind and I am straw.
    I’m in the net. Oh for an enemy
    To hurl at! Dogs, would they betray their King,
    Shatter that dearest jewel of his life,
    This realm; make me their poisoned instrument,
    And in the crash drag down into the dirt,
    O infamy!--my Queen?
    Get to your work, Mordred; prime your crew;
    Hatch your plot! Still I have my word to say.
    If no way else avails I’ll take me hence
    To my own country, and you shall stretch your hands
    To grasp at nothing. Well,
    Whatever comes, I have a sword that’s clean.




THIRD SCENE

_Astolat. A room with a low seat by a window at the back, as in Scene
I._

SIR BERNARD _and_ TORRE _stand watching_ ELAINE, _who sleeps by the
window. They talk in low tones._

TORRE

See how she is wasted. If you lift her hand, it is as light as a leaf,
and she shakes with the beating of her heart. He has cast a spell on
her, bewitched her.

SIR BERNARD

I would I had that balm, whatever country bears it, that should refresh
my child.

TORRE

Twice has she started from her sleep crying: “It is he! It is he!”

SIR BERNARD

Alas, that her mother is dead. What should an old man do against love?


TORRE

Love? It is madness.

SIR BERNARD

Love is madness.

TORRE

It is not nature.

SIR BERNARD

Nature makes this blossom red in the young heart, and cares not whether
it be sweet or bitter.

TORRE

She is a child.

SIR BERNARD

An hour has made her older than the world. I would that Sir Launcelot
had never seen her, or that seeing her he had loved her.

TORRE (_indignant_)

Father!

SIR BERNARD

I would he had loved her.

TORRE

How can you say it? A man fouled with sin. If God strike him not for
this, I will say there is no God.

SIR BERNARD

Who can tell men’s hearts? Sir Launcelot, I doubt, will bring me to the
grave. And yet he was a noble knight.

TORRE

A villain.

SIR BERNARD

He has sinned, it may be, yet we knew him and found him noble.

TORRE

I know what he has done--the traitor.

SIR BERNARD

Anger will not move love. Let us rather pray to God that He may change
her heart and bring her through pain to peace.

TORRE

My heart is too hot. I will go to the Court. I will challenge Sir
Launcelot to the death. I will fling my glove in his face and call him
what he is.

SIR BERNARD

Softly. She is moving.

ELAINE (_suddenly_)

Hark.

TORRE

What is it?

ELAINE

It is a rider.

TORRE

I heard nothing.

ELAINE

He is coming. He is coming. I can hear his step on the stair.
Launcelot!

TORRE

I hear nothing but the blackbird in the sycamore. (ELAINE _falls
back_.) See, sister Elaine, it is May. The thorn-boughs are white.
Shall we go a-Maying in the woods? Just as we used?

ELAINE

Let me die now. Since Sir Launcelot will not come to me, I must go to
him.

SIR BERNARD

Child, my child, put away the thoughts of earth.

ELAINE

Dear father, I am an earthly woman, and love an earthly man. Is it so
great an offence to love? I hope God may pardon me, since I have borne
such pains. But if He will not pardon, I cannot help my love.

SIR BERNARD

I beseech you, Elaine, think not on Sir Launcelot any more.

ELAINE

I was called “The Fair Maid of Astolat ...”; but that has helped me
nothing.... Is Torre here?

TORRE

I am here, sister.

ELAINE

I have something to ask of you, Torre.

TORRE

Ask anything, sister, dear sister.

ELAINE

Write me a letter, Torre.

TORRE

A letter?

ELAINE

Get paper and pen. (TORRE _gets paper and pen_.) I will tell you the
words. Write!

TORRE (_suspicious_)

Is it to him?

ELAINE

Whom else?

TORRE

Sister, I cannot.

ELAINE

You do not love me, Torre.

TORRE

I would give you my life, but do not ask me this.

ELAINE

It is the last thing I shall ask.

SIR BERNARD

Do as she wishes, son.

TORRE (_after an effort_)

Tell me the words.

ELAINE

“Most noble Launcelot ... I was your lover, though you would not
love me. (TORRE _forces himself to write_.) You would not love me,
and therefore I can endure no longer. I was called the Fair Maid of
Astolat, and yet I was not loved. So I make my lament to all fair
ladies and to the Queen Guenevere. Sir Launcelot, since you would not
come to me, now come I to you. Bury this my body that is dead for love
of you....”

TORRE

Elaine, dear sister, do not speak so--you shall not die.

ELAINE

It is not finished, Torre. Write.

TORRE

No, no.

ELAINE

There is so little time. Write. “This is the last thing that I ask of
you that would not love me. And, Sir Launcelot, as you are a knight
peerless, pray for my soul.” Is it written?

TORRE

It is written.

ELAINE

All?

TORRE

All.

ELAINE

Prop my head a little ... Father! Where are you, father?

SIR BERNARD

I am here, child.

ELAINE

The letter! While I am still warm, put it in my hand. Bind it there,
father, bind it fast.

SIR BERNARD

It shall be done.

ELAINE

And when I am cold, clothe me in the fairest dress I have. Put me on
the barge.

SIR BERNARD

On the barge?

ELAINE

Let old Simon, dumb Simon, take me, and steer downstream to Thames. So
I shall come to him.

SIR BERNARD

It shall be done. You know I never said “Nay” to your desire, little
daughter. Perhaps it was not wisdom.

ELAINE

Is the day nearly done?

SIR BERNARD

Yes, child, the sun is sinking behind the great trees.

ELAINE

The flowers are falling....

TORRE

Elaine!

SIR BERNARD

She does not hear us. She does not know us any longer.

TORRE

What is she saying?

ELAINE

The rushes are gliding, the rushes are gliding. The water, the water!
The flowers are falling upon me.

TORRE

Oh, father, will she really die? She, so young.

SIR BERNARD

She will die because she is so young. We that are old, we endure.




FOURTH SCENE

_Westminster. A vast circular banqueting hall with steps to the river
in front. The hall is hidden at first with heavy curtains so that only
the stairs are seen._ LAVAINE _by the river steps, leaning pensive on
the balustrade_.

_Enter_ GARETH _and_ GAHERIS _arm in arm_.

GARETH

    Who’s yonder?

GAHERIS

                  Our new courtier, young Lavaine.

GARETH

    Stolen apart to admire his blushing looks
    In the dark water.

LAVAINE (_turning_)

                       Gaheris! Ah, and Gareth!
    Are you for the banquet?

GARETH

                             Come, Narcissus, come;
    And you shall find a mirror more attractive
    In ladies’ eyes.

LAVAINE

    My thoughts strayed up the river to my home.
    I wondered when the ripple that I watched
    Went by our cowslip meadows. Months it seems
    Since I was there.

GAHERIS

                       Soon they will be acclaiming
    Your feats and praises in the joust, Lavaine.

LAVAINE

    I did but follow where Sir Launcelot led.

GARETH

    A good road that.

GAHERIS

                      How furiously he fought!

MORDRED _enters through curtains. He pauses a moment; then goes off at
side._

GARETH

    There’s one he toppled down.

LAVAINE

                                 What prince is that?

GAHERIS

    Mordred.

GARETH

             No friend to Launcelot, nor to us.

LAVAINE

    Then none to me.

GARETH

                     Hush! He is dangerous.

GAHERIS

    There are black bruises under those fine silks,
    I’ll swear. How hard Sir Launcelot struck!

GARETH

                                               The Queen
    Should have been there to see him.

GAHERIS

                                       It is strange:
    He wore a lady’s favour, a red sleeve.

GARETH

    And never in his life wore such a badge.

GAHERIS

    None will dare ask his secret.

LAVAINE

                                   The red sleeve?
    It is my sister’s. She prevailed on him
    To wear it for her sake.

GAHERIS

                             Your sister’s? Ah!

        (_The brothers exchange looks._ MORDRED _reappears with_
        AGRAVAINE.)

GARETH

    Mordred again! And Agravaine with him.

GAHERIS (_to_ LAVAINE)

    His brother.

GARETH

                 And both dangerous.

        (_Music sounds within._)

GAHERIS

                                     Let’s be quit.

GARETH

    Hark! There’s the music.

        (_The young men bow ceremoniously as they pass in to_
        MORDRED _and_ AGRAVAINE, _who come down to the steps and
        begin talking hurriedly_.)
AGRAVAINE

    What do you want of me?

MORDRED

                            A private word
    Before the banquet. I have news to-night.
    These headstrong rebels chafing in the West
    Are grown impatient. If we act not quickly
    They’ll doubt my power. I have promised them too much.

AGRAVAINE

    Good. Then we strike and kill this Launcelot.

MORDRED

                                                  Fool,
    To glut your appetite, you’d lose the world.

AGRAVAINE

    What is the scheme, then, that shall better it?

MORDRED

    I stake my first throw on this feast to-night.
    The Queen is vext and in her stormy mood,
    For that she feigned a sickness in excuse
    To absent her from the jousts. Now when she’s tinder
    To any chance fire--words can strike a spark;
    Watch me for that--her secret may be out
    Before she know it.

AGRAVAINE

                     You are too cunning, Mordred.

MORDRED

                                                   The King will not believe
    Without stark proof. But he shall have it. Listen.
    I have a fellow, silent as the snow,
    Who watches; he is soft on Launcelot’s steps,
    And Launcelot’s a moth that cannot choose
    But flit to the candle. There’s a secret way
    To the Queen’s chamber, cunningly contrived;
    Since Launcelot went, I have found it. Soon or late
    We trap him; it may be this very night.

AGRAVAINE

    Stark proof for the King!

MORDRED

                              Nail that into his soul
    Red-hot as searing iron the flesh;
    Then what a weapon is a righteous cause!
    He will be just. King Arthur is most just.
    But when the gall is in him, when he has smelt
    The wormwood up into his brain, and dyed
    His very dreams black--Launcelot shall be banished,
    And half of Arthur’s bravest go with him:
    Or Launcelot defies him: either way
    The realm’s in pieces; and my hour is come.

AGRAVAINE

    Mordred, you are a devil.

MORDRED

    On the instant we make certain of the King
    And Launcelot’s sentence, post we to the West.
    There from our vantage we can launch our powers
    Ripe to the moment, and the throne is mine.

AGRAVAINE

    I’d liefer have my steel in Launcelot’s heart.

MORDRED

    Calm now; no hot words, and no hasty hand
    Flying to the sword-hilt! Watch me and the Queen.
    Wine shall be drunk to-night, and with the wine,
    It may be, the truth spilt upon the floor!

        (_Curtains draw back and disclose the Round Table spread
        for a banquet. The knights are already assembling._ MORDRED
        _and his brother joins them. Harpists attending._)

MORDRED

    Good evening to Sir Gawaine!

GAWAINE

                                 You are gay,
    Sir Mordred.

MORDRED

                 Why not? Bright eyes match a feast.
    Have you no smiles?

GAWAINE

                        What have you heard?

MORDRED

                                             I? Nothing.

GAWAINE

    I hear the King sits not at table with us.

MORDRED

    Indeed? For what cause?

GAWAINE

                            There came news to-night.

MORDRED

    Ill news?

GAWAINE

              Who knows? News from the West, Mordred.

MORDRED

    Is trouble afoot there, too? But all’s secure,
    Now we have Launcelot back. Is he not here?

GAWAINE

    He is with the King.

MORDRED

                         But I see friends of his.
    Greeting to you, Sir Bors, and you, Sir Kay.

AGRAVAINE (_to_ COLEGREVANCE)

    Colegrevance, be wary.

COLEGREVANCE (_going apart with him_)

                           What’s afoot?

AGRAVAINE

        (_They whisper together._)

                                         Be wary.

_Enter_ BEDIVERE

BEDIVERE

    I come straight from the King: the Queen to-night
    Presides for him. Lucan, array the guests.
    The Queen approaches.

