Chapter I: Part 1

ARTHUR

A TRAGEDY

ARTHUR
A TRAGEDY

BY
LAURENCE BINYON

BOSTON
SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1923
BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)

Printed in the United States of America

THE MURRAY PRINTING COMPANY
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

BINDING BY
THE BOSTON BOOKBINDING COMPANY
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

TO

SIR JOHN AND LADY MARTIN HARVEY

_With what names should I inscribe this play but with yours? Yet what right have I to dedicate to you what is already so much your own? Memory goes back to that June day, now long ago, when first I undertook to write for you a play out of Malory’s pages on a theme long pondered by you both. And many days come back to me, in London or by the sunny Channel, when time was forgotten in ardent work and interchange of ideas; in thinking out and talking over crucial situations; in rejecting and recasting; in the search for essential structure. How much the play owes to you, both in framework and in detail, none knows so well as I. Give me leave, therefore, to write these words in grateful acknowledgment of that initial trust, of much fruitful suggestion and inspiriting counsel, and of all I have learnt from you of the playwright’s patient craft._

LAURENCE BINYON.

CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

KING ARTHUR.
SIR LAUNCELOT.
SIR GAWAINE}
SIR GAHERIS} _brothers_.
SIR GARETH}
SIR BEDIVERE.
SIR LUCAN.
SIR BERNARD OF ASTOLAT.
LAVAINE}
TORRE} _his sons_.
SIR MORDRED.
SIR AGRAVAINE}
SIR COLEGREVANCE} _of Mordred’s party_.
SIR MADOR}
SIR PATRICE}
SIR BORS}
SIR KAY} _friends of Launcelot_.
DUMB SIMON, _servant of Sir Bernard_.
A BISHOP.
A MAN-AT-ARMS.
A MESSENGER.
A GUARD.
QUEEN GUENEVERE.
ELAINE.
LYNNED, _a nun_.
QUEEN’S LADY.
FIRST NOVICE.
SECOND NOVICE.
THE DAMSEL OF PEACE.

_A banner-bearer, priests, esquires, men-at-arms, soldiers, ladies of the Court, etc._

ARTHUR

A TRAGEDY

FIRST SCENE

SIR BERNARD’S _castle at Astolat. A room with a window at the back._ SIR BERNARD _alone, seated; he is old and grey-bearded_.

LAVAINE _enters in a hurry of excitement_.

LAVAINE

Father, the King’s at London gates!

SIR BERNARD

Returned?

LAVAINE

Victorious. He has overthrown and scattered
Those rebels in the North.

SIR BERNARD

Praise God for that!
How heard you this, Lavaine?

LAVAINE

From a King’s herald
That rode through Astolat. I spoke with him.
But, father, there’s new faction now, he says,
Brewing in the West. He is below with Torre.

SIR BERNARD

A herald of the King! What does he here?

LAVAINE

The King sends seeking for Sir Launcelot.
Three months ago he vanished, this man said;
Vanished, and not a word of why or whither.
But now the King’s returned, he’ll search the land
Into its farthest corners for his friend.... (_pause_)
Father, is it not strange Sir Launcelot vanished
Just ere the King had so great need of him?

SIR BERNARD

Very strange.

(_A pause._)

LAVAINE

Father, have you ever thought
Perhaps our guest, this knight my sister found
Pierced by an arrow among the forest leaves,
Who will not tell his name, might be none other
Than Launcelot himself?

SIR BERNARD

What starts your thought upon so wild a fancy?

LAVAINE

It is three months ago, the herald says,
Sir Launcelot disappeared. Three months ago
This knight was wounded and brought hither. Then,
Another thing--but now I took him news
Of the King’s victory; he was greatly stirred;
But when I spoke of this new head of trouble
Reared in the West, he started up and cried,
“I must be gone: the King has need of me!”

SIR BERNARD

Sir Launcelot? It can hardly be, Lavaine.
But he has borne him like a true, brave knight,
And though he has kept his name unknown to us
I’ll wager it is noble----

LAVAINE

And a name
Not less renowned than noble, I am sure.
Father, King Arthur needs good men-at-arms,
Needs every sword that’s loyal. If our guest
Goes to the King now, let me ride with him
To London; let me serve in the King’s wars.

SIR BERNARD

Your sword must win a wide renown, my son,
Ere he has need of you.

