My nature's prideful sparkle in the blood Where first as sullen as a beast new-caged, Instead of scornful pity or pure scorn, Until I overturn'd him; then set up And, but for my main purpose in these And oft I talk'd with Dubric, the high I should have slain your father, seized Who, with mild heat of holy oratory, yourself. Subdued me somewhat to that gentleness, I lived in hope that sometime you would Which, when it weds with manhood, makes a man. come To these my lists with him whom best you And you were often there about the Queen, But saw me not, or mark'd not if you loved; you came, saw; Nor did I care or dare to speak with you, He spoke, and Enid easily believed, Like simple noble natures, credulous But once you came,-and with your own Of what they long for, good in friend or true eyes foe, There most in those who most have done them ill. Beheld the man you loved (I speak as one And set his foot upon me, and give me Advanced to greet them, and beholding life. her There was I broken down; there was I Tho' pale, yet happy, ask'd her not a Tho' thence I rode all-shamed, hating the But went apart with Edyrn, whom he held life He gave me, meaning to be rid of it. And all the penance the Queen laid upon me Was but to rest awhile within her court; In converse for a little, and return'd, horse, And kiss'd her with all pureness, brotherlike, And show'd an empty tent allotted her, And glancing for a minute, till he saw her Pass into it, turn'd to the Prince, and said: Prince, when of late ye pray'd me for my leave To move to your own land, and there defend Your marches, I was prick'd with some reproof, One of our noblest, our most valorous, My subject with my subjects under him, Should make an onslaught single on a realm Of robbers, tho' he slew them one by one, As one that let foul wrong stagnate and And were himself nigh wounded to the be, By having look'd too much thro' alien eyes, And wrought too long with delegated hands, death.' So spake the King; low bow'd the Prince, and felt His work was neither great nor wonderful, Not used mine own but now behold me And past to Enid's tent; and thither came come To cleanse this common sewer of all my realm, The King's own leech to look into his hurt; And Enid tended on him there; and there With Edyrn and with others: have ye Her constant motion round him, and the At Edyrn? have ye seen how nobly Of her sweet tendance hovering over him, On each of all whom Uther left in charge Of blood and custom wholly out of him, Long since, to guard the justice of the And make all clean, and plant himself MERLIN AND VIVIEN. Or guilty, which for bribe had wink'd at wrong, And in their chairs set up a stronger race A STORM was coming, but the winds With hearts and hands, and sent a thou sand men To till the wastes, and moving everywhere Clear'd the dark places and let in the law, And broke the bandit holds and cleansed the land. Then, when Geraint was whole again, they past With Arthur to Caerleon upon Usk. There the great Queen once more embraced her friend, And clothed her in apparel like the day. And tho' Geraint could never take again That comfort from their converse which he took Before the Queen's fair name was breathed upon, He rested well content that all was well. Thence after tarrying for a space they rode, And fifty knights rode with them to the shores Of Severn, and they past to their own land. And there he kept the justice of the King! But Enid, whom the ladies loved to call were still, And in the wild woods of Broceliande, Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old It look'd a tower of ruin'd masonwork, At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay. Whence came she? One that bare in bitter grudge The scorn of Arthur and his Table, Mark The Cornish King, had heard a wandering voice, A minstrel of Caerleon by strong storm name, Sware by her vows like theirs, that high in heaven Love most, but neither marry, nor are given In marriage, angels of our Lord's report. He ceased, and then-for Vivien sweetly said (She sat beside the banquet nearest Mark), And is the fair example follow'd, Sir, In Arthur's household ?'-answer'd innocently: 'Ay, by some few-ay, truly-youths that hold It more beseems the perfect virgin knight So passionate for an utter purity Brave hearts and clean! and yet-God If I were Arthur, I would have thy blood. guide them-young.' Thy blessing, stainless King! I bring thee back, Then Mark was half in heart to hurl When I have ferreted out their burrow ings, his cup Straight at the speaker, but forbore: he The hearts of all this Order in mine hand rose To leave the hall, and, Vivien following Ay-so that fate and craft and folly close, Perchance, one curl of Arthur's golden beard. him, Turn'd to her: 'Here are snakes within the grass; And you methinks, O Vivien, save ye fear The monkish manhood, and the mask of pure Worn by this court, can stir them till they sting.' To me this narrow grizzled fork of thine Is cleaner-fashion'd --Well, I loved thee first, That warps the wit.' Loud laugh'd the graceless Mark. But Vivien, into Camelot stealing, lodged And Vivien answer'd, smiling scorn- Low in the city, and on a festal day When Guinevere was crossing the great fully, Why fear? because that foster'd at thy court I savour of thy-virtues ? fear them? no. wind hall Cast herself down, knelt to the Queen, and wail'd. 'Why kneel ye there? What evil have ye wrought? Rise!' and the damsel bidden rise arose And stood with folded hands and downward eyes Among the dead and sown upon the Of glancing corner, and all meekly said, 'None wrought, but suffer'd much, an orphan maid! And then on thee! and shown the truth betimes, That old true filth, and bottom of the well, Where Truth is hidden. Gracious lessons thine And maxims of the mud! "This Arthur pure! Great Nature thro' the flesh herself hath made My father died in battle for thy King, For that small charm of feature mine, If any such be mine-I fly to thee. Gives him the lie! There is no being Save, save me thou-Woman of women My cherub; saith not Holy Writ the The wreath of beauty, thine the crown of Be thine the balm of pity, O Heaven's Courteous-amends for gauntness-takes own white her handEarth-angel, stainless bride of stainless That glance of theirs, but for the street, KingHelp, for he follows! take me to thyself! A clinging kiss-how hand lingers in O yield me shelter for mine innocency Here her slow sweet eyes Fear-tremulous, but humbly hopeful, rose Fixt on her hearer's, while the Queen who stood All glittering like May sunshine on May leaves had been hand! Let go at last!-they ride away-to hawk Touch flax with flame-a glance will serve Ah little rat that borest in the dyke In green and gold, and plumed with green Thy hole by night to let the boundless deep Well, we shall test thee farther; but this Ride, ride and dream until ye wake-to hour We ride a-hawking with Sir Lancelot. He hath given us a fair falcon which he train'd; me! Then, narrow court and lubber King, farewell! For Lancelot will be gracious to the rat, We go to prove it. Bide ye here the And our wise Queen, if knowing that I while.' She past; and Vivien murmur'd after 'Go! I bide the while.' Then thro' the portal arch know, Will hate, loathe, fear-but honour me the more.' Yet while they rode together down the plain, Peering askance, and muttering broken- Their talk was all of training, terms of art, wise, As one that labours with an evil dream, Beheld the Queen and Lancelot get to horse. Diet and seeling, jesses, leash and lure. pies, Nor will she rake: there is no baseness in her.' 'Is that the Lancelot ? goodly-ay, but Here when the Queen demanded as by |