        (_The guests arrange themselves. Harps. The_ QUEEN _enters
        attended by her ladies. All are standing._)

GUENEVERE

    Welcome and salutation to you all.
    Our banquet loses what it least should lose
    On such a day as this; my lord the King
    Had thought to celebrate his feast with those
    That bore his banners into victory:
    But sudden cares absent him. Pray, be seated.
    Your Queen is honoured being in his place.
    Brave knights, my welcome,
    A Queen’s dear welcome. Glad am I, Sir Gawaine,
    To greet the legend of the land for valour,
    Proud in unchampioned causes;
    And you, Sir Mordred, far-seeing in counsel;
    Sir Bedivere, our sovereign’s pillar of trust;
    Sir Kay, Sir Bors, Sir Agravaine, Sir Lucan,
    Sir Colegrevance----Is not Sir Launcelot here?

SIR KAY (_to a lady_)

    Go, tell Sir Launcelot the Queen asks for him.

GUENEVERE

    Welcome to you, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris.
    Never a Queen
    Had round her such array of peers renowned
    In arms and courtesy.

GAWAINE

                          Most royal Queen!

MORDRED

    The honour that you do us dumbs our speech.

        (_The_ QUEEN _seats herself upon a raised daïs at the back.
        All take their seats and the banquet begins. Each knight is
        attended by his squire._)

GUENEVERE

    I grieve my sickness robbed me of yesterday’s
    Great jousts: I had thought to glory in them, and joy
    In the prowess of antagonists so noble.

BEDIVERE

    Our grief it was, your presence shone not on us.

BORS

    Ah, Madam, had you seen Sir Launcelot there!

KAY

    He never rode so terrible a course
    In all his days.

BEDIVERE

                     There was no man could stand
    Against the fury of his setting on.

COLEGREVANCE

    Why, all men have their lucky day.

KAY

                                       And this
    Was not denoted in your stars.

COLEGREVANCE

                                   For me
    These jousts are toys.
    What comfort’s in a partridge to good hunger?
    Give me a pasty royally bastioned, stuffed
    For siege, a challenge to the assault; and give me
    Battle’s reality, not miming spears.
    When the blood’s up and runs hot in the veins
    Then you shall see these hands of mine at work,
    Not play.

KAY

              And yet methought the blood was up,
    When Launcelot bore you down.

MORDRED

                                  Ah, yesterday
    Launcelot was an army, not a man.

AGRAVAINE

    It seems he is too weary with his feats
    To grace this royal table!

GUENEVERE

                               Dear my lords,
    I raise a cup to your good fellowship.
    If, as may chance, the semblance of division
    Or the beginning of an enmity
    Set any of you askance at one another,
    Let it be melted in this cordial wine.
    Shall it not? If a word has flown, forget it,
    If any old wound be open, let it close,
    And mould to-night your fellowship anew.
    Drink with me all: “King Arthur’s fellowship!”

        (_The knights, rising, respond with a great shout. Deep
        horns sound a flourish._)

ALL KNIGHTS

    “King Arthur’s fellowship.”

GAWAINE

    You speak to loyal hearts.

LADY (_returning_)

                               King Arthur, Madam,
    Takes private counsel of Sir Launcelot,
    Who prays to be excused.

GUENEVERE

                             As the King wills.

BORS

    It seems new strife is hatching in the West.

BEDIVERE

    These rats gnaw at our realm on every side.

GAWAINE

    So we shall soon be horsed----

GARETH

                                   And in the field.

GAHERIS

    Lavaine, there shall be spurs to win.

AGRAVAINE

                                          These rebels
    Renown us not. There’s not a knight among them.

KAY

    Enough for Colegrevance to flesh his steel.

        (_A laugh from_ LAUNCELOT’S _friends_)

MORDRED

    While we go to the wars, ladies lament.

BORS

    What, ladies, Mordred?

MORDRED

                           Breaker of hearts, so modest?
    I thought Sir Launcelot’s comrades boasted more
    Of sighs than trophies. As for me and mine----

COLEGREVANCE

    We are blunt men-at-arms.

MORDRED

                              But you, Sir Bors;
    If I were not discreeter than the dusk----

        (_A laugh from_ MORDRED’S _followers_.)

GUENEVERE

    Friends, of your charity!

MORDRED

                              I say no more.

GUENEVERE

    Your tongues speak trippingly of breaking hearts,
    Yet of your courtesy remember this:
    A woman has no armour, has no sword;
    And absent, how shall she defend herself?
    If tongues be sharp with malice,
    A woman must be silent. If defamers
    Stab at her honour in the dark--why, still
    She must be silent. I am a woman, a Queen;
    And yet, how can I fight with evil tongues?
    I count you all as friends, all of you here;
    And if your Queen on any day should need
    Armour and sword, she gives to you her honour;
    The dearest thing she has she gives to you.

GAWAINE

    Now may the lightning scorch the lips that made
    Our loyal oaths, if we forget. In peace
    As in the hour of peril, we are yours
    In service absolute; and we will shed
    Our bosom’s last blood to defend our Queen.
    Do I not speak for all?

BEDIVERE (_raising his cup_)

                            For all! The Queen!

ALL KNIGHTS

    We pledge her.

GAWAINE

                   Sword and life!

ALL KNIGHTS

                                   Hail to the Queen!

BORS

    To the most gracious lady in the land!

LUCAN

    To the glory of this isle!

KAY

                               The Western star!

MORDRED

    The radiant rose of Britain and the world!

GAWAINE

    Happily spoken. Mordred hits the mark:
    “The radiant rose of Britain and the world.”

ALL KNIGHTS

    The radiant rose of Britain and the world.

        (_A great flourish from the horns._)

GUENEVERE

    Thanks to you all, thanks from my heart that glows
    Great in my bosom to be pledged so queenly,
    To have such praises like a crown upon me
    More golden than this circlet; for I feel
    Your voices are like swords upon my side
    Flashing about me.
    Sir Mordred, specially I thank you, since
    Too seldom have we seen you grace our table.
    Honour us more!

MORDRED

                    I am honoured past desert.
    Let me again pledge that most royal beauty
    Dimming the fame of queens dead and renowned.
    Drink yet again, knights, to our Queen.

ALL KNIGHTS

                                            Our Queen!

        (_Another flourish._)

MORDRED

    Yet something, give me pardon, something lacks
    Your feast, Queen Guenevere.

GUENEVERE

                                 Speak your desire.
    I blame my entertainment that it lacks----

MORDRED

    Sir Launcelot!

GUENEVERE

                   I have word the King requires him
    In council.

MORDRED

                A light is wanting by your side
    When Launcelot is absent. You have spoken
    Of the division that an envy breeds.
    Lives one who envies not Sir Launcelot?
    If it be fault,
    I must confess to it. Fame he has and love,
    And therefore stands the envy of the world.
    Where is the man’s hand can prevail against him,
    Or where the heart of woman?
    When in the bright lists Launcelot rode on me
    How was I dazzled? Not by him alone;
    I marvelled at the red sleeve which he wore,
    Beauty’s proud badge. That smote me in the eyes.
    My Queen, it was your red sleeve conquered me.

GUENEVERE

    A red sleeve? Launcelot?

MORDRED

                             Knights,
    Red wine to the red sleeve! (_A pause._)
    Does no one drink? Have I said aught amiss?

GUENEVERE

    What does Sir Mordred rave of?

BEDIVERE

                                   Queen, excuse.
    It is but some extravagance of phrase.

LAVAINE (_shyly_)

    Sirs,
    This red sleeve is my sister’s.

MORDRED

                                    Not the Queen’s?

        (_A pause._)

COLEGREVANCE

    Out of the mouth of babes!

MORDRED

                               Oh, pardon me
    If in my innocence I have offended.

GUENEVERE

    Sir Launcelot wore a red sleeve yesterday?
    And this sleeve was your sister’s?

LAVAINE

                                       Yes, my Queen.
    She supplicated him to wear it.

GUENEVERE

                                    She
    Has healed him of his wound. For gratitude
    He could have done naught else.

MORDRED

                                    But this is marvel.
    Never did Launcelot take such badge before
    Of any lady. More than gratitude
    This surely meant.

GAWAINE

                       Mordred, the Queen has spoken.
    You slight her word.

MORDRED

                         Nay, for the Queen must joy
    With all her knights in so surpassing news.
    We shall see Launcelot bring to Court at last
    A bride.
    Sirs, drink with me to Launcelot and his bride!

AGRAVAINE, COLEGREVANCE, PATRICE, AND MADOR

    To Launcelot and his bride!

GUENEVERE

    I also drink to Launcelot’s fair bride.
    And now, sirs, I will pray you pardon me.
    (_To_ SIR LUCAN) Sir Lucan, bid my woman to attend me.

        (_Pause._)

GAWAINE (_in a low voice_)

    Mordred, this marring of the feast is yours.

MORDRED

    I spoke but praises.

GAWAINE

                         Honey, dropping venom.

AGRAVAINE

    Gawaine, you are ever shaping taunts at us.

BEDIVERE

    Sirs, sirs, the Queen!

MORDRED

    I spoke no word but what should honour her.

BORS

    Sir Mordred, we
    That are the friends of Launcelot know not you
    So fond a lover of his fame; so pardon
    If phrases of such fashion seemed to taste ...
    I say no more. Yet be assured, if ill
    Be meant to Launcelot, rue to him that means it.

COLEGREVANCE

    A threat! By Uther’s beard, we’ll not be threatened.

MORDRED

    Colegrevance, be still.
    What said the Queen. Accord old feuds, be friends.
    Which of us now shows her obedience?

KAY

    Were Launcelot here----

AGRAVAINE

                            Launcelot, Launcelot!
    Must we be ever plagued with Launcelot?

BORS

    Yesterday, Agravaine, you had some cause.

        (_A laugh from_ LAUNCELOT’S _friends_.)

AGRAVAINE

    I defy you all.

BEDIVERE

                    The Queen!

AGRAVAINE

                               The Queen, it seems,
    Has bidden us to be gibed at.

MORDRED

                                  Peace, sirs, peace.
    The Queen bade us be merry.
    I ask your pardon if I spoke amiss,
    I marvel that a sleeve, a mere red sleeve----

GAWAINE, BEDIVERE, BORS, KAY

                                                  Mordred!

GUENEVERE (_rising in wrath_)

    Unmannerly dastard!

        (_Pause and a low laugh from_ AGRAVAINE.)

                        Nay, forgive me, sirs;
    I am not all recovered from my sickness:
    Pardon me if I leave you; stir not. Come.

        [_Exit with ladies._

GAWAINE (_after a pause, to_ MORDRED)

    What devil pricked your tongue to speak of that?

MORDRED

    Why should I not?...
    Were it not injury to think such thoughts
    I would say----

GAWAINE

                    To your meaning, and be done.

MORDRED (_slowly_)

    I would say Gawaine hints of some dishonour,
    Some secret that must not be told abroad.
    Would Gawaine say the Queen
    Is jealous because Launcelot----

GAWAINE

                                     Slanderer!

MORDRED

    It was not I that hinted.

LAVAINE

                              The red sleeve,
    I tell you again, Sir Mordred, was my sister’s.
    For Elaine’s sake and in mere courtesy
    Sir Launcelot wore it.

MORDRED

                           Needs the Queen these defenders?

COLEGREVANCE

    What fool boy’s talk is this? A paramour
    The more, say I.

AGRAVAINE

                     False to one, false to all.

LAVAINE

    Liar!

AGRAVAINE

          I will have blood for that.

COLEGREVANCE

                                      And I.

BEDIVERE

    For shame! Be silent. Here in the King’s hall!

AGRAVAINE

    Off, masks! We have slobbered phrases long enough.
    The Queen confessed, you know it by her eye
    And cheek of flame that spoke clear as a trumpet
    “Launcelot is mine! None else shall have his love
    While I have breath and can deceive the King.”
    Shall the King be deceived?

BORS

                                Drag him away!

AGRAVAINE

    To the King!

COLEGREVANCE, MADOR, PATRICE

    To the King!

