Hauncelot ^lE) (QlUlEF^IEVIElRlE RICHARD HO\^EY ?s Ooo7 ^ CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Joseph Whitmore Barry dramatic library THE GIFT OP TW^O FRIENDS OF Cornell University 1934 Cornell University Library PS 2007.L3 Launcelot and Gueneverea Pi?,|'J,„iJ,,*3!!lS5, ■3 1924 022 258 572 All books are subject to recall after two weeks Olln/Kroch Library DATE DUE - — mn i'#^flBf GAYLORD PRINTED tN U.S.A, The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022258572 LAUNCELOT AND GUENEVERE LAUNCELOT AND GUENEVERE A POEM IN DRAMAS BY RICHARD HOVEY NEW YORK ' UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY SUCCESSORS TO JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 142 TO 150 WORTH STREET Y_Q (. 1; i: t ; ; (Mv'IV! K|Cl Y Copyright, 1891 Bv RICHARD HOVEY TROW DIRECTORY PRINTING AND BOOKBINDINQ COMPANY NEW YORK S")\h)\ 1.' CONTENTS. PAGE Dedication 7 The Quest of Merlin, 21 The Marriage of Guenevere, . . . .89 Act 1 93 Act II., 134 Act III., 164 Act IV., 194 Act V 227 DEDICATION. DEDICATION. God, in whose being only we become And in whose wisdom only we grow wise, Eternal Love ! first unto Thee I come, First unto Thee I lift adoring eyes. Before Thy face the prophet's speech is air, In songs of praise the only music lies. The only wisdom in the lips of prayer. To Thee, AUfather, come I, as a son Who goes upon his father's business In distant lands, might ask a benison Upon his errand. Be Thou nigh to bless And let Thy sweetness in my heart abound, Else all my labor is a weariness And all my singing but an empty sound. lO DEDICATION. And thou, divine Apollo, hear my cry, Thou brightness of the glory of the Lord ! Thou art the wings with which my song must fly, The breathing of its lips must be thy word, Its vision be the clearness of thy seeing. If in that heaven for which its thought has soared, It would at last serenely have its being. Master of poets, hear me as I call ! Circumfluent air wherethrough I take my flight. Withdraw thou not from me nor let me fall. Failing thy buoyance, into the void night ! Upbear me on thy bosom as a bird ! Apollo ! lord of beauty and of light ! Thee I invoke ! Oh, let my cry be heard ! For I at least still worship at thy shrine, Though the blind world forgets thee ; I at least Have given thee thought for meat and love for wine, Although thy temples stand without a priest And no one seeks the sweet Pierian springs. While still Astarte holds her horrid feast And Mammon's altars smoke with offerings. DEDICATION. II But I have stood upon thy holy hill, And seen thy sacred laurel-blossoms blow. — I found me in a glen beside a rill Of stainless waters whose pellucid flow Sang not as other fountains, but with clear Articulate murmurs spake, distinct and low, A secret teaching to my wondering ear. Hard by the twin peaks of the mountain soared Like aspirations rising from the wood To where the blue Greek heaven lay all outpoured, A living lake of liquid plenitude. And clouds were wrapped about the crest of one. But clear against the sky the other stood. Sharply defined and violet with the sun. ' And longer had I listened to the lore Of that strange stream, but that there reached my ear A woeful moan that made my heart ache sore, And, looking up, I saw a lady near Who fled aghast as one in mortal dread, With drawn face rigid with a nameless fear, And still her garments tripped her as she fled. 12 DEDICATION. And hard upon her heels a horrid hound, With bloody jowl and mire upon his coat, Came baying till he made the wood resound. There was a brazen collar on his throat, With intricate antique devices chased, And on that white -limbed lady did he gloat With hungry eyes, in his malignant haste. And I, all sudden starting to my feet, Weaponless as I was, would have pursued That savage beast to save that lady sweet — But in my path a gentle stranger stood With tranquil eyes that forced my feet to stay. And, as I marvelled, deep within the wood The noise of that fell hunting died away. "Not with the arm of flesh," the shade began. For not among the living was that stranger, " Mayst thou attack the beast. No courage can Avail against his cruel strength. The danger By other weapons must be combated. Till they are forged, he must remain a ranger. To make this sacred wood a place of dread. DEDICA TION. 1 3 " Come with me up the hill a little space And I will speak more of these mysteries." With that toward the peak he turned his face And we together passed among the trees, And as I went, still wondering, at his side, I said to him, becoming more at ease, " Who art thou, gentle spirit ? " And he replied, " I sang of that sad prince whose mother's guile Made the whole world a prison for his heart, And of the meek magician of the isle ; And many other matters craved my art, When Raleigh quested for the golden shore." At this, all suddenly I gave a start