LAVAINE

I’ll win renown;
I’ll hew it from the world, as Launcelot did.

SIR BERNARD

Patience, my son! If any serves the King
From this house, it shall be my eldest son
First, and your brother bides with me----

LAVAINE

Oh, Torre!
A stay-at-home born! He’ll not leave his dogs.
He’s for the country, and abhors the Court.

TORRE _bursts in_.

TORRE

I have found him. Blind that I must have been
Not to have guessed before!

LAVAINE

Found whom, Torre?

TORRE (_at the window_).

Look!
Look! in the garden, walking with Elaine.
God wither him!

SIR BERNARD

Our guest? What mean you, boy?

TORRE

Evermore by our sister’s side, and she
Takes his corruption to her innocence
Like syllables of Scripture. Would to heaven----

SIR BERNARD

Cease raving, Torre. Our guest----

TORRE

Who hides his name----
What name? Why hidden? I have found him out.

LAVAINE

Who is it?

TORRE

Launcelot!

LAVAINE

Did I not say it, father?

TORRE

You knew?

LAVAINE

The thought leapt to my mind but now.

SIR BERNARD

Sir Launcelot?

TORRE

Launcelot, the Queen’s paramour.

SIR BERNARD

Shame, Torre! Shame! The King’s friend.

LAVAINE

The best knight
That wears a sword upon this earth.

TORRE

A traitor!

LAVAINE

He serves the Queen, and the Queen chooses him
To be her peerless champion in the lists;
Therefore the vile think evil.

TORRE

You are a boy;
Talk like a boy, think like a boy.

SIR BERNARD

You know
This is Sir Launcelot? He has told it to you?
Many a knight will hide his name for cause
Of some adventure, or some secret vow.

TORRE

Is it not three months since this guest of ours
Was found in the forest with an arrow through him----
Found by Elaine? Would God that hunter’s arrow
Had split his heart in two!

SIR BERNARD

This rage is madness.

TORRE

It’s he. The herald told me of a scar
Upon Sir Launcelot’s forehead. You have seen it.
Look at Elaine, pacing beside him. Watch
How her cheek changes, how she listens----

LAVAINE

Well,
He is not so graceless not to bid good-bye
To her that’s been his hostess and his nurse.
What harm in that?

TORRE

What harm? To lose her heart
And make a pastime for the filcher of it!
Queen, country maid--all’s practice to his lures.

SIR BERNARD

You anger me: so rank in your suspicions.
You read him backward, as the witches do
The holy writ. Whether Launcelot or no,
This is a true man.

TORRE

Father, he is false.

LAVAINE

You slander one that’s better than yourself.

TORRE

He goes. I’ll to the herald now, and I’ll
Proclaim him found.

LAVAINE

And when he goes, I go.
I’ll follow such a man to the world’s end.

TORRE

Lavaine, you shall not.

LAVAINE

And I say, I will.

TORRE

He is the lover of Queen Guenevere.

LAUNCELOT _enters quietly_.

TORRE

None in the Court but knows it, save the King.

SIR BERNARD

Now shame upon you, Torre. Our guest is here.

TORRE

Let me speak, father.

SIR BERNARD

Will you shame our house
And me too? Peace.

TORRE

I must speak out my heart,
Guest or no guest. Sir, will it please you to ask
This guest of ours why he has hid a name
Men know, whether for good or ill----

SIR BERNARD

This house
Shall not forget its ancient courtesies
While I am master. These are sorry manners:
I never taught you such. In his own time
Our noble guest shall tell us what he will
Or, if he choose, be nameless. Now, no more.

LAVAINE (_eagerly_)

Is it Sir Launcelot?

LAUNCELOT

I am Launcelot. Sir,
Pardon me, if for causes of my own
I let my name sleep in the dark awhile.

SIR BERNARD

We should have guessed it. Though we dwell retired
In Astolat, doubt not those deeds of fame
Which you have done for Britain and our King
And made a glory in the land--doubt not
We have them all by heart.

LAVAINE

Drank them like wine.

SIR BERNARD

Our children’s children will be telling them
By the fire. The famed Sir Launcelot! and this,
This is our guest--Sir Launcelot! Good news.

TORRE

Good news, that he has thieved your daughter’s heart!
But here he stays no moment more. I’ll fetch
King Arthur’s herald and proclaim him.