BEDIVERE, LUCAN, KAY, BORS

    To the King? No.

GAWAINE

    Silence! To the King? And shame
    The very floor we stand on? To the King,
    And with what pitiable pretext? Why,
    But that the wine is flown into your brains,
    What colour is in this tale? The morning air
    Will blow it into nothing.

AGRAVAINE

                               That we’ll see.

BEDIVERE

    Mordred, you vowed devotion to the Queen.

MORDRED

    I have said naught against her.

BORS

                                    Hypocrite!

AGRAVAINE

    Do you dare insult my brother?

LUCAN

                                   Are Britain’s peers
    Grown tavern brawlers?

KAY

                           Launcelot shall hear you
    And prove upon your bodies that you lie.

AGRAVAINE

    The truth is out, and Launcelot shall die
    For all his champions.

PATRICE

                           Come we to the King.

BEDIVERE

    Are knightly vows then turned to drunkards’ oaths?

KAY

    Is loyalty in the gutter?

GAWAINE

                              Shame on all
    If one word come to the King’s ear of this.

BEDIVERE

    And with this hubbub we affront the Queen
    Most shamefully. Remove we all, at once.

        (_The knights pass out in great turmoil_, MORDRED
        _lingering last_.)

MORDRED

    I have pulled the sluice. Now let the torrent stream.

        [_Exit._

GUENEVERE _enters with one of her women_.

GUENEVERE

    Sir Launcelot, have you found him?

WOMAN

    He is here.

        (GUENEVERE _dismisses the woman with a gesture_. LAUNCELOT
        _enters, grave and preoccupied_.)

LAUNCELOT

    My Queen!

GUENEVERE

    Perjurer! The truth leaps to light at last!
    Ah God, Launcelot, that I trusted you,
    Loved you with such a love, such a mad love,
    So weak! But now my heart turns into hate
    And all my blood into one river of scorn.
    Oh, that I were the lightning and could strike
    To the false heart of you; there, there,
    Behind the lips that vowed me endless love
    To the false heart that laughed those vows away,
    False as the sea, cruel and false with smiles
    And sighs and perjured protestation.

LAUNCELOT

                                         Queen!

GUENEVERE

    Who fills your secret bosom, fires your thought?
    Who speeds her champion’s onset in the lists?
    Not I, but she whose dear red sleeve you wore.

LAUNCELOT

    Guenevere, hear me!

GUENEVERE

                        A milky-hearted maid,
    A tender maid, the maid of Astolat,
    She for whose sake you did what never yet
    You did for any woman. And you came
    Fresh from her clasp, and her cold kiss, to me!
    Get to her, haste to her.
    Run to that adoration of meek eyes----

LAUNCELOT

    Guenevere, Guenevere! you are much deceived.

GUENEVERE

    Deceived indeed! Ah, did you ever love?
    Is all that sweetness, ah God, all that seemed
    So sweet, it tortures me to think of it,
    Ashes and dust? Horrible! Now I know
    Why you came sainted and exalted back--
    Loyalty and compunction on your lips,
    But in your heart a love you dared not own.
    It is this girl that’s changed you. Go to her!

LAUNCELOT

    I am not changed, my Queen. It is you change.

GUENEVERE

    I?

LAUNCELOT

       Has some devil entered into you
    That you rave slander?
    Speak not, for you shall hear me. You have wronged
    One that you know not, and me too you wrong
    That never loved any but you, have spent
    Blood for you, fought for you, have many times
    Been in death’s peril for you, and would to God,
    If so I am requited, would to God
    That I had never loved.

GUENEVERE

                            Ah, you have said it.

LAUNCELOT

    I love her not, you know it.

GUENEVERE

                                 Yet you wore
    Her sleeve, her favour.

LAUNCELOT

                            What I did, I did
    For pity, and for the shielding of your name.
    I would not wear your favour for that cause.

GUENEVERE

    And yet you never did so much for love.

LAUNCELOT

    She had won me back from death. How otherwise
    Could I requite her, since I could not love?
    So earnestly she asked me for that boon.

GUENEVERE

    It was a token to the world you loved her.
    You had no thought of me, never a thought.

LAUNCELOT

    Rack me no more! Day and night, night and day,
    The image of your eyes and voice and hair
    Burns me; you are twisted in my heart strings, I have sought
    To cut love from my bosom, but I cannot,
    I cannot; and because it saps, divides,
    Undoes this realm, and wrongs the King I love--
    Never can I enough repent that wrong----

GUENEVERE

    Ah, false and faithless, you will go to her.

        (_At the height of this scene, suddenly from the right a
        barge appears with the body of_ ELAINE _upon it. It is
        steered by a very old dumb servant. It glides very slowly
        to the steps which lead down to the river._ LAUNCELOT
        _alone sees it first_.)

GUENEVERE

    What comes into your eyes and sends you pale?

LAUNCELOT

    Is it a vision?

    GUENEVERE (_to the steersman_)

    Whom do you bring, cold on her bier, so strangely?
    (_To_ LAUNCELOT) Why does he speak no word?

LAUNCELOT

                                                What need of words?

GUENEVERE

    Is it she?

LAUNCELOT

               Yes.

GUENEVERE

                    What have you done to her?

LAUNCELOT

    Speak! Can you answer nothing?

        (_The steersman signs that he is deaf and dumb_)

                                   He is dumb.

        (_The steersman points to the letter_)

GUENEVERE

    There is a folded paper in her hand.

        (LAUNCELOT _steps into the barge, and unties the letter and
        reads it_.)

LAUNCELOT

    “Most noble Launcelot, I was your lover, though
    you would not love me. You could not love me,
    and therefore I can endure no longer. I was
    called the Fair Maid of Astolat, and yet I was not
    loved. So I make my lament to all fair ladies,
    and to the Queen Guenevere. Sir Launcelot,
    since you would not come to me, now come I to
    you. Bury this my body that is dead for love of
    you. This is the last thing that I ask of you
    who would not love me. And, Sir Launcelot, as
    you are a knight peerless, pray for my soul.”

ARTHUR _appears, entering slowly_

ARTHUR

    What wonder’s here?

LAUNCELOT

                        The wonder of a death;
    The wonder and the beauty and the sorrow.

ARTHUR

    Who is this maid?

LAUNCELOT

                      One that loved overmuch;
    It is Elaine.

ARTHUR

                  The maid of Astolat
    That healed your wound? How comes she dead?

LAUNCELOT

                                                Read here.

        (ARTHUR _reads the letter to himself_.)

GUENEVERE (_Gliding away with bowed head_)

    Pardon, pardon, pardon!

ARTHUR

    Is love so terrible? I did not know.
    I would that you had married her.

LAUNCELOT

                                      I could not.

ARTHUR

    Why, Launcelot?

LAUNCELOT

                    I could not,
    Love cannot be constrained. Love must be free.
    Where love is bound, it breaks free.

ARTHUR

                                         It breaks free
    Where it is bound. Bound, and breaks free! Think you
    That other women can love like to this?

LAUNCELOT

    Doubt it not.

ARTHUR

                  Even to death?

LAUNCELOT

                                 Even to death.

        (_A pause, each thinking his own thoughts._)

ARTHUR

    It is as if a flame had leapt from her
    And stung me in the brain.
    Lives such a world of fire in Guenevere
    And I have never known it?
    She is smiling, yet she suffered even to death.
    Heart of a woman! Is a realm so strong,
    Armies, or battlements? Is faith? Is justice?

LAUNCELOT

    I pray you let me go apart awhile
    For I am charged with a burial.

ARTHUR (_with a change of tone_)

                                    Be it so,
    There’s something hidden from me. Why that clamour
    And then the silence when I came among them?
    (_Going away, he turns_) Launcelot, I have trusted you.

LAUNCELOT

                                                            My King,
    Trust me still.

        [ARTHUR _goes out_.

    There’s no end now but exile, I must hence,
    Back with to-morrow’s dawn to my own land,
    To Brittany. (_He motions to the steersman, and
    steps into the barge._)
                      Steer down the stream, and I
    Will bring you to that place
    Where this must leave the light.
    Have mercy, Jesu, on that wounded heart!
    Give me a soul so constant, flight so straight!
    Some angel of compassion bear her now
    Where innocence may haven, far from me!
    Steer on!

        (_The barge passes down stream._)




FIFTH SCENE

_The_ QUEEN’S _tower. Night. At the back a bolted door. At one side
a prie-dieu, with a footstool before it. A single lamp burning on a
tripod._ GUENEVERE _stands by a window, holding the curtain and peering
out_.

GUENEVERE

    It has not moved.... It’s nothing; fancy’s fever,
    That shapes the shadows into forms of fear!
    And yet there is a shadow among those shadows,
    And I could swear that shadow had human eyes,
    Watching. It stirs not. Is it a tree-stem
    Gives body to the dark? No tree was there.

        (_She drops the curtain._)

    Can someone have found out the secret way
    And even now be spying on Launcelot?
    Pray Heaven he comes not! Why is the air so still
    With such a mortal stillness?
    There’s the owl again, crying, and there again!
    As if it knew the secret of the night
    And called me warning notes. Was that a step?
    I am all imagination and sick scares;
    And that dead face returns, ever returns--
    Elaine’s face, smiling cold upon her bier.
    She burnt her very heart out. Yet her face
    Had peace on it, and joy! Dead! Did she love
    Better than I?

        (_She looks out again._)

    It has not moved. It must be fear’s invention.

        (_She throws herself before the Virgin’s image._)

    Mother of God, Mother.... She is dead;
    And yet she triumphs and she humbles me.
    I _will_ pray. O thou seven-times wounded one,
    Because thou didst so suffer, look on me;
    Look in my heart, thou hadst a bleeding heart;
    Thou knowest how I sinned, but how I suffer....
    I cannot pray. I only see that face
    Dead, with the joy on it. I want, I want----

LAUNCELOT _enters with a cloak wrapped about his head_

    Who is it?

    LAUNCELOT (_showing his face_)

    I. I came the secret way.
    I come from burying the dead. Elaine
    Is laid in earth. She sleeps. I have no sleep.

GUENEVERE

    Hush!

        (_She goes to the window_)

          It is gone!

LAUNCELOT

                      What is it?

GUENEVERE

                                  A dark shape,
    That stood within the shadow of the wall
    This hour past.

LAUNCELOT

                    I saw nothing.

GUENEVERE

                                   If it be
    Mordred, or Mordred’s spy? Launcelot, go
    Now, or we are both lost.

LAUNCELOT

    What’s Mordred’s hate but a nettle on a dunghill?
    What is it to me, that go from you for ever?
    Look on me, Guenevere, for the last time.
    The hard hour’s here, the bitter moment’s come;
    To-morrow I hoist for Brittany.

GUENEVERE

                                    Not yet!
    Oh no, not yet!

LAUNCELOT (_embracing her_)

    Once, once again, and then never again!

GUENEVERE

    Never? Never?

        (_She half swoons in his arms._)

LAUNCELOT

    O Queen, Queen of the World! Endure! Dear God,
    Have pity on her Thou madest beautiful
    With such a beauty as those burning stars
    In the waste heavens.

GUENEVERE

                          Launcelot!

LAUNCELOT

                                     Guenevere!
    Oh for a stream in a wood beneath the stars!
    A stream to bathe our souls in, Guenevere!
    I wish I had a giant’s strength to break
    This walling world down, hurl it stone from stone,
    Break from this dungeon into burning life,
    Free--lost, but free!

GUENEVERE (_pushing him from her_)

    Go now, or I shall keep you
    For ever in my arms.

        (_As they gaze silent on one another, voices are heard
        without. A knocking at the door; then the voice of_
        AGRAVAINE _calling aloud_.)

AGRAVAINE

    Launcelot! Traitor knight!

GUENEVERE

                               What voice is that?

VOICES

    Traitor! Come forth!

GUENEVERE

    What insolent clamour at my very door!
    I am a Queen, and daughter of a Queen.

