SECOND SCENE
A room in the Palace at London. At the back a colonnade, through which is seen a rose hedge. TheKingandSir Bedivere:Arthurpacing up and down.
Arthur
No news yet, Bedivere?
Bedivere
Our messengers return with silent faces.
It is as if the earth had swallowed him.
Arthur
Launcelot lost!... This victory, Bedivere,
Was not as the old days. Something baulked us, something
Like an invisible impediment—
I felt it round me—something that unnerved
What should have been a hammer-stroke. Almost,
But for my suddenness, it was defeat.
Bedivere
I had not hazarded to broach a thought
Sprung from surmises only; but my King
Has spoken; therefore, may I speak?
Arthur
Hide nothing.
Bedivere
If rumours breathed about the camp be true,
There was some treason.
Arthur
I felt it in the air,
Like fog on a sour wind. Tell me more.
Bedivere
Sir,
I cannot speak but on a dark report,
And hardly now dare tell.
Arthur
Hide nothing. Speak.
Bedivere
The name that men have whispered in the night
Is the name of Mordred.
Arthur
My own sister’s son!
In my own house, treason!
Bedivere
It may be nothing,
But one I sent on a night-errand saw
A man disguised and muffled stealing up
From where the rebels lay. A camp-fire chanced
To blaze up on a sudden out of smoke.
The face was Mordred’s.
Arthur
Mordred, false to me!
Treachery in my own house, Bedivere.
Bedivere
Mordred is ever fair and frank in speech,
Looks you in the eyes and smiles. And in the battle,
Though he’s no hungry fighter, he fought well;
And, after, cheered our victory. And yet
There is a hushing upon Mordred’s name
As if it curtained secrets. Sir, I fear him;
I cannot tell why.
Arthur
There is power in him.
Bedivere
He keeps a kind of hidden confidence,
That is a magnet to unstable men.
Arthur
I never wronged him. Treason? For what cause?
Envy’s a cause. Ambition is a cause.
(Guenevereenters.)
The marshals of the jousts
That are to celebrate our victory
Attend the King in Council.
Arthur
Say I come.
[ExitBedivere.
(Absorbed in his own thoughts,Arthurdoes not notice theQueen.)
(Absorbed in his own thoughts,Arthurdoes not notice theQueen.)
I grow old, I begin to doubt and fear.
Rather a thousand enemies that shout
Their hate, than one that smiles behind me——
Guenevere(softly)
Arthur!
Arthur
And Launcelot gone from me! But why? I grope
Into the silence, and find nothing.
Guenevere(more loudly)
Arthur!
Arthur(turning)
My Queen!
Guenevere
You have bid me no good-morrow yet.
Arthur
Good-morrow, Guenevere.
Guenevere(after a pause)
I think they wait you.
Arthur
In time. What ails my Queen?
Guenevere
Nothing at all.
I am but an idle corner of your kingdom;
You are called to graver matters.
Arthur
Guenevere,
If that this robe of care that now is on me
Seem to absent my heart, take it not ill,
You know where my heart lives. Perplexities
Even now beset me.
(Murmurs without.)
Guenevere
Hark!
Someone cried “Launcelot”! If it were he!
(Louder murmurs.)
They do cry “Launcelot”!
Arthur
Can it be?
Guenevere
It is!
Arthur
The world is changed if I have Launcelot.
Come we to meet him.
Guenevere(afraid of showing her joy)
If it be ill news?
Arthur
What is it ails you, Guenevere? You hear
The joy cry in those voices. Come.
Guenevere
Go you.
Arthur
He comes, my friend, my Launcelot! It is true!
Launcelotenters and falls on his knee beforeArthur.Lavainefollows at a distance.
Launcelot(kneeling)
My King!
Arthur
My friend! Rise, look me in the face,
That I may be assured it is my friend
Beside me once again.
Launcelot(rising)
To the last hour.
And last drop of my blood.
Arthur
See, Guenevere,
Our hope is havened. Our Launcelot returns.
Whence come you? Tell me.
Launcelot
Ah, what matters whence,
Since I am come to serve my only King?
Arthur
Pale, too! I think some suffering’s written here.
Launcelot
I am but new-recovered from a wound.
Arthur
In battle?
Launcelot
Nothing glorious, my King.
I rode in the forest on a winter’s day,
Thinking my thoughts. A misty day it was
With a pale sun, and red leaves underfoot.
I let my horse pace on, lost in a muse;
But, as it chanced, a hunter in those woods
Was shooting at the deer, and aimed so ill
His arrow found its quarry in my side.
Guenevere
Ah!
Launcelot
I fell. I knew no more. But for good hap,
Some clown had tracked me to those muddy leaves,
Me that had shaped a splendid field to die on—
And found me—sorry venison——
Arthur
Where was this?