LAUNCELOT

Spare
Your pains, sir. I have spoken with that herald
And ride with him at once; I had come now
For my farewell.

TORRE

By heaven, and not too soon.

SIR BERNARD

Torre!

LAUNCELOT

Let him speak.

SIR BERNARD

Nay, Sir----

TORRE

Have you not eyes?
This paragon of Courts, smiled on of Queens,
Deigns for his rustic leisure to make sport
Of our simplicity. Elaine has given
Her whole heart to him, and he’ll toss her now
To oblivion.

SIR BERNARD

Torre, you have dishonoured me----

LAVAINE

Shame, Torre!

SIR BERNARD

Dishonoured me and all my house.

TORRE

I am rough: but truth is rough; and the bur sticks.

LAUNCELOT

Sir Bernard,
I owe your daughter all the breath I breathe.
She found me at the gasp of death; she brought me
Of her sweet pity hither, healed my wound,
And more; for when black clouds were on my mind
She let the morning shine full into it;
I felt her like the sky, the morning dew.
If--if there be some fondness, some young spring
Of fondness in her heart, Time soon amends
Such wounds. She is a child. If this be gone
More deep than tenderness and pity’s tears
I have means to cure it. Let me speak with her.

TORRE

He shall not, father.

SIR BERNARD

This to me! Now leave us,
Or ask a pardon that is ill deserved.

ELAINE _enters_

SIR BERNARD

Sir Launcelot----

(ELAINE, _hearing the name, gives a little cry of wonder_.)

Elaine! Speak with her, then.
You have my trust. My sons, come.

TORRE

You are blind.
We shall taste bitterness ere this be done.

[SIR BERNARD _goes out with his sons._

ELAINE

Sir Launcelot! Sir Launcelot of the Lake?
Was it the famed Sir Launcelot that I found
Like a dead man so pale on the dead leaves?
Sir Launcelot! I have won Sir Launcelot back
To life, to glory! Now I have a name
To call you by; the name I used to hear
When it seemed distant as the dazzling sun;
Why did you hide your name?

(LAUNCELOT _is silent_.)

Something is changed.
What is it? Tell me.

LAUNCELOT

The King has been in peril;
I should have been with him.

ELAINE

And not with me!

LAUNCELOT

Forgive me, my fair nurse. If I have breath
To speak at all, I owe it to you. For you
Have made of me a new man, and I thank you
With all my heart that now I can return
To serve my King. Where is my shield?

ELAINE (_bringing the shield from a corner of the room_)

So soon?
And I must lose the shield? Look, I have made
A silken case broidered with its device
And bordered with fair flowers, which day by day
I broidered while you lay so sick and speechless.
Each morning I have burnished it.

LAUNCELOT

Like me,
It wears its scars.

ELAINE

Glorious scars! I seem
To feel the rushing stroke, when you upheld it
There! Dreadful stroke! Good shield! What fight was that?

LAUNCELOT

It was that battle on the Solway shore,
When all the sands were blood, and we were pressed
So heavily by the wild men of the isles
That in the press the King came near his death.
This shielded Arthur then.

ELAINE

And you, you saved him.

LAUNCELOT

So kingly a King, who would not die for him?
He has made this isle of Britain such a realm
As famous Alexander might have throned
Or Cæsar bled for:
Beat back the Saxon, soldered into one
The princedoms that were all at envious broil
With one another; made his name a trumpet,
Sounding across the seas even to Rome.
The world knows that; but I know more and dearer.

ELAINE

How came this other scar?

LAUNCELOT

Ah, that was done
By my own friend, Sir Gawaine. He mistook me
For the false Torquil, who had trapped his brothers.
But, when he knew, he flung his sword away
And caught me to his heart; a headlong man
In wrath or love.

ELAINE

I pray he love you always.
And this deep gash?

LAUNCELOT

By the black winter waves
Under Tintagel towers, that blow was dealt.

ELAINE

Wonderful shield, that has endured such blows
And borne your mortal wounds for you, and been
Where I would fain have been! I feel as if
Those dreadful murderous thrusts were in my body.
How had I gloried to be this, that saved you!
Leave me the shield that has your story on it
Till I have all its battles in my heart.

LAUNCELOT

How should a knight do battle without his shield?

