Of Sir Lancelot, who abode in Benwick.
| In the South from sleep to swift fury |
|
| a storm was stirred, striding northward |
|
| over leagues of water loud with thunder |
|
| and roaring rain it rushed onward. |
|
| Their hoary heads hills and mountains |
5 |
| tossed in tumult on the towering seas. |
|
| On Benwick’s beaches breakers pounding |
|
| ground gigantic grumbling boulders |
|
| with ogre anger. The air was salt |
|
| with spume and spindrift splashed to vapour. |
10 |
| | |
| There Lancelot over leagues of sea |
|
| in heaving welter from a high window |
|
| looked and wondered alone musing. |
|
| Dark slowly fell. Deep his anguish. |
|
| He his lord betrayed to love yielding, |
15 |
| and love forsaking lord regained not; |
|
| faith was refused him who had faith broken, |
|
| by leagues of sea from love sundered. |
|
| | |
| Sir Lancelot, Lord of Benwick |
|
| of old was the noblest knight of Arthur, |
20 |
| among sons of kings kingly seeming, |
|
| deemed most daring, in deeds of arms |
|
| all surpassing, eagerhearted; |
|
| among folk whose beauty as a flower blossomed |
|
| in face the fairest, formed in manhood |
25 |
| strong and gracious, steel well-tempered. |
|
| White his hue was; his hair raven, |
|
| dark and splendid; dark his eyes were. |
|
| Gold was Gawain, gold as sunlight, |
|
| but grey his eyes were gleaming keenly; |
30 |
| his mood sterner. By men holden |
|
| almost equal envy he knew not, |
|
| peer and peerless praising justly, |
|
| but to his lord alone his love giving; |
|
| no man nor woman in his mind holding |
35 |
| dearer than Arthur. Daily watchful |
|
| the Queen he doubted, ere the cold shadow |
|
| on her great glory grey had fallen. |
|
| | |
| To Lancelot her love gave she, |
|
| in his great glory gladness finding. |
40 |
| To his lady only was his love given; |
|
| no man nor woman in his mind held he |
|
| than Guinever dearer: glory only, |
|
| knighthood’s honour, near his lady |
|
| in his heart holding. High his purpose; |
45 |
| he long was loyal to his lord Arthur, |
|
| among the Round Table’s royal order |
|
| prince and peerless, proudly serving |
|
| Queen and lady. But cold silver |
|
| or glowing gold greedy-hearted |
50 |
| in her fingers taken fairer thought she, |
|
| more lovely deeming what she alone treasured |
|
| darkly hoarded. Dear she loved him |
|
| with love unyielding, lady ruthless, |
|
| fair as fay-woman and fell-minded |
55 |
| in the world walking for the woe of men. |
|
| Fate sent her forth. Fair she deemed him |
|
| beyond gold and silver to her grasp lying. |
|
| Silver and golden, as the sun at morning |
|
| her smile dazzled, and her sudden weeping |
60 |
| with tears softened, tender poison, |
|
| steel well-tempered. Strong oaths they broke. |
|
| | |
| Mordred in secret mirthless watched them |
|
| betwixt hate and envy, hope and torment. |
|
| Thus was bred the evil, and the black shadow |
65 |
| o’er the courts of Arthur as a cloud growing |
|
| dimmed the daylight darkling slowly. |
|
| In evil hour was Agravain |
|
| the dour-handed to death smitten – |
|
| by the door fell he – dear to Gawain. |
70 |
| Swift swords were drawn by sworn brethren |
|
| and the Round Table rent asunder |
|
| in the Queen’s quarrel. Cold rang the blades. |
|
| The Queen was taken. With cruel justice |
|
| fair as fay-woman they to fire doomed her, |
75 |
| to death they condemned her. But death waited. |
|
| There Lancelot as lightning came |
|
| amid riding thunder ruthless flaming |
|
| in sudden assault sweeping heedless |
|
| he friends of old felled and trampled, |
80 |
| as trees by tempest torn uprooted. |
|
| Gaheris and Gareth Gawain’s brethren |
|
| by the fire fell they as fate willed it. |
|
| From the fire he snatched her; far he bore her; |
|
| fear fell on men, none would follow after; |
85 |
| for Ban’s kindred in their battle closed him. |
|
| | |
| Then rage left him, and his wrath sickened, |
|
| his mood faltered. He mourned too late |
|
| in ruth for the rending of the Round Table. |
|
| His pride he repented, his prowess cursing |
90 |
| that friends had felled, faith had broken. |
|
| For the love longing of his lord Arthur |
|
| he would heal yet honour with his heart’s anguish, |
|
| and the queen restore, by the king’s mercy |
|
| her estate restablish. Strange she deemed him |
95 |
| by a sudden sickness from his self altered. |
|
| From war she shrank not, might her will conquer, |
|
| life both and love with delight keeping |
|
| to wield as she wished while the world lasted; |
|
| but little liked her lonely exile, |
100 |
| or for love to lose her life’s splendour. |
|
| In sorrow they parted. With searing words |
|
| his wound she probed his will searching. |
|
| Grief bewrayed her and greed thwarted; |
|
| the shining sun was sudden shaded |
105 |
| in storm of darkness. Strange he deemed her |
|
| from her self altered. By the sea stood he |
|
| as a graven stone grey and hopeless. |
|
| In pain they parted. Pardon found she |
|
| by her king’s mercy, and men’s counsel, |
110 |
| lest worse befall, war unholy |
|
| among Christian kings, while the crows feasted. |
|
| In the courts of Camelot she was queen again |
|
| great and glorious. Grace with Arthur |
|
