Upon the hidden bases of the hills.' So might some old man speak in the aftertime But now much honour and much fame were lost." So spake he, clouded with his own conceit, And hid Excalibur the second time, And so strode back slow to the wounded King. Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily : "What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard? And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : "I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds." To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath: "Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me! Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widowed of the power in his eye That bowed the will. I see thee what thou art. For thou, the latest-left of all my krights, In whom should meet the offices of all, Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; Either from lust of gold, or like a girl Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice, And the third time may prosper, get thee hence : I will arise and slay thee with my hands." And flashing round and round, and whirled in an arch, Seen where the moving isles of winter shock So flash'd and fell the brand Excalibur : Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath: "Now see I by thine eyes that this is done. יי ! Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him, That caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard : "My end draws nigh; 'tis time that I were gone.. Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, And bear me to the margin; yet I fear My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die." So saying, from the pavement he half rose, Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm, As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere Remorsefully regarded thro' his tears, And would have spoken, but he found not words, But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard, When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King, Muttering and murmuring at his ear "Quick, quick! I fear it is too late, and I shall die." But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge, Clothed with his breath, and looking, as he walk'd, Larger than human on the frozen hills. He heard the deep behind him, and a cry Before. His own thought drove him like a goad. And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels And the long glories of the winter moon. Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, Beneath them; and descending they were ware A rose cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars, And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind, that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes, Or hath come, since the making of the world. Then murmur'd Arthur, " Place me in the barge," And to the barge they came. There those three Queens Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept. But she, that rose the tallest of them all And fairest, laid his head upon her lap, And loosed the shatter'd casque, and chafed his hands, And call'd him by his name, complaining loud, And dropping bitter tears against his brow Striped with dark blood: for all his face was white Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east ; |