]
So Bedivere lifted him up and walked as swiftly as he could from the
ridge, heavily, heavily down to the beach.
So Bedivere lifted him up and walked as swiftly as he could from the
ridge, heavily, heavily down to the beach.
Tennyson
"
"No," cried Pelleas, "when one's doing a lady's will one doesn't need
any help. "
Gawain stood by quivering to fight while the three knights sprang down
upon Pelleas, but Pelleas all alone beat the three of them together.
Then they rose to their feet, and he stood still while they bound him
and took him into their lady.
"You're scarcely fit to touch your victor, you dogs! " she cried to her
men, "far less bind him; but take him out as he is and let whoever wants
to untie him. Then if he comes again--"
She paused just a minute and Pelleas broke in at once with, "Lady, I
loved you and thought you very beautiful, but if you don't love me
don't trouble yourself about it; you won't see me again. "
As soon as Pelleas was put outside the gate Gawain sprang forward,
loosed his bonds, flung them over the walls and cried out:
"My faith, and why did you let those wretches tie you up so when you
were victor of all the jousts? "
"O," said Pelleas, "they were just obeying the wishes of my lady, and
her wishes are mine. "
Gawain laughed. "Lend me your horse and armor," he said, "and I'll tell
her I've killed you. Then she'll let me in just to hear all about it and
when I've made her listen I'll tell her all about you, what a great and
good fellow you are. Give me three days to melt her and on the third
evening I'll bring you golden news. "
"Don't betray me," cried Pelleas, as he handed over his horse and all
his weapons except his sword. "Aren't you the knight they call
'Light-of-love? '"
"That is just because women are so light," Gawain rejoined, laughing.
Then he rode up to the castle gate, and blew the bugle so musically that
all the hidden echoes in the walls rang out.
"Away with you! " cried Ettarre's maidens, running up to the tower
window. "Our lady doesn't love you. "
"I'm Gawain from Arthur's court," cried Gawain, lifting his vizor so
that they could see his face. "I've killed Pelleas whom you hate so.
Open the gates and I'll make you merry with my story. "
The ladies ran down crying out to Ettarre, "Pelleas is dead! Sir Gawain
of Arthur's court has killed him and is blowing the bugle to come in to
tell us. "
"Let him in," said Ettarre.
Then they opened the gates and Gawain rode inside.
For three days Pelleas wandered all about, doing nothing but thinking of
Gawain and Ettarre, and on the third night, when Gawain did not come, he
wondered why Gawain lingered with his golden news. At last he rode up to
Ettarre's castle, tied his horse outside and walked in through the wide
open gates. The court he found all dark and empty, not a light
glimmering from anywhere, so he passed out by the back gate, into the
large gardens beyond of red and white roses, where he saw three
pavilions. In one he found the three knights with their squires, all red
with revelling, and all asleep, in the second he saw the girls with
their scornful smiles frozen stiff in slumber, and in the third lay
Gawain with Ettarre, the golden crown he had won for her at the joust on
her forehead, both sleeping.
Pelleas drew back as if he had touched a snake.
"I'll kill them just as they lie," he cried in a passion. "O! to think
that any knight could be so false! "
But he was too manly to kill anyone in sleep, so he just laid his sword
across their throats and passed out to his horse, crushed his saddle
with his thighs, clenched his hands together and groaned.
"I loathe her now just as much as I loved her! " he cried, and dashing
his spurs into his horse he bounded out into the darkness and never came
back.
Meanwhile Ettarre, feeling the cold sword on her neck, awoke.
"Liar! " she cried to Gawain, as she saw that it was the sword of
Pelleas, "you haven't killed Pelleas, for he's been here and could have
killed us both just now. "
And ever after that, as those who tell the story say, the proud and
scornful Ettarre sighed for Pelleas, the one true knight in the world,
her only faithful lover, and at last pined away because he never came
back.
THE LAST TOURNAMENT.
One day while King Arthur and Sir Lancelot were riding far, far beneath
a winding wall of rock they heard the wail of a child.
A half-dead oak tree climbed up the sides of the rock and up in mid-air
it held an eagle's nest. Through its branches rushed a rainy wind and
through the wind came the voice of a little child. Lancelot sprang up
the crag and from the nest at the tree-top he brought down a baby girl.
Round her neck was twined a necklace of rubies, wound round and round
three times.
Arthur took the baby and gave it to Queen Guinevere, who soon loved it
very tenderly and named her "Nestling. " But Nestling had caught a
terrible cold in her strange little home in the wild eagle's nest and
died. And after that whenever the Queen looked at the ruby necklace it
made her very sad so she gave it to Arthur and said:
"Take these jewels of our Dead Innocence and make them a prize at a
tournament. "
"Just as you wish," cried the King, "but why don't you wear the diamonds
that I found for you in the tarn, which Lancelot won for you at the
jousts? "
"Don't you know that they slipped out of my hands the very day that he
gave them to me, while I was leaning out of the window to see Elaine in
the barge on the river? But these rubies will bring better luck than
that to the lady who gets them, for they didn't come from a dead king's
skeleton, but from the body of a sweet baby girl. Perhaps, who knows,
the purest of your knights will win them at the jousts for the purest of
my ladies. "
So the great jousts were proclaimed with trumpets that blew all along
the streets of Camelot and out across the faded fields to the farthest
towers, and everywhere the knights armed themselves for a day of glory
before the king.