And broke out " Master ! " — and could say no more. By this we came into an open place That made a little hollow in the hill ; And here I saw, as I upraised my face. That which my spirit with such awe did fill As the young priest might feel before the shrine. First time he speaks the words at whose low thrill God smites himself into the bread and wine. 14 DEDICATION. For there was Dante, all his passionate face Made glorious with that peace he long did seek. Beside him jEschylus kept his Jove -like pace. A little further off the wrinkled cheek Of ancient Homer brushed almost the curled Gold locks of David — Israelite and Greek, Twin fountains of the music of the world ! And yet one more there was who toward my guide Came smiling like the younger of two brothers — The singer of that scholar who allied The Devil to him and beheld the Mothers. And to me, too, he turned him courteously In welcome, and he went on to the others, Who gave me greeting with sweet gravity. Then he who first encountered me, defeating My rash speed, spoke with brief straightforwardness And told them of the manner of our meeting, And of the lady who was in such stress. And then he laid his hand upon my hair — And oh, the gentleness of that caress ! — Saying to me, ' ' And thou didst find her fair ! DEDICATION. 1 5 " This is that lady whom I throned so high ! Alas, that she should be brought down so low ! Each morning from that horror she must fly, Each morning be devoured by that fell foe ; Yet ever when the new day quickeneth, Again she must renew her ancient woe — Perpetual struggle and perpetual death ! "If thou wilt be her knight, set forth with care, For thou shalt find a foe in every tree, To cast a venomed arrow unaware. But if thou lovest and art brave, then be Regardless of the shafts against thee hurled — Set free the lady and thou shalt set free Thyself as well and with thyself the world. " Not as a warrior undertake this vow. But in the sacred vestments of a priest. Song is more perilous than steel. Seek thou Until the Song-God's temple-doors thou seest And from the altar take his sword. Then follow Thy quest and do thy battle with the beast. Panoplied in the armor of Apollo." 1 6 DEDICATION. Then, as one who has climbed a mountain peak, Sees at first glance the outspread world upstart. Valley and lake and hill, but does not seek As yet to isolate each several part, A-gaze in contemplation of the whole. So all my song came rushing on my heart And as a flame joy flashed up in my soul. And as a flame that flashes and goes out. So all that rapture quickly sank and died. For that great theme benumbed me with misdoubt If I, in truth, were strong enough to guide The chariot of so intricate a rhyme. " Alas, this quest is not for me," I sighed. " Master, why point me where I cannot climb ? " The tragic laurel is not for my head — A simple singer, artless and unwise." Thereat the Tuscan turned to me and said Gravely, all Beatrice in his eyes, "And art thou worthy, then, of Miriam ? " And I was dumb a moment for surprise And my heart said, " Unworthy, indeed, I am." DEDICATION. 17 But shame, as for a craven thought, gave place To high resolve with awesome wonderment. And " I will sing," I said, and, full of grace, Those spirits smiled on me as well content. Therewith they took leave of that greenery, And with them through the glades I also went — I was the seventh of that company. O thou in whom all womanhood is mine ! O thou in'whom I praise all womanhood ! Miriam, the honor of my song is thine. It was the sweet sound of thy name subdued My lips to breathe their too adventurous theme. O fair enwomaning of the Sweet and Good ! sweetest thought to me in God's long dream 1 1 cannot praise thee rightly as I ought, Nor tell by what high miracle it is That thou, who art so marvellously wrought, Shouldst be the spirit that should meet and kiss My spirit in this bond of soul and sense From which begin all other unities Of wider scope but impact less intense. 1 8 DEDICATION. I praise in thee all force, in thee all form, For these in thee may best be understood ; I praise all life, because thy cheek is warm ; I praise all will, because thy will is good ; I praise in thee my country and my kin ; In thee the otherness of womanhood ; In thee all hearts that Love is welcome in. The things that lie without us, are but curled And unsubstantial smoke-wreaths to the sight ; Thou art the point at which I touch the world. The point thou touchest, I — thus benedight ! This is the mystery of the law by which The ordered spirit-multitudes unite In diapasons manifold and rich. So lies the world in little in thy heart, And so I praise and love all things in thee. Yet chiefly for thine own sweet self, my art Strives to build up its tower of harmony. Chiefly for thy sweet self I pour my life As myrrh and spikenard on thy head, to be A chrism to do thee honor, Queen and Wife. DEDICATION. 