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EXCALIBUR: AN ARTHURIAN DRAMA
by
RALPH ADAMS CRAM
Advertisement:
Excalibur is the introductory drama of a contemplated trilogy founded on the Arthurian legends as the perfect embodiment of the spirit and impulse of that great Christian epoch we call Mediævalism. The attempt is again made - however inadequately - to do for the epic of our own race, and in a form adapted to dramatic presentation, a small measure of that which Richard Wagner achieved in an allied art for the Teutonic legends.
Excalibur was completed, and in its present form, in the year 1893. Since then no other than verbal changes have been made. This is said for the reason that during the last fifteen years several new dramatic versions of the Arthurian epic have appeared, and the correspondences between them and the present attempt must of necessity be somewhat marked. In every case, however, these are due to the nature of the subject and the compulsion of established and indestructible ideas.
-- THE AUTHOR
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Arthur Pendragon : afterwards King of England.
Vassals of England:
Uriens , King of Gore,
Nentres , King of Garlot,
Leodegrance , King of Cameliard,
Duke Lucas of the Southfolk,
Duke Brastias of Estsex,
Rience , King of North Wales,
English Knights.:
Sir Launcelot du Lake,
Sir Tor,
Sir Pelleas,
Sir Ector,
Sir Breuse saunce Pité,
The Archbishop of Canterbury.
Sir Kay , the Seneschal.
Merlin.
Morgan le Fay , Queen of Gore.
Guenever , Daughter of King Leodegrance.
Dame Columbe , Wife to Sir Kay.
Ettard.
Ysed.
Nimue.
Roman Ambassadors, Barons, Knights, Esquires, Citizens, Priests, Monks, Heralds, Pages, and Lake Girls.
Scene , England and Wales.
Excalibur
Prologue
The curtains open on impenetrable darkness.
Merlin ( invisible ).
Pendragon passes; now Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon, on Pendragon's throne.
A kingdom passes; now a kingdom's king
Shall raise a kingdom for the King of kings.
( Merlin's figure becomes faintly visible, poised in mid-air. )
Morgan le Fay, rise from the riven rock,
Rise through the waters of the Magic Mere,
Merlin, thy master, calls.
The night is done.
I hear the trumpets of the trampling day,
I see the glimmer of the torch of dawn
Dance like the northern fires along the sky.
The curse is lifted, England wakes again.
Angelic Voices ( above ).
Night passes,
the darkness breaks:
see how the curse
is wafted away!
Down from Heaven,
a beam of light,
Sinks the smile of the Lord.
England, awake!
Rouse to the cry!
Day is at dawn for the land
for God is aweary of wrath.
Merlin.
Hark! how the marshalled choristers of God
Proclaim the dawn that burgeons on the world.
Now falls thy kingdom, Morgan, all awrack,
For Uther dies, and England waits a king.
The rune is written: "Now Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon, on Pendragon's throne."
Whereby God's kingdom grows in England.
Rise,
Morgan le Fay! Pendragon passes. Rise!
Pendragon passes, and the night is done.
Morgan le Fay ( below, invisible ).
Pendragon passes, but the darkness holds,
And England sleeps: her dawn shall never come
The while I rule the Magic Mere. The day
Is not for her until I loose my hand;
Until the sunken sea and all the gods
That dwell therein, shall fail and fall away,
Dissolving as the mist that meets the sun.
Merlin.
The sun, the sun! Look where the flaunting host
Of blazing minions mounts the steep of Heaven.
Morgan, thy reign is ended!
Morgan.
At whose word?
Merlin.
The word of God, and here I give it thee.
What time King Uther lived, His hand was stayed,
While England paid the grievous penalty
Of evil done, and thou wast given leave
To scourge us with the curse of paynim gods.
Pendragon passes and the ban is raised;
Pendragon's seed is lord.
Morgan.
Is lord not yet!
Deep in the Magic Mere I hold the Sword:
Take it, magician, if ye have the hand,
Pendragon wins no worship if ye fail.
Merlin.
While Uther lived, the Sword was in thy hold;
Pendragon passes, and the Sword is won.
Morgan.
Thou liest, Merlin, for the Sword is lost!
Merlin.
Thou liest, Morgan, for within my hand
I hold the proof.
Morgan.
The proof?
Merlin.
Excalibur!
( Merlin is illuminated with a dazzling radiance. Four shafts of light shoot upward, downward, and to either hand, as he draws Excalibur, brandishing it aloft in the light. )
Morgan.
Here to me, all ye dwellers in the mere!
Excalibur is won! Cry treason, cry
Unto the uttermost and deepest depth,
Unto the farthest bounds of all the world,
"Excalibur is won!" Black treason stalks
Stark in the sunken sea: your bootless blades
Rust in their scabbards, hingeless hang the doors
That closed my Castle Terrabil, the walls
I reared to ward Excalibur are cleft
In sunder hopelessly. The Sword returns!
Voices.
Queen Morgan calls! Who reft the sleeping Sword
From out our holding? Treason!
Morgan.
All is lost,
And we ourselves hurled from our high dominion
Unless ye win him back. Gain me the Sword!
All hangs on this, the night is broken else.
( Dark phantoms dash across the light, assailing Merlin , who rests motionless. A tumult of cries and of low thunder. )
Merlin.
Pendragon passes, and Excalibur
Is for Pendragon's seed. Morgan le Fay,
The sun is bursting from the black abyssm;
Give thee good night, the day breaks on the land.
Morgan.
Spirits of darkness from the Magic Mere,
Win me the Sword!
Voices.
Excalibur is lost,
Our hands are helpless: mighty Merlin conquers.
Morgan.
Win me the Sword!
Voices.
Excalibur is lost;
Woe to the people of the Magic Mere!
Woe to thee, Morgan, crownless queen,
Woe!
Woe!
( The spirits vanish downward. Morgan's voice is heard afar off. )
Morgan.
Hold the Sword, Merlin, guard it with thy craft:
The day is breaking, but the day will die:
Night follows close. The rune is written. Hear!
"Pendragon passes. Now Pendragon's seed
Shall slay Pendragon for Pendragon's lust.
A kingdom passes, now a kingdom's king
Shall lose a kingdom to the lord of hell."
Merlin.
Not while Excalibur is in his hand.
Morgan.
Morgan le Fay shall gain Excalibur.
Merlin.
Not while gray Merlin guards Pendragon's seed.
Morgan.
Gray Merlin passes, and the night befalls.
Magician, guard thyself! the Sword returns.
Merlin.
So runs the rune, but God shall gain the day!
Excalibur is won, and England's dawn
Is breaking: cry adown the winds, "All hail,
Arthur Pendragon, King of England, hail!"
Build thou God's city in the wilderness,
Trample the paynim underneath thy feet
And raise the Cross above a thirsty land.
All hail, Pendragon, servant of the Lord!
Angelic Voices ( above. )
Hail, Pendragon,
Lord of the Sword!
Crowned of England
saviour and king.
Come forth, thou servant of God,
for the dawn is white on the world,
and Christ shall arm thee to-day
The Sword is won,
hell is confounded,
back from England
cowers the curse.
The Sword Excalibur comes;
follows fast the Kingdom of God!
Merlin.
So answers Heaven and hell is dumb. The bell
Sounds for the day; go then, Excalibur,
Hold in the heavy rock until the king,
Great England's king, shall gain thee for his own.
So do I send thee, Sword of Avalon,
Down to the waiting world. Pendragon comes!
( He brandishes Excalibur thrice, then hurls it downward: the light vanishes. )
Act I
SCENE I. London. The cloisters of St. Paul's. In the midst of the garth is a great runic cross, in the base of which the Sword is buried to the hilt. Merlin is standing beside it. Without is heard the chanting of the Miserere.
Enter: the funeral procession of Uther Pendragon , the body of the king borne in the midst upon a bier. Before walk many monks, priests, and acolytes. Following comes the Archbishop of Canterbury , attended, and behind him King Nentres, King Uriens, Duke Lucas, Duke Brastias, Sir Launcelot, Sir Breuse, and other Knights and Barons.
