Her father laid the letter in her hand,
And closed the hand upon it, and she died.
So that day there was dole in Astolat.

But when the next sun brake from under-
(ground,

Then, those two brethren slowly with bent (brows

Accompanying, the sad chariot-bier

Past like a shadow thro' the field, that shone Full-summer, to that stream whereon the (barge,

Pall'd all its length in blackest samite, lay.
There sat the lifelong creature of the house,
Loyal, the dumb old servitor, on deck,
Winking his eyes, and twisted all his face.
So those two brethren from the chariot took
And on the black decks laid her in her bed,
Set in her hand a lily, o'er her hung
The silken case with braided blazonings,
And kiss'd her quiet brows, and saying to
(her

"Sister, farewell for ever," and again Farewell, sweet sister," parted all in tears. Then rose the dumb old servitor, and the (dead

Steer'd by the dumb went upward with the (flood

In her right hand the lily, in her left
The letter
(down
And all the coverlid was cloth of gold
Drawn to her waist, ands he herself in white
All but her face, and that clear-featured face
Was lovely, for she did not seem as dead
But fast asleep, and lay as tho' she smiled.

all her bright hair streaming

That day Sir Lancelot at the palace craved Audience of Guinevere, to give at last The price of half a realm, his costly gift, Hard-won and hardly won with bruise and (blow,

With deaths of others, and almost his own, The nine-years-fought-for diamonds: for he (saw

One of her house, and sent him to the Queen
Bearing his wish, whereto the Queen agreed
With such and so unmoved a majesty
She might have seem'd her statue, but that
(he,

Low-drooping till he wellnigh kiss'd her (feet

For loyal awe, saw with a sidelong eye
The shadow of a piece of pointed lace,
In the Queen's shadow, vibrate on the walls,

And parted, laughing in his courtly heart.
All in an oriel on the summer side,
Vine-clad, of Arthur's palace toward the
(stream,

They met, and Lancelot kneeling utter'd, (Queen,

Lady, my liege, in whom I have my joy, Take, what I had not won except for you, These jewels, and make me happy, making (them

An armlet for the ronndest arm on earth,
Or necklace for a neck to which the swan's
Is tawnier than her cygnet's: these are
(words:

Your beauty is your beauty, and I sin
In speaking, yet O grant my worship of it
Words, as we grant grief tears. Such sin in
(words

Perchance, we both can pardon: but, my (Queen,

I hear of rumours flying thro' your court.
Our bond, as not the bond of man and wife,
Should have in it an absoluter trust
To make up that defect: let rumours be:
When did not rumours fly? these, as I trust
That you trust me in your own nobleness,
I may not well believe that you believe."

While thus he spoke, half turn'd away,
(the Queen

Brake from the vagt oriel-embowering vine Leaf after leaf and tore, and cast them off, Till all the place whereon she stood was (green;

Then, when he ceased, in one cold passive (hand

Received at once and laid aside the gems
There on a table near her, and replied.

It may be, I am quicker of belief
Than you believe me, Lancelot of the Lake.
Our bond is not the bond of man and wife,
This good is in it, whatsoe'er of ill,
It can be broken easier. I for you
This many a year have done despite and
(wrong

To one whom ever in my heart of hearts
I did acknowledge nobler. What are these?
Diamonds for me! they had been thrice their
(worth

Being your gift, had you not lost your own.
To loyal hearts the value of all gifts
Must vary as the giver's. Not for me!
For her! for your new fancy. Only this
Grant me, I pray you: have your joys apart.

I doubt not that however changed, you keep
So much of what is graceful: and myself
Would shun to break those bounds of cour-
(tesy

In which as Arthur's queen I move and rule:
So cannot speak my mind. An end to this!
A strange one! yet I take it with Amen.
So pray you, and my diamonds to her pearls;
Deck her with these; tell her she shines me
(down:

An armlet for an arm to which the Queen's
Is haggard, or a necklace for a neck
Or as much fairer — as a faith once fair
Was richer than these diamonds-hers not
(mine

Nay, by the mother of our Lord himself, Or hers or mine, mine now to work my (will

She shall not have them."

Saying which she seized, And, thro' the casement standing wide for (heat,

Flung them, and down they flash'd, and (smote the stream.