1 9 For all the songs that all the poets sing Were not too great an honor for thy worth, Seeing thou art the source from which songs spring. And all the crowns and kingdoms of the earth, Glory of Bourbon and renown of Guelph, Would only serve thy royalty for mirth, Seeing thou art crowned more highly, being thyself. sweet as only vigor can be sweet ! O strong as only loveliness is strong ! 1 come before thee with unsandalled feet, As one escaping from the chaffering throng Draws nigh an altar, and with bended knee Devote myself, the singer to the song. And song and singer each alike to thee. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. A PRELUDE. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Interior of a cavern in the bowels of the earth, be- neath Mount Hecla. Huge rock-fragments, amid which twists tortuously a great root of the tree Yggdrasil A flickering flame, by the light of which are seen the NORNS, colossal but shadowy shapes, about a gigantic but indistinct Loom. Dull, heavy sounds, out of which arises a strange music,, which resolves itself continu- ally into imperfect harmonies, which leave the heart in unrest. A sense of striving and strug- gle beats through the music. The Norns. We are the Recorders ! We are the Finishers ! Nothing we initiate ; All things we fulfil. Odin initiates And Freyja and Loki, 24 THE QUEST OF MERLIN: Divine Balder and the other Immortals. Whatsoever they begin. Relentlessly we fulfil. Ye, too, O men, are as gods ; Ye are free and the free create ; Ye have part in the Imperishable. Ever as ye follow the Beautiful, Shall the worm transfigure itself And the new-born god appear. But over your destinies we sit in doom ; Whatsoever ye begin. Relentlessly we fulfil. Think and we seize the thought ; Act and the deed once done Sinks into our iron hands. Only the unthought thought, O man, Is thine own and the deed forborne. Thou canst neither love nor doubt But the doubt and the love alike Pass into the infrangible weft of the world That we weave with inexorable fingers. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 25 We are the Queens of Time, And, while Time is, we endure. With the calm of the Empyrean We mix not, neither dwell we therein ; But over the shifting Our shuttles are inflexible. God having given us Time, Over Time we are greater than God. We are the Finishers. \A low , foreboding roll of thunder. — Merlin appears on a jutting crag in the cave, with a forked wand in his hand. — The flame flakes into sudden brilliancy, sharply defin- ing the rocky walls of the cavern, but at once sinks back into its former weak and flicker- ing indistinctness. — The NORNS remain mo- tionless, noting none of these things, nor do they actually perceive Merlin at any time.] Merlin. Hail ! Ye monstrous Glooms ! Formless Forms ! Known and Unknown ! 26 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. To what avail Through strifes and storms, Athwart the Sea that bellows and booms In the ear With the threatening of dire dooms, Strove I once alone In the starless vast of the night of fear, Dread Queens, to behold your throne ? Lo, all that passes From your touch takes shape, Yet in you I find not any shape at all. Dimly the dusk glasses To the view Shadows that fall Into the Void ; the Verities escape. Without you seeing is not nor thought, But you — Woe ! I discern you not. Urd. Sisters, how should a man's eyes see the Void? Verdande. Shadows of clouds he scans on a searchless sea. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 2"] Skuld. Between two Deeps a film of mist that shifts ! Merlin. Shadowy ones 1 Ye whom my eyes have seemed to see Many times in the weary years ! Deeper and darker the riddle appears ; Muddier the river runs. What are ye, Darknesses ? Whence have ye risen ? Are ye or seem ye ? What is it to seem or to be ? With the same awe I re-behold you As when I first clave o'er the unroadwayed sea And through the cavernous darks of Hecla's womb The way to Odin's tomb — To your earth-bound prison. Verdande. The shuttle flies. The noise of men far off Breaks faintly on our ears like distant surf. Merlin. Prison, I call it, I hold you — You, the Resistless, Monarchs of Days — As verily slaves as we. 28 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Slaves of the stone sceptre your own hands wield Over the weirds of the world— Or of some mightier Silence whose ways I find not without me revealed Nor within me enfurled. Urd. I hear a voice above the noise of men, Like a bird's thin shriek shrilling o'er the surf. Merlin. Ever thus ! I pass and return, But ye remain ever the same. I see the weft wax and the pale flame burn ; I hear dark words and ominous : But never to me ye turn ; Me ye call not by name. Skuld. The surf booms on, the billows break and cease, And the gull's cry dissolves into the wind. Merlin. Answer my thought ! Ye have answered before, — So mightily wrought My strenuous lore. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 29 By the wand in my hand I command you to show All the veils may conceal, That it ails me to know. Man and wife, is it weal ? Man and wife, is it woe ? Ye see not the wand ; Ye see not the mage : As two straws in your hand Are the fool and the sage. Ye know not 1 utter ; Ye know not ye heed ; But the words that ye mutter Shall answer my need. Speak ! Verdande. Woe to the maiden, for her doom is dark! Skuld. Woe to the knight ! His thread is stained with blood. Urd. Woe to the Prince ! For a witless fault great woe ! 30 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Merlin. Alas ! for all mortals Sorrow sits waiting. Man, hesitating, * Into the Future peers. From the dark portals Issue the Fears. Verdande. Weal for the lovers, after many days ! Urd. Ay, but they first shall sail a bitter sea ! Skuld. Weal for the King, but not till the king- dom pass ! Merlin. Weal and woe ! A dark saying ! Yeaing and naying ! How shall I know ? Urd. The seer and the seeing and the seen — Are not these three things known and yet unknown ? Verdande. To live is better far than not to live — Yea, and to live is worse than not to live. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 3 1 Skuld. The womb— the tomb — and each of these is all — And he that acts, is wise and is unwise. Merlin. A womb and a tomb ! No more ? Verdande. Who weds this woman hath a royal wife, Urd. Behold, the man she loves, a king of men ! Skuld. Each man must choose his wife and bide his lot. Merlin. She loves the Prince ! — A queenly one ! — Whom else should he wed ? Who else should share his throne ? Daughters of Time ! ye speak and convince. I have chosen a way to tread. Urd. Marriage the calm gods give, a crown of life; Marriage we give, not they, a kissing curse. 32 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Merlin. A rhymeless Rune — Is and Is Not. Solve me the riddle ! Is there no overword ? Verdande. Darkness and light ring round the globe of things, And each pursues the other as it flies. Merlin. Know ye the wand ? With the wand I compel you. Skuld. a Dragon slaying forever a deathless Queen ! There is no wit in us to make this clear. Merlin. Not in you ? Where then ? In myself ? \He strikes his own forehead with the wand. — A black formless mark appears on his brow. — He falls in a swoon.] The Norns. Over the Loom Brooding and bending, Weave we the ending, THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 33 Self-decreed doom, A robe for repayment. Hands from the Nowhere Reach the threads here to us. Hands only appear to us. Knowing not the Living Ones, Weave we their raiment. He who beholds us, Seeing no others Timeless and Free, Knows us and knows us not— > But finds not the Mothers. Into the void deeps, Blackness of Darkness Above and about him, Dizzily down Falls he forever. \As the NORNS sing, the scene becomes more and more indistinct, until, at the last stanza, their words issue from utter darkness. — A confused sound, like a law rumbling. Then 3 34 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. a clear tenor voice is heard singing: " Non- ne anima plus est quam esca ; et corpus plus quam vestimentum ? " — A ray of light breaks through the darkness, and now the song of the SYLPHS is heard. The light grows brighter, until, when the Sylphs cease singing, the scene is completely illumi- nated. — // is a grove, with a Greek temple in the background. Merlin lies, still in his swoon, upon the ground. — The NoRNS have disappeared, and beautiful figures, in classic drapery, pass in and out among the trees.] Sylphs. The fleet wind's footing Is light on the roses. Wherever he goes is The lilt of his luting, Sweet, sweet. The little green apples He sways and swings. The leaves are a-quiver. Touched by his wings. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 35 The cheek of the river Dimples and dapples, — Sweet, sweet. The light mist -wreathing Is drifted and thinned. The lark flies flinging His song on the wind. The wind with his singing Mingles its breathing, — Sweet, sweet. There is no one wisteth The way that it goeth. The wind bloweth Whither it listeth, Sweet, sweet. Gnomes [beneath, unseen]. Ho, ho ! Ho, ho I In the earth below. Like worms that coil In a slow turmoil. We huddle and struggle And delve and toil. 36 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Ho, ho 1 Ho, ho 1 Merrily O 1 Under the ground, Clogged and bound. We strive and strain To be rid of the chain, As a caged beast rages To roam again. Ho, ho ! Ho, ho ! For the brooks to flow ! Hear ye us ? Hark 1 We're at work in the dark. And in and out We burrow about Amid caves and graves With a song and shout — Ho, ho ! Ho, ho ! For the trees to grow ! The old earth Hears our mirth As a thing astir In the womb of her, THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 37 A boding of birth And a harbinger. Ho, ho ! Ho, ho ! For the flowers to blow ! Naiads \in a stream in the background]. Maiden- ly strong. With a joyous song, Very merry is the river as it ripples along. The vales are voicing A great rejoicing ; Earth laughs with flowers as the sky with morn. For a child is born. For a child is born. Sing softly. From sky and earth Is the river's birth — O the gentle joy of the river's mirth! There is never a staying In all its playing — Waylaying and straying from morn to morn — For a child is born. For a child is born. Sing softly. 