Men's Voices.
Benigne fac Domine in bona voluntate tua Sion,
Ut aedificentur muri Jerusalem.
Merlin.
Pendragon passes, now Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon, on Pendragon's throne.
Men's Voices.
Justificeris Domine in sermonibus tuis,
Ut vincas cum judicaris.
( The procession crosses the front of the stage: as the bier comes in the centre it is set down and the Archbishop raises his crosier and speaks. )
Archbishop.
Lords of the realm and gentlemen at arms,
From all the farthest borders of the land
I summoned ye to answer, under pain
Of ban and interdict of Holy Church.
Uther is dead, and 'gainst his heritage
The ravening kings are leagued. In jeopardy
Lies England, kingless, prey to whoso comes.
Pendragon dies, and dies the last of them
That ruled England by the grace of God.
The House is fallen, and there is no heir.
Nor law nor custom meets this woful plight
Wherein we sink: yet needs must that a king
Rule over us, lest England be disrupt
And parcelled out in shameful vassalage.
To-day is Easter: on this blessed morning
Lord Jesu rose, wherefore of His great mercy
Perchance this day He may give certain sign
Who by His will shall reign. The love of God
Passeth our wisdom. For a miracle
Fall on your knees, besiege the King of kings
With lusty prayer.
Sir Launcelot.
Dear God, a miracle!
Omnes.
O Jesu, hear us!
Archbishop.
By thy Mother's love,
Lord Jesu, answer!
Omnes.
For thy Mother's love!
Merlin.
God hears His children, and the word is said.
Archbishop.
Now speak, magician, if thou hast a tongue,
For in thy words is somewhat ominous
Of welfare to Pendragon's kingdom. Speak!
Where is the sign of God?
Merlin.
Beneath the cross.
Gather, ye barons and ye knights at arms,
Gather, ye commons from the farthest fields,
And look upon the mercy of the Lord!
( He mounts the steps of the cross. )
See ye the Sword that grows in living rock,
Thrust to the hilt within the closing stone?
See ye the scripture writ around it? Read!
Read ye the rune, and reading, rise and do.
This very night, ere yet was day conceived,
Whilst grimly darkness gripped the cringing earth,
I heard a Voice that cleft the sombre night,
And thus it spake, and speaking died away.
"Pendragon passes, now Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon, on Pendragon's throne."
And all the night grew white with leaping light
As down the heavenly glory flashed a star,
A streaming fire that thundered to the earth
Riving the rock. Excalibur is come.
Omnes.
Excalibur is come!
Archbishop.
Now unto God
Be laud and honour, that has shown a sign.
Duke Lucas.
Pendragon's seed shall reign? What word is this?
Pendragon's seed is ended. Uther died
Void of all heir, and helpless of his House;
How then shall reign his seed?
Duke Brastias.
How reign his seed
When barren lies his field? Shame shows her head:
No bastard reigns in England!
Merlin.
Peace, ye fools!
A rune is written 'round the rigid hilt,
The which I gain, and straightly give it thee,
Most holy father. Read! and reading, rest.
Archbishop.
"Whoso shall pull this Sword forth of the stone
Is rightwise king, born of all England."
Merlin.
Hear!
Barons and knights and commons; come, essay!
Hale the steel forth, for England lies enwrapped
Around the blade of great Excalibur.
King Nentres.
By right I claim the Sword. Have I to wife
Queen Igraine's daughter? Then to her, Elaine,
And so to me, comes England!
King Uriens.
Traitor king,
Morgan le Fay is mine! From Queen Igraine
I gain the daughter's dowry. Give me place,
For so to me comes England.
Sir Breuse.
Hold your hand!
How runs the rune? Pendragon's seed shall reign,
And not Duke Cornwall's daughter, gotten first
On Igraine ere she lay with Uther. Hold!
Nor look to gain a kingdom with a wife.
I win the Sword that am King Uther's son.
Duke Brastias.
No bastard reigns in England!
Sir Breuse.
In thy teeth,
Thou damnèd duke, I cast thy scornful word!
Bastard or no, I reign, Pendragon's seed:
Heave up thy sword, for Breuse shall send thee hence!
Duke Brastias.
Have at thee, boaster, that would fain be king!
Archbishop.
Now by authority of Holy Church,
I bid ye cease, else underneath the ban
I cast ye, traitors. Who shall win the Sword
Is rightwise King of England, and none else.
Strike back your swords! What! dare ye hesitate?
Then so I damn ye! -
Good: Now hold your peace!
Merlin, guard thou the Sword: my lords, essay!
King Nentres.
England is mine, and thus, -
What craft is here?
The brand is frozen in the iron rock,
Cursèd magician, by what evil spell -
Merlin.
Give place, King Nentres, England is not thine.
Duke Brastias.
But mine, and so I lightly win the crown, -
Hell and hell's angels hold thee!
Duke Lucas.
For my hand.
Excalibur and England!
Merlin.
Are not thine.
Sir Breuse.
Pendragon's seed shall reign. Said so the rune?
Here to me, Sword! What, firmer than the hills?
By God I'll rive the ground up from the rock,
The rock from nether hell, but thou shalt come.
What demons hold thy blade? Unsheathe thyself!
Know'st thou not me? It is Pendragon's seed
That grips thee! Devils rend ye Merlin -
Archbishop.
Peace!
Fall back, Sir Breuse, the Sword is not for thee.
( Enter: unperceived, Morgan le Fay.)
Sir Breuse.
Now now, but after: Merlin, mark me well,
I seize the Sword and England, maugre thy spell.
King Uriens.
Then ask me for them, fair Sir Breuse, for now
I claim them. Morgan, aid me, that I gain
Thy dowry and a kingdom.
Merlin.
Stand thou back,
Morgan le Fay, thy gods are helpless here.
Morgan.
Wait for the proof! King, grasp Excalibur
And cry: "Here to me from the Magic Mere
Gods of the sunken sea! Queen Morgan calls,
Win her Excalibur!"
Merlin.
The charm is void.
Morgan.
Wait for the proof!
Merlin.
The charm is void, for so
I shield the Sword and England from thy spell.
( He makes over Excalibur the sign of the cross. )
King Uriens.
So now thou'dst prop thy magic with the sign
Of thy Redeemer when the magic fails;
As men deny their Lord to win the cast
And failing, fall on Him for final aid.
So, I defy thee, black blasphemer, so,
I seize my kingdom. From the Magic Mere
Here to me, demons of the sunken sea!
Queen Morgan calls! Win her Excalibur,
Yield me a kingdom!
Omnes.
See, the Sword is fast!
Merlin.
Morgan le Fay, thy magic lacks the prop
Of righteousness. God gives to whom He will
Knowledge of laws, dominion of unseen,
Unfathomed powers that yet are His alone.
Fools mutter "Magic!" cross themselves aghast,
Granting to God no wisdom save their own,
The which to Him is lisping of a babe,
To Him who made the world, and fixed the laws
Of its endurance. Of His sovereign will,
From time to time, that men may have the light
Wherewith to guide their footsteps through the dark,
He grants some glimpsing vision of that Truth
That in His Being, unto us who stand
As His ambassadors; but know ye well
That whoso wields this wisdom without God
Falls to the nethermost hell.
Morgan.
Where thou art summoned
A little while, mayhap, thou dost prevail,
But swell not with conceit and orgulite,
For thou shalt play the fool. The Sword returns!
( Tumult and confusion without. Enter: Sir Kay and Sir Ector , followed by many people in great disorder. )
Sir Kay.
Lord Bishop, barons, noble knights, to arms!
King Lot of Orkney and King Carados,
The King of Scotland and a myriad knights
Beat down the gates of London. Like a flood
They surge against the ramparts, cresting high
A breaking wave of death. The people quail
Cowering, kingless, in a kingless land,
With none to lead them. Who is chosen?
Merlin.
None.
Sir Kay.
Christ help us! for King Lot is at the gates
Claiming the kingdom for Queen Margawse.
Choose!
For God's love, choose!
Sir Launcelot.
Stand not upon the form
While dolorous peril menaces the land.