Launcelot
In the thick woods over Astolat.
Arthur
You fled me,
Launcelot; and scarcely were you gone, when came
Ill-tidings, and I had sore need of you.
You fled me: for what cause?
Launcelot
I fled not you, my King, I fled not you—
Ask me no more.
Arthur
Let be then;
Keep secret what you will. You are come back:
I’ll probe no further. Is this wound well healed?
Launcelot
There was a maid found me in that same forest,
A maid well skilled in healing, and the daughter
Of the old lord of Astolat. Elaine
She is called: she won me back to life, and I
Have brought with me her brother: he would serve
His King, and he is worthy.
Will it please you to receive him?
Arthur
Surely one
Who comes with Launcelot, and so commended,
Shall have his full of welcome. Bring him to us;
For many of my knights, alas! are fallen,
And youth amends our loss.
(Launcelotbrings forwardLavaine,who kneels.)
(Launcelotbrings forwardLavaine,who kneels.)
Launcelot
Lavaine, your King.
Arthur
Lavaine, be of our court and fellowship.
And if you would be patterned, here is one
To follow: have him for your heart’s ensample
In loyalty, in love, in all that’s honour.
[Lavainebows and retires.
True stock. I thank you.
Launcelot, we celebrate a joust to-morrow
In honour of this victory we have won;
And you must ride in it: for we were mourning
That it should lack the star of all my knights.
The Marshals wait me. But my Queen, no word?
Welcome him, Guenevere. Give me your hand.
(TakesGuenevere’shand in his.)
Launcelot, it was you that long ago
Saved my Queen for me, when proud Orkney’s King
Had taken her, trapped and captive, to his tower.
You brought her back to me: you saved her then.
Have you forgotten?
Launcelot
I remember it.
Guenevere
What need to call that old day back to us?
Arthur
Circumstance is a quicksand. If the day
Fall on me ever when my Launcelot stands
Not on my side——
Launcelot
Never shall that day dawn!
My King, I say again those words I said
When first I vowed my fealty. By that sword
Which made me knight, I swear me to be true.
I will devote my body to your cause,
I will not fail you by my hand or heart
While breath is in me; and if I fail, be this
My adjuration and high oath fulfilled
In curse and condemnation on my soul.
Arthur
So anchor faith in one another’s breast.
(TakesLauncelot’shands.)
Guenevere, to these hands, these loyal hands,
That never in my battle failed me yet,
See, I commend you still. So, God be with you.
(Arthurgoes out. A pause.Launcelotfights against the returning passion which he thought he had conquered.)
(Arthurgoes out. A pause.Launcelotfights against the returning passion which he thought he had conquered.)
Guenevere
Do I grow old
And negligible? Ah, so long away
And never a word, never a single word!
I think that Launcelot is so long away
He forgets Guenevere.
Launcelot
If he remembered
An hour when he forgot her——
Guenevere
You are changed;
Pale in the cheek, cold in the heart; or is it
The young eyes of a maid, and her soft hands
Touching you? Who is this fair maid?
Launcelot
My Queen,
You heard me. Thank her, if you find it thanks
That I am here to serve you.
Guenevere
You are changed.
Something, I know not what, has wrought in you.
You are still absent from me. I hear your voice,
But it is like the dream-voice that was all
I had, these days of desolation. Tell me,
Am I, too, altered?
Launcelot
You are beautiful
As when I first beheld you, Guenevere;
More beautiful.
Guenevere
And you, you too, have suffered.
You have been wounded, and I was not there.
Ill chances happen, when you go from me.
Why did you go from me? And there was none
To love me.
Launcelot
Guenevere! The King——
Guenevere
The King!
He gives me to your hands; defends me so,
With circumspection, like a palisade
From far away; not with a strong right arm
About my body and a sword in hand.
I am but a custom and an effigy
Robed for his realm’s observances; and he
Remembers only that I wear a crown.
He is as far from me as the night stars.
I cannot touch him, cannot wound him.
Launcelot
Queen,
I love him. Speak not so.
Guenevere
I am alone,
And there is none to love me.
Launcelot
Here am I,
With my sword, with my blood, every last drop
Of blood that’s in my body, and it is yours.
Guenevere
And yet you left me—left me to Mordred’s mercy.
I am afraid of Mordred, Launcelot.
He has barbed your very absence; whispers that you
Fled from a rumour grown too dangerous
Because you dared not fight against the truth—
Ah, now you put your hand upon your sword—
Yes, even this. He has been diligent,
Has Agravaine, his brother, at his side.
And Colegrevance has joined them, with his friends
Patrice and Mador; and these go about
Shrugging suspicion at me, breathing hints
Foul as a fog about my name.