ELAINE

I must resign it then. Take your good shield,
But I will keep its case. Look! I have stitched
Upon it with my needle every scar
That gashed its brightness. And now you will forsake me?

LAUNCELOT

Have you no boon to ask me, ere I go?
I owe you all. Ask what you will.

ELAINE

A boon?
And you will grant me anything I ask?

LAUNCELOT

If it be in my power, and in my honour.

ELAINE

I have heard that a knight wears his lady’s favour
When he goes into battle. Wear you mine?

LAUNCELOT

I never did that yet for any maid,
For any woman. Ask some other boon,
Not this.

ELAINE

But this is all I have to ask.

LAUNCELOT

Think, and then choose again.

ELAINE

You promised me.
Is my poor favour so contemptible?
I have it here.

LAUNCELOT

What is it?

ELAINE

A red sleeve
Sewn with pearls.

LAUNCELOT

If I wear this for your sake,
Since you have won me from my wound, Elaine,
You did more than you knew. I had fled the world.
Because I had in my tormented heart
Something it was too weak to endure against.
But now you have made me strong. I fear no more.

ELAINE

Never was fear, never was aught but honour
Within the great heart of Sir Launcelot.
And you will wear this? I will bind it on.

LAUNCELOT

I never did so much for any woman;
But I will wear it.

ELAINE

I have bound it on.
And now you are my knight! I see it far,
My sleeve, my red sleeve, far among the spears,
Among the helmets: none dare follow it.
I know my knight shall triumph over all,
Over the world.

LAUNCELOT

Elaine, you cannot tell
How like a fountain that pure trust you have
Cleanses me through. God keep me true to it.
And now, farewell.

ELAINE

But you will come again?

LAUNCELOT

My child, I will not.

ELAINE

Oh, my lord, have mercy
Without you I shall die.

LAUNCELOT

Elaine!

ELAINE

Have mercy.
I cannot live, but if you love me.

LAUNCELOT

Ah!

ELAINE

Take me for wife, or no wife if you will.
But if you do not love me, I must die.

LAUNCELOT

Elaine,
Deep in the heart of me, humbly and purely,
I thank you for your love, for your sweet love;
Sweet as a flower it is to my sore spirit.
But I am one who, could I give such love
As should be yours, the love that blesses both
In the meeting lips of innocence, the love
That’s honour, faith, truth--must be changed to what
I am not. Did you know----

ELAINE

I only know
That if you will not love me, I must die.

LAUNCELOT

Let the months pass, and you shall smile at this.
Life’s yet for you in the young leaf, Elaine,
You’ll love some other man, some better man.
And whosoever it be, I give you both
A dowry of my treasure and my lands
To you and to your heirs, and I will be
Your own knight till I die.

ELAINE

None of all this,
None of all this I want; only your love.
Give me your love, or my good days are done.

LAUNCELOT

You know not what you ask, nor whom you ask.
I have a sin heavy upon my soul.

ELAINE

What is that to me, who love you?

LAUNCELOT

It were better
You thought of me all the evil that’s in men.
Hate me!

ELAINE

I cannot. If I would, I cannot.

LAUNCELOT

Made I such pain when I was tasting only
The sweet of the world? Now I have set my will
On the hard path, I suffer and make suffer
All that I touch.

ELAINE

Let me but suffer for you!
Let me but follow where you go, my lord;
However rough the roads, I’ll travel them;
Though my feet bleed, that shall be sweet to me.

LAUNCELOT

Shall nothing but the truth content you then?
My heart is given--lost!

ELAINE

Now you have told me.

(_She sinks half fainting._)

LAUNCELOT

Lavaine, Sir Bernard, enter!

SIR BERNARD, TORRE, and LAVAINE _re-enter_.

TORRE

Devil! She knows,
And it will kill her.

SIR BERNARD

Child! Elaine! Look up.

LAUNCELOT

Sir Bernard, I have hurt her but to heal.
Pardon me for this sorrow I have made.

TORRE

Did I not say that we should rue this man?
She has seen to his black heart, and it will kill her.

SIR BERNARD

Peace, Torre! (_To Launcelot_) I doubt not you have used all kindness.
We’ll pray that Time amend this in his fashion.
Sir Launcelot, God be with you.

LAUNCELOT

And with you
Would heaven that I could have requited her.