But just the day before they were to be held, as King Arthur sat in his
great hall, a churl staggered in through the door; his face was all
striped with the lashes of a dog whip, his nose was broken, one eye was
out, a hand was off and the other hand dangled at his side with
shattered fingers.
"My poor Churl," cried the king, full of indignant pity, "what beast or
fiend has been after you? Or was it a man who hurt you so? "
"He took them all away," sputtered the churl, "a hundred good ones. It
was the Red Knight. He--Lord, I was tending sheep, my pigs, a hundred
good ones, and he drove them all off to his tower. And when I said that
you were always kind to poor churls like me as well as gentle lords and
ladies, he made for me and would have killed me outright if he didn't
want me to bring you message and made me swear that I would tell you.
"He said, 'Tell the king that I have made a Round Table of my own in the
North, and that whatever his knights swear not to do mine swear that
they will do; and tell him his hour has come, and that the heathen are
after him, and that his long lance is broken, and that his sword
Excalibur is a straw. '"
Then Arthur turned to Sir Kay the Seneschal and said: "Take this churl
of mine and tend him very carefully as if he were the son of a king
until all his hurts are healed," and as Sir Kay left the hall with the
churl the king went on to Lancelot: "The heathen have been quiet for a
long, long time, but now they are rising again in the North, and I will
go with my younger knights to put them down, so as to make the whole
island safe from one shore to the other. And while I go away, you, Sir
Lancelot, will sit in my chair to-morrow at the tournament and be the
judge there of the field. For why should you anyway care to go in again
yourself, when you've already won the nine diamonds for the queen? "
"Very well," replied Lancelot, "if you wish, although it would be better
if you would let me go off with the younger knights and you stay here
with the others and watch the tournament. But, if not, all is well? "
"Is all really well? " cried the king, "or have I just dreamed that our
knights are not quite so true and manly as they used to be and that my
noble realm which has been built up by noble deeds and noble vows is
going to fall back into beastly roughness and violence again? "
He gathered all the younger Knights of the Round Table together and
started away with them down the hilly streets of Camelot, and at the
gateway turned sharply North.
The next morning, the day of the Tournament, the Tournament of the Dead
Innocence they called it, a wet wind blew. But the streets were hung
with white samite, the fountains were filled with wine, and round each
fountain twelve little girls, all dressed in purest white sat with the
cups of gold and gave drinks to all that passed. The stately galleries
were filled with white-robed ladies. Lancelot mounted the steps to the
king's dragon-carved chair, the trumpets blew and the jousts began.
[Illustration: TWELVE LITTLE GIRLS GAVE DRINK TO ALL WHO PASSED. ]
But Lancelot did not think of the sport before him, he was dreaming over
and over again the words of the king about the kingdom, and many rules
of the tournament were broken, and he didn't say a word. Once one of the
knights, who was overthrown cursed the little baby girl, the dead
innocence, and the king, and once one of the knight's helmets became
unlaced and the wicked face of Modred peeped through like a vermin, but
Lancelot didn't see.
After a while a roar of welcome shouted all round the galleries and
lists as a new knight came in dressed from his head to his feet in green
armor all trimmed with tiny silver deer, with holly berries on his
helmet crest. It was Sir Tristram of the Woods who had just crossed over
the seas from Brittany. Lancelot had fought with him long ago and
conquered him, and now he saw him and longed to fight him again. As
many, many knights of the Round Table fell down before the new knight
Lancelot gripped the golden dragons on each side of his throne to keep
himself in his seat, and groaned with passion. "Craven crests! oh,
shame! " he muttered, "the glory of the Round Table is gone. "
So Tristram won the jousts and Sir Lancelot gave him the jewels.
"The hands with which you take these rubies are red," he said as he put
the necklace in Tristram's hands.
Then the thick rain began to fall, the plumes on the helmets of the
knights drooped and the dresses of the ladies were mussed. When they
went inside to feast the ladies took off their pure white gowns and
robed themselves in all the colors of the rainbow and field flowers,
like poppies, blue-bells, kingcups, and one said she was glad the time
to wear the pure innocent simple white was over. They grew so loud in
their frolics that at last the queen, who was angry that Sir Tristram
had won the prize and angry with the lawless youths, broke up the
banquet.
The next morning as Sir Tristram stood before the hall little Dagonet,
the fool, came dancing along and Sir Tristram threw his rubies round
the little fool's neck as he skipped about like a withered leaf, asking
him why he danced.
"It's stupid to dance without music," Tristram said, and picked up his
harp and began to twangle a tune on it; but as soon as Sir Tristram
began to play Dagonet stopped his dance. "And why don't you go on
skipping, Sir Fool? " asked Tristram.
"Because I'd rather skip twenty years to the music of my little brain
than skip a minute to the broken music you make. "
"And what music have I broken? " cried Sir Tristram. "Arthur the King's
music," cried little Dagonet, skipping again and again as Sir Tristram
ceased. Then down the city he danced all the way, while Sir Tristram
passed out into the lonely avenues of the forests. He rode on toward
Lyonesse and the West, thinking of Isolt, the White, whom he loved, and
how he would put the rubies round her neck.