        (_A laugh and voices._)

AGRAVAINE

    Traitor, come forth to us.

LAUNCELOT

                               It’s Agravaine!

AGRAVAINE

    You are taken!

OTHER VOICES

                   Taken, traitor; taken at last!

AGRAVAINE

    Come you out, Launcelot; there is no escape.

GUENEVERE

    Ah, Launcelot, they are come to murder you!

VOICES

    Come out! Come out!

LAUNCELOT

    Unclasp your hands; I am a man again!
    The secret way! Farewell, my Queen!

GUENEVERE (_stopping him_)

                                        Wait.
    That shape I saw in the shadow! If they have set
    A watch below? Stay an instant. Let me look.

        (_She looks out, and her appearance is met with a hoarse
        and mocking laugh from below._)

LAUNCELOT

    Trapped!
    Is there no armour, not a coat of mail?
    Nothing?

GUENEVERE

             Alas, nothing.

VOICES

                            Out, come out!

LAUNCELOT

    Not a sword even?

GUENEVERE

                      Alas, not even a sword.

LAUNCELOT

    I would to God I had my armour on me.

        (MORDRED _laughs_.)

    Mordred’s laugh. It is he that has done this.

MORDRED

    In the King’s name, we come to avenge the King
    And the King’s honour.

VOICES

                           Recreant knight, come out.

LAUNCELOT

    God strike them!
    Such shameful crying at your very doors!
    Better death straight.

GUENEVERE

    Let them kill me, so that they let you go.

LAUNCELOT

    Heaven defend me from such shame as that.
    No, I’ll sell life as dearly as I may,
    But I would sooner have my armour on me
    And a sword within my hand than all the crowns
    Of Christendom. Then, then would I have done
    Some deeds that men might tell of.

        (MORDRED _and his men have brought a bench and begin to
        batter at the door_.)

GUENEVERE

    They will break in the door.

COLEGREVANCE

                                 Come out to us,
    And let us kill you.

LAUNCELOT

                         That was the voice
    Of Colegrevance. He has the wits of an ox.
    Be still. Muffle the light. I have a thought.
    If I am slain, my Queen, pray for my soul.

    GUENEVERE (_muffles the lamp_)

    You will not open to these hounds of blood?

LAUNCELOT

    Be still.

        (_He opens the door a little._ COLEGREVANCE _comes in, and_
        LAUNCELOT _shuts the door and bolts it in an instant_.)

COLEGREVANCE

    There is no light.

        (LAUNCELOT _with a great buffet stuns_ COLEGREVANCE. _He
        draws_ COLEGREVANCE’S _sword and thrusts it into his
        throat_.)

    LAUNCELOT (_to_ GUENEVERE)

    The lamp.

        (GUENEVERE _uncovers the lamp_.)

    Now help me. Quick! Help me to arm.

        (_He tears off_ COLEGREVANCE’S _coat of mail and puts it
        on_.)

    Why, what a girth is here. Yet it shall serve.

AGRAVAINE

    Colegrevance! Colegrevance!

LAUNCELOT

                                Now I can defy them.

AGRAVAINE

    Vengeance! We’ll break the door, and drag you out.
    False fighter! You are caught, for all your wiles.

LAUNCELOT

    Listen! Cease your slanderous clamour! Listen!
    Go from this door, each of you get you home.
    To-morrow come you all before the King.
    There I will meet you and there answer you.
    That’s my last word.

AGRAVAINE

    Say your prayers now, and we will cry Amen
    Before we kill you.

LAUNCELOT

                        Is that your answer? Then
    Look to yourselves!

        (_He sets open the door suddenly, sword in hand._
        AGRAVAINE, MADOR, PATRICE, _and_ MORDRED _enter. There is a
        rush and furious combat._ AGRAVAINE _falls mortally wounded
        within the room_.)

VOICES

                        Have at him!

LAUNCELOT

                                     Mouths of shame!

GUENEVERE

    Ah, Jesu, help!

AGRAVAINE

                    I am dead. Mordred, Mordred!

PATRICE (_falling_)

    It is the fiend.

LAUNCELOT

                     To the black heart of you!

        (MORDRED _falls wounded, but rises and escapes_.)

MADOR

                                                Help, Mordred, help!
    The fiend is in him. He has seven swords.

        (MADOR _falls_.)

LAUNCELOT

    Bring me the lamp.

        (GUENEVERE _brings lamp_.)

    Ah, never more to insult you now, my Queen.

        (_He turns over the body of_ AGRAVAINE.)

    It is Agravaine, not Mordred!

        (_He holds the lamp over the other bodies._)

    Patrice! and Mador! Mordred’s fled, the coward!
    Why did I not make sure? Fled!

GUENEVERE

                                   Save yourself!
    Launcelot, from this hour all’s war and ruin.
    I forsee it, I that made it. It has come,
    Doom! Doom!

LAUNCELOT

                I’ll to the King.

GUENEVERE

    Your enemy!

LAUNCELOT

                Arthur, my enemy?

GUENEVERE

    From this night forth. Away! Gather your friends.
    Mordred is working while you linger. Ride.
    Ride without rein to your castle in the North,
    To Joyous Gard.

LAUNCELOT

                    To fight against my King?
    I cannot.

GUENEVERE

              Will you then be taken? Mordred
    Will be before you with the King. Hasten!
    Arm; gather every sword that’s on your side.

LAUNCELOT

    I cannot fight against my King.

GUENEVERE

                                    Then fly!

LAUNCELOT

    Fly and desert my Queen? Fly in her hour
    Of utmost peril?...
    Ah, Guenevere, what’s done nothing revokes,
    Neither repentance, nor new deeds, nor tears.
    See, we had parted: the great joy we had
    Was over; all was anguish and farewell.
    And now, and now, when we had torn asunder,
    We are driven together, and we cannot part.

GUENEVERE

    But part we must.
    This blood all cries against us. Save yourself,
    I have wrought you wrong enough.

LAUNCELOT

                                     I’ll to the King.
    He trusted me; and I must tell him all.
    I am more to him than many Mordreds.

GUENEVERE

                                         Blind!
    But if it must be, go this very night,
    Now! Dawn will soon be upon us.

LAUNCELOT

                                    Call your women,
    And lock yourselves within some inner room,
    That no harm come, till I have seen the King.
    I’ll rouse my friends that should have sailed with me
    For Brittany to-morrow. With my friends
    I’ll go to Arthur.
    Guenevere, if a hair upon your head
    Be threatened, I’ll not suffer it.

GUENEVERE

                                       Away!




SIXTH SCENE

_The King’s Tower. The same night. Sentinels discovered who move off at
a motion from the King._

ARTHUR _pacing up and down_.

(_Enter_ GAWAINE.)

GAWAINE

    Does not the King sleep?

ARTHUR

                             Gawaine, there are things
    Will not be put to sleep: thoughts in the blood....

GAWAINE

    You called me. Midnight’s past. It is near dawn.

ARTHUR

    There’s something secret round me.

GAWAINE

                                       Not in me,
    That with my life would guard you.

ARTHUR

                                       Guard? From what?
    What, Gawaine? Why, too, when I came among you--
    Bedivere, Mordred, all of you--I heard
    Hot cries of quarrel called and answered back--
    Why was there silence? When I questioned, none
    Found voice.

GAWAINE

                 They were ashamed.

ARTHUR

                                    Were you ashamed,
    Gawaine?

GAWAINE

             Not I.

ARTHUR

                    And yet you answered not.

GAWAINE

    My King, you know that Mordred and his friends
    Are glib in slander.

ARTHUR

                         Slander of whom? The truth!

GAWAINE

    They hate and envy Launcelot. To-morrow
    Let them face Launcelot. You shall hear them then.

ARTHUR

    This was no cause they should not speak to-night.
    How fell this quarrel out? At my Queen’s feast!
    Her guests! and Launcelot absent.

GAWAINE

                                      I forget.

ARTHUR

    Remember. It was insult to my Queen.
    How could you suffer it?

GAWAINE

                             I did not, sir.
    Nor any of your friends.

ARTHUR

                             And she, and she?
    Said they aught of her, of Guenevere?

GAWAINE

                                          Ah, King,
    My blood’s all rage. Pardon my silence now.

ARTHUR

    They spoke of her! They have talked of her abroad!
    My royal Guenevere! I did not know.
    I have been housed in my own roof of cares.
    I have been strange to her, that needed me.
    Where’s Launcelot?

GAWAINE

                       He took the young Lavaine,
    And they together have buried that fair maid
    Who died for Launcelot’s love. He’ll be abed
    Ere this.

ARTHUR

              Ah!

GAWAINE

                  Surely.

ARTHUR

                          Launcelot fled me. Why?

GAWAINE

    Think not of Launcelot ill. Who sought your good,
    Who fought for you, who toiled, who suffered, who
    Gave of his marrow and heart’s faith for you?
    Launcelot! Has Mordred? Not a jot. If ever
    There is dissension, rancour, envy, strife,
    Seek Mordred: you will find him under it
    Like a snake. Mordred loves you not.

ARTHUR

                                         I know it,
    And therefore must be just, more strictly just
    Where I love least.

GAWAINE

                        Believe me, Launcelot loves you.

ARTHUR

    Do I not know it? Ah,
    What curse of a sharp sight is come to me?
    This very love: why was that pain in it?
    Why was the torment in that loyal voice?

GAWAINE

    I would I had smitten Mordred to the earth
    And silenced him for ever.

ARTHUR

                               Woman’s love!
    It is a fire that eats upon the heart.
    It is past comprehension; it exceeds
    And feeds upon excess.
    Duty, duty can be taught and learned;
    But this love, it is out of all our laws
    And all our wisdom; none can measure it....
    If it be true--ah, Christ, if it be true!

GAWAINE

    Doubt not that it is false.

ARTHUR

                                Heaven knows my heart
    Has nothing willing in it: slow and heavy
    Moves my thought thither where the fear is, slow
    And heavy as sea-tides against the wind.
    Yet little things hurt in the memory,
    Like a mote pricking in the eyelid: words
    That may be fondest innocence, and may not.
    A look, a flying colour in the cheek,
    Soft hand-takings and silence of farewells;
    These may be friendship’s language, but if not,
    Friendship is foul.

GAWAINE

    These are the fears of the dead night that tempt
    Reason against our own heart’s truth. Now, sleep.

ARTHUR

    I put them from my mind, and then again
    They creep back, like a stain across the floor.

GAWAINE

    Launcelot’s true, my life on it. Shake this off
    Like a foul nightmare that the witches send.

ARTHUR

    What days were those when we were young together,
    The morning of the world! Gawaine, you know
    How many a time Launcelot took on his shield
    A blow that might have emptied me of life;
    At Solway, Celidon, at Badon Hill....
    Why should his hand have saved me, why, if....

GAWAINE

                                                   Ah,
    Launcelot is the truest knight on earth.

ARTHUR

    And yet he fled from me; fled from himself,
    If this my hand should suddenly take will,
    Against my own, to strike at one I loved,
    It would not more affront my reason. Oh,
    Gawaine, I love this man.

GAWAINE

                              As he loves you.

ARTHUR

    But woman, woman! I am mad to have these thoughts.
    If it be true, Gawaine, if it be true!

GAWAINE

    It’s false; Mordred shall own it.

ARTHUR

                                      Ay, the proof.
    Proof, and if no proof, banishment: nay, death.
    To-morrow this shall all be cleared. To-morrow!
    Get to bed.

        (GAWAINE _is going, when a loud knock is heard without,
        and_ MORDRED’S _voice, “The King!” The guard opens the
        door._)

GUARD

    My lord, it is Sir Mordred.

ARTHUR

                                Let him in.

MORDRED _appears, all bloody_.

GAWAINE

    Mordred! And there is blood upon his hands.

MORDRED

    Justice, O King, on a murderer and traitor.

GAWAINE

    What have you done? What villainy?

ARTHUR

                                       Peace, Gawaine.
    Now, speak.