Beat back the tide of treason! Follow Gore,
Or Nentres, Brastias, or any knight
That dares to lead us.
Duke Brastias.
Follow me afield,
The crown may rest with Uther.
King Nentres.
Follow me!
While Merlin keeps the Sword, I gain the crown.
Duke Lucas.
Is England won upon the field to-day?
Stand by me, lords, for I will lead the fight.
Omnes.
Who heads us, Merlin?
Merlin.
He who hails the Sword:
None other.
Sir Launcelot.
Merlin, art thou leagued with them
That shatter England?
Merlin.
No, Sir Launcelot.
The king shall come.
Sir Launcelot.
Must we abide thy jest
And stand here waiting while the city falls?
I hear the kings hale down the grinding gates,
And traitor knights prick through the screaming streets
To bait us in this trap.
Sir Kay.
Black traitors all,
For God's love choose!
Archbishop.
We may not. He has sent
Excalibur to England, Joseph's Sword
Left long in Avalon, lost ages since,
And held unransomed in the Magic Mere
While Uther lived. Whoso shall draw the Sword
Is rightwise king of England, and none else.
Sir Kay.
So England falls, for Lot is king anon!
Merlin.
So England falls not, for the king shall come.
Sir Kay.
To rule a desert waste!
Archbishop.
God give us aid
As He has given sign. Fall on the Sword,
Barons and knights, who hales him forth is king.
( The Knights cast themselves about the cross, striving for the Sword. Enter, Arthur.)
Merlin.
"Pendragon passes, now Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon, on Pendragon's throne."
Arthur.
Lords of the realm, King Lot is on the walls!
Our knights fall from him like the mangled dogs
That roll before a foaming boar at bay.
Sound thou the onset, herald; lords, to arms!
Sir Kay.
They may not answer, for there is no king.
Merlin.
Their eyes are blinded, Arthur, by the hilt
Of some fair Sword that holds within the rock
And comes not forth.
Arthur.
Contend they, sir, for that,
While England falls?
Sir Kay.
Aye, boy, while England falls.
Arthur.
What shame is this? Shall men dispute a sword
Nor use their own to save a kingdom? Fools!
Sir Kay, I pray thee leave, these women folk
Have softened into children, that a sword
Should blind them, baffle them. Sir, give me leave,
I am Sir Ector's squire, I lack a sword.
But give me leave and I shall lightly win
Knighthood, and fight beside thee: give me leave!
Sir Kay.
And blessing, boy.
Merlin.
The hour is on the stroke.
Arthur.
Stand back, ye puling sluggards, is your brawn
Grown fat and futile with your wantonness?
The devil makes men women, now may God
Make men of boys, England is fallen else!
Merlin.
"Pendragon passes, now Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon on Pendragon's throne!"
( The Knights about the cross fall back. )
Arthur.
Good Jesu, help me! Come, reluctant Sword!
( He hales the Sword forth, and brandishes it in air. )
Omnes.
The Sword is won, and by a beardless boy!
King Nentres.
The Sword is won! Elaine, thy dowry falls.
Morgan.
The Sword is won! Magician, guard thy craft.
Duke Brastias.
The Sword is won! What bastard gains the goal?
Arthur.
The Sword is won, and lightly, by this arm.
Why stare ye all astonied, good my lords?
Is it so hard to hale a biting blade
From rock that grips it with but half a hand?
Your arms are women's arms, that like your hearts
Halt quaking! Holy father, cry them on,
The toy is mine and I can heave it well.
Now let these whining children draw their swords,
Full heavy for their futile hands. A king
Baleful, black-hearted, hammers at our gates.
I call a challenge, shall I fight alone?
The Commons.
Hail to the King of England!
Arthur.
Where's the king,
Save Uther's corpse? Nathless a rotting king
Best leads dead warriors.
The Commons.
Hail to England's king!
Excalibur is won! Lead us to war!
Arthur.
Who wins Excalibur?
Merlin.
Look in thy hand.
Arthur.
What Sword is this?
The Commons.
Excalibur!
Arthur.
Ye lie!
Lie in your teeth: magician, name this Sword.
Merlin.
Excalibur.
Archbishop.
Who art thou?
Arthur.
Arthur.
The Commons.
Hail,
Arthur of England, rightwise king and lord!
Arthur.
Call ye me king?
The Commons.
Aye, King of England.
Sir Breuse.
No!
I challenge thee!
King Nentres.
I challenge thee!
King Uriens.
And I!
The Barons.
King Uther's seed shall reign, no lowborn knave
Propped with the magic of a sorcerer.
The Knights.
A squire for England's king? What shame is this?
Duke Brastias.
No bastard reigns in England!
Arthur.
Hold thy cry,
Thou foul-mouthed carrion crow! My blood is clean
And with this Sword I'll prove it. Fair Sir Kay,
Thou art my father: tell him, ere I cleave
His mocking mouth and feed my hungry blade.
The Commons.
Arthur is king: we'll have none other!
Archbishop.
Peace!
Merlin, thou art the warder of the Sword,
Speak, if thou know'st an answer. Is this he
That reigns in England as Pendragon's son?
Merlin.
Sir Kay, give thou the answer.
Sir Kay.
King and liege,
Upon my knees I swear thee fealty.
Sir Ector.
And I, O King of England.
Arthur.
How, to me
Thou kneelest father, and thou, Ector? Speak!
Why yield ye homage to the youngest born?
Sir Kay.
For that thou art Pendragon's son, and lord.
The Commons.
King Uther's son!
The Barons.
The king's son!
Sir Launcelot.
How is this?
King Uther died, and passed, devoid of heir.
Duke Brastias.
No bastard reigns in England!
Merlin.
Cease your clamour,
While from the misty caverns of the night
I raise a vision that shall wash your eyes
Of cloudy sleep. Arthur is rightwise king,
For by his hand Excalibur is drawn
To carve a nation from the wreck of worlds.
Son to King Uther, got on Queen Igraine
Ere yet the Church had blessed the king's great love,
Arthur Pendragon holds Pendragon's throne.
Duke Brastias.
So now I see two bastards in the field,
Arthur Pendragon, Breuse saunce Pité,
Choose, lords and commons, bastards have the day.
The Commons.
Arthur for England!
The Barons.
We'll no baseborn king!
The Commons.
Arthur for England!
The Knights.
Out upon his name!
Arthur.
Have I no word in this? I win the Sword.
Uther Pendragon was my father. Well,
England is mine. Will any meet my stroke?
Here stand I ready.
Sir Breuse.
If my father's lust
Sowed thine untimely seed in others' fields
Ere yet my day was come, his blood is mine.
"Pendragon's seed shall reign." 'Tis mine or thine,
Brother, I need thy life. Hurl up thy blade!
Archbishop.
Once more I charge ye under pain of ban
Strike home your swords! Merlin, is there no choice?
Merlin.
Aye, between son and bastard; Breuse, thy claim
Is null and void, Arthur is Uther's son.
Sir Breuse.
And I as well.
Merlin.
Born out of wedlock. Hear,
Ye men of England. When the king was hot
With fire of love for Igraine, Cornwall's duke
Lay far afield, and Uther had his will.
But ere befell the crowning of his love
The Duke of Cornwall died upon the field
And Uther knew it not. But when Igraine
Grew great with England's hope and gave him birth
Tintagail stood beleaguered of the gods
That Jesu Christ had prisoned in the Mere,
For well they read the rune that gave them word
How on a day should come Pendragon's seed,
The which would lightly cast them deep in hell
And ranson England. By their subtile hands
Was Igraine reft of Arthur, and the child
Hurled downward to the sea. The friendly waves
Softly received him, bore him to my feet
And laid him scathless in my shielding arms;
So then I lightly gave him to Sir Kay
To rear him as his son. Anon, the king
Wedded Igraine, and she was England's queen,
So Arthur stands, Pendragon's lawful son.
Arthur.
So stand I, men of England, Uther's son,
And rightwise king from sea to crawling sea.