LAVAINE

I must go, father, with Sir Launcelot.
_She_ understands well how it is with me.
Father, your blessing (_kneels_).

SIR BERNARD

Have your will, my son.
Seeing what has befallen, maybe it is best.
Go, and be worthy of the house that bred you.

LAUNCELOT

Come then, Lavaine. I do but rankle here.

LAVAINE

Sister, farewell.

LAUNCELOT

Peace come to you, Elaine.
Kind host, again farewell. In the white fire
Of her young heart be grief consumed away.

[_Exeunt_ LAUNCELOT _and_ LAVAINE.

SIR BERNARD

Brave, sweet; look up!

TORRE

Oh, father, she will die.

SECOND SCENE

_A room in the Palace at London. At the back a colonnade, through which is seen a rose hedge. The_ KING _and_ SIR BEDIVERE: ARTHUR _pacing 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.

(GUENEVERE _enters_.)

The marshals of the jousts
That are to celebrate our victory
Attend the King in Council.

ARTHUR

Say I come.

[_Exit_ BEDIVERE.

(_Absorbed in his own thoughts_, ARTHUR _does not notice
the_ QUEEN.)

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!

LAUNCELOT _enters and falls on his knee before_ ARTHUR. LAVAINE _follows 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.

(LAUNCELOT _brings forward_ LAVAINE, _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.

[LAVAINE _bows 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.

(_Takes_ GUENEVERE’S _hand 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.

(_Takes_ LAUNCELOT’S _hands_.)

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.

(ARTHUR _goes out. A pause._ LAUNCELOT _fights 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.

(LAUNCELOT _brings 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.

THIRD SCENE

_Astolat. A room with a low seat by a window at the back, as in Scene I._

SIR BERNARD _and_ TORRE _stand watching_ ELAINE, _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. (ELAINE _falls 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. (TORRE _gets 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. (TORRE _forces 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. Sir Launcelot, 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.

FOURTH SCENE

_Westminster. A vast circular banqueting hall with steps to the river in front. The hall is hidden at first with heavy curtains so that only the stairs are seen._ LAVAINE _by the river steps, leaning pensive on the balustrade_.

_Enter_ GARETH _and_ GAHERIS _arm in arm_.

GARETH

Who’s yonder?

GAHERIS

Our new courtier, young Lavaine.

GARETH

Stolen apart to admire his blushing looks
In the dark water.

LAVAINE (_turning_)

Gaheris! Ah, and Gareth!
Are you for the banquet?

GARETH

Come, Narcissus, come;
And you shall find a mirror more attractive
In ladies’ eyes.

LAVAINE

My thoughts strayed up the river to my home.
I wondered when the ripple that I watched
Went by our cowslip meadows. Months it seems
Since I was there.

GAHERIS

Soon they will be acclaiming
Your feats and praises in the joust, Lavaine.

LAVAINE

I did but follow where Sir Launcelot led.

GARETH

A good road that.

GAHERIS

How furiously he fought!

MORDRED _enters through curtains. He pauses a moment; then goes off at side._

GARETH

There’s one he toppled down.

LAVAINE

What prince is that?

GAHERIS

Mordred.

GARETH

No friend to Launcelot, nor to us.

LAVAINE

Then none to me.

GARETH

Hush! He is dangerous.

GAHERIS

There are black bruises under those fine silks,
I’ll swear. How hard Sir Launcelot struck!

GARETH

The Queen
Should have been there to see him.

GAHERIS

It is strange:
He wore a lady’s favour, a red sleeve.

GARETH

And never in his life wore such a badge.

GAHERIS

None will dare ask his secret.

LAVAINE

The red sleeve?
It is my sister’s. She prevailed on him
To wear it for her sake.

GAHERIS

Your sister’s? Ah!

(_The brothers exchange looks._ MORDRED _reappears with_
AGRAVAINE.)

GARETH

Mordred again! And Agravaine with him.

GAHERIS (_to_ LAVAINE)

His brother.

GARETH

And both dangerous.

(_Music sounds within._)

GAHERIS

Let’s be quit.

GARETH

Hark! There’s the music.

(_The young men bow ceremoniously as they pass in to_
MORDRED _and_ AGRAVAINE, _who come down to the steps and
begin talking hurriedly_.)
AGRAVAINE

What do you want of me?