MORDRED

                I grieve to tell what I must tell,
    But truth is worth its wound, Launcelot, your friend,
    The man whom you have trusted, whom you hold
    Dear as your life and honour, he it is
    I must accuse.

ARTHUR

                   To the accusation. Speak!
    And yet beware! Speak not without the proof!

MORDRED

    I have the proof.

GAWAINE

                      Is that his blood upon you?

ARTHUR

    Where is Launcelot?

MORDRED

                        Launcelot is ... where we found him,
    With the Queen, in her own chamber. Pardon me
    That loyalty must speak of shame so gross.

ARTHUR

    You have slain him, Mordred?

MORDRED

                                 Nay, he has lived to heap
    A second guilt upon his head. Murder!
    This is my own blood, where he wounded me,
    And Agravaine is dead, and Colegrevance,
    Patrice, and Mador. On the Queen’s threshold
    Launcelot slew them, thinking that one stroke
    Should silence all that caught him in his guilt.
    I cry upon your justice!

ARTHUR

                             Launcelot lives?

MORDRED

    Being taken, he set upon us like the fiend.
    The darkness, and his trickery, aided him.

GAWAINE

    One against five, and you all armed like men
    That go to battle!

ARTHUR

                       A marvel is this Launcelot,
    A marvellous proud fighter! There is none
    In Christendom or heathendom, I swear
    To match him. So he lives?

MORDRED

                               He has escaped:
    But now I cry your justice; banishment
    For Launcelot, the traitor!

ARTHUR

    There shall be justice done. Look to your wound.
    To-morrow I will have the proof of all,
    Mordred--full proof, or on your own head be it.

MORDRED

    You shall have proof, my King. Peace be to you.

        [MORDRED _goes out_.

ARTHUR

    Arm you now, Gawaine, arm! Arrest the Queen.
    Seek Launcelot out, and take him.

GAWAINE

                                      Never, sir.
    That will I never do. If I did this,
    It would be said Gawaine abetted what
    To him is shame and an unreason both.
    It may be Mordred lured him to the Queen
    With some feigned message.

ARTHUR

                               He was found with her.
    Why came he not to speak in his own cause?

GAWAINE

    I am not of your counsel.

ARTHUR

    Then call me Gaheris and Gareth here,
    Your brothers. They shall do this.

GAWAINE

                                       Ah, my lord,
    They will be as loth as I, but they are young
    And cannot say you nay. Yet I beseech you----

ARTHUR

    Fetch them. They lodge with you.

GAWAINE

                                     If it must be.

ARTHUR

    It must.

        (GAWAINE _goes out_. ARTHUR _pulls back the curtains at the
        window_.)

    Dawn. Is it dawn so soon?
    The birds sang soft so when I wooed her, soft
    And thrilling with low pipe. Smell of the grass,
    Dew, and her face, wonderful, coming towards me....
    Ah, God, that it were night again, the night,
    The dark, where I knew nothing, where I loved
    And trusted, where I had a wife, a friend.

        (_He falls on his knees._)

    Saviour of men, dear Christ, though my flesh bleed,
    Lift me to see, distinguish, and be just.
    The King must needs be just. Let me not fail,
    Now when thou seest me humbled. I have lost her.
    Have mercy upon us both. (_He rises._)
                             I am the King,
    And therefore justice. If I fail, that fails
    Which is of costlier essence than a King,
    Which salts corruption. (_Goes towards table._)

GARETH _and_ GAHERIS _enter, and stand by the door_. ARTHUR _turns_.

                            Gareth and Gaheris, enter!
    Fear not; come hither.

GARETH

                           We fear, my liege, what errand
    This midnight summons, hailing us from sleep,
    May mean.

    ARTHUR (_signing and giving them a warrant_)

              Fear not; go, seek Queen Guenevere,
    And take her into ward, as one that must
    Be judged. Then find Sir Launcelot, and take
    Him too. Be armed. Have force with you. Go quickly.

GARETH

    The King commands, and we must do his will.

GAHERIS

    Yet it is sore against our own will, sir.

GARETH

    And therefore we will take a guard of force,
    But for ourselves, we pray you pardon us,
    But we will not be armed, for we but do
    The King’s commandment.

_Re-enter_ GAWAINE.

GAHERIS

                            Which ourselves would not.

ARTHUR

    Are you all so stubborn? Get you gone, then; do
    What I command; be it done instantly.

        [GARETH _and his brother retire_.

GAWAINE

    This is ill done, and no good comes of it.

ARTHUR

    That which I do my will does; I am borne
    Onward, and cannot stay. The graves are dug
    For all mortality; our woes have been
    Wept for from the beginning of the world.
    I feel the creeping of the rust that dims.
    Excalibur, and those lamenting Queens
    That come to take me draw like shadows near
    Upon the shores of time.

GAWAINE

    This is ill done, and no good comes of it.

ARTHUR

    What comes has come already.

BORS, LAVAINE, _and other friends of_ LAUNCELOT, _appear with drawn
swords in the doorway_.

                                 Are you ghosts?
    That visit me, so haggard, pale and silent?
    Your swords are bare and in your eyes are looks
    Of fear. This dim light has a ghastness in it
    Making the vision of you strange.

BORS

                                      Sire, pardon!
    But some of us had terrors in our dreams
    And leapt awake in sweat, and snatched our swords.
    It was as if a cry rang in our ears.
    We thought some danger happened to Launcelot;
    And lo, we cannot find him.

GAWAINE

                                Launcelot!

BORS

    Where is he! Tell us!

ARTHUR

                          Ask of the King’s foes.
    Launcelot is a traitor.

BORS

                            Woe is me
    The King should say it. Launcelot loves him more
    Than all his friends.

ARTHUR

                          Choose: choose between your King
    And Launcelot.

BORS

                   What miserable cloud
    Is fallen about us, or what evil dream!
    Gawaine!

GAWAINE (_shrugging his shoulders_)

    All idle! Waves upon a rock.

ARTHUR

    Choose: if your will be on the King’s side, stay:
    But if on Launcelot’s, turn your faces from me.
    It shall be battle when we meet again.

        [BORS _and his friends look at each other, then silently
        turn and go out_.

ARTHUR

    So breaks my kingdom. It is gashed in two.
    Oh, Gawaine! Gawaine! (_He falls upon_ GAWAINE’S _neck_.)

        (A MAN-AT-ARMS _is heard without crying: “The King! Where
        is the King?”_)

GAWAINE

    Terror’s in that cry!

_The_ MAN _stumbles in breathless_.

    MAN (_falling on his knee_)

    Pardon me, King!

GAWAINE

                     My heart forebodes an evil.

MAN

    I am come breathless.

ARTHUR

                          Speak!

GAWAINE

                                 All news is ill.

ARTHUR

    Tell all.

MAN

              I am afraid.

ARTHUR

                           Your King commands.

MAN

    The Queen.... Sir Launcelot.

ARTHUR

                                 Taken?

MAN

                                        They are fled.
    Sir Launcelot has carried off the Queen.

    ARTHUR (_starting up_)

    Do you live and tell it to me?

MAN

                                   Patience, my lord,
    And I will tell you all. The dawn was breaking.
    The guard had just relieved us. It was then
    Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris summoned me
    On the King’s business. I knew not what it was.
    We went with them. They had no arms. We went;
    We came to the Queen’s door, and it was open.
    The Queen stood there, like one that waited us.
    There was a lamp burning above her head;
    Oh, very pale she seemed and very calm.
    “Do you come at my lord’s bidding?” so she asked.
    And then Sir Gareth bowed his head. He spoke
    No word, nor did Sir Gaheris; not a word.
    And we were awed by her, she was so calm.

ARTHUR

    So calm! And after?

MAN

                        I am telling all.
    The Queen said “I am ready,” and so she passed
    Between Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris,
    And we about them followed. It was dark
    In the shadow by the walls. There was a mist,
    A summer mist. The dawn was far above.

ARTHUR

    And then?

MAN

              We were all sorrowful at heart,
    Knowing not----

ARTHUR

                    To the issue!

MAN

                                  Some one cried
    “Look where the Queen is taken to her death!”
    Men had thronged up, and women; the cry passed
    From lip to lip, “She is taken to her death.”
    And sudden like a lion burst on us
    Sir Launcelot.

ARTHUR

                   Ah!

MAN

                       I know not whence he came,
    Out of the mist; his sword flashed in his hand,
    But not so terrible as his eyes. They flamed,
    You would have thought that when he saw the Queen
    His very reason rushed right out of him.

GAWAINE

    Ah, God defend my brothers!

MAN

                                He was mad,
    Blood-mad he seemed; he knew not what he did,
    He struck so sudden.

GAWAINE

                         My brothers!

MAN

                                      Right and left
    His sword was like a score of blades flashing.
    I swear no man could have prevailed against him.
    ’Twas quicker than a hawk upon a hare.
    Myself was thrown down. He had caught the Queen,
    And borne her off--men say, to Joyous Gard.

ARTHUR

    War! It is war!

GAWAINE

                    My brothers? Where are they?
    Speak, wretch.

MAN

                   I know not.

GAWAINE

                               Speak.

MAN

                                      Oh, my good lord,
    Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris are dead.

GAWAINE (_utters a great cry_)

    Launcelot slew them?

MAN

                         He knew not what he did.

GAWAINE

    They had no arms!

ARTHUR

                      Woe is me!

GAWAINE

                                 Launcelot!
    He saw them and he slew them!

ARTHUR

                                  Woe is me!
    I let them go. Ah, Gawaine!

GAWAINE

                                Blood for blood!
    I will believe all evil of him now,
    I am with you now, my King, and he shall die.
    My brothers! (_Sinking down._)

_A_ MESSENGER _enters hurriedly_.

MESSENGER

    My lord, the King!

ARTHUR

                       What, more? Worse cannot be.

MESSENGER

    Sir Mordred!

ARTHUR

                 Speak!

MESSENGER

                        He is fled.

ARTHUR

                                    He, too! How fled?

GAWAINE

    Who recks of Mordred! Drop him down the wind
    To his own hell. But Launcelot that I loved
    Has slain my brothers. Death to Launcelot!

ARTHUR

    Sir Mordred?

MESSENGER

                 He has flown and taken all
    His following with him; armed; an army!

ARTHUR

                                            So,
    He has shot his shaft and left it in the wound.

MESSENGER

    My lord, the word goes openly about
    Sir Mordred’s leagued with rebels in the West.
    They have summoned him to head them, and revolt
    Against your crown and kingdom.

ARTHUR

                                    Gawaine, hear!

GAWAINE

    I hear. But it’s from Launcelot I’ll have
    Most bitter satisfaction.

ARTHUR

                              Northward now!
    Summon my knights about me in the hall.

        [_Exit_ MESSENGER.

    Send a strong force on Mordred’s heels to hold
    The traitor back. Ourselves will swiftly ride
    To take the Queen from Launcelot. Day is come,
    And friends are friends and foes are foes at last.

        [_Exeunt._




SEVENTH SCENE

_The_ KING’S _Camp before Joyous Gard. Stormy weather. Black skies
against which the earth shows up white and livid. The towers of the
Castle appear above rising ground._

BEDIVERE

Black skies!

LUCAN

God’s anger.

BEDIVERE

How shall this end? Saw you the King?

LUCAN

But now he passed into his tent, slowly, with head dejected. His heart
is weary of this war.

BEDIVERE

Sick and sated. The heavy clouds seem to fall on us. One would say that
all the tempests of the world had gathered in that storm, which soon
will break about us.

LUCAN

There’s something monstrous in the season, a curse and an infection.
Storm after storm! The corn rots unripened, there’s mildew in the
orchards.

BEDIVERE

And here, unnatural strife. Arthur and the brother of his heart.

LUCAN

And the Queen betwixt them, like some baleful star.

BEDIVERE

And Gawaine mad with hate.

LUCAN

How long is it since we have besieged this Joyous Gard of Launcelot’s?