Swear me allegiance! While we parley here
Like old wives chaffering scandal, Orkney's king
Leaguers the walls of London. When the waves
Rack the tough timbers of a sinking ship
And hell gapes wide where howling breakers yawn,
Do men contend who shall be master? On!
I cry you, On! Arthur for England, On!
King Nentres.
Better that England falls than Arthur reigns.
King Uriens.
Merlin, thy magic wins no men to-day.
Sir Breuse.
No bastard brother shall command my sword.
King Nentres.
Give us a true king, Bishop, or we fail.
Sir Kay.
Stand by me, Ector! King, our swords are thine.
Certain Knights.
And mine, and mine! King, marshal us for war.
The Commons.
Arthur for England!
A Citizen.
Bishop, give us word,
That we may arm us from these traitor knaves.
The Barons.
Treason!
King Uriens.
The churls lift hands against our lives!
Thou jester king, hale thou thy nobles home.
Arthur.
Shall I fight Lot alone, ye traitor brood?
Sir Kay.
No, for I fight beside thee!
Sir Ector.
Sir, and I!
Sir Launcelot.
And I, King Arthur: for that thou art king
My soul gives answer. But wert thou the last
Of villains with a barred and blotted shield
I'd fight beside thee, for thou art a man
Amongst black traitors.
The Commons.
Hail to Launcelot!
Merlin.
Now do I know that I must work alone
To save this land and give it back to God.
There was a day when wives gave birth to babes
And nurtured them for heroes: not to rats
That waxed to bloated vermin. Fat with spleen,
Yellow with jealousy, ye barter life,
England and honour for your belching pride.
What would ye have?
The Barons.
A proof, foul Merlin, proof!
Arthur.
And ye shall have it, if the Lord will speak
In otherwise than by a thunderbolt
To hurl ye back to hell, whence came ye forth
To do disworship to your chivalry.
( He kneels before King Uther's bier. )
O thou, that gav'st me life, thou king of men,
My father, hear me! From that awful land
When thou art walking with the saints of God
Hear me and save thy kingdom. Speak to these
Thy liegemen; tell them that I am thy son,
Nor knave nor bastard, but great England's king.
Save thou thy people!
( The dead king lifts his hand, removes the crown from his brow, and with it crowns Arthur.)
Omnes.
Look! Christ Jesu! Look!
Archbishop.
To Thee, O Christ, and to Thee, Lord of Hosts,
Be praise forever!
Merlin.
Are ye satisfied,
That hounded God until He gave ye proof?
Duke Lucas.
It is enough. With all my men at arms
I yield thee, king, liege love and loyalty.
Arthur.
My honour take for guerdon. King of Gore,
Dost thou confess me rightwise overlord?
Morgan.
Deny him, king, and thou shalt wear the crown.
King Uriens.
Shall Gore be vassal to a changeling, crowned
By sorcery with England's coronet?
I solemnly deny thee.
Arthur.
Go thy ways;
Anon I'll meet thee in the reeking field,
And on thy body prove thy treason. Speak,
Nentres of Garlot!
King Nentres.
I have spoken, fool!
Now comes the deed. I join with Scotland's king,
With Gore and Carados. The stolen crown
Falls from thy head ere sunset.
Arthur.
Brastias,
Dost thou deny me?
Duke Brastias.
I am sworn to fight
For England, and I stand beside thee, king,
If that thou art. I tell thee to thy face
If, when the fight is won and England free,
I find thee but a crownèd bastard, then
By God, I'll hurl thee headlong from the throne
And ask no priest to shrive me of my sin!
Arthur.
Well spoken, Brastias: give me thy hand,
And if Pendragon's blood flows not to-day
From out my sundered veins, I give thee leave
To snatch the crown I reached no hand to win.
Garlot and Gore, lightly avoid our sight
Until we meet ye, traitors, in the field.
Now, herald, sound the onset. Knights, to arms!
Arthur for England!
( Flourish of trumpets. The Barons and Knights kneel before Arthur , swearing allegiance. )
Sir Breuse.
But not yet for me.
Queen Morgan, art thou helpless in the blaze
Of Merlin's mockery? Hast thou no spell
To blast this folly?
Morgan.
Wait a little, Breuse;
I know no spell to match with marching time
To wash men's minds of madness. Follow me,
Wait patiently. Thou know'st I love thee, knight,
And I do swear the crown shall clinch thy brow
When Arthur rots.
King Nentres.
My lord of Gore,
Why dally we among these daffish dupes?
The road is open for us. Follow, knights!
We fight with Orkney, Arthur fights alone.
( Exeunt King Nentres, King Uriens, Sir Breuse, and certain of the Knights.)
Merlin.
Bright in the blazing zenith flames the sun
Of England's dawn. King, cry the onset!
Arthur.
Come,
Liegemen of England's crown; for England's king,
And so for England, let your impatient swords
Menace the sun with lightnings; let the horns
In brazen clamour hurl the word abroad
That England's king brooks no disloyalty
Of prince or peasant, while his faithful knights
Die, if God wills, but suffer no disdain
To fall upon their lord who is their land.
War waits us; England watches; God has heard.
( Exeunt Arthur, the Barons, Knights, and Commons, singing the war song. The Archbishop and Monks re-enter the cathedral chanting, "Te Deum laudamus." Merlin remains standing on the steps of the cross, regarding Morgan , who remains by Uther's bier, gazing on him with defiance. )
WAR SONG
Sun, see us,
Wind, hear us,
Earth, feel us hurling on.
God, free us,
Who near us
brings foemen whirling on.
Christ, guide us,
saints, arm us,
Lady Mary, lead us now!
None abide us
hurt or harm us:
King and kindred need us now!
Merlin.
Pendragon passes, now Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon, on Pendragon's throne.
A kingdom passes, now a kingdom's king
Shall raise a kingdom for the King of kings.
Curtain.
SCENE II. Carlion. The crown of a low, wooded hill: the royal pavilion in the midst. In front Sir Pelleas , lying wounded, Ettard nursing him. Around are other Knights with Monks dressing their wounds. Sunset: the sound of battle without. Enter at a galop, Sir Tor.
Sir Pelleas.
How goes the fight?
Sir Tor.
As some enormous flood
That thunders down the mountain, rolling on
Inexorable.
Sir Pelleas.
Stay, for God's love, Tor,
And ease my wounds with word of victory.
The king prevails?
Sir Tor.
Thou speakest as a fool!
The boy fights even as St. Michael fought,
And rebel kings fall headlong from his stroke
As fell the devil's angels. Stay me not,
I ride with word for Launcelot.
( Exit )
Sir Pelleas.
Sir Tor!
He goes, and all my wounds burst out afresh.
Ettard, I follow him! Give me my shield!
Ettard.
Nay, sweet, fair knight, bethink thee of thy case,
Thou could'st not lift a sword; see how thine arm
Turns rebel to thine whole, unwounded will.
Abide a little.
Sir Pelleas.
Aye, and house me here
Like any whining churl, the while the fight
Roars loud and lusty, howling in mine ear
To rise and follow. Give me drink! My shield!
Ettard, bring me my shield! If I must die
At least I'll die where steel is biting steel,
Not in a woman's arms.
Ettard.
Thou shalt not die,
For here I hold thee, maugre thy headlong will.
See, dear my lord, thou canst not rive the clasp
Of my two arms, and wouldst thou lead the fight?
Content thyself.
Sir Pelleas.
Out on the scurvy knave
That did me this disworship!
( Enter Duke Lucas, wounded. )
Who is come,
Forspent, and gaping with such grimly wounds?
Sir knight, what word?
Duke Lucas.
The day is well-nigh won,
But for this vile and most felonious wound
I needs must lose the glory of the end.
Certes, the villain that did me this trick
Fell, cleft in halves unto the saddle bow,
But all too late.
Sir Pelleas.
Look thou to him, Ettard,
He falls. Sir monk, come hither: look afield,
Canst thou see ought?
Monk.
Naught, save a whirling storm
Of dust that rolls in dun and sullen clouds
Along the meadows. Think not of the battle
But of thyself: perchance thou art to die.
Art thou assoiled?
Sir Pelleas.