MORDRED

A private word
Before the banquet. I have news to-night.
These headstrong rebels chafing in the West
Are grown impatient. If we act not quickly
They’ll doubt my power. I have promised them too much.

AGRAVAINE

Good. Then we strike and kill this Launcelot.

MORDRED

Fool,
To glut your appetite, you’d lose the world.

AGRAVAINE

What is the scheme, then, that shall better it?

MORDRED

I stake my first throw on this feast to-night.
The Queen is vext and in her stormy mood,
For that she feigned a sickness in excuse
To absent her from the jousts. Now when she’s tinder
To any chance fire--words can strike a spark;
Watch me for that--her secret may be out
Before she know it.

AGRAVAINE

You are too cunning, Mordred.

MORDRED

The King will not believe
Without stark proof. But he shall have it. Listen.
I have a fellow, silent as the snow,
Who watches; he is soft on Launcelot’s steps,
And Launcelot’s a moth that cannot choose
But flit to the candle. There’s a secret way
To the Queen’s chamber, cunningly contrived;
Since Launcelot went, I have found it. Soon or late
We trap him; it may be this very night.

AGRAVAINE

Stark proof for the King!

MORDRED

Nail that into his soul
Red-hot as searing iron the flesh;
Then what a weapon is a righteous cause!
He will be just. King Arthur is most just.
But when the gall is in him, when he has smelt
The wormwood up into his brain, and dyed
His very dreams black--Launcelot shall be banished,
And half of Arthur’s bravest go with him:
Or Launcelot defies him: either way
The realm’s in pieces; and my hour is come.

AGRAVAINE

Mordred, you are a devil.

MORDRED

On the instant we make certain of the King
And Launcelot’s sentence, post we to the West.
There from our vantage we can launch our powers
Ripe to the moment, and the throne is mine.

AGRAVAINE

I’d liefer have my steel in Launcelot’s heart.

MORDRED

Calm now; no hot words, and no hasty hand
Flying to the sword-hilt! Watch me and the Queen.
Wine shall be drunk to-night, and with the wine,
It may be, the truth spilt upon the floor!

(_Curtains draw back and disclose the Round Table spread
for a banquet. The knights are already assembling._ MORDRED
_and his brother joins them. Harpists attending._)

MORDRED

Good evening to Sir Gawaine!

GAWAINE

You are gay,
Sir Mordred.

MORDRED

Why not? Bright eyes match a feast.
Have you no smiles?

GAWAINE

What have you heard?

MORDRED

I? Nothing.

GAWAINE

I hear the King sits not at table with us.

MORDRED

Indeed? For what cause?

GAWAINE

There came news to-night.

MORDRED

Ill news?

GAWAINE

Who knows? News from the West, Mordred.

MORDRED

Is trouble afoot there, too? But all’s secure,
Now we have Launcelot back. Is he not here?

GAWAINE

He is with the King.

MORDRED

But I see friends of his.
Greeting to you, Sir Bors, and you, Sir Kay.

AGRAVAINE (_to_ COLEGREVANCE)

Colegrevance, be wary.

COLEGREVANCE (_going apart with him_)

What’s afoot?

AGRAVAINE

(_They whisper together._)

Be wary.

_Enter_ BEDIVERE

BEDIVERE

I come straight from the King: the Queen to-night
Presides for him. Lucan, array the guests.
The Queen approaches.

(_The guests arrange themselves. Harps. The_ QUEEN _enters
attended by her ladies. All are standing._)

GUENEVERE

Welcome and salutation to you all.
Our banquet loses what it least should lose
On such a day as this; my lord the King
Had thought to celebrate his feast with those
That bore his banners into victory:
But sudden cares absent him. Pray, be seated.
Your Queen is honoured being in his place.
Brave knights, my welcome,
A Queen’s dear welcome. Glad am I, Sir Gawaine,
To greet the legend of the land for valour,
Proud in unchampioned causes;
And you, Sir Mordred, far-seeing in counsel;
Sir Bedivere, our sovereign’s pillar of trust;
Sir Kay, Sir Bors, Sir Agravaine, Sir Lucan,
Sir Colegrevance----Is not Sir Launcelot here?

SIR KAY (_to a lady_)

Go, tell Sir Launcelot the Queen asks for him.