BEDIVERE

I cannot count the days.

LUCAN

This quarrel fills all Christendom. Men say the noise of it goes over
the seas even to Rome. Were it not for Gawaine, the King, I think,
would make his peace, and Launcelot deliver up his Queen to him.

BEDIVERE

Not while the King is fixed to bring the Queen to judgment. To that
Launcelot will never yield. So stands our wrestle in a deadlock;
meanwhile this dear realm splits in two.

LUCAN

And Mordred!

BEDIVERE

The wedge that drives into the crack.

LUCAN

I fear Mordred most. The rebel tribes gather to him in the West, while
we waste ourselves before Joyous Gard. We should have caught him before
he could join and head them.

BEDIVERE

The King’s force holds him at bay yonder.

LUCAN

Yet men begin to cry that with the King all is profitless fighting, but
with Mordred feasting and plunder.

BEDIVERE

Would God we were fighting him, not Launcelot.

GAWAINE _enters_.

GAWAINE

Where is the King?

BEDIVERE

He has passed into his tent. He rests.

GAWAINE

What, can remembrance sleep? The wrong that Launcelot has done is red
before my eyes, day and night. Can he forget?

BEDIVERE

The King were a glad man, if he could forget. At the bottom of their
hearts is a dear love one to the other.

GAWAINE

He shall not forget while I can sting remembrance.

BEDIVERE

Gawaine, if any man was your friend, it was Launcelot.

GAWAINE

The dearer friend, the dearer foe. It grows to madness in my brain,
that ever I held that traitor in my heart.

BEDIVERE

However it be, right or wrong, we are sore grieved to be against him.


LUCAN

Sore and sorrowful, Gawaine.

GAWAINE

It is you that are against the King, then?

BEDIVERE

We?

LUCAN

Never.

GAWAINE

I say you are against him. It is you that blunt his justice, it is you
that soften him with fond reluctances, like women looking backward. Who
would be a man, and in the cause he has espoused not trample down such
weakness?

BEDIVERE

Who would be a man and utterly forget the friendship of his friend?

GAWAINE

Forget! Forgotten! Never! And never forgiven! Had you but the flint in
you that a just cause strikes her flame from, we should have overturned
these proud towers long ago. But overturned they shall be. I’ll to the
King, and rouse him.

        [_Exit._

BEDIVERE

How like a frenzy is his hatred!

LUCAN

He is narrowed to one point, vengeance. Look, what’s yonder?

BEDIVERE

A damsel riding hither from Joyous Gard.

LUCAN

Upon a milk-white ass! Look, a gleam follows her from the stormy
heaven. A happy omen!

BEDIVERE

She is in white; like a white dove; like peace. Go, Lucan, go to meet
her. (LUCAN _advances. A distant trumpet sounds from_ LAUNCELOT’S
_side_.) A trumpet sounds from Joyous Gard. Is it peace at last?

_The_ DAMSEL _enters_.

LUCAN

God be with you, maiden.

DAMSEL

Peace to you, fair lord.

LUCAN

Come you from Joyous Gard?

DAMSEL

I am Sir Launcelot’s herald. I go before him. He comes to parley with
King Arthur.

LUCAN

I will tell the King.

        [_Exit._

BEDIVERE

Would that the issue might be gracious as the forerunner. What sends
Sir Launcelot? Is it peace? (_Trumpet sounds from the_ KING’S _side_.)
Hark! The King comes!

        _The_ KING’S _knights come on, arrayed as for battle.
        Trumpets answer from_ LAUNCELOT’S _side_. GAWAINE _enters,
        and then the_ KING.

ARTHUR

    I hear the trumpet blow from Joyous Gard;
    Is a lily come against us?

GAWAINE

                               What’s this mockery?
    What brought this maiden hither?

DAMSEL

                                     Oh, most noble,
    Noble King Arthur, graciously hear me!
    Your servant, Launcelot, comes from Joyous Gard
    And prays to parley with his lord, the King.
    You see in me what gentle thoughts are his----

ARTHUR

    White and fair! What avails?

GAWAINE

                                 A treacherous trick,
    To clothe his blackness white, and let it speak
    In virgin syllables of gentleness.

ARTHUR

    Softly. How is it with the Queen?

DAMSEL

    The Queen weeps.

GAWAINE

                     Send her to her lord again.

        (_Trumpet._)

DAMSEL

    Sir Launcelot is here.

        [LAUNCELOT _and his knights appear. Exit_ DAMSEL.

GAWAINE

                           No parley, King,
    Let us out swords and make an end at once.

ARTHUR

    Such embassy must have its honour.

GAWAINE

                                       Nay.

ARTHUR

    This is the royal office;
    Usurp not----

LAUNCELOT

                  May I speak, my lords?

ARTHUR

                                         Speak on!

LAUNCELOT

    Fair lords, and you my own King----

GAWAINE

                                        Perjurer!

LAUNCELOT

    I make no war on you, my King. Assure me
    With confirmation of your kingly oath
    That harm come not to her that is your Queen,
    And I restore her straightway and depart.

ARTHUR

    Do you enjoin your terms upon your King?

GAWAINE

    False once, false always!

LAUNCELOT

                              To my King I speak.
    Make me that promise.

ARTHUR

                          Justice asks her due.

LAUNCELOT

    Never, my lord, shall the Queen stand this charge
    On testimony of that traitor Mordred.

GAWAINE

    Yourself’s the traitor! We will take your towers
    And you shall cry his pardon on your knees.

LAUNCELOT

    Knights, lords of Britain, you’ll not take my towers;
    And if I choose to come forth on the field
    Soon shall I make an end, and that you know.

ARTHUR

    An end, an end! But God shall make the end.
    Bring all your boast of knights into the field,
    Set your array, and sound your trumpets; then
    The desolate seashores shall have renown
    And you dishonour!

LAUNCELOT

    Ah, my lord Arthur, God defend that ever
    I should lift arms against my only King!

ARTHUR

    Give me your enmity! We are met in storm
    And under angry heaven, but were these clouds
    Of imminent tempest rolled away, and light
    Before us endless on a path of peace,
    Our quarrel stretches to the world’s end still
    And sleeps but in the grave. You have done that
    Which time can never undo, never amend
    Or alter into kindness, nor can words
    That use old fondness reach their lodge again
    Within this heart. Strike, you shall find it iron.

LAUNCELOT

    Say what you will, with you I cannot strive.

ARTHUR

    Ah, Launcelot, you have done me wrong enough----

LAUNCELOT

    And I repent it sorely. It is too true,
    Many of your best have spilt Life in this quarrel.
    Yet, that I did, I did but in defence
    Of your own Queen.

ARTHUR

                       My Queen whom you have taken,
    And by force held.

LAUNCELOT

                       From death and cruel shame
    I hold her and will hold her.

GAWAINE

                                  He has said it!
    Why parley here?

ARTHUR

                     Back to your towers then! Go,
    Ere we set on. There is no ending here,
    And no amending save through judgment.

LAUNCELOT

                                           First
    Listen!
    Remember, my lord Arthur, how I vowed
    Long ago, how I vowed, you smiling on,
    To be your Queen’s true servant all my days.
    Remember how it pleased her, and you too,
    To cherish and uphold me more than all
    And any of your knights; past my desert
    Indeed, and yet some love did I deserve,
    Who ever fought for you and for your Queen
    In many another quarrel than my own.
    Remember----

ARTHUR

                 Speak no more. It’s now; not then.

LAUNCELOT

    Yet one word more! Had Mordred and his crew
    Not set their miserable snare for me
    That night----

ARTHUR

                   That night?

LAUNCELOT

                               You had been rid of me,
    Rid of this abjured, exiled Launcelot,
    And in a realm at peace.

ARTHUR

                             What mystery speaks
    In such a protestation, I know not.
    Your deeds have deafened us to that.

LAUNCELOT

                                         My King,
    Even while those felons feasted on the death
    They plotted for me, out of hate for you,
    Even when their shameful cries were at the door,
    I had already made my hard farewell
    And everlasting absence from your Queen,
    Because of ill tongues, and because I knew
    Their worst plot was to part us, and to rend
    This realm of yours in twain.

ARTHUR

                                  What avails words?
    You stole her.

LAUNCELOT

                   Saved her! Could I leave her then
    A prey to those fanged foxes? To the wrath
    They were so cunning with their stratagems
    To fire in you? I had vowed to be your Queen’s
    Unalterable knight and steadfast sword.
    Could I forswear her in her hour of danger?

        (ARTHUR, _moved, is silent_.)

    Speak!

ARTHUR

           Yield her up.

LAUNCELOT

                         And she shall be unharmed?

ARTHUR

    Justice must stand, and she abide by that.

LAUNCELOT

    On the accusation of a miscreant
    Proved false as hell? Arraigned in such a cause?
    Never!

ARTHUR

           Your own guilt, Launcelot, stands clear.

GAWAINE

    Enough of words. To arms!

LAUNCELOT

                              Ere that my words
    Be scattered in this tempest, hear me out.
    Think of her dead.
    Think of that royal beauty in its grave!
    Did Guenevere, your Queen, lie here before you
    With the eyes that see not, with the ears that hear not,
    Ignorant of a pardon come too late,
    Past beyond all repentance, cold to all
    Tears of your supplication, locked away
    In silence answerless, would that content you?
    Oh, take her sorrow to your grace, my King,
    Take that most noble lady to your grace,
    And be it peace between us.

ARTHUR

                                Peace? Alas!
    The dear cords that have bound us are all frayed
    And ragged on the sore.

GAWAINE

                            Insolent thief!
    The King shall have his Queen, despite of you.

LAUNCELOT

    Put me to proof, Gawaine, put me to proof!
    Hazard your force upon me, and I swear
    It shall be easier for your single hand
    To storm a barricaded city, than
    By force or threat to take the Queen from me,
    Except I have the King’s oath.

GAWAINE (_drawing his sword_)

    Now and here!
    Now and here! Put it to the proof.

ARTHUR

                                       Gawaine,
    Put up your sword!

        (_Lightning._)

GAWAINE

                       The heavens strike at him.

ARTHUR

    Launcelot!

LAUNCELOT

               Arthur!

GAWAINE

                       I have stemmed my wrath
    Too long! I have my quarrel in this cause
    And no fond word shall end it. Murderer!
    My blood is on you, you are spotted with it,
    The blood of my young brothers whom you slew.

        (_Thunder._)

    Cover your eyes! You cannot shield your soul
    From my full vengeance.

LAUNCELOT

                            All my soul is grief
    For what I did that day, and did not know it.
    Sooner than Gareth I’d have slain myself.
    I loved him.

GAWAINE

                 And you butchered both defenceless!
    Red in their blood I see you, hair to heel.

LAUNCELOT

    If the King will, I shall do penance for it.
    I will build chantries over all the land
    From Cabelot to Dover, and will go
    A barefoot pilgrim, praying for the souls
    Of Gareth and of Gaheris whom I loved.

GAWAINE

    You lie; you did it of your evil will
    And devilish delight.

LAVAINE

                          You shall not say it.
    Sir Gawaine, I loved Gareth and I know
    Sir Launcelot killed him in pure ignorance.

ARTHUR

    Cease, Gawaine, cease!

        (_Lightning._)

GAWAINE

                           I will not cease, until
    That innocent dear blood be wiped away.

BORS

    Shall we endure this more?

LAVAINE

                               Speak, Launcelot!

        (_Thunder._)

GAWAINE

    Liar and traitor!

        (_He throws his glove in_ LAUNCELOT’S _face. Trumpets from_
        LAUNCELOT’S _side_.)

BORS

                      Out swords!

LAVAINE

                                  We are ashamed.

GAWAINE

    Blow, trumpets, blow my vengeance.

        (_Thunder._)

ARTHUR

                                       It is fated!
    War and no peace; in earth and heaven, war.