Death lingers not for me,
Do as I bid thee: tell me of the fight.
Monk.
The cloud is broken: towards the sinking sun
A thousand - nay, ten thousand men drive on
Dismayed, disordered.
Sir Pelleas.
Whose the banner? Speak!
Monk.
I mark no banner, but the shields are round.
Sir Pelleas.
St. George, an altar for thee, 'tis the Scots!
What else?
Monk.
The dust is lifted like a fog:
East, north, and south men hurl across the plain,
And on their flanks swords flash as lightning. Ha!
I mark the crest of Garlot.
Sir Pelleas.
Fleeing, monk?
Monk.
Aye, like a champion coursing down the lists,
So fast.
Sir Pelleas.
The king, canst see the king?
Monk.
Not yet.
Hold! by the Mass, the fight is at an end.
A mighty shout comes winging on the wind,
And down the field the dragon-crested knights
Come spurring wonderly.
Sir Pelleas.
God save the king!
Duke Lucas.
What cry is that? Quick, lift me higher, girl!
Who says the fight is won?
Monk.
The king, the king!
The pageant opens, and I see him ride
With whirling sword before the shouting knights;
God save King Arthur!
Sir Pelleas.
Grip me round the waist
And lift me, so, good monk: I see the king!
Omnes.
God save King Arthur!
Hail Pendragon!
Hail!
( Enter: King Arthur, Sir Launcelot, Sir Tor, Sir Ector, Sir Kay, Duke Brastias, and Knights, mounted. )
King Arthur.
So fight the saints for England, and the tide
Of treason that rose darkling on the land
To 'whelm Pendragon's House and heritage,
Is halted, broken, utterly dispersed
In shallow ripples sobbing o'er the fields.
Now soars the Dragon to the shouting sky,
Exalted high, unchallenged, undismayed;
England is free, for God has won the day!
Sir Launcelot.
By thee, King Arthur, for thy royal hand
Struck down the enemies of England's crown
As I thought not to see the like thereof.
Thine was the victory, for since he rode,
The king, thy father, in the latest fight,
And heaved his mighty sword, with palsied arm
Made iron by the grace of England's God,
Such prowess has not been.
Sir Pelleas.
King Arthur, hail!
God save the man that saved a kingdom!
Omnes.
Hail!
God save the king!
King Arthur.
Give me no honour, lords;
What brought I, save the brawn of rugged arms?
If ye would glorify the holy thing
That won the day, look on this awful Sword
That hews untramelled victory, whoe'er
May hap to wield him. Hail Excalibur,
And heap your thanks on Merlin, not on me.
Sir Launcelot.
On thee and Merlin and Excalibur
All England casts the tribute of her praise,
But thou art first for that thou art the king,
And he that climbs to clutch the royal crown
From off thy riven helmet, from this day
Must reckon first on dolorous debate
With every man that backed thee in the field.
Sir Brastias.
And first with me; I want the trick of words,
That am for fighting, not for parliament,
But I confess thee king. My sword is thine;
What Brastias gives he takes not back again.
King Arthur.
As I am king, I pledge Pendragon's name
Thou gainest, Brastias, no cause from me
To ask it ever.
Sir Launcelot.
Come, victorious king.
Avoid thy steed for easing of thy limbs,
The while thou dost refresh thy taxèd strength
With meat and drink: we fight no more to-day.
Rest on thy victory.
King Arthur.
Give me thine hand,
And for a narrow space I'll halt me here
The while my hounds shall harry to their holes
The crownèd wolves of treason. Fair Sir Tor,
Look thou that all the knights and men at arms
Be well disposed. Of thy good grace, Sir Kay,
I pray thee see that all who are on live,
Yet sorely wounded, have such ministry
As fits their case; and thou, Sir Launcelot,
Hold thou by me: I need thy councilment.
( Exeunt all but King Arthur, Sir Launcelot, Duke Lucas, and Monk.)
Duke Lucas.
Death frights me not, now I have seen the sun
Go down upon this wondrous victory.
Lift me, good monk: king, I am sore bested
With searching wounds. I may not see thee fight
Again for England, but if I must die
I die thy vassal.
King Arthur.
'Tis Duke Lucas's voice
That hails me from a mask of sorry wounds!
The sun of victory is in eclipse
If thou art sinking towards a grievous end.
Grip hard upon the hilt of life, my lord,
And thou shalt brandish it against the foe
On many fields ere yet thy day is done.
Duke Lucas.
I fear me, king, my sun is on the rim
Of death's horizon. Let it go: content
Am I to follow, now the field is won.
King Arthur.
That shalt thou not. Good father, guard him well,
And thou shalt be an abbot for thy pains.
Would well my Merlin followed in the field,
For he is skilled in cunning medicine.
Has any seen him?
( Exit Duke Lucas and Monk.)
Sir Launcelot.
Aye, King Arthur, horsed
Upon a frightful steed as black as hell,
That gnashed with foaming teeth and bloody jaws
Against the horses whilst his master fought:
A baleful spectacle.
King Arthur.
Did Merlin fight?
Meseemed his weapons were the fateful stars,
His hauberk fearsome magic.
Sir Launcelot.
Aye, he fought,
And wonderly, for whereso'er he rode
The traitors opened from him in amaze,
Nor could endure the lightning of his eye.
King Arthur.
'Tis very strange: but marvels fall as rain
Each day in England. Tell me, Launcelot,
The while we drink and quench the flame of fight,
Bore I myself as fits Pendragon's son
There in the press of battle?
Sir Launcelot.
Good my lord,
St. Michael in the charge of heavenly hosts
Against the devil fought not in such wise.
King Arthur.
Nay, answer not with any courtier's tongue,
I crave no words of fawning flattery.
Speak as a provèd knight unto a squire
That feutred maiden spear along the lists
And rides victorious. Was is it rightly done?
Pardie! I know not.
Sir Launcelot.
Aye, 'twas bravely done.
And thou hast routed, not alone the foe,
Orkney and Carados, the King of Scots,
The traitor Garlot - God alone can tell
The number of the kings - but more than all
Thou hast o'erthrown the last of them that mocked
Against thy majesty.
King Arthur.
God grant 'tis so,
But flame stamped out oft bursts again anew.
I would the day were ten good years agone
When I did gain the crown.
Sir Launcelot.
Ten years of years
Could fix it no more firmly on thy brow.
Pendragon's blood confirms Pendragon's seed.
King Arthur.
How runs the rune, Sir knight? "Pendragon's seed
Shall slay Pendragon:"
Sir Launcelot.
Nay, "Pendragon's seed
Shall reign, Pendragon, on Pendragon's throne."
King Arthur.
I think me of the other.
Sir Launcelot.
Why, my lord?
King Arthur.
For that the fire of fight within my veins
Is fading, and the dark of coming things
Looms close upon me. Tell me, Launcelot,
Woulds't thou be king?
Sir Launcelot.
Aye, sir, an' thou wert not.
King Arthur.
Take thou the crown!
Sir Launcelot.
What jest is this, King Arthur?
King Arthur.
No jest, good Launcelot, as I do find.
Seven days I've called it mine, and on each day
It waxed a pound in weight. A weary thing,
An irksome, weary thing, a royal crown;
Yet men would sell their souls to feel it cling
Around their brows, and hate it when 'twas won.
( Enter Merlin at back. )
Sir Launcelot.
This sadness likes me not.
King Arthur.
'Tis gone again.
A passing mood begotten of the mist
That blots the future: think no more of it.
My Launcelot, a most untoward thing
Is this that meets me: for a maiden joust
Fierce war with mighty kings, and for the prize
A crown and kingdom.
Merlin.
It is well contrived
To match the marvels that shall follow, king.
Upon the deep foundation thou hast laid
This day, shall rise a fabric such as men
Saw not, nor shall again. Great England's crown
Shall widen in its circuit till it rings
An empire that would blind with sore amaze
High Cæsar thronèd in the crowding walls
Of awful Rome. For such high destiny
Most meet it is the crown come on this wise.
King Arthur.