[Illustration: LITTLE DAGONET SKIPPING AGAIN AND AGAIN. ]
Arthur, meanwhile, with his hundred spearmen had gone far, far away,
until at last over the countless reeds of marshes and islands he saw a
huge tower glaring in the wide-winged sunset of the West. As he drew
near he saw that the tower doors stood open and heard roars of rioting
and wicked songs of ruffian men and women.
"Look," cried one of his knights, for there high on a grim dead tree
before the tower, a brother of the Round Table was swinging by his neck,
his shield flowing with a shower of blood on a branch near by.
All the knights wanted to dash forward and blow the great horn that hung
beside the gate, but Arthur waved them back and went himself. He blew so
hard that the horn roared until all the grasses of the marshes flared
up, and out of the castle gate sallied a knight dressed from tip to toe
in blood-red arms, the Red Knight.
"Aren't you the king? " he bellowed, "the king that keeps us all with
such strict vows that we can't have any pleasures, a milky-hearted king?
Look to your life now! "
Arthur scorned to speak to so vile a man or to fight him with his sword.
He simply let the drunkard, stretching out from his horse to strike,
fall head-heavy, over from the castle causeway to the swamp below.
Then all the Round Table Knights roared and shouted, leaped down on the
fallen man, trampled out his face in the mire, sank his head so that it
could not be seen, and, still shouting, sprang through the open doors
among the people within. They hurled their swords right and left on men
and women, hurled over the tables and the wines and slew and slew until
all the rafters rang with yells and all the pavements streamed with
blood. Then they set the tower all afire and half the night through it
flushed the long low meadows and marshlands and lazily plunging sea with
its flames. That was how Arthur made the ways of the island safe from
one shore to the other.
Sir Tristram, not many nights after, reached Tintagil, where Isolt, the
White, lived in a crown of towers, where she now sat with the low
sea-sunset glorying her hair and glossy throat, thinking of him and of
Mark, her Cornish lord.
When Tristram's footsteps came grinding up the tower steps she flushed,
started out to meet him and threw her white arms about him.
"Not Mark, not Mark! " she cried. "At first your footsteps fluttered me,
for Mark steals into his own castle like a cat. "
"No, it's I," said Sir Tristram, "and don't think about your Mark any
more, for he isn't yours any longer. "
"But listen," she cried, "to-day he went away for a three days' hunt, he
said, and that means that he may be back in an hour for that's his way.
My God, my hate for him is as strong as my love for you. Let me tell you
how I sat here one evening thinking of you, one black midsummer night,
all alone, dreaming of you, and sometimes speaking your name aloud, when
suddenly there Mark stood behind me, for that's his way to steal behind
one in the dark.
"'Tristram has married her! ' he hissed out and then this tower shook
with such a roar that I swooned away. "
"Come," cried Sir Tristram, laughing, "never mind, I'm hungry, give me
some meat and wine. "
So they ate and drank, talked and laughed about Mark with his long
crane-like legs, and Sir Tristram took a harp and sang a song. Then
while the last light of the day glimmered away he swung the ruby
necklace before Isolt.
"It's the fruit of a magical oak-tree that grew mid air," he cried, "and
was won by Sir Tristram as a tourney prize to bring to you. "
Flinging the rubies round her neck he had just touched her jeweled
throat with his lips when behind him rose a shadow and a shriek.
"Mark's way! " cried Mark, the Cornish king, and he clove Tristram
through the brain.
* * * * *
That very night Arthur came back from the North, and as he climbed up
the tower steps to go to the queen, in the dark of the tower something
pulled at him. It was little Dagonet.
"Who are you? " said the king.
"I'm little Dagonet, your fool," sobbed the little jester, "and I cry
because I can never make you laugh again. "
THE PASSING OF ARTHUR.
One night King Arthur saw Sir Gawain in a dream, and Gawain, who had
been killed, shrilly called out to him through the wind:
"Hail King! to-morrow you are going to pass away, and there's a land of
rest for you. Farewell! "
But when Arthur told his dream to Sir Bedivere, good old Sir Bedivere
replied, "Don't mind what dreams tell you, but get your knights together
and go out to the West to meet Sir Modred, who has stirred up against
you so many of the knights you love. They all know in their hearts that
you are king. Go and conquer them as of old. "
So the king took his army by night and pushed upon Modred league after
league, until they reached the Western part of Lyonesse where the long
mountains ended in the moaning sea. There Modred's men could flee no
farther, so on the waste lands by the barren sea they began that last
dim weird battle of the West.
A white chill mist slept over all the land and water so that even Arthur
became confused since he could not see which were his friends and which
were his foes. Friends killed friends, some saw the faces of old ghosts
looking in upon the battle. Spears were splintered, shields were broken,
swords clashed, helmets were shattered, men shrieked and looked up to
heaven for help but saw only the white, white mists. There were cries
for light and moans.
At last toward the close of the day a hush fell over the whole shore; a
bitter wind from the North blew the mist aside and the pale king looked
across the battlefield. But no one was there only the waves breaking in
among the dead faces.