Then from the smitten surface flash'd, as it (were,

Diamonds to meet them, and they past (away.

Then while Sir Lancelot leant, in half dis(gust

At love, life, all things, on the window ledge,
Close underneath his eyes, and right across
Where these had fallen, slowly past the barge
Whereon the lily maid of Astolat
Lay smilling, like a star in blackest night.
But the wild Queen, who saw not, burst
(away

To weep and wail in secret; and the barge,
On to the palace-doorway sliding, paused.
There two stood arm'd, and kept the door;
(to whom,

All up the marble stair, tier over tier, Were added mouths that gaped, and eyes (that ask'd

What is it?" but that oarsman's haggard (face,

As hard and still as is the face that men Shape to their fancy's eye from broken rocks On some cliff-side, appall'd them, and they (said,

"He is enchanted, cannot speak - and she, Look how she sleeps - the Fairy Queen, so (fair!

|

Yea, but how pale! what are they? flesh and (blood?

Or come to take the King to fairy land?
For some do hold our Arthur cannot die,
But that the passes into fairy land,“

While thus they babbled of the King, the (King

Came girt with knights: then turn'd the (tongueless man

From the half-face to the full eye, and rose
And pointed to the damsel, and the doors.

So Arthur bad the meek Sir Percivale
And pure Sir Galahad to uplift the maid;
And reverently they bore her into hall.
Then came the fine Gawain and wonder'd at
(her,

And Lancelot later came and mused at her,
And last the Queen herself and pitied her:
But Arthur spied the letter in her hand,
Stoopt, took, brake seal, and read it; this
(was all.

"Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, I, sometime call'd the maid of Astolat, Come, for you left me taking no farewell, Hither, to take my last farewell of you. I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my (death.

And therefore to our lady Guinevere,
And to all other ladies, I make moan.
Pray for my soul, and yield me burial.
Pray for my soul thou too, Sir Lancelot,
As thou art a knight peerless.

Thus he read

And ever in the reading, lords and dames
Wept, looking often from his face who read
To hers which lay so silent, and at times,
So touch'd were they, half-thinking that her
(lips,

Who had devised the letter, moved again.

Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to them all; "My lord liege Arthur, and all ye that hear, Know that for this most gentle maiden's (death

Right heavy am I; for good she was and true,
But loved me with a love beyond all love
In women, whomsoever I have known.
Yet to be loved makes not to love again;
Not at my years, however it hold in youth.
I swear by truth and knighthood that I gave
No cause, not willingly, for such a love:
To this I call my friends in testimony,
Her brethren, and her father, who himself

Besought me to be plain and blunt, and use,
To break her passion, same discourtesy
Against my nature: what I could, I did.
I left her and I bad her no farewell.

Tho', had I dreamt the damsel would have (died,

And let the shield of Lancelot at her feet
Be carven, and her lily in her hand.
And let the story of her dolorous voyage
For all true hearts be blazon'd on her tomb
In letters gold and azure!" which was
(wrought

"Queen, she would not be content Save that I wedded her, which could not be. Then might she follow me thro' the world, (she ask❜d;

It could not be. I told her that her love Was but the flash of youth, would darken (down

To rise hereafter in a stiller flame Toward one more worthy of her (would I,

- then

More specially were he, she wedded, poor, Estate them with large land and territory In mine own realm beyond the narrow seas, To keep them in all joyance: more than this I could not; this she would not, and she (died."

He pausing, Arthur answer'd, O my (knight,

It will be to thy worship, as my knight, And mine, as head of all our Table Round, To see that she be buried worshipfully."

So toward that shrine which then in all (the realm

Was richest, Arthur leading, slowly went The marshall'd order of their Table Round, And Lancelot sad beyond his wont, to see The maiden buried, not as one unknown, Nor meanly, but with gorgeous obsequies, And mass, and rolling music, like a Queen. And when the knights had laid her comely (head

Low in the dust of half-forgotten kings, Then Arthur spake among them, "Let her (tomb

Be costly, and her image thereupon.

(dames

And people, from the high door streaming, (brake

Disorderly, as homeward each, the Queen,

Who mark'd Sir Lancelot where he moved (apart,

Drew near, and sigh'd in passing,Lancelot,
Forgive me; mine was jealousy in love."
He answer'd with his eyes upon the ground,
That is love's curse; pass on, my Queen,
(forgiven."