GUENEVERE

Welcome to you, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris.
Never a Queen
Had round her such array of peers renowned
In arms and courtesy.

GAWAINE

Most royal Queen!

MORDRED

The honour that you do us dumbs our speech.

(_The_ QUEEN _seats herself upon a raised daïs at the back.
All take their seats and the banquet begins. Each knight is
attended by his squire._)

GUENEVERE

I grieve my sickness robbed me of yesterday’s
Great jousts: I had thought to glory in them, and joy
In the prowess of antagonists so noble.

BEDIVERE

Our grief it was, your presence shone not on us.

BORS

Ah, Madam, had you seen Sir Launcelot there!

KAY

He never rode so terrible a course
In all his days.

BEDIVERE

There was no man could stand
Against the fury of his setting on.

COLEGREVANCE

Why, all men have their lucky day.

KAY

And this
Was not denoted in your stars.

COLEGREVANCE

For me
These jousts are toys.
What comfort’s in a partridge to good hunger?
Give me a pasty royally bastioned, stuffed
For siege, a challenge to the assault; and give me
Battle’s reality, not miming spears.
When the blood’s up and runs hot in the veins
Then you shall see these hands of mine at work,
Not play.

KAY

And yet methought the blood was up,
When Launcelot bore you down.

MORDRED

Ah, yesterday
Launcelot was an army, not a man.

AGRAVAINE

It seems he is too weary with his feats
To grace this royal table!

GUENEVERE

Dear my lords,
I raise a cup to your good fellowship.
If, as may chance, the semblance of division
Or the beginning of an enmity
Set any of you askance at one another,
Let it be melted in this cordial wine.
Shall it not? If a word has flown, forget it,
If any old wound be open, let it close,
And mould to-night your fellowship anew.
Drink with me all: “King Arthur’s fellowship!”

(_The knights, rising, respond with a great shout. Deep
horns sound a flourish._)

ALL KNIGHTS

“King Arthur’s fellowship.”

GAWAINE

You speak to loyal hearts.

LADY (_returning_)

King Arthur, Madam,
Takes private counsel of Sir Launcelot,
Who prays to be excused.

GUENEVERE

As the King wills.

BORS

It seems new strife is hatching in the West.

BEDIVERE

These rats gnaw at our realm on every side.

GAWAINE

So we shall soon be horsed----

GARETH

And in the field.

GAHERIS

Lavaine, there shall be spurs to win.

AGRAVAINE

These rebels
Renown us not. There’s not a knight among them.

KAY

Enough for Colegrevance to flesh his steel.

(_A laugh from_ LAUNCELOT’S _friends_)

MORDRED

While we go to the wars, ladies lament.

BORS

What, ladies, Mordred?

MORDRED

Breaker of hearts, so modest?
I thought Sir Launcelot’s comrades boasted more
Of sighs than trophies. As for me and mine----

COLEGREVANCE

We are blunt men-at-arms.

MORDRED

But you, Sir Bors;
If I were not discreeter than the dusk----

(_A laugh from_ MORDRED’S _followers_.)

GUENEVERE

Friends, of your charity!

MORDRED

I say no more.

GUENEVERE

Your tongues speak trippingly of breaking hearts,
Yet of your courtesy remember this:
A woman has no armour, has no sword;
And absent, how shall she defend herself?
If tongues be sharp with malice,
A woman must be silent. If defamers
Stab at her honour in the dark--why, still
She must be silent. I am a woman, a Queen;
And yet, how can I fight with evil tongues?
I count you all as friends, all of you here;
And if your Queen on any day should need
Armour and sword, she gives to you her honour;
The dearest thing she has she gives to you.

GAWAINE

Now may the lightning scorch the lips that made
Our loyal oaths, if we forget. In peace
As in the hour of peril, we are yours
In service absolute; and we will shed
Our bosom’s last blood to defend our Queen.
Do I not speak for all?

BEDIVERE (_raising his cup_)

For all! The Queen!

ALL KNIGHTS

We pledge her.

GAWAINE

Sword and life!

ALL KNIGHTS

Hail to the Queen!

BORS

To the most gracious lady in the land!

LUCAN

To the glory of this isle!

KAY

The Western star!

MORDRED

The radiant rose of Britain and the world!

GAWAINE

Happily spoken. Mordred hits the mark:
“The radiant rose of Britain and the world.”