I give thee greeting, Merlin: knight thou art
And no more wizard, but a man of war,
Therefore, Childe Merlin art thou. Gentle knight,
How like ye warfare? Were the stars unkind
That thou should'st flout them for a naked sword?
Nathless I thank thee, for upon the oath
Of chivalry, I do believe the day
Was won by thee.
Merlin.
Mock me no jest, Sir king,
For years and wisdom cannot curb the hand
That itches for a sword when steel and steel
Are clanging music in the listening ear
No more of that; thou art anointed king
With traitors' blood: the chrism of my lord
Of Canterbury can avail no more.
So now, to horse, and ride for Camelot!
King Arthur.
And let the traitor foxes find their holes,
Nor scourge them for their treason?
Merlin.
Let them be.
Already on their borders press the foe,
And flame and slaughter hotly call them home;
They may not hinder thee. The war is done,
Now statecraft clamours for thee.
King Arthur.
I am fain
To harry them a little - Ha! Sir Tor,
What tidings of the chase?
( Enter Sir Tor.)
Sir Tor.
The sky is clear.
Like fleeting mist before the rising sun,
The foe has melted into little clouds
That, driven by the wind of victory,
Scud aimless, formless, blind with blanching fear.
Shall we pursue?
Merlin.
Bethink thee well, King Arthur.
King Arthur.
Call back the knights, we rest here till the dawn;
To-morrow we will lie at Camelot
And call a Parliament.
( Exit Sir Tor.)
Merlin.
'Tis well resolved.
Thou hast approved thy right to wear the crown,
Upon the field. Prove thou the sceptre thine,
The sword of justice and the golden orb,
As thou shalt prove them in thy Parliament,
And thou art king indeed.
( Enter Sir Kay.)
Sir Kay.
My lord, a vassal
But lately fighting 'gainst thy majesty
Is come, repentant of his evil mood,
To do thee worship.
King Arthur.
We will greet him kindly;
Bring him before us.
Merlin.
King, be on thy guard!
There's more of treason than the bearing arms
Against thee in the field.
King Arthur.
I am the King
Of England, - all of England, - and I hold
No hatred 'gainst a vassal that repents
Of treason, asking pardon.
( Enter King Uriens and Queen Morgan.)
King of Gore,
And thou, our sister, welcome!
Merlin ( aside )
Loathly witch,
I scent thy craft in this! Now Merlin, watch,
For danger climbs the steps of Arthur's throne.
Morgan.
King Arthur, here we yield us to thy grace.
Thou art approvèd king: in vassalage
We humbly kneel and swear liege loyalty.
King Arthur.
Thou art our sister, Morgan, but not king:
So let him speak.
King Uriens.
I do confess the proof
And hail thee King of England.
King Arthur.
On thy knees
Thou shalt swear fealty at Camelot
To-morrow. Seneschal, into thy charge
We give the King of Gore, and Morgan, queen,
And sister unto England.
Merlin.
Guard them shrewdly,
Sir Kay, but look thou to the lady
With double cunning.
Morgan.
So, the sorcerer
Still props the throne! We do confess the king,
But not his master, Merlin.
Merlin.
As thou shalt!
( Enter: Sir Ector and Duke Brastias.)
Sir Ector.
My lord, Sir Ulfius is well returned
From hounding Lot adown the western wind,
And with him bruit of war hard here at hand
By Rience, King of Wales, 'gainst thine ally,
Leodegrance, King of Cameliard.
Sir Launcelot.
How say'st thou, sir?
King Arthur.
Is Rience loose again?
I hate him well, the wolfish King of Wales.
A most felonious, false-hearted knave,
While King Leodegrance held by our House
In hearty friendship. How says Ulfius
Touching the battle, Ector?
Sir Ector.
King Rience
Prevails most wonderly. Leodegrance
Is prisoned in his castle, close beset
By howling hoards of lewd and savage men
That cease not from the siege. The king is lost
If succour comes not swiftly.
Sir Launcelot.
Jesu Christ,
Hold back the hasty sun!
King Arthur.
How say ye, lords?
We are forefoughten, but the peril looms
Close on Leodegrance. Shall we essay
This brave adventure?
Duke Brastias.
Wait until the morrow,
We cannot fight with bodies that cry out
For mercy. March at dawn; Leodegrance
Must hold a little longer.
Sir Launcelot.
Good my lord,
In God's name grant this boon that on my knees
I ask of thee! March for Cameliard
This night, this very hour! Thou knowest not
That all my life is prisoned with the king,
And even now, mayhap, the black Rience
Is bursting through the walls to hale them forth,
Thine ally, and the lady Guenever
That I do love. King Arthur, give no heed
To cautious council, but be moved by me
If thou dost love me.
King Arthur.
Fair Sir Launcelot,
Thy love leaps with my liking. Sound the horns,
And strike the camp as lightly as ye may.
On to Cameliard!
( Trumpet without. Enter many Knights.)
Sir Launcelot.
My life is thine,
King Arthur, ask it of me when ye will.
On to Cameliard!
King Arthur.
My lords, my knights,
My hardy men of England, King Rience,
The which we loath since he doth hate us well
And holds against us, strikes Leodegrance,
Our sworn ally. Around the castle walls
A rabble army all disworshipful
Howls loud for blood and booty. We are knights,
Sworn by our knighthood ever to afford
All aid to them that suffer evil hap.
For high adventure march we forth to-night
Into Cameliard. To-morrow's sun
Shall see us well discharged of our devoir,
And Rience beaten back into his lair.
Let honour stay our hunger, ease our limbs,
Here rest we not. Cry, "Death to King Rience!"
On, for the worship of our chivalry!
( Exeunt, leaving Merlin standing before the pavilion, King Uriens and Queen Morgan at back. The stage is quite dark. )
Merlin ( seating himself beneath the pavilion. ).
All passeth as an ordered pageantry,
And without hinderance the great design
That gathered perfect form within my brain
Takes shape and substance. So I stand with God,
Who did conceive the project of a world
And give it being, in that I may weave
A splendid fabric where the warp and woof
Are little lives that, like a tangled web
Of knotting threads, would break and haul awry
Did I not play the part of destiny.
Morgan.
See where the grim magician sits him down
Upon the throne of his poor puppet king
In guise of majesty. 'Tis well devised;
He is the king!
King Uriens.
And must we bear with this
That hold the throne of right from Queen Igraine,
Nor lift a hand against this trickery?
Morgan.
Thy sword is by thee, strike for England now!
King Uriens.
The king is gone.
Morgan.
The king is in thy reach!
King Uriens.
How mean ye, Merlin?
Morgan.
Hush! he speaks again.
Merlin.
What man is there would crouch beneath a crown
And be the target of a thousand swords,
When he might stand unseen behind the throne
To marshal armies, overthrow estates,
And fashion kingdoms by his sovereign will?
There lies the potency of royalty
Hid in a little word. Prevailing will,
The essence of the Godhead, and the sign
That shows in man the imagery of God.
King Uriens ( aside ).
Shall I not strike him now?
Morgan.
Unless thine arm
Is palsied with thy years. Give me the sword!
King Uriens.
I am no dotard, topling on the brim
Of black eternity.
Morgan.
Then strike thou home!
(Uriens approaches Merlin from the back of the pavilion and lifts his sword to stab him. )
Merlin.
What menace threats me?
( He rises: Uriens strikes him from behind, the sword turning blunted from the stroke. )
Fool! I kill thee not,
For that thou art none other than the tool
Of one that is hell's proxy in the fight
Betwixt us. Morgan, lightly stand thou forth
The while I give thee council.
Morgan.
Mark me, then,
For like a bloodhound nosing down the trail
I follow thee, Sir Merlin, to the end.
Merlin.
With weapon such as this? I would not move
An hand's breath from my course for fear thereof.
Thy wit forsakes thee, Morgan, dost thou think
To cope with Merlin? Marshal in their might
The quaking spirits of the Magic Mere
And hurl them on me, they shall fright me not
Nor let me from my labour. I am he
That God has made His deputy on earth.
I am incarnate will, and I abide
Forever scathless. Thou art futile craft
And this thy tool is blind and senseless force.