38 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Who knows — who knows Why the river flows ? Coming and going — what comes and goes ? There is no resting In all its hasting. What is it that ripples and leaps along With a glad, sweet song, With a ceaseless song ? Sing softly. Angels \above, in a burst of sunlight]. Glory to God in the highest ! Osanna ! Osanna ! Behold, His dwelling is the Sun And the glory thereof His open doors. He and the blue of heaven are one And the Sea's dsedal-paven floors. He is the Beholden ; With Him to be is to be seen ; Without Him spring were never green Nor autumn golden ; By Him the nerves of sight are stirred ; Beside Him there is nought but Night ; He uttereth His eternal word, THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 39 "Let there be light," and there is light. Glory to God in the highest ! Osanna ! Osanna ! [7%^ Angels disappear, soaring upward j the Naiads sink under the waters j and the SY\.VBS,fade into the air.] Merlin [awakening-]. Sweet goddess, raise thy veil ! . . . A dream.a dream ! Methought that I was in the utter night. So black it was, sight was not, nay, nor thought — Only a sense of falling. Suddenly A great light shone about me and a form, As of a potent goddess, moved across The circle of my sight. Queen-like, she wore A threefold crown, and in her hand she kept A mirror wherein, wonderfully glassed, Meseemed I saw the mystery of things — Wried in a sort but rimmed about with wonder. And by her side there crawled a shackled slave That kissed the mirror. From her head there fell A veil that clad whatever form she bore In awful folds, so that I could not see 40 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. If she were fair or foul. Yet from her gait A sound came singing, as it were the voice Of many dulcimers. Whereat I cried Aloud and woke. . . What vale is this ? The leaves Show not the tiniest mote-fleck of decay. Each little grass-blade — ay, the very mushrooms, Perfect as in a poet's thought of them ! My boyhood's dream of what the world might be ! Ah me ! I dream still. This is a sweet nothing — The phantasmagory of a thought-crazed brain. I am too old to cheat myself with dreams. I have dropped my plummet into the great deeps, But nowhere found I this. It is a dream. . . What eyes are those that peer between the leaves With laughter in their looking ? Do I see Or do I dream 1 see brown beautiful arms And breasts half-hidden by the russet gown, A-shift like japk-a-lantems in the trees ? Dryads \half-seen in the trees]. See the queer old fellow With the moss-gray beard ! His eyes are bleared And his skin is yellow. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 4I Prying and peering — Hist! hark! He can hardly see, For his eyes grow dark ; And the voice of a tree Is too fine for his hearing. For him, when blossoms are blowing, No fruitage appears. Deaf are his ears To the music of growing. The leaf in the flower, The flower in the fruit, The fruit in the seed And the seed in the root ! There is only the need Of the eye and the hour. Come and catch us, Grizzle ! Why stand a-gaze ? Take the sunshiny ways ! Quit the fog and the drizzle 1 Break the split wand And be done with the magic ! 42 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Know thyself truly, Half-silly, half-tragic ! Only shown wholly To the Lover we stand. Merlin. Something is stirring in the leaves, but what My old eyes grow too misty to make out. I catch a sound of singing, but the words Escape me. Alas ! the wisdom of the old Is like a miser's hoard — laid up with toil To lavish on a mistress — she being dead. The old man counts his useless treasure over. More joyless that it once had brought such joy. {Enter a rout of Fauns, crowned with ivy and ■vine leaves, and dancing and singing to the sound of their tambourines. As they sing, they make mops and mows at MERLIN.] Fauns. Hear the crickets chirrup ! Jolly little fellows ! Summer's in the stirrup In his reds and yellows. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 43 The bumble-bee hangs over The honey-hearted clover — Lazy, drunken rover ! Buzz ! buzz ! buzz ! Foxes in the poultry-yard, Making free with chickens ! Crows in the cornfield, Scratching like the dickens ! {Enter Pan and SATYRS, with Pan-pipes.] Pan. Pipe ! pipe ! For it's merry to live in the shade — To lunch on the hillside under the trees, To munch lush figs and oranges And crunch fat pig-nuts, lying at ease, Looking over the summer seas. SATYRS. Pipe ! pipe ! For it's merry to live in the shade ! Fauns and Satyrs [softly, as Pan pipes']. Hist ! list ! While the great god Pan pipes sweetly. Whist ! all whist ! His fingers ripple featly 44 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Over the oaten keys — A noise as of many trees And of all sweet sounds together, Brooks that laugh in the intervales, Birds and bees in the dreaming dales. The cool breeze whispering low all-hails Over the sunlit heather In the sleepy summer weather. Hist ! hist ! [Pan sits by the river, surrounded by Satyrs. The Fauns gather about MERLIN. The scene becomes cloudier. \ Bassarids [without]. On the height to-night — Speed the news, speed the news ! Sting and smite The wind with a tempest of shrill halloos ! — When the lynx is abroad and the red moon shines Through the rents in the roof of the raftered pines, And the black clouds rise from the muttering east And the hot winds storm from the tremulous south, THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 45 There shall be the pale foam of passionate faces a-surge With a sea-like iterant urge, Round the fire and the feast, And the red blood shall be smirched on the blood- red mouth. Halloo ! Halloo 1 There's a feast afoot. The torrent howls like a hungry brute And the owls shriek — Tu-whoo ! tu-whoo ! Fauns \about Merlin]. Tickle his ear ! Tickle his nose ! Hey, old wrinkle-face, isn't it queer ? Sneeze, now — sneeze — ah ! — there she goes ! [Enter Bassarids, with cymbals, noisily. As they sing, Bacchus appears in a car drawn by leopards. He is surrounded by MiENADS, bearing beakers of wine.^ Bassarids. Hark 1 the lean wolf yelps ! And his eyes are red balls in the dark ; 46 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. And the whine of the she-bear's whelps Wails on the wind — hark ! Hasten, Sun, to the dolphining west ! Speed, black Night, from the hooded east ! Bring to our nostrils the smell of the feast ! Bring the locks unbound and the limbs released And the tigerish lover that bites the breast ! The torn red flesh and the beakers of blood ! And the riot and rush through the maddening wood ! Hark ! the wolf ! U-lu-lo ! U-lu-lo ! Bacchus. Wine, ho ! wine, ho ! Set the goblets ringing ! Clink, clink ! clink, clink ! Hail, the laughter-bringing ! Wine that makes the blood beat fast And sets the senses tingling ! How the world goes reeling past To the wine-cups jingling — Reeling, wheeling round about. In and out, to and fro ! — The trees spin with us in our rout THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 47 And leap as long ago— ho, ho ! And leap as long ago They jigged it to Amphion's lyre — Wine and Song have one desire. M/ENADS. Wine, ho ! Clink, clink ! — The goblets chime. Wine, ho ! Drink, drink ! So we conquer time. Time lies drunk among the reeds, Sleeping off his evil deeds. Bacchus. Let the future brood and bode Let the past go spinning ! Pluck the roses by the road. You'll find them worth the winning. Let the tipsy days go by. Take their gifts ! Let them go ! Laugh back at the laughing sky, And when the storm-winds blow — ho, ho ! And when the storm -winds blow, Outdin the thunder-throated skies With tumult of your revelries ! 48 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. MjENADS. Wine, ho ! wine, ho ! Through the veins a-laughing. Like a sparkle on the flow Of the upland brooks that go Seaward wavering — swift, slow ! Wine, ho ! wine, ho ! The god pours out his life-blood so That madmen may be quaffing. [The Satyrs, Bassarids, and Fauns crowd about Bacchus and produce cups which they fill from his exhaustless wine-skins. The Fauns drag Merlin to the centre and crown him with vine-leaves. The MiE- NADS caress him and ply him. with wine.] MiENADS. Come, old wherefore-seeker, Let the Fates go flying 1 See within the beaker Joy imprisoned lying, Like a sunbeam taken In a roguish eye ! Drink ! let life awaken And grave-mold wisdom die ! THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 49 Thought is gray and life is green — These are what men choose between. Full Chorus. Wine, ho ! wine, ho I See it foam and flash — yeo-heigh ! Wine, ho ! wine, ho ! Let the cymbals clash ! The deep hill-gorges Buffet back our orgies. The heart throbs quicker, quicker, With a lightning-leap of mirth, As the madness of the liquor Turns the blood to flaming ichor And makes music of the earth. See the crags shake to and fro, Toppling to the lake below ! Wine, ho ! wine, ho ! Yeo-heigh ! merrily, merrily. A Faun. Thy lips are teasing to be kissed. A MjENAD. Kiss me, then, but catch me first. A Satyr. Love dries up my throat like thirst. Let me clasp thee as I list ! 