Launcelot
Vile traitors!
Mordred plays deep then, and makes power about him.
I fear that he is falser than you dream.
The rumour runs that treachery was at work
Conniving with these rebels in the North.
My life upon the hazard, it was he.
The Queen is but a pawn in Mordred’s game
That plays—who knows?—for kinship. Guenevere,
This poison that he brews and breathes abroad
Is but to start dissension round the King
And split the realm in two. But that my Queen
Should suffer torture for his use! The traitor!
If this impalpable fog could take a shape,
A body—there before me—a throat to strangle,
A breast to strike at and to kill!
Guenevere
Ah, now
I have a shield and a sword—what care I now
For the world’s evil tongues? You are come back,
And spring is in the sky. Is it not sweet
To taste and feel? The blue sky, the warm air,
Trembling among the young leaves. Now I feel
As when we went a-Maying in the woods
Together and alone. Pluck me a flower.
There at the window one peeps in.
(Launcelotbrings her a rose. She caresses his hand.)
(Launcelotbrings her a rose. She caresses his hand.)
So sad?
So sad still? Come into the golden sun.
Look, every small shoot thrills up to the light.
Smell the sweet rose upon its thorny briar.
Launcelot
Sweet as old hours remembered.
Guenevere(very softly)
Sweet as those
To come.
Launcelot(madly embracing her)
Ah, Guenevere, to suffer so.
I am yours, yours, only yours—(abruptly breaking away)—O God, have pity!
Guenevere
Why should we not take what there is of joy,
So little as there is, so little?
Launcelot
Guenevere, I have sworn. There’s burning fire
Between us.
(Pushes her from him.)
Guenevere
Where is your joy gone?
In what strange countries have you been from me?
This—this is not the Launcelot I knew.
Launcelot
That Launcelot must die. Think of him slain,
As in my anguish I have fought to slay him!
Where have I been?
I have been down in the darkness, near great Death.
I have had dreams upon my fever-bed,
Trances that touched the mortal sense of Time
To nothing; and Eternity looked in
To the inmost of my soul,
There seemed no lifting of a hand but had
Its shadow vast in heaven——
Guenevere
We are sinners all.
Put these black dreams behind you——
Launcelot
And no deed
But, like a wave that writes upon the sand
Ebbed from its naked witness, I remembered
What in the fault and soilure of our nature
I have wrought amiss. Guenevere, I am afraid
To see my very self, as God sees it.
Guenevere
That is God’s business. He has made us flesh.
When we are spirits, and in the world of spirits,
It may be then that we shall ache no more,
Nor hunger for a voice, a touch, a kiss;
But while this wine of earth is in my veins,
I hunger. Had I sought for happiness,
Should I have chosen love? But it was Love
Chose me, and all my soul is dyed in yours,
I cannot be a separate self——
Launcelot
Nor I.
Guenevere, when this body is in the grave,
My very dust will turn and yearn to you.
As the seed springs and shoots up through the earth,
So shall I come to you.
Guenevere
But now, but now,
Have you no joy of me?
Launcelot(as if no word were stranger)
Joy?
Guenevere
Do you keep
Your passion for the dust and for the grave?
Oh, you grow weary, say the truth at last,
For a young hand has touched you.
Launcelot
Guenevere!
Guenevere
Why did you leave me?
Launcelot
I was afraid.
Guenevere
The truth.
Launcelot
I thought to pluck you from my heart: and if
Sharp stone or cutting steel could do it, I’d
Have spared no agony. But stone nor steel
Can root what’s part of every breath I breathe.
Though I should stamp on it, it flowers again
And looks like innocence. I fled from love
That was too strong for me.
Guenevere
And fled to her.
I see you changed, and she has wrought the change.
Insulter, mocking me with sick pretence
And virtuous aversions. Love! You love!
The burning name is ashes in your mouth.
You are weary, you are weary, you are weary!
You’ll none of me, and I’ll have none of you,
I’ll choose another for my sword and shield
Not you—that are but words.
[She rushes out in great anger.
Launcelot
Didst thou make woman, God,
As thou hast made fire, earthquake, and sea-storm,
To raise a beauty of terror and overthrow
Great realms and reason’s self? Comes she again,
The flame is on the wind and I am straw.
I’m in the net. Oh for an enemy
To hurl at! Dogs, would they betray their King,
Shatter that dearest jewel of his life,
This realm; make me their poisoned instrument,
And in the crash drag down into the dirt,
O infamy!—my Queen?
Get to your work, Mordred; prime your crew;
Hatch your plot! Still I have my word to say.
If no way else avails I’ll take me hence
To my own country, and you shall stretch your hands
To grasp at nothing. Well,
Whatever comes, I have a sword that’s clean.