But bold Bedivere said: "My King! the man who hates you stands there,
Modred, the traitor of your house! "
"Don't call this traitor a person of my house," the king replied. "The
men of my house are not those who have lived under one roof with me, but
those who always call me their king. "
With that, Arthur dashed after Modred. Modred struck at the king's
helmet, which had grown thin with all his heathen wars. Arthur with his
sword Excalibur struck Modred dead, then fell down himself almost killed
with the wound through his helmet.
Sir Bedivere lifted him up and carried him to a chapel near by.
"Take my sword, Excalibur," said the King, "and fling it out into the
middle of the sea, watch what happens to it and then come back at once
and tell me. "
"It doesn't seem right to leave you all alone here," said Sir Bedivere,
"when you are wounded and ill, but since you wish me to go, I will, and
will do all that you have told me. "
He slipped away by zigzag paths, points and jutting rock to the shining
level of the sea. There he drew out the sword Excalibur. The winter moon
sparkled against its hilt and made it twinkle with its diamond sparks,
with myriads of topaz lights and fine jewelry work. Bedivere gazed so
long at it that both his eyes were dazzled as he stood, and he wondered
whether he ought to throw away so beautiful a thing. At last he decided
to hide it away among the water-flags that grew along shore.
"Did you do as I said? " asked the king, when he saw him. "What did you
see? "
"I heard the ripple washing in the reeds," said Sir Bedivere, "and the
wild water lapping on the rock. "
"You are not giving me a true answer," said the king, faint and pale.
"It's shameful for men to lie. Quickly go again and as you are true and
dear, do just as I bade you. Watch and bring me word. "
Then Sir Bedivere went the second time and paced up and down beside the
pebbly water, counting the dewey pebbles, but when he saw the wonderful
sword he clapped his hands together and cried:
"If I threw that sword away, a precious thing will be lost forever. The
King is ill; he does not know what he is doing. His great sword ought to
be kept, then in long years hereafter people will look at it at the
tournament and they will say: 'This was the great Arthur's sword
Excalibur which was made by the lonely lady of the Lake, working in the
deep sea for nine years. '"
So the second time he hid Excalibur and strode very slowly back to the
king.
"What did you see or what did you hear? " asked Arthur breathing very
heavily.
"I heard the water lapping on the rock and the long ripples washing in
the reeds. "
"Unkind! miserable! untrue! unknightly! " cried Arthur, filled with
anger. "I see what you are, for you are the only one left me of all the
knights, yet you would betray me for my sword, either to sell it or like
a girl, because you love its beauty. Go out now the third time and if
you do not throw out my sword Excalibur I'll get up and kill you with my
hands. "
At this Sir Bedivere sprang up like a flash and ran down leaping lightly
over the ridges, plunged into the beds of bulrushes, clutched the sword,
wheeled it round strongly and threw it as far as he could.
Excalibur made lightning in the moonlight as it flashed round and round
and whirled in an arch, shooting far out to the water. But before it
quite dipped into the sea an arm robed in white samite, mystic and
wonderful, rose out of the waves, caught it by the hilt, brandished it
three times and drew it under.
"Now I can see by your eyes that you have done it! " cried the King.
"Speak out; what have you seen or heard? "
"Sir King," cried Sir Bedivere, "I closed my eyes when I picked it up so
that I would not be turned from my purpose of throwing it into the
water, for I could live three lives, Sir King, and I wouldn't again see
such a wonderful thing as your sword. Sir, I threw it out with both
hands, wheeling it round and when I looked an arm robed in white samite
reached up out of the water and caught it by the hilt, brandished it
three times and drew it under. "
"Carry me to the shore," said the king.
[Illustration: AN ARM ROBED IN WHITE SAMITE.
]
So Bedivere lifted him up and walked as swiftly as he could from the
ridge, heavily, heavily down to the beach. As they reached the shore
they saw a black barge beside the water filled with stately people all
dressed in black. Among the people were three queens wearing crowns of
gold.
"Put me into the barge," cried Arthur.
So they came to the barge and the three queens held out their hands and
took the king.
The tallest and fairest of them held his head upon her lap loosed his
shattered helmet and chafed his hands, and moaned tenderly over him.
"Ah, my lord Arthur," cried Sir Bedivere, "where shall I go now? For
the old times are past now and the whole Round Table is broken. "
"Go and pray," cried the king. "Farewell, for I am going a very long way
to the lovely Island-valley of Avilion where it will never hail nor rain
nor snow, and where the loud winds never blow. It lies in deep meadows,
beautiful with lawns and fruit trees and flowery glens. "
Then the barge set sail and oar, and moved away from the shore.
"The king is gone! " groaned Bedivere.
He walked away from the shore and climbed up to the highest peaks and
ridges about him and looked far, far away. And from far away out beyond
the world he thought he heard sounds from a beautiful city as if every
one in it all together were welcoming a great King who had just come
back from his wars.
END.
Transcriber's Note:
Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
There are inconsistencies with italicising text that refers to
illustrations. I have left these as in the original text.
