THIRD SCENE

THIRD SCENE

Astolat. A room with a low seat by a window at the back, as in Scene I.Sir BernardandTorrestand watchingElaine,who sleeps by the window. They talk in low tones.

Torre

See how she is wasted. If you lift her hand, it is as light as a leaf, and she shakes with the beating of her heart. He has cast a spell on her, bewitched her.

Sir Bernard

I would I had that balm, whatever country bears it, that should refresh my child.

Torre

Twice has she started from her sleep crying: “It is he! It is he!”

Sir Bernard

Alas, that her mother is dead. What should an old man do against love?

Torre

Love? It is madness.

Sir Bernard

Love is madness.

Torre

It is not nature.

Sir Bernard

Nature makes this blossom red in the young heart, and cares not whether it be sweet or bitter.

Torre

She is a child.

Sir Bernard

An hour has made her older than the world. I would that Sir Launcelot had never seen her, or that seeing her he had loved her.

Torre(indignant)

Father!

Sir Bernard

I would he had loved her.

Torre

How can you say it? A man fouled with sin. If God strike him not for this, I will say there is no God.

Sir Bernard

Who can tell men’s hearts? Sir Launcelot, I doubt, will bring me to the grave. And yet he was a noble knight.

Torre

A villain.

Sir Bernard

He has sinned, it may be, yet we knew him and found him noble.

Torre

I know what he has done—the traitor.

Sir Bernard

Anger will not move love. Let us rather pray to God that He may change her heart and bring her through pain to peace.

Torre

My heart is too hot. I will go to the Court. I will challenge Sir Launcelot to the death. I will fling my glove in his face and call him what he is.

Sir Bernard

Softly. She is moving.

Elaine(suddenly)

Hark.

Torre

What is it?

Elaine

It is a rider.

Torre

I heard nothing.

Elaine

He is coming. He is coming. I can hear his step on the stair. Launcelot!

Torre

I hear nothing but the blackbird in the sycamore. (Elainefalls back.) See, sister Elaine, it is May. The thorn-boughs are white. Shall we go a-Maying in the woods? Just as we used?

Elaine

Let me die now. Since Sir Launcelot will not come to me, I must go to him.

Sir Bernard

Child, my child, put away the thoughts of earth.

Elaine

Dear father, I am an earthly woman, and love an earthly man. Is it so great an offence to love? I hope God may pardon me, since I have borne such pains. But if He will not pardon, I cannot help my love.

Sir Bernard

I beseech you, Elaine, think not on Sir Launcelot any more.

Elaine

I was called “The Fair Maid of Astolat ...”; but that has helped me nothing.... Is Torre here?

Torre

I am here, sister.

Elaine

I have something to ask of you, Torre.

Torre

Ask anything, sister, dear sister.

Elaine

Write me a letter, Torre.

Torre

A letter?

Elaine

Get paper and pen. (Torregets paper and pen.) I will tell you the words. Write!

Torre(suspicious)

Is it to him?

Elaine

Whom else?

Torre

Sister, I cannot.

Elaine

You do not love me, Torre.

Torre

I would give you my life, but do not ask me this.

Elaine

It is the last thing I shall ask.

Sir Bernard

Do as she wishes, son.

Torre(after an effort)

Tell me the words.

Elaine

“Most noble Launcelot ... I was your lover, though you would not love me. (Torreforces himself to write.) You would not love me, and therefore I can endure no longer. I was called the Fair Maid of Astolat, and yet I was not loved. So I make my lament to all fair ladies and to the Queen Guenevere. SirLauncelot, since you would not come to me, now come I to you. Bury this my body that is dead for love of you....”

Torre

Elaine, dear sister, do not speak so—you shall not die.

Elaine

It is not finished, Torre. Write.

Torre

No, no.

Elaine

There is so little time. Write. “This is the last thing that I ask of you that would not love me. And, Sir Launcelot, as you are a knight peerless, pray for my soul.” Is it written?

Torre

It is written.

Elaine

All?

Torre

All.

Elaine

Prop my head a little ... Father! Where are you, father?

Sir Bernard

I am here, child.

Elaine

The letter! While I am still warm, put it in my hand. Bind it there, father, bind it fast.

Sir Bernard

It shall be done.

Elaine

And when I am cold, clothe me in the fairest dress I have. Put me on the barge.

Sir Bernard

On the barge?

Elaine

Let old Simon, dumb Simon, take me, and steer downstream to Thames. So I shall come to him.

Sir Bernard

It shall be done. You know I never said “Nay” to your desire, little daughter. Perhaps it was not wisdom.

Elaine

Is the day nearly done?

Sir Bernard

Yes, child, the sun is sinking behind the great trees.

Elaine

The flowers are falling....

Torre

Elaine!

Sir Bernard

She does not hear us. She does not know us any longer.

Torre

What is she saying?

Elaine

The rushes are gliding, the rushes are gliding. The water, the water! The flowers are falling upon me.

Torre

Oh, father, will she really die? She, so young.

Sir Bernard

She will die because she is so young. We that are old, we endure.


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