        (_The storm breaks with blinding violence as the battle
        begins._ LAUNCELOT’S _knights defend him from_ GAWAINE’S
        _fury, giving ground R. Confused fighting in darkness.
        Cries of “Launcelot!” “Joyous Gard!” “Arthur!” and
        “Gawaine!” A flash of lightning discovers_ GAWAINE _hewing
        his way through the fighters_.)

GAWAINE

    Gash this accursed darkness, flame of heaven,
    And find me him.

        (_He is borne backwards L. by superior force._)

                     I’ll find him, spite of you.
    Spite of all.

        (_More thunder. Confusion and fighting as before._)

A VOICE

    Help!

ANOTHER

    Christ and Arthur!

ANOTHER

                       Better call the fiend
    That rides this tempest!

        (_Thunder again._)

ANOTHER VOICE

                             Never was such war
    Since the angels fell.

ANOTHER

                           We are stricken out of heaven.

MANY VOICES

    Gawaine! Gawaine!

OTHERS

                      Launcelot! Launcelot!

A VOICE

    Death to you!

ANOTHER

                  Brother! I have killed my brother,
    Woe!

A VOICE

    The King! Where is the King?

VOICES

                                 The King is slain!

ANOTHER

    We are lost!

ANOTHER

                 A curse, the curse of God!

BORS (_in the distance_)

                                            Fight on!
    Fight on!

VOICES

    Joyous Gard! Joyous Gard!

BORS

    Press!

VOICES

           Where is Gawaine?

BORS

                             Now pursue, pursue;
    They have no captain.

VOICES (_retreating_)

                          Lost, we are all lost!

        (_The storm mitigates a little, and in the dim light_ BORS
        _and_ ARTHUR _are seen confronting each other alone, the
        fight having swept off to the L._)

    BORS (_calling_)

    Launcelot!
    (_To_ ARTHUR) Yield you. There is none to aid.

ARTHUR

    But that my heart is weary unto death
    And my soul sadder than despair----

BORS

                                        The King!

_Enter_ LAUNCELOT.

    Launcelot, Launcelot! Shall I make an end?
    It is the King.

        (_He lifts his sword._ ARTHUR _stands motionless, leaning
        on his sword_.)

LAUNCELOT

                    On your life’s peril, hold,
    O friend, against that sacred head!

BORS

                                        Yet here
    Should end all quarrels.

LAUNCELOT

                             Down that impious sword,
    Or never breathe again.
    My King! Is there a hurt?

ARTHUR

                              Not in my flesh.
    It is of stone, and feels not any more.

        (_A long-drawn note is sounded by a distant trumpet._)

LAUNCELOT

    What strange note blows upon that trumpet?

    BORS (_looking down the slope_)

                                               See,
    The fighting ceases, and the fighters all
    Stand motionless.

LAUNCELOT

                      Go, Bors, and bring me word.

        [_Exit_ BORS.

ARTHUR

    Oh, Launcelot, would this war had never been!

        (_Thunder retreating._)

    Hark! how the heavens groan over us. Out of me,
    Had I capacity for utterance, would
    Like storm of woe from this dark bosom burst,
    Filling the world.

LAUNCELOT

                       Oh, Arthur! Oh, my King,
    Had we but met before, thus, face to face!
    Arthur, you trusted me; and though I guard
    Your Queen from death, I have not failed you since.
    But now, since we are met as naked souls
    Beneath dark heaven, I will confess me. I
    Have done you wrong that nothing can undo,
    Not though this thunder cracked the frame of things
    And spilled the molten world. Since first my eyes
    Saw Guenevere, I loved her.

ARTHUR

                                Launcelot!

LAUNCELOT

                                           Oh!
    With wrestlings and with torture, yet with such
    Extreme necessity of love as bound me,
    Blinded! Against that storm I was not strong;
    I was a madman, rushing on a spear
    In rapture. Take your Queen back to your heart,
    Forgiven, but as for me--lift up your sword
    And claim this forfeit soul.

        (_A distant chanting is heard._)

ARTHUR (_raising his sword_)

                                 I have good cause.
    I loved, and you have shamed me; more, undone
    My life, my hope, my kingdom! (_Letting his point fall._) No, I cannot.
    Were we but met in the hot battle’s blood
    I’d kill you for that cause. Now I am numbed;
    And something from within me stays my hand.
    Take my Queen pardoned to my heart, you plead.
    Ah, Launcelot! were it merely man and woman,
    Love should be wide and infinite as air
    To meet her at the world’s end with my arms,
    Even at the farthest erring. There’s no help.
    A man may pardon, but the King may not.
    The King is justice, or no more a King.

LAUNCELOT

    Forgiveness is yet kinglier. Harden not
    Your heart for ever.

ARTHUR

                         Were there but a sign
    From this charged heaven----

LAUNCELOT

                                 Look!

        (_A gleam has appeared in the paling sky and the chant
        grows nearer._)

ARTHUR

                                       Is there light
    On earth again?

LAUNCELOT

    What strange stillness has seized upon the host?
    What chant is that?

VOICES

    The King! The King! A wonder! Rome! Rome!

        (_Certain knights of either party return on the scene, and
        in their midst a white banner preceding a_ BISHOP, _with
        a train of priests chanting. With a last remote peal of
        thunder the storm passes away_.)

BISHOP

Peace! Peace to you all! In the name of our Lord Jesu, peace! Our Holy
Father on the seat of St. Peter hath sent me hither with his commands.
Hasting I come even among your swords and spears; And this is the
command that I am charged with. Launcelot shall render his Queen again
to King Arthur; she shall not be harmed: And King Arthur shall be
accorded with Sir Launcelot. This, upon pain of interdiction of the
whole realm of Britain, is the high commandment of God’s regent upon
earth, our Holy Father in Rome. My sons, will you obey?

        (ARTHUR _and_ LAUNCELOT _bow their heads_.)

ARTHUR

    So far as it be peace betwixt us, I obey.

LAUNCELOT

    I go to bring the Queen.

        (_He goes away R. as_ GAWAINE _is brought in wounded,
        leaning on two of his knights_.)

GAWAINE

Ah, there! Let me but reach him; hurt though I be, I will satisfy my
vengeance.

BISHOP

Man of blood, your hour is past. Exorcise from you this vain rage and
lust of vengeance. Bethink you of your sins, and of God’s peace. The
King receives his Queen again and is accorded with Sir Launcelot.

GAWAINE

    Not all the priests in Christendom shall force
    My will to this. I’ll say naught of the Queen;
    But him will I proclaim still to the world
    Traitor.

ARTHUR

             Ah, Gawaine, have we not enough
    Of hatred?

GAWAINE

               Though I seek him through seven realms
    I’ll have my retribution, death for death.

        (_He faints._)

ARTHUR

    He has swooned. Bear him to his tent.

        (GAWAINE _is borne off by his friends_.)

BISHOP

    Pass now.
    My errand is performed. Peace be upon you.

        [_The priests resume their chant, and the_ BISHOP _and his
        train pass off_.

ARTHUR

    Look, where she comes.

LAUNCELOT _returns, leading_ GUENEVERE _by the hand_.

LAUNCELOT

    My King, I bring to you your Queen again.

        (_They kneel down before_ ARTHUR, _then_ LAUNCELOT _raises_
        GUENEVERE.)

ARTHUR

    Guenevere!

GUENEVERE

               Oh, my lord!

ARTHUR

                            What shall I say?...
    With a sore heart I took this battle up
    Which now is ended. Launcelot, I loved you,
    Cherished and honoured you before all others.
    But now is parting. My reproach is dulled,
    Fall’n out of use and anger,
    Like a spent arrow.

LAUNCELOT

                        Oh, my King, believe me,
    Never was it my purpose or my thought
    To keep your Queen from you, but to defend
    And shield her from your anger and her foes.

ARTHUR

    Now, as between us both, let God, that brings
    This end and mystery of returning light
    After the thunder round us, and that sees
    Our spirits without mask and unexcused,
    Judge and have mercy. Tho’ peace be now ordained
    Between us both, yet from our realm for ever
    You are banished to your own lands whence you came,
    To Brittany beyond the seas. Alas!
    I never thought with such a word to close
    Our book of friendship, wherein men shall read
    How, many a time, Launcelot saved his King
    And brought this kingdom glory. It is not I
    That shall forget that friendship or those deeds.
    And truly, for your fault, do I commend you
    Where is that understanding of our hearts
    Which is beyond men’s fathom. God be with you.

LAUNCELOT

    Now, must I speak
    That narrow word which, like a little spring
    Of water, swells to a dividing flood:
    _Farewell_. O royal Guenevere, farewell.
    Dear isle, sweet Britain, where I won renown--
    All other lands are darkness to your light
    Which I must leave behind me. Keep my name
    As one that loved, as one that.... There’s no more!
    Launcelot passes from this fellowship,
    This the most noble fellowship of the world,
    For ever, and the little noise we made
    In the dull ear of Time so gloriously
    The streams of silence take.
    Lord Arthur, though all else be cancelled, yet
    I keep my oath of fealty; leave me that:
    And I shall never fail you, heart or hand,
    While breath is in me. Call me in your need,
    My sword, my life, are yours.

        [LAUNCELOT _passes out with his Knights. The_ KING’S
        _followers withdraw aside_.

ARTHUR

    Do you not weep to have lost him, Guenevere?
    He did to me the wrong that least is pardoned,
    Yet almost I forget my manhood now.

GUENEVERE

    I am past tears. All I have done and been,
    Been and endured, I see from far away,
    As if another in my shape were there
    Moving through storm and fire.--Have you no word,
    No reproach for me?

ARTHUR

                        All my thoughts are stript.
    As trees after the tempest, and life’s bare
    As winter to the homeless.

GUENEVERE

                               This my heart
    Did never forge sweet pardons for itself.
    There is no absolution among men:
    Give me leave, therefore, to renounce the world
    And choose the cloister.

ARTHUR

                             Will you take those vows?
    I doubt not you are guided where you go.
    What’s broken God may there amend, not we.

GUENEVERE

    There is a nunnery at Amesbury: once
    I entered there, and found strange peace within.
    I did not know such peace could be on earth.
    Suffer me, my lord, to go to Amesbury.

ARTHUR

    So be it.

GUENEVERE

              Put remembrance under stone
    Where the dead lie and feet pass over them.
    She that so wronged you has no more a name.

ARTHUR

    Bedivere, take you twenty of my knights
    And ride to Amesbury. Guard you well the Queen;
    Let no least harm befall her on the way,
    No trouble: bear her company till you find
    Those doors that she will enter. For she vows
    Her days to the nun’s cloister and small cell,
    And to that peace which the world gives not.

BEDIVERE

                                                 Sir,
    We are honoured having so noble a charge laid on us.
    We shall do all your bidding.

ARTHUR

                                  Set you forth.
    Farewell, until the last farewell of all!

        (GUENEVERE _passes out, escorted by_ BEDIVERE _and
        Knights_. ARTHUR _is left alone standing in the solemn
        light of sunset. He breaks out into a cry._)

    Launcelot, Launcelot! Guenevere, Guenevere!




EIGHTH SCENE

_The Nunnery at Amesbury._ GUENEVERE _is discovered lying prostrate
on the stone steps_. _A nun_, LYNNED, _enters and lifts her up as she
speaks to her_.

LYNNED

    Queen, the day calls us; cling not to the night,
    The stone, the silence. There is flesh and blood
    Of your own people, threatened and afraid,
    That calls on you. Though you have cast the robe
    Of royalty for this (_touching her nun’s garment_), the queenly heart
    Has room for other sorrow than its own--
    So cold, my sister? Feel within my arms,
    Feel in my bosom the warm running blood
    That neighbours yours.

GUENEVERE

                           I am wearied, wearied out.
    I would forget, and cannot. My heart’s numbed
    With aching like my body.
    I thought that in these walls there should be peace.
    Tell me, for you have eyes that understand
    And seem to suffer, tell me the truth, Sister.
    I know that it is sinful to remember,
    And yet, is it not treason to forget?