Corrections made include the following:
p34. ecstacy => ecstasy
p37. meaintime => meantime
p52. magnificientn => magnificent
p66. Springly => Springing
p75. Geriant => Geraint
p90. jealously => jealousy
p100. though => through
p101. passed => past
p101. musn't => mustn't
p106. heathern => heathen
p106. Gunievere => Guinevere
p117. to => that
p146. Mordred => Modred
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"No," cried Pelleas, "when one's doing a lady's will one doesn't need
any help. "
Gawain stood by quivering to fight while the three knights sprang down
upon Pelleas, but Pelleas all alone beat the three of them together.
Then they rose to their feet, and he stood still while they bound him
and took him into their lady.
"You're scarcely fit to touch your victor, you dogs! " she cried to her
men, "far less bind him; but take him out as he is and let whoever wants
to untie him. Then if he comes again--"
She paused just a minute and Pelleas broke in at once with, "Lady, I
loved you and thought you very beautiful, but if you don't love me
don't trouble yourself about it; you won't see me again. "
As soon as Pelleas was put outside the gate Gawain sprang forward,
loosed his bonds, flung them over the walls and cried out:
"My faith, and why did you let those wretches tie you up so when you
were victor of all the jousts? "
"O," said Pelleas, "they were just obeying the wishes of my lady, and
her wishes are mine. "
Gawain laughed. "Lend me your horse and armor," he said, "and I'll tell
her I've killed you. Then she'll let me in just to hear all about it and
when I've made her listen I'll tell her all about you, what a great and
good fellow you are. Give me three days to melt her and on the third
evening I'll bring you golden news. "
"Don't betray me," cried Pelleas, as he handed over his horse and all
his weapons except his sword. "Aren't you the knight they call
'Light-of-love? '"
"That is just because women are so light," Gawain rejoined, laughing.
Then he rode up to the castle gate, and blew the bugle so musically that
all the hidden echoes in the walls rang out.
"Away with you! " cried Ettarre's maidens, running up to the tower
window. "Our lady doesn't love you. "
"I'm Gawain from Arthur's court," cried Gawain, lifting his vizor so
that they could see his face. "I've killed Pelleas whom you hate so.
Open the gates and I'll make you merry with my story. "
The ladies ran down crying out to Ettarre, "Pelleas is dead! Sir Gawain
of Arthur's court has killed him and is blowing the bugle to come in to
tell us. "
"Let him in," said Ettarre.
Then they opened the gates and Gawain rode inside.
For three days Pelleas wandered all about, doing nothing but thinking of
Gawain and Ettarre, and on the third night, when Gawain did not come, he
wondered why Gawain lingered with his golden news. At last he rode up to
Ettarre's castle, tied his horse outside and walked in through the wide
open gates. The court he found all dark and empty, not a light
glimmering from anywhere, so he passed out by the back gate, into the
large gardens beyond of red and white roses, where he saw three
pavilions. In one he found the three knights with their squires, all red
with revelling, and all asleep, in the second he saw the girls with
their scornful smiles frozen stiff in slumber, and in the third lay
Gawain with Ettarre, the golden crown he had won for her at the joust on
her forehead, both sleeping.
Pelleas drew back as if he had touched a snake.
"I'll kill them just as they lie," he cried in a passion. "O! to think
that any knight could be so false! "
But he was too manly to kill anyone in sleep, so he just laid his sword
across their throats and passed out to his horse, crushed his saddle
with his thighs, clenched his hands together and groaned.
"I loathe her now just as much as I loved her! " he cried, and dashing
his spurs into his horse he bounded out into the darkness and never came
back.
Meanwhile Ettarre, feeling the cold sword on her neck, awoke.
"Liar! " she cried to Gawain, as she saw that it was the sword of
Pelleas, "you haven't killed Pelleas, for he's been here and could have
killed us both just now. "
And ever after that, as those who tell the story say, the proud and
scornful Ettarre sighed for Pelleas, the one true knight in the world,
her only faithful lover, and at last pined away because he never came
back.
THE LAST TOURNAMENT.
One day while King Arthur and Sir Lancelot were riding far, far beneath
a winding wall of rock they heard the wail of a child.
A half-dead oak tree climbed up the sides of the rock and up in mid-air
it held an eagle's nest. Through its branches rushed a rainy wind and
through the wind came the voice of a little child. Lancelot sprang up
the crag and from the nest at the tree-top he brought down a baby girl.
Round her neck was twined a necklace of rubies, wound round and round
three times.
Arthur took the baby and gave it to Queen Guinevere, who soon loved it
very tenderly and named her "Nestling. " But Nestling had caught a
terrible cold in her strange little home in the wild eagle's nest and
died. And after that whenever the Queen looked at the ruby necklace it
made her very sad so she gave it to Arthur and said:
"Take these jewels of our Dead Innocence and make them a prize at a
tournament. "
"Just as you wish," cried the King, "but why don't you wear the diamonds
that I found for you in the tarn, which Lancelot won for you at the
jousts? "
"Don't you know that they slipped out of my hands the very day that he
gave them to me, while I was leaning out of the window to see Elaine in
the barge on the river? But these rubies will bring better luck than
that to the lady who gets them, for they didn't come from a dead king's
skeleton, but from the body of a sweet baby girl. Perhaps, who knows,
the purest of your knights will win them at the jousts for the purest of
my ladies. "
So the great jousts were proclaimed with trumpets that blew all along
the streets of Camelot and out across the faded fields to the farthest
towers, and everywhere the knights armed themselves for a day of glory
before the king.