Shall either match me that am perfect will
Untrammelled, unconditioned? Get thee gone
And sink thy deep dishonour in the sea,
Nor sally forth to mock me with the jest
Of potent hinderance. I am thy lord,
For I am will and wisdom, and I stand
Unhampered of thine idle enmity
Until my task is ended: until God
Reigns absolute in England, and the day
Of righteousness shall lighten on the land.
My will prevails: content thee with thy doom.
Curtain.
SCENE III. Cameliard. Before the castle of King Leodegrance. Enter: King Rience, mounted, and with him Knights, Men-at-arms, and Bowmen. Before dawn.
King Rience.
Now breaks the day of triumph to our arms!
Too long, my men of Wales, Leodegrance,
Chased like a fox to cover, flouts our might
And holds his haughty castle that uprears
A menace to our kingship. Once again
Assail the dragon's nest, and hale him forth
To die disworshipfully. Sound the horns,
And hurl against the rocky fastness, doomed,
Ere yet the laggard sun lifts on the world,
To fall in ragged splinters round the king
That thinks to halt Rience with stony walls.
This day is mine. Good herald, sound the horns!
( Trumpets. Enter above: King Leodegrance and Knights.)
King Leodegrance.
Hold back thy men, Rience, and give thy tongue
To gentle parley, ere the dreadful shock
Of grimly war distains the breaking day.
Declare thy quarrel, that with savage arms
Thou wagest battle 'gainst my kingdom.
King Rience.
So!
The orgulous monarch turns to mellow speech
When warfare helps him not. Leodegrance,
I fight thee for that I do loathe thy name
All blazonèd with epithets of praise,
For that thou dost revile me for a knave,
For that thou art a vassal to the fool
Uther Pendragon.
King Leodegrance.
Uther lieth dead:
Pendragon dieth never. I am sworn
In loyal friendship to that royal House,
Wherefore I die if God so wills my death,
But never shall forget my knightly oath.
King Rience.
Why then, thou diest, king. Cameliard
I hold in fee before the lifting sun
Hangs in mid-heaven. Archers, bend your bows!
King Leodegrance.
Once more, King Rience, answer my appeal;
What then befalls me if I swing the gates
And yield my castle?
King Rience.
Four flame-branded steeds
To rend thy carcase! This for thee, Sir king,
And for thy squeaking women, each a man,
A stalwart wolf of Wales, to dry their tears
And give them joy before their death to-night.
For me thy scornful daughter, Guenever;
So now, swing wide thy gates!
King Leodegrance.
Thou damnèd cur,
Hell howls to grip thee in its grinning jaws!
An' we must die, we die not by thy hand.
The castle thou dost covet is a tomb
Heaped high with corpses, if ye breach the walls
In black despite of God.
King Rience.
A brave reply,
Thou wintry-pated miscreant. Think well
Before thou holdest longer. Strike a blow
Once more to-day against my majesty
And I will crucify thee on the walls
And shame thy daughter in thy dying eyes!
King Leodegrance.
Bring forth thy legions out of yawning hell
And ring my castle with consuming flame
Until it melts, and pours in blazing streams
Along the screaming meadows. I endure,
And flaunt Pendragon's banner in thy teeth!
King Rience.
See, wolves of Wales, the dragon, drunk with dole,
Crawls fearsomely upon his battlements
Intent to stay my hand. Give me a bow!
By God, I'll nail the dotard to his shield
With this my mighty arm. Give me a bow!
( Trumpets. The ramparts above fill with bowmen. Rience's force bring scaling ladders and mount and fight on the walls. )
King Leodegrance.
God fights with us against unrighteous Wales.
Hurl on them, knights, the day is lost not yet.
King Rience.
Heave up the catapult and breach the walls!
Bring in the ram and split the guarding gates!
One little hour, my wolves, and ye shall lie
With glutted maws, beneath the drowsy shade
Of blooming orchards.
( Enter: King Nentres of Garlot, mounted. )
King Nentres.
Hail, great King Rience!
Nentres of Garlot am I, and I come
To fight with thee if thou wilt league with me
Against the wittol that has filched the crown
Of England, backed by scurvy sorcery.
King Rience.
Marshal your shields along the leaping ram
For cover of the men. So, now essay!
Garlot, I need thee not, but for the hate
I bear Pendragon I will stand with thee.
Back, men, and to't again! How came ye here,
Nentres of Garlot?
King Nentres.
From a grim debate
With traitor knights that back the bastard king.
King Rience.
That did thee hurt? Gramercy for thine aid!
Ha, well sped! Sirrah, to the catapult,
And bid the captain load with blazing brands;
Once more against the gates!
King Nentres.
Nay, King Rience,
The rebels fled along the hiding night
Distraught with dole.
King Rience.
Crave thou no booty, king;
This castle is for me and for my men;
Ye gain no part thereof.
King Nentres.
Nor ask the same.
For guerdon give me aid to overthrow
Pendragon.
King Rience.
Not for guerdon, but for hate.
Thou winnest worship not of me to-day
That standest prating while we toil amain.
Get thee within the fight!
( Enter: A Welch Knight.)
How now, thou fool?
What sears thy face with fear?
A Knight.
My lord, my lord!
The forest turns to grim and armèd knights
Fierce, dragon-crested, raging on our flank
With savage fury!
King Rience.
Damn thee, traitor king!
Is this thy work?
King Nentres.
I swear I knew it not!
God's wounds, it is King Arthur! We are done:
The heavenly host 'gainst him may not prevail.
Save thou thyself, King Rience!
( Exit. )
King Rience.
Turn, my knights!
Give o'er the siege until we stay the fool
That hinders us when our enhungered fangs
Are at the quarry's throat. Come on, my wolves,
And make a mock of England!
( Exeunt, King Rience and the Welsh Knights. Enter, above: King Leodegrance.)
King Leodegrance.
Jesu Christ,
Thy hand is stretched to save! A miracle!
My men, a miracle! Who does God will?
Mine eyes are lightless and I scarce can see.
Tell me, Sir knight, who by the grace of Christ
Has turned the tide of battle?
A Knight.
All is hid
Within a rolling cloud. A myriad men
As they were like a plague of summer gnats
Fall on Rience.
King Leodegrance.
Canst thou not mark their crest?
A Knight.
By all the saints, 'tis England aids us, king!
The dragon flashes through the seething storm,
Pendragon comes!
Omnes.
God save Pendragon's name,
All hail, great England, hail! Pendragon comes!
( Enter: English and Welsh Knights fighting. They pass across the stage. )
King Leodegrance.
Down to the port and swing the labouring gates!
On, for the worship of Cameliard,
And smite the wolves of Wales in open field!
God wins the day, Cameliard is free.
( Exit: from above, King Leodegrance and the Knights. The gates open. Enter: From the castle, many men, who exit shouting, - )
Omnes.
Leodegrance, Pendragon, and set on!
( Enter, mounted: King Arthur and King Rience, fighting. )
King Arthur.
This day wipes out the shame on Uther's name,
Rience, thou diest!
King Rience.
Damn thee, villain!
( Enter, above: Guenever, Ysed, and other women. )
Guenever.
See!
Rience is mastered by a doughty knight.
God save thee, sir, strike down the mocking knave!
King Arthur.
My worship to ye, gentle ladies. King,
Yield thee a recreant!
King Rience.
Not if thou wert God!
Guard thyself!
Guenever.
Sweet Ysed, it is the king
That reigns in Uther's stead, for see, the crown
Clings 'round the Dragon.
Ysed.
Oh, the king is slain!
He falls along his steed!
( Enter: Sir Launcelot. He rushes against Rience. Arthur reels in the saddle. )
Guenever.
God sends him succour.
What favour flutters round the bruisèd helm
Of him that presses hotly on Rience?
My favour! Launcelot, 'tis Launcelot!
(Rience falls .)
Ysed.
He falls, King Rience falls!
King Arthur.
Nay, Launcelot,
Thou dost unkindly by me. I was fain
To win this worship.
Sir Launcelot.