| he sought and found not. They his sword refused. |
115 |
| On that knee no more, knight in fealty |
|
| might he hilt handle, nor his head there lay, |
|
| not Lancelot, love forsaking, |
|
| pardon asking, with pride humbled. |
|
| Loveforsaken, from the land banished, |
120 |
| from the Round Table’s royal order |
|
| and his siege glorious where he sat aforetime |
|
| he went sadly. The salt water |
|
| lay grey behind him. |
|
| Grief knew Arthur |
|
| in his heart’s secret, and his house him seemed |
125 |
| in mirth minished, marred in gladness, |
|
| his noblest knight in his need losing. |
|
| Not alone to his land over loud waters |
|
| went Lancelot. Lords of his kindred |
|
| were many and mighty. At their masts floated |
130 |
| the banners of Blamore and of Bors the strong, |
|
| of Lionel, Lavain, and loyal Ector, |
|
| Ban’s younger son. They to Benwick sailed |
|
| Britain forsaking. In battle no more |
|
| to Arthur’s aid their arms bore they, |
135 |
| but in the towers of Ban tall and dauntless |
|
| watchful dwelt they, war refusing, |
|
| Lancelot their lord with love guarding |
|
| in his days of darkness. Deep his anguish. |
|
| He lord betrayed to love yielding, |
140 |
| and love forsaking lord regained not, |
|
| by leagues of sea from love sundered. |
|
| | |
| From western havens word was rumoured |
|
| of Arthur arming against his own kingdom, |
|
| how a mighty navy manned with vengeance |
145 |
| he swift assembled that the sudden fury |
|
| of striding storm stayed and hindered. |
|
| Of the Lord of Logres, and the leagued treason |
|
| that his throne threatened, thought he darkly: |
|
| now they need would know of knights faithful |
150 |
| to uphold on high the holy crown, |
|
| the west still to wield by the waves’ margin, |
|
| walls defending against the world’s ruin; |
|
| now they most would miss the mighty swords |
|
| of Ban’s kindred and their banners gleaming; |
155 |
| now Lancelot his lord’s battle |
|
| should fill with fire as a flame shining. |
|
| | |
| Then half he hoped, and half wished not, |
|
| to receive summons, swift commandment, |
|
| to king the allegiance loyal recalling |
160 |
| of Lancelot to his lord Arthur. |
|
| Of Guinever again grieving thought he: |
|
| there was woe in Britain, war was kindled; |
|
| were her faith renewed firm and steadfast, |
|
| then she stood in danger. Dear he loved her. |
165 |
| Though in wrath she left him, no ruth showing, |
|
| no pity feeling, proud and scornful, |
|
| dear he loved her. When danger threatened, |
|
| if she sent him summons, swift and gladly |
|
| against tide and tempest trumpet sounding, |
170 |
| he would sail overseas, sword unsheathing |
|
| in land forlorn at the last battle |
|
| by his lady bidden, though his lord shunned him. |
|
| | |
| But there came neither from king summons |
|
| nor word from lady. Only wind journeyed |
175 |
| over wide waters wild and heedless. |
|
| Now Gawain’s glory, golden riding |
|
| as the westering sun that the world kindles |
|
| ere he red sinketh by the rim of ocean, |
|
| before Arthur blazed, while the East darkened. |
180 |
| Guinever hiding in the grey shadow |
|
| watched and waited, while the world faltered; |
|
| grimhearted grown as gladness waned |
|
| danger weighed she in her dark counsel, |
|
| her hope in havoc, in her heart thinking |
185 |
| men’s fate to mould to her mind’s purpose. |
|
| And Lancelot over leagues of sea |
|
| looked and pondered alone musing |
|
| doubtful-hearted. Dark had fallen. |
|
| No horn he blew, no host gathered; |
190 |
| he wavered and went not. Wind was roaring |
|
| the towers trembled tempest-shaken. |
|
| | |
| Dawn came dimly. On the dun beaches |
|
| the foam glimmered faint and ghostly; |
|
| the tide was turning, tempest waning. |
195 |
| Light leapt upward from the long shadow, |
|
| and walking on the water waves kindled, |
|
| as glass glittering green and silver. |
|
| In sombre sleep by the sill drooping |
|
| lay Lancelot alone dreaming; |
200 |
| his head was bowed by the high window. |
|
| His eyes opened upon early day: |
|
| the wind still walked in the wide heaven |
|
| lofty faring, but on lowly earth |
|
| peace had fallen. Pools reflected |
205 |
| the slanting sun silver gleaming; |
|
| washed with water the world shimmered; |
|
| bird sang to bird blithe at morning. |
|
| | |
| His heart arose, as were heavy burden |
|
| lightly lifted. Alone standing |
210 |
| with the flame of morn in his face burning |
|
| the surge he felt of song forgotten |
|
| in his heart moving as a harp-music. |
|
| There Lancelot, low and softly |
|
| to himself singing, the sun greeted, |
215 |
| life from darkness lifted shining |
|
| in the dome of heaven by death exalted. |
|
| Ever times would change and tides alter, |
|
| and o’er hills of morning hope come striding |
|
| to awake the weary, while the world lasted. |
220 |
| | |
| The hour he knew not, that never after |
|
| it would return in time, tempest bringing, |
|
| to war calling with the wind’s trumpet. |
|
| The tides of chance had turned backward, |
|
| their flood was passed flowing swiftly. |
225 |
| Death was before him, and his day setting |
|
| beyond the tides of time to return never |
|
| among waking men, while the world lasted. |
|