The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arthur

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Title: Arthur

A tragedy

Author: Laurence Binyon

Release date: March 26, 2023 [eBook #70384]

Language: English

Original publication: United States: Small Maynard and Company, 1923

Credits: Charlene Taylor, Krista Zaleski and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARTHUR ***

ARTHUR

A TRAGEDY

ARTHUR A TRAGEDY

BY LAURENCE BINYON

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.

CONTENTS

CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

ARTHUR

FIRST SCENE

SECOND SCENE

THIRD SCENE

FOURTH SCENE

FIFTH SCENE

SIXTH SCENE

SEVENTH SCENE

EIGHTH SCENE

NINTH SCENE

CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

K ING ARTHUR.

S IR LAUNCELOT.

S IR GAWAINE

}

brothers .

S IR GAHERIS

S IR GARETH

S IR BEDIVERE.

S IR LUCAN.

S IR BERNARD OF ASTOLAT.

L AVAINE

}

his sons .

T ORRE

S IR MORDRED.

S IR AGRAVAINE

}

of Mordred’s party .

S IR COLEGREVANCE

S IR MADOR

S IR PATRICE

S IR BORS

}

friends of Launcelot .

S IR KAY

DUMB SIMON, servant of Sir Bernard .

A  BISHOP.

A  MAN-AT-ARMS.

A  MESSENGER.

A  GUARD.

Q UEEN GUENEVERE.

E LAINE.

LYNNED, a nun .

Q UEEN’S LADY.

F IRST NOVICE.

S ECOND NOVICE.

T HE 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.

A table of contents has been added for the readers convenience.

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Table of Contents

ARTHUR A TRAGEDY

TO SIR JOHN AND LADY MARTIN HARVEY

CONTENTS

CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

ARTHUR A TRAGEDY

FIRST SCENE

SECOND SCENE

THIRD SCENE

FOURTH SCENE

FIFTH SCENE

SIXTH SCENE

SEVENTH SCENE

EIGHTH SCENE

NINTH SCENE

Transcriber’s Notes

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