But just the day before they were to be held, as King Arthur sat in his
great hall, a churl staggered in through the door; his face was all
striped with the lashes of a dog whip, his nose was broken, one eye was
out, a hand was off and the other hand dangled at his side with
shattered fingers.
"My poor Churl," cried the king, full of indignant pity, "what beast or
fiend has been after you? Or was it a man who hurt you so? "
"He took them all away," sputtered the churl, "a hundred good ones. It
was the Red Knight. He--Lord, I was tending sheep, my pigs, a hundred
good ones, and he drove them all off to his tower. And when I said that
you were always kind to poor churls like me as well as gentle lords and
ladies, he made for me and would have killed me outright if he didn't
want me to bring you message and made me swear that I would tell you.
"He said, 'Tell the king that I have made a Round Table of my own in the
North, and that whatever his knights swear not to do mine swear that
they will do; and tell him his hour has come, and that the heathen are
after him, and that his long lance is broken, and that his sword
Excalibur is a straw. '"
Then Arthur turned to Sir Kay the Seneschal and said: "Take this churl
of mine and tend him very carefully as if he were the son of a king
until all his hurts are healed," and as Sir Kay left the hall with the
churl the king went on to Lancelot: "The heathen have been quiet for a
long, long time, but now they are rising again in the North, and I will
go with my younger knights to put them down, so as to make the whole
island safe from one shore to the other. And while I go away, you, Sir
Lancelot, will sit in my chair to-morrow at the tournament and be the
judge there of the field. For why should you anyway care to go in again
yourself, when you've already won the nine diamonds for the queen? "
"Very well," replied Lancelot, "if you wish, although it would be better
if you would let me go off with the younger knights and you stay here
with the others and watch the tournament. But, if not, all is well? "
"Is all really well? " cried the king, "or have I just dreamed that our
knights are not quite so true and manly as they used to be and that my
noble realm which has been built up by noble deeds and noble vows is
going to fall back into beastly roughness and violence again? "
He gathered all the younger Knights of the Round Table together and
started away with them down the hilly streets of Camelot, and at the
gateway turned sharply North.
The next morning, the day of the Tournament, the Tournament of the Dead
Innocence they called it, a wet wind blew. But the streets were hung
with white samite, the fountains were filled with wine, and round each
fountain twelve little girls, all dressed in purest white sat with the
cups of gold and gave drinks to all that passed. The stately galleries
were filled with white-robed ladies. Lancelot mounted the steps to the
king's dragon-carved chair, the trumpets blew and the jousts began.
[Illustration: TWELVE LITTLE GIRLS GAVE DRINK TO ALL WHO PASSED. ]
But Lancelot did not think of the sport before him, he was dreaming over
and over again the words of the king about the kingdom, and many rules
of the tournament were broken, and he didn't say a word. Once one of the
knights, who was overthrown cursed the little baby girl, the dead
innocence, and the king, and once one of the knight's helmets became
unlaced and the wicked face of Modred peeped through like a vermin, but
Lancelot didn't see.
After a while a roar of welcome shouted all round the galleries and
lists as a new knight came in dressed from his head to his feet in green
armor all trimmed with tiny silver deer, with holly berries on his
helmet crest. It was Sir Tristram of the Woods who had just crossed over
the seas from Brittany. Lancelot had fought with him long ago and
conquered him, and now he saw him and longed to fight him again. As
many, many knights of the Round Table fell down before the new knight
Lancelot gripped the golden dragons on each side of his throne to keep
himself in his seat, and groaned with passion. "Craven crests! oh,
shame! " he muttered, "the glory of the Round Table is gone. "
So Tristram won the jousts and Sir Lancelot gave him the jewels.
"The hands with which you take these rubies are red," he said as he put
the necklace in Tristram's hands.
Then the thick rain began to fall, the plumes on the helmets of the
knights drooped and the dresses of the ladies were mussed. When they
went inside to feast the ladies took off their pure white gowns and
robed themselves in all the colors of the rainbow and field flowers,
like poppies, blue-bells, kingcups, and one said she was glad the time
to wear the pure innocent simple white was over. They grew so loud in
their frolics that at last the queen, who was angry that Sir Tristram
had won the prize and angry with the lawless youths, broke up the
banquet.
The next morning as Sir Tristram stood before the hall little Dagonet,
the fool, came dancing along and Sir Tristram threw his rubies round
the little fool's neck as he skipped about like a withered leaf, asking
him why he danced.
"It's stupid to dance without music," Tristram said, and picked up his
harp and began to twangle a tune on it; but as soon as Sir Tristram
began to play Dagonet stopped his dance. "And why don't you go on
skipping, Sir Fool? " asked Tristram.
"Because I'd rather skip twenty years to the music of my little brain
than skip a minute to the broken music you make. "
"And what music have I broken? " cried Sir Tristram. "Arthur the King's
music," cried little Dagonet, skipping again and again as Sir Tristram
ceased. Then down the city he danced all the way, while Sir Tristram
passed out into the lonely avenues of the forests. He rode on toward
Lyonesse and the West, thinking of Isolt, the White, whom he loved, and
how he would put the rubies round her neck.