LYNNED

    Grief can grow dear--do I not know it?--grief
    Can grow too dear. The heart that loses all
    Must still give all.

GUENEVERE

                         Take not my grief from me,
    Or there is nothing left to me on earth.

LYNNED

    Nay, grief shall change and grow beyond itself.
    There’s one now at the gate must speak with you.

GUENEVERE

    Send him away.

LYNNED

                   I cannot.

GUENEVERE

                             Who is he
    That seeks me? There was one who used to come
    To me, always, before he rode to battle.
    His name was Launcelot. That was long ago.
    I was a Queen then. I have died since then.
    It is not Launcelot! Leave me then in peace.

LYNNED

    Alas, even here within this cloister wall
    Is no peace any longer, but all round
    Imminent tempest, ripe to burst on us,
    Sir Mordred with his host in rebel arms,
    Thrice swollen in number, threatens ever nearer.
    Out of the West he thrusts. This very day
    May see the issue. Never did the swarm
    Of Saxon heathen press the King so hard.

GUENEVERE

    Who else could seek me now? Is it the King?

LYNNED

    It is the King.

GUENEVERE

                    I cannot see him.

LYNNED

                                      Think!
    He is in deadly danger: it may be
    This is the last time you may look on him.

GUENEVERE

    I cannot.

LYNNED

              Sister, I, too, once denied
    One who had loved me, when he sought me out
    For my forgiveness. Gawaine was his name.
    They had told an evil tale of me, and he
    Believed it in his sudden wrath, and then
    Repented, and he came to see me, and I
    Denied him. Now he is dead, that stormy heart----

GUENEVERE

    Sir Gawaine, dead?

LYNNED

                       Dead of that wound he got
    By Joyous Gard. The news came even now.
    I shall not see him now, never again;
    I, that had all his pardon brimming here.
    And have no pardon for myself.

GUENEVERE

                                   You, too?

LYNNED

    We are all kneaded of one flesh; wild earth,
    Yet heavenly seed can spring in it, and peace
    That comes in the end, but comes not without cost.
    It is ill shrinking from our sorrow, Queen.
    Will you not see the King?

GUENEVERE

                               How looked he? Tell me.

LYNNED

    I saw him in the ghostly morning mist
    Clad in his armour, sitting on his horse.
    He rides to battle. Almost like a spirit
    He seemed, and greater than himself.
                                         When he spoke,
    His voice was gentle, yet withal commanded.
    And there was such a shining in his eyes
    As never yet I saw in any man’s
    Upon this earth.

GUENEVERE

                     Go, tell him----

        (ARTHUR _appears at the back, as a shadow among the
        shadows, emerging into the light till he stands near_
        GUENEVERE.)

LYNNED

                                      He is here.

        (LYNNED _glides away as the King appears. He has an
        exalted, strange, and almost transfigured air._)

ARTHUR

    Guenevere!

GUENEVERE

               Why do you bring me back that ache
    And the sharp memory of all I thirst
    To have forgotten?
    Do you come now to forgive me?
    Standing apart, to pardon?
    Only the truth is worthy of what we are.
    I have wept tears that scald the soul, and yet
    I do my heart of hearts wrong, if I say
    That I repent of all.

ARTHUR

                          If I were he
    You knew in other time, if I were he
    Who had no eyes but for his distant goal,
    And saw not the things nearest to his heart--
    But he is passed.

GUENEVERE

                      You speak with a new voice.
    But I am as the dead who cannot change:
    Burnt out. I feel not, only see, from far,
    The unending desolation I have made.

ARTHUR

    I too, I too see, Guenevere. I see
    Your spirit, and my spirit, and that one
    Who stands between us; and I see the realm,
    I dreamed to make one flawless crystal, cracked
    To fragments; and the loss, the waste. But now
    I am come, through anguish and against my will,
    Into a light that shows me what I am,
    And where I go, and what endures beyond.
    Were it not for the pain, I had not known.
    In ignorance we tear each other’s hearts.
    Know you, Gawaine is gone, dead of his wound?

GUENEVERE

    I know it.

ARTHUR

               Know you, the great heart in him
    Turned once again to Launcelot at the last?
    The old love flooded over that dark hate:
    He knew that Launcelot loved him to the end
    From the beginning. Guenevere, my light
    Came then: I knew that Launcelot loved me
    Not less, but more, because he did me wrong;
    And I began to understand that love,
    Which knows not good or evil, but gives all,
    Because it turns as flowers do to the sun
    And goes like stream to sea.

GUENEVERE

                                 I did the wrong.
    Through me the young have perished, the young men
    Have fallen in their blood.
    From me a woe goes welling through the world
    Like waves in the black night.

ARTHUR

                                   From me, from me!
    In the beginning was my fault. I feel
    The end upon me, like the air of dawn,
    And see in light that is not of the earth
    What we have done to each other, and left undone.
    I in my far dream of that perfect realm,
    Clouded in cares of policy and state,
    Saw not what burning soul was at my side,
    Wanting the love that sees through human eyes
    And by love understands. I was blind. Now
    I am borne beyond Time’s wisdom and that fear
    Which moulds men’s justice. What am I, to speak
    Pardon or condemnation? I am come
    To humbleness that cries, “Father, forgive!
    We know not what we did.” It is I that say,
    “My Queen, forgive me.” Speak not any word.
    Your eyes have spoken. Guenevere, I go
    To battle. Give me your farewell.

GUENEVERE

                                      To battle!
    Never an end of battle!

ARTHUR

                            Mordred stands,
    Ready to strike; and men, that I have made
    From nothing, now are Mordred’s. That name sucks
    All secret poison to itself. Yonder
    He waits me. I shall overthrow him--this
    Is a fight to put my soul in--yet a voice
    Within my heart assures me that I go
    To the last of all my battles.

GUENEVERE

                                   To the last?

ARTHUR

    I feel the wizard sword Excalibur
    Like an impatient spirit within my hand,
    As if he heard voices recalling me
    Out of this ended world. But I am freed;
    I am forgiven; the dark load is off.
    Say me farewell, Guenevere.

GUENEVERE

                                Now you go
    Into your mortal peril, and go alone,
    Maimed of your strong right hand,
    Of Launcelot, that loved you. Woe on me!
    The very meanest of your serving men
    That bears a weapon has the better right
    Than she who was your Queen to follow you
    Even with her prayers.

ARTHUR

                           Give me your prayers, I ask them.
    Christ, that loved men and women, comfort you.

GUENEVERE

    God keep my lord. I have no words any more.

ARTHUR

    The day goes to the night,
    And I to darkness, with my toil undone.
    Yet something, surely, something shall remain.
    A seed is sown in Britain, Guenevere;
    And whether men wait for a hundred years
    Or for a thousand, they shall find it flower
    In youth unborn. The young have gone before me,
    The maid Elaine, Gareth, and Gaheris--hearts
    Without a price, poured out. But now I know
    The tender and passionate spirit that burned in them
    To dare all and endure all, lives and moves,
    And though the dark comes down upon our waste,
    Lives ever, like the sun above all storms;
    This old world shall behold it shine again
    To prove what splendour men have power to shape
    From mere mortality.
                         Farewell! That peace
    Which can remember, and yet hope, because
    Love makes us greater than we know, come to you,
    Guenevere!

        [_He disappears into the shadows, and the scene closes in._


NINTH SCENE

_Same as Eighth Scene. Early light._ GUENEVERE _is discovered with a
young_ NOVICE.

GUENEVERE

    What hour is it?

FIRST NOVICE

                     Madam, struck six.

GUENEVERE

                                        Still rumour,
    And never the one certain thing. Two hours
    Since any word came how the battle goes.
    Yet all night long
    Have our replenished torches flamed to guide
    The bearers of the wounded to our gates.

FIRST NOVICE

    Cloister and ante-chapel both are filled;
    And still they bring them in, dying and dead.
    Never was seen such slaughter in the world.

GUENEVERE

    Still no news of the King!

        (_A pause._)

_Enter_ SECOND NOVICE.

SECOND NOVICE

                               News, Madam!

GUENEVERE

                                            Speak.

SECOND NOVICE

    There came a rider spurring from the West;
    His head was badged with blood. He implored speech
    Passionately, as heavy with his news,
    Of the Sister Lynned. She has quit the task
    That keeps her with those wounded ones, and gone
    To the gate to meet him. He is named, they say,
    Sir Bedivere.

GUENEVERE

                  The King’s friend. He will bring
    News of the King.

FIRST NOVICE

                      Madam, the Sister comes.

    _Enter_ LYNNED.

LYNNED

    Our Reverend Mother Abbess needs more hands
    To bind those many wounds up. Go to her.

        [_The_ NOVICES _go out, leaving_ GUENEVERE _and_ LYNNED
        _facing each other._

GUENEVERE

    There’s tidings on your face. The King is dead!

LYNNED

    The King is dead. The flower of Kings is fallen.

        (_A pause._)

    Lucan is dead, Pelleas and Sagramore,
    Lamorak, Meliot, Pellenore, Ozanna;
    That famous fellowship of knights is dust.

GUENEVERE

    Who shall let leap his bright sword in the air?
    In what cause? There is no cause any more.
    What tidings brought Sir Bedivere? Tell all.

LYNNED

    The rebel power is broken, and he that raised it
    Dead. Woe on us that the King died with him!
    Upon a field all mounded with the slain,
    The bloodiest harvest Time did ever reap,
    He and the traitor Mordred met their last
    And smote each other, even to the death.
    From a seashore that seemed the end of earth
    (So tells Sir Bedivere, like a ghost himself)
    Men fled into the tumble of the tides
    And the waves choked them falling; the salt spray
    Stung them: but “Never saw I fire,” said he,
    “Of such an indignation fill the King
    Seeking for Mordred. At the last he spied him
    Among the heaped dead, leaning on his sword,
    And cried aloud and smote him; and that traitor,
    Even as he gasped his bitter soul out, struck
    On our anointed.”

GUENEVERE

                      Arthur, Arthur!

LYNNED

                                      Yet
    Not there he died, though hurt to death: in his arms
    Sir Bedivere upbore him to a mere
    Deep in the hills. There the King bade him ride
    To Amesbury--ride swift and tell the Queen,
    How, ere he died, he had sent words of love,
    Of old, long love to Launcelot overseas;
    With his life’s blood his secret heart gushed out
    In love for Launcelot and his Queen. With that
    Sir Bedivere departed; but so loth
    That soon he came again, and lo! the King
    Was no more there, but in the place was sound
    He knew not whether of water or in the air,
    A music new to mortals, and the smell
    As of flowers floating through the dark, as if
    The passing of that spirit sweetened earth.
    And he remembered how it was foretold
    That three sad Queens should fetch King Arthur home
    Across the water of Avalon to his rest.

        (_A chant is faintly heard in the distance during this last
        speech._)


GUENEVERE

    I am the cost. They are fallen, those famous ones
    Who made this kingdom glorious, they are fallen
    About their King; they have yielded up their strength
    And beauty and valour.

        (_The convent bell begins to toll._)

                           The grieving bell begins,
    As if it were the mouth and voice of Death
    Emptying the earth of honour and renown.
    I was the cost of all.

LYNNED

                           Lift up your heart!
    Out of such pain the immortal part of us
    Is tempered. The King passes: even now
    He is ferried over that lamenting mere,
    And voices from the starred air sing him home.
    But for us, tarriers in this wounded world,
    Love, only love, that knows no measure, love
    That understands all sorrows and all sins,
    Love that alone changes the hearts of men,
    And gives to the last heart-beat, only love
    Suffices. Come we apart and pray awhile
    For the noble and great spirits passed from us.

        (_The chant is heard nearer, and rises louder as the
        scene closes in darkness. After a pause the gloom melts,
        gradually revealing a wide distance of moonlit water, over
        which glides a barge, bearing_ KING ARTHUR, _and the three
        Queens sorrowing over him, to the island of Avalon._)




Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations
in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other
spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.

Italics are represented thus _italic_.