Art thou wounded, king?
King Arthur.
Whole, hardy, and unscathed. 'Twas but a blow
That blotted reason for a little space.
The day is won!
Guenever.
God save thee, gentle king,
Thou hast delivered us! Sir Launcelot,
Look hitherward, dost know me, Launcelot?
Sir Launcelot.
Aye, lady, as I know the favour twined
Around my helm, and I do love thee well.
Guenever.
Hold thou thy station! Follow me, Ysed,
While with the king my father we do come
To lay our woship before England's feet.
( Exeunt. )
King Arthur.
Why now I win a fight and thou a maid!
Give me thy guerdon and I yield thee mine.
How say'st thou, Launcelot?
Sir Launcelot.
My noble king,
Were all the world within thy proffered hand
I'd cast it from me, resting well content
With that I have.
( Enter: from the castle King Leodegrance, Guenever, Ysed, and many Knights and Ladies. Enter from the field: Sir Kay, Sir Ector, Sir Tor, Duke Brastias, and many Knights. King Arthur dismounts. )
Omnes.
God save great England's king!
King Leodegrance.
Where is the servant of the living God
Come down from Heaven to save Cameliard?
Let me behold him.
King Arthur.
King Leodegrance,
Arthur Pendragon is Pendragon still,
And holds by them King Uther loved withal;
Give me thy hand.
King Leodegrance.
Upon my palsied knees
I thank thee, King of England.
King Arthur.
God forfend
That thou shouldst kneel, that art so reverend
And white with years.
King Leodegrance.
My daughter Guenever,
Do homage unto England!
King Arthur.
Lady fair,
My homage unto thee in place thereof,
For, by mine oath of knighthood, fair thou art
And matched by none in all the crowded world;
Wherefore take thou my worship. Launcelot,
I pray thee, come! Sir knight, the crown is thine
Upon condition.
Sir Launcelot.
Sir, I crave it not,
But only this.
( He kneels, kissing Guenever's hand. )
King Arthur.
Why now the sun is gone,
And victory is but a hollow name.
My brother of Cameliard, we two
Will sit forlorn about the patient board
And talk full sadly of the emptiness
Of martial triumph. Who would win a fight
And find the guerdon gained the fame thereof,
While others reap the booty? Come, my lords,
We will within, and while we ease us well,
Drink deep the health of King Leodegrance
And of the flower of women, Guenever.
Curtain.
ACT II
SCENE I. - Camelot. The shore of the Magic Mere, seen close at hand through tall, slim trees. In the midst a silken pavilion open on all sides. Dame Columbe, Guenever, Ysed, and Ettard; Sir Launcelot, Sir Pelleas, Sir Tor, and Sir Kay, lying on the grass.
Columbe.
Sweet damozel, sing me that song again:
Full dolorous it is and wet with tears,
Yet glad withal, as one should weep with joy
Of life that is too sweet with brimming bliss.
Guenever.
Nay, Lady Columbe, pray you let it pass,
A true thing said rings false if said again.
Sang I not true?
Columbe.
Aye, Guenever, in faith
Ye sang me true, and even as my heart
Calls gently when the night is very still.
How think ye, lords?
Sir Kay.
Dame Columbe, prythee say
If still my beard be grizzled, for the maid
Sang me so softly of the sweet, dead days,
When all my blood leaped like a noble stag
Through golden, gleaming forests, that meseemed
Twoscore of years had vanished with her song;
I was a squire again.
Ettard.
As thou art now,
Sir Kay, and shall be ever, for the years
Are not for thee; the silver in thy beard
Turns traitor to the fire within thy blood.
Sir Kay.
Out on the knave that gives me evil name!
Sir beard, I charge thee with high treason -
Columbe.
Hold!
Wreak not thy vengeance on a silly rogue
That deals in futile lies that none believes.
Thy heart, my Kay, gives answer to the lie:
Sir Tor, liked thou the song?
Sir Tor.
As sinners love
The hand that shrives them, makes them clean for God.
Fair lady, while ye sang I saw the wind
Grow bright with angels leaning near to learn
The why men seem to love this paltry world
More than the courts of heaven.
Columbe.
Well said, Sir Tor.
Speak, Pelleas, what saw ye in the song?
Sir Pelleas.
I saw the milky blossoms of the May,
Ripe roses bursting into honeyed bloom,
And every flower that burgeons on the bough
When summer winds are warm with summer love;
And all these melted, as the music moved,
Into one face -
Columbe.
That thou didst call?
Sir Pelleas.
Ettard.
Columbe.
Fair sir, thou speakest as a loyal knight.
Now Launcelot, hast thou no word of praise?
Launcelot.
No word that I may say.
Columbe.
False, craven knight,
Dost yield thee recreant?
Sir Launcelot.
With all my heart.
Columbe.
Then kneel and sue for mercy.
Sir Launcelot.
Guenever,
Unhorsed and vanquished, wounded unto death
Kneeling I crave thy mercy. Give me life,
Nor send me back into the dolorous dark
Whence came I forth to find thee. Let me live
Thy loyal knight, and by Sir Jesu's wounds
I swear to yield true service unto thee,
And stainless worship.
Guenever.
Fair Sir Launcelot,
I pray thee, of thy knighthood, do not kneel.
How should I give thee life, that art so strong
And lusty? Wit ye well, most gentle knight,
Thy life lies not within my holding hands.
Sir Launcelot.
Of thy good grace, I pray thee, reach them forth
Close clasped before my sight. O Guenever,
Within the tender cup of these white hands
That I do worship as the Holy Grail,
Thou holdest that which is too poor a thing
For me to cast beneath thy slender feet,
Yet is it all I have, for 'tis my heart.
Guenever.
And will it break if I unclose my hands
And let it fall?
Sir Launcelot.
Aye, lady, it will break.
Guenever.
I will essay!
Sir Launcelot.
I pray thee!
Guenever.
See, 'tis fallen.
Sir Launcelot.
And it is shattered in such grievous wise
It may not beat again.
Guenever.
Poor, broken heart!
But if I lift it from the couching grass
And nurse and warm it in my heart of hearts, -
Sir Launcelot.
Then like the phoenix from the fawning flame
It will arise, transfigured with new life.
Guenever.
Now wit ye well, I know not what to do.
See how it lies like some soft, wounded bird
Among the primrose buds that nestle close.
Certes, I fain would warm it in my breast,
But I do fear me it would change, mayhap,
Into a serpent.
Sir Launcelot.
Never, by my sword,
And by my faith I owe my knighthood!
( Enter, on the banks of the lake: Morgan le Fay)
Columbe.
See!
Where through the quaking trees Queen Morgan goes,
Ill hap betides us if she lifts her eyes
And looks upon us.
Ysed.
Jesu, mercy! Why?
I do beseech thee, why?
Columbe.
Thou art not wise,
Ysed, in all the lore of Arthur's court,
Else wouldst thou ask not such a foolish thing.
Ysed.
Yet tell me, lady: I am newly come
From out Cameliard.
Columbe.
Queen is she of Gore,
And wife to Uriens, but men say well
One kingdom likes her not, and she has won
By crafty magic and unchristian lore
Dominion over all the paynim gods
That fled from England when Christ Jesu came.
And now beneath the waters of the Mere
In golden caverns, wonderly beseen,
She holds her court.
Sir Pelleas.
Look, how she lifts her head
And gazes on us with her serpent eyes.
Guenever.
Methinks she brings a chill, ungentle wind
From out the hollows of the Magic Mere,
For I am cold, and shrink with creeping dread.
Sir Launcelot.
Look not upon her, she may harm thee not
Whilst I stand ready.
Columbe.
She is gone again,
But I do fear the malice of her eye.
Sir Kay.
One only man in Arthur's kingdom curbs
Her wanton witchcraft, for old Merlin holds
Her hard in leash, in that the craft of God,
Whereby he works, is potent to command
Queen Morgan's damnèd magic.
Sir Tor.
If the king
Were not an headstrong boy that knows not fear,
He would give ear to Merlin, and the witch
Should burn right merrily.
Sir Kay.
&