MORTE D'ARTHUR. So all day long the noise of battle roll'd Until King Arthur's table, man by man, Had fall'n in Lyonness about their Lord, The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep the men I loved. I think that we Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were. I perish by this people which I made,— Though Merlin sware that I should come again To rule once more but let what will be, be, I am so deeply smitten through the helm Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, And took it, and have worn it, like a king: In aftertime, this also shall be known: But now delay not: take Excalibur, And fling him far into the middle meer: Watch what thou seëst, and lightly bring me word." To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere: So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stepp'd, There drew he forth the brand Excalibur, And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, In act to throw but at the last it seem'd Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd There in the many-knotted waterflags, Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave? What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard ?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And the wild water lapping on the crag." To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale: "Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name, Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight: For surer sign had follow'd, either hand, Or voice, or else a motion of the meer. This is a shameful thing for men to lie. Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word." Then went Sir Bedivere the second time, Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in thought; But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, How curiously and strangely chased, he smote His palms together, and he cried aloud. "And if indeed I cast the brand away, Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, Were it well to obey then, if a king demand The King is sick, and knows not what he does. And rumours of a doubt? but were this kept, |