[Illustration: LITTLE DAGONET SKIPPING AGAIN AND AGAIN. ]
Arthur, meanwhile, with his hundred spearmen had gone far, far away,
until at last over the countless reeds of marshes and islands he saw a
huge tower glaring in the wide-winged sunset of the West. As he drew
near he saw that the tower doors stood open and heard roars of rioting
and wicked songs of ruffian men and women.
"Look," cried one of his knights, for there high on a grim dead tree
before the tower, a brother of the Round Table was swinging by his neck,
his shield flowing with a shower of blood on a branch near by.
All the knights wanted to dash forward and blow the great horn that hung
beside the gate, but Arthur waved them back and went himself. He blew so
hard that the horn roared until all the grasses of the marshes flared
up, and out of the castle gate sallied a knight dressed from tip to toe
in blood-red arms, the Red Knight.
"Aren't you the king? " he bellowed, "the king that keeps us all with
such strict vows that we can't have any pleasures, a milky-hearted king?
Look to your life now! "
Arthur scorned to speak to so vile a man or to fight him with his sword.
He simply let the drunkard, stretching out from his horse to strike,
fall head-heavy, over from the castle causeway to the swamp below.
Then all the Round Table Knights roared and shouted, leaped down on the
fallen man, trampled out his face in the mire, sank his head so that it
could not be seen, and, still shouting, sprang through the open doors
among the people within. They hurled their swords right and left on men
and women, hurled over the tables and the wines and slew and slew until
all the rafters rang with yells and all the pavements streamed with
blood. Then they set the tower all afire and half the night through it
flushed the long low meadows and marshlands and lazily plunging sea with
its flames. That was how Arthur made the ways of the island safe from
one shore to the other.
Sir Tristram, not many nights after, reached Tintagil, where Isolt, the
White, lived in a crown of towers, where she now sat with the low
sea-sunset glorying her hair and glossy throat, thinking of him and of
Mark, her Cornish lord.
When Tristram's footsteps came grinding up the tower steps she flushed,
started out to meet him and threw her white arms about him.
"Not Mark, not Mark! " she cried. "At first your footsteps fluttered me,
for Mark steals into his own castle like a cat. "
"No, it's I," said Sir Tristram, "and don't think about your Mark any
more, for he isn't yours any longer. "
"But listen," she cried, "to-day he went away for a three days' hunt, he
said, and that means that he may be back in an hour for that's his way.
My God, my hate for him is as strong as my love for you. Let me tell you
how I sat here one evening thinking of you, one black midsummer night,
all alone, dreaming of you, and sometimes speaking your name aloud, when
suddenly there Mark stood behind me, for that's his way to steal behind
one in the dark.
"'Tristram has married her! ' he hissed out and then this tower shook
with such a roar that I swooned away. "
"Come," cried Sir Tristram, laughing, "never mind, I'm hungry, give me
some meat and wine. "
So they ate and drank, talked and laughed about Mark with his long
crane-like legs, and Sir Tristram took a harp and sang a song. Then
while the last light of the day glimmered away he swung the ruby
necklace before Isolt.
"It's the fruit of a magical oak-tree that grew mid air," he cried, "and
was won by Sir Tristram as a tourney prize to bring to you. "
Flinging the rubies round her neck he had just touched her jeweled
throat with his lips when behind him rose a shadow and a shriek.
"Mark's way! " cried Mark, the Cornish king, and he clove Tristram
through the brain.
* * * * *
That very night Arthur came back from the North, and as he climbed up
the tower steps to go to the queen, in the dark of the tower something
pulled at him. It was little Dagonet.
"Who are you? " said the king.
"I'm little Dagonet, your fool," sobbed the little jester, "and I cry
because I can never make you laugh again. "
THE PASSING OF ARTHUR.
One night King Arthur saw Sir Gawain in a dream, and Gawain, who had
been killed, shrilly called out to him through the wind:
"Hail King! to-morrow you are going to pass away, and there's a land of
rest for you. Farewell! "
But when Arthur told his dream to Sir Bedivere, good old Sir Bedivere
replied, "Don't mind what dreams tell you, but get your knights together
and go out to the West to meet Sir Modred, who has stirred up against
you so many of the knights you love. They all know in their hearts that
you are king. Go and conquer them as of old. "
So the king took his army by night and pushed upon Modred league after
league, until they reached the Western part of Lyonesse where the long
mountains ended in the moaning sea. There Modred's men could flee no
farther, so on the waste lands by the barren sea they began that last
dim weird battle of the West.
A white chill mist slept over all the land and water so that even Arthur
became confused since he could not see which were his friends and which
were his foes. Friends killed friends, some saw the faces of old ghosts
looking in upon the battle. Spears were splintered, shields were broken,
swords clashed, helmets were shattered, men shrieked and looked up to
heaven for help but saw only the white, white mists. There were cries
for light and moans.
At last toward the close of the day a hush fell over the whole shore; a
bitter wind from the North blew the mist aside and the pale king looked
across the battlefield. But no one was there only the waves breaking in
among the dead faces.