ALL KNIGHTS

The radiant rose of Britain and the world.

(_A great flourish from the horns._)

GUENEVERE

Thanks to you all, thanks from my heart that glows
Great in my bosom to be pledged so queenly,
To have such praises like a crown upon me
More golden than this circlet; for I feel
Your voices are like swords upon my side
Flashing about me.
Sir Mordred, specially I thank you, since
Too seldom have we seen you grace our table.
Honour us more!

MORDRED

I am honoured past desert.
Let me again pledge that most royal beauty
Dimming the fame of queens dead and renowned.
Drink yet again, knights, to our Queen.

ALL KNIGHTS

Our Queen!

(_Another flourish._)

MORDRED

Yet something, give me pardon, something lacks
Your feast, Queen Guenevere.

GUENEVERE

Speak your desire.
I blame my entertainment that it lacks----

MORDRED

Sir Launcelot!

GUENEVERE

I have word the King requires him
In council.

MORDRED

A light is wanting by your side
When Launcelot is absent. You have spoken
Of the division that an envy breeds.
Lives one who envies not Sir Launcelot?
If it be fault,
I must confess to it. Fame he has and love,
And therefore stands the envy of the world.
Where is the man’s hand can prevail against him,
Or where the heart of woman?
When in the bright lists Launcelot rode on me
How was I dazzled? Not by him alone;
I marvelled at the red sleeve which he wore,
Beauty’s proud badge. That smote me in the eyes.
My Queen, it was your red sleeve conquered me.

GUENEVERE

A red sleeve? Launcelot?

MORDRED

Knights,
Red wine to the red sleeve! (_A pause._)
Does no one drink? Have I said aught amiss?

GUENEVERE

What does Sir Mordred rave of?

BEDIVERE

Queen, excuse.
It is but some extravagance of phrase.

LAVAINE (_shyly_)

Sirs,
This red sleeve is my sister’s.

MORDRED

Not the Queen’s?

(_A pause._)

COLEGREVANCE

Out of the mouth of babes!

MORDRED

Oh, pardon me
If in my innocence I have offended.

GUENEVERE

Sir Launcelot wore a red sleeve yesterday?
And this sleeve was your sister’s?

LAVAINE

Yes, my Queen.
She supplicated him to wear it.

GUENEVERE

She
Has healed him of his wound. For gratitude
He could have done naught else.

MORDRED

But this is marvel.
Never did Launcelot take such badge before
Of any lady. More than gratitude
This surely meant.

GAWAINE

Mordred, the Queen has spoken.
You slight her word.

MORDRED

Nay, for the Queen must joy
With all her knights in so surpassing news.
We shall see Launcelot bring to Court at last
A bride.
Sirs, drink with me to Launcelot and his bride!

AGRAVAINE, COLEGREVANCE, PATRICE, AND MADOR

To Launcelot and his bride!

GUENEVERE

I also drink to Launcelot’s fair bride.
And now, sirs, I will pray you pardon me.
(_To_ SIR LUCAN) Sir Lucan, bid my woman to attend me.

(_Pause._)

GAWAINE (_in a low voice_)

Mordred, this marring of the feast is yours.

MORDRED

I spoke but praises.

GAWAINE

Honey, dropping venom.

AGRAVAINE

Gawaine, you are ever shaping taunts at us.

BEDIVERE

Sirs, sirs, the Queen!

MORDRED

I spoke no word but what should honour her.

BORS

Sir Mordred, we
That are the friends of Launcelot know not you
So fond a lover of his fame; so pardon
If phrases of such fashion seemed to taste ...
I say no more. Yet be assured, if ill
Be meant to Launcelot, rue to him that means it.

COLEGREVANCE

A threat! By Uther’s beard, we’ll not be threatened.

MORDRED

Colegrevance, be still.
What said the Queen. Accord old feuds, be friends.
Which of us now shows her obedience?

KAY

Were Launcelot here----

AGRAVAINE

Launcelot, Launcelot!
Must we be ever plagued with Launcelot?

BORS

Yesterday, Agravaine, you had some cause.

(_A laugh from_ LAUNCELOT’S _friends_.)

AGRAVAINE

I defy you all.

BEDIVERE

The Queen!

AGRAVAINE

The Queen, it seems,
Has bidden us to be gibed at.

MORDRED