But Arthur who beheld his cloudy brows
Approach'd him,and with full affection flung
One arm about his neck, and spake and said.

Lancelot, my Lancelot, thou in whom I (have

Most love and most affiance, for I know What thou hast been in battle by my side, And many a time have watch'd thee at the (tilt

Strike down the lusty and long-practised (knight,

And let the younger and unskill'd go by
To win his honour and to make his name,
And loved thy courtesies and thee, a man
Made to be loved; but now I would to God,
For the wild people say wild things of thee,
Thou could'st have loved this maiden, sha-
(ped, it seems,

By God for thee alone, and from her face,
If one may judge the living by the dead,
Delicately pure and marvellously fair,
Who might have brought thee, now a lonely
(man

Wifeless and heirless, noble issue, sons
Born to the glory of thy name and fame,
My knight, the great Sir Lancelot of the
(Lake."

Then answer'd Lancelot. Fair she was, my (King,

Pure, as you ever wish your knights to be. To doubt her fairness were to want an eye, To doubt her pureness were to want a heartYea, to be loved, if what is worthy love Could bind him, but free love will not be (bound."

better offer'd up to Heaven."

To whom the monk: The Holy Grail! (I trust

We are green in Heaven's eyes; but here (too much We moulder (mean

as to things without I

Yet one of your own knights, a guest of (ours,

Told us of this in our refectory,

But spake with such a sadness and so low We heard not half of what he said. What (is it?

The phantom of a cup that comes and goes?" ,,Nay, monk! what phantom?" answer'd Percivale.

The cup, the cup itself, from which our (Lord

Drank at the last sad supper with his own. This, from the blessed land of AromatAfter the day of darkness, when the dead Went wandering o'er Moriah — the good (saint,

Arimathæan Joseph, journeying brought
To Glastonbury, where the winter thorn
Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of our
(Lord.

And there awhile it bode; and if a man
Could touch or see it, he was heal'd at once,
By faith, of all his ills. But then the times
Grew to such evil that the holy cup.
Was caught away to Heaven, and disap-
(pear'd."

To whom the monk: „From our old books
(I know

That Joseph came of old to Glastonbury, And there the heathen Prince, Aviragus, Gave him an isle of marsh whereon to build; And there he built with wattles from the (marsh

A little lonely church in days of yore, For so they say, these books of ours, but (seem

Mute of this miracle, far as I have read. But who first saw the holy thing to-day?"

"A woman," answer'd Percivale, „a nun,
And one no further off in blood from me
Than sister; and if ever holy maid
With knees of adoration wore the stone,
A holy maid; tho' never maiden glow'd,
But that was in her earlier maidenhood,
With such a fervent flame of human love,
Which being rudely blunted, glanced and
(shot

Only to holy things; to prayer and praise
She gave herself, to fast and alms. And yet,
Nun as she was, the scandal of the Court,
Sin against Arthur and the Table Round,
And the strange sound of an adulterous race,
Across the iron grating of her cell
Beat, and she pray'd and fasted all the more.

"And he to whom she told her sins, or (what

Her all but utter whiteness held for sin,
A man well-nigh a hundred winters old,'
Spake often with her of the Holy Grail,
A legend handed down thro' five or six,
And each of these a hundred winters old,
From our Lord's time. And when King Ar-
(thur made

HisTable round, and all men's hearts became
Clean for a season, surely he had thought
That now the Holy Grail would come again;
But sin broke out. Ah, Christ, that it would
(come,

And heal the world of all their wickedness! 'O Father!' asked the maiden, 'might it come To me by prayer and fasting?" "Nay,' said he, 'I know not, for thy heart is pure as snow.' And so she pray'd and fasted, till the sun Shone, and the wind blew, thro' her, and I (thought

She might have risen and floated when I saw (her.

For on a day she sent to speak with me. And when she came to speak, behold her eyes Beyond my knowing of them, beautiful, Beyond all knowing of them, wonderful, Beautiful in the light of holiness.

And 'O my brother, Percivale,' she said, 'Sweet brother, I have seen the Holy Grail: For, waked at dead of night, I heard a sound As of a silver horn from o'er the hills Blown, and I thought,,,It is not Arthur's use To hunt by moonlight;" and the slender (sound