But bold Bedivere said: "My King! the man who hates you stands there,
Modred, the traitor of your house! "
"Don't call this traitor a person of my house," the king replied. "The
men of my house are not those who have lived under one roof with me, but
those who always call me their king. "
With that, Arthur dashed after Modred. Modred struck at the king's
helmet, which had grown thin with all his heathen wars. Arthur with his
sword Excalibur struck Modred dead, then fell down himself almost killed
with the wound through his helmet.
Sir Bedivere lifted him up and carried him to a chapel near by.
"Take my sword, Excalibur," said the King, "and fling it out into the
middle of the sea, watch what happens to it and then come back at once
and tell me. "
"It doesn't seem right to leave you all alone here," said Sir Bedivere,
"when you are wounded and ill, but since you wish me to go, I will, and
will do all that you have told me. "
He slipped away by zigzag paths, points and jutting rock to the shining
level of the sea. There he drew out the sword Excalibur. The winter moon
sparkled against its hilt and made it twinkle with its diamond sparks,
with myriads of topaz lights and fine jewelry work. Bedivere gazed so
long at it that both his eyes were dazzled as he stood, and he wondered
whether he ought to throw away so beautiful a thing. At last he decided
to hide it away among the water-flags that grew along shore.
"Did you do as I said? " asked the king, when he saw him. "What did you
see? "
"I heard the ripple washing in the reeds," said Sir Bedivere, "and the
wild water lapping on the rock. "
"You are not giving me a true answer," said the king, faint and pale.
"It's shameful for men to lie. Quickly go again and as you are true and
dear, do just as I bade you. Watch and bring me word. "
Then Sir Bedivere went the second time and paced up and down beside the
pebbly water, counting the dewey pebbles, but when he saw the wonderful
sword he clapped his hands together and cried:
"If I threw that sword away, a precious thing will be lost forever. The
King is ill; he does not know what he is doing. His great sword ought to
be kept, then in long years hereafter people will look at it at the
tournament and they will say: 'This was the great Arthur's sword
Excalibur which was made by the lonely lady of the Lake, working in the
deep sea for nine years. '"
So the second time he hid Excalibur and strode very slowly back to the
king.
"What did you see or what did you hear? " asked Arthur breathing very
heavily.
"I heard the water lapping on the rock and the long ripples washing in
the reeds. "
"Unkind! miserable! untrue! unknightly! " cried Arthur, filled with
anger. "I see what you are, for you are the only one left me of all the
knights, yet you would betray me for my sword, either to sell it or like
a girl, because you love its beauty. Go out now the third time and if
you do not throw out my sword Excalibur I'll get up and kill you with my
hands. "
At this Sir Bedivere sprang up like a flash and ran down leaping lightly
over the ridges, plunged into the beds of bulrushes, clutched the sword,
wheeled it round strongly and threw it as far as he could.
Excalibur made lightning in the moonlight as it flashed round and round
and whirled in an arch, shooting far out to the water. But before it
quite dipped into the sea an arm robed in white samite, mystic and
wonderful, rose out of the waves, caught it by the hilt, brandished it
three times and drew it under.
"Now I can see by your eyes that you have done it! " cried the King.
"Speak out; what have you seen or heard? "
"Sir King," cried Sir Bedivere, "I closed my eyes when I picked it up so
that I would not be turned from my purpose of throwing it into the
water, for I could live three lives, Sir King, and I wouldn't again see
such a wonderful thing as your sword. Sir, I threw it out with both
hands, wheeling it round and when I looked an arm robed in white samite
reached up out of the water and caught it by the hilt, brandished it
three times and drew it under. "
"Carry me to the shore," said the king.
[Illustration: AN ARM ROBED IN WHITE SAMITE.
]
So Bedivere lifted him up and walked as swiftly as he could from the
ridge, heavily, heavily down to the beach. As they reached the shore
they saw a black barge beside the water filled with stately people all
dressed in black. Among the people were three queens wearing crowns of
gold.
"Put me into the barge," cried Arthur.
So they came to the barge and the three queens held out their hands and
took the king.
The tallest and fairest of them held his head upon her lap loosed his
shattered helmet and chafed his hands, and moaned tenderly over him.
"Ah, my lord Arthur," cried Sir Bedivere, "where shall I go now? For
the old times are past now and the whole Round Table is broken. "
"Go and pray," cried the king. "Farewell, for I am going a very long way
to the lovely Island-valley of Avilion where it will never hail nor rain
nor snow, and where the loud winds never blow. It lies in deep meadows,
beautiful with lawns and fruit trees and flowery glens. "
Then the barge set sail and oar, and moved away from the shore.
"The king is gone! " groaned Bedivere.
He walked away from the shore and climbed up to the highest peaks and
ridges about him and looked far, far away. And from far away out beyond
the world he thought he heard sounds from a beautiful city as if every
one in it all together were welcoming a great King who had just come
back from his wars.
END.
Transcriber's Note:
Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
There are inconsistencies with italicising text that refers to
illustrations. I have left these as in the original text.
Corrections made include the following:
p34. ecstacy => ecstasy
p37. meaintime => meantime
p52. magnificientn => magnificent
p66. Springly => Springing
p75. Geriant => Geraint
p90. jealously => jealousy
p100. though => through
p101. passed => past
p101. musn't => mustn't
p106. heathern => heathen
p106. Gunievere => Guinevere
p117. to => that
p146. Mordred => Modred
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