50 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. A Bassarid. The swift fire slays me. Satyr. Joy ! she wavers. Another Faun. Leave us, goat-heels! She's for me. Bassarid. Fight it out ! We like to see Battles for our favors. Fauns and Satyrs. The garments slipping in the dance Show here a breast and there a thigh. Bassarids. The wild beast glares in every glance. MiENADS. There are shady coverts nigh. [Exeunt Fauns and Satyrs tumultuously , chasing Maenads and Bassarids. Bac- chus, laughing, follows them leisurely in his car. Merlin attempts to follow, but falls tipsily. The scene lightens^ Pan. O river rippling at my feet Among the reeds and rushes ! O leaves that lisp applause to greet The thrilling of the thrushes ! THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 5 1 Some prescience of the reedy life hushes the noisy stream, And whispering leaf to leaf, the listening bushes of bird-songs dream. \Exit Pan. Angels \above, unseen]. The Lord God is a God of the living. To the works of His word The Lord's heart is not chary of giving The life-blood of the Lord. Through the manifold forms of His moulding It streams, and its working is rife, Forever enfleshed and unfolding — Life, life ! Though the beast rend his fellow asunder And the hawk on the slain lark feeds, He hath made them whose voice is the thunder And He knoweth His deeds. Without night were no dawn And day were not known to be day. But what eye understands ? Who knoweth His way ? Tiger and fawn Alike are the work of His hands. 52 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Yea, Darkness He maketh and Strife, Who is Light and Love ; And Death hath He wrought, who is Life ; . And Change, who sits changeless above. But under the earth and the heaven The arms that uphold them abide, And Death shall be slain, say the Seven That stand by His side. {A pause. Enter Mab and Fi».iRiES.] Fairies. With the pallid lunar dawn Trip we forth from Avalon, And our mirth Ripples o'er the dreaming earth. Over hill and valley dancing Goes the tinkling of the beat Of our many-twinkling feet And the sound is as the glancing Of moonlight on the lake. Then when only watch-dogs wake, Though the gates be kept and barred, It goes hard THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 53 But we mock both bars and keepers, And the sleepers Rouse not for the silvery din Of our noisy coming-in. Or in the glen, Far from the haunt of men, Where the solemn owls protest At our every light-heeled jest, Like the stupid-wits they are. With a hoot. There our mischief is afoot, And the twinkle of each star Laughs back at us from afar. [A dance of FAIRIES.] Mab. Quick, fairies, to the river and scoop up With shell-like hands a shower of watery pearls To sprinkle on this ancient tippler here. A Fairv. What see I here ? Am I so beautiful ? My Queen, look how the water glasses us. \The Fairies are absorbed in the contemplation of their reflection in the water. Enter Puck 54 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. and Goblins; afterward Oberon, Ti- TANIA, and the Elves.] Goblins. In the night, Guided by uncertain torches That affright Luck-belated travellers. We delight To pass beyond the porches Of the templed universe, To explore with midnight lore Secrets hidden from the sun — To seek the many in the one — Whether the elements be four Or more — How the rose blooms and grows, With what blood its petal glows — What meat doth it eat In the eyeless underground. Sure, some rare thing's to be found. If we could but fathom it. So we delve in doleful places For its traces, Where the dead lie inurned THE QUEST OF MERLIN, 55 And the paint rots from fair faces, And the armor crumbles with rust, And the body is returned To its elemental dust. Puck. Ugk-gnn ! Ugk-gnn ! What a lugubri- ous chant ! You're not a whit better than so many frogs That croak at eve in some o'ershadowed pool. Why, what a mumbling is here of churchyards ! Bats' blood ! We're in Avalon now. Be a little gayer. Surely, We haven't entirely forgotten to be merry. For my part, I have small taste for skulls, unless They be sawn across and mounted for drinking-cups. Give me a pumpkin every time, with holes For eyesockets and nostrils, and a candle To make you think the Devil himself is in it. \The Goblins have begun suddenly to dig in the ground. Out of it they produce a shining metaLI Goblins. Lo, here ! Behold What the earth doth hold ! 56 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Out of the clay A brightness we bring, Better than gold, To the air and the day. It is moonlight made A substantial thing — A splendor laid Under the dark mould. By witless gnomes in the days of old. \As the Goblins throw the metal up out of the earth, the Elves take it and build of it a bridge over the stream,^ Elves. We travel with a little pack Of wonder-tools upon each back, As light as any feather ; We have a happy, handy knack Of putting this and that together. We spin the film of gossamer The woodsman brushes from his face ; We weave the cobweb's airy lace No gust can rend, a breath may stir ; We raise the mushroom's gay pavilion. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 5/ And duskier toadstools by the million ; We contrive the chestnut-burrs, Craftiest artificers. One is nothing if another Be not by to make it more : Brother atom knows its brother : Two and two are more than four. Give us tools and give us stuff — We'll make contrivances enough. Puck. Bah ! You play the sage detestably. Now, here's one, lying by this trunk. Proves his wisdom incontestably. Getting sapiently drunk. And in that condition, he perceives that marvel- lous structure you are so proud of, but as a thin line of light in the eastern sky, though it is already high noon. To the inspired vision of this bacchanalian wisdom here, everything is upside down, the trees gambol and pirouette, and the unintelligent ripples wink gravely and confidentially. He sees our heads where our heels are, and our heels where our heads are, our virtues as vices, and vice versa. 58 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Rogues true and heroes scurvy — ^ So the world goes topsy-turvy. TiTANiA. Mocker of the elfin tribes, Cease, Prithee, thy ungentle gibes. I will bring the man release. Mortal, who with weak sight still To discern the true art fain, I alone have will and skill To clear the cobwebs from the brain. Let the perfume of this flower. Stealing to the seat of sense. Free the spirit from their power By its holy influence. And yet I know that thou wilt spin Still subtler films when these be gone. To wrap the vacant vision in And dim the light of Avalon. Oberon. Where's Ariel ? His wand shall change This structure that my elves have wrought, THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 59 To something far beyond their thought, It is a miracle so strange. Puck. You never do a thing yourself. But some poor devil of an elf Is made through weary leagues to beat His wings or run on restless feet, While you lie dreaming in the wood, Lapped in inactive lassitude, Wrapped like Morgana in the mist — Sometimes I think you don't exist. Oberon. Whimsiest of the fairy brood, I cannot scold you if I would. But keep a rein on what you say ; When I command, even you obey. Who more than all delight to shirk. 1 give the law, ye do the work. [Ariel has appeared on the bridge, which is completed.'] Ariel. Far away 1 heard your call, Lord and master of us all. By your wishing I was caught In the shadow-land of thought, 6o THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Where the midnight and the day Mingle in a twilight gray, Through which wander here and there Wondrous fantasies of air, Throngs of thewless Anakim, Cities half-discerned, and dim With a rosy veil of mist Spreading into amethyst. There that golden country lies, Sometimes seen of mortal eyes As a vision in the skies. Wretches in the desert straying See its silver fountains playing, Hasten forward to their slaying ; For the hungry lion lies Couched beneath the brazen skies, And the vision faints and dies. And the simple sailor flees From the tranced ships he sees, Glamour of diableries. But the graybeards smile and say, " Arthur's sister, Morgan Fay, Is in elfinland at play. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 6 1 Trust her not, for she entices Sagest wits with her devices. Lo, this is not what it seems." — Yet it ne'er could haunt their dreams, If it did not somewhere stand On the firm unshifting land. Thence I come and thither go. Master, what you will I know, And I do your bidding — so ! \He touches the bridge with his wand. It is transfigured and becomes the rainbow- bridge, Bifrost, reaching from earth to heaven. The entire fairy rout march up and out of sight, singing i\ {Enter Aphrodite and the Loves.] Loves. Daedal-throned, imperishable Aphrodite! Child of Zeus, O thou of the many-colored Spirit, crafty-hearted, devising twofold. Slayer and saviour ! Who shall praise thee ? Who shall be found whose fingers 62 thM quest of merlin. Now may strike the Lesbian lute to greet thee When thou leav'st the Paphian myrtle-coverts, Yoking thy chariots Lesbos-ward to cleave the dissolving ether ? Only inarticulate wild sea-voices Sound, O sea-born Love, where thy lost sweet singer Drifts with the sea-tides. Yet thy lips are sweet as of old with laughters. Time grows gray, but still in thy golden tresses. Sunlight lurks and loiters, thou Queen forever. Deathless and ageless ! [The Valkyrs appear, descending Bifrost.] Valkyrs. Ho, for the harrying And havoc of battle ! The crush of the conflict ! The clashing of spears ! Ho, for the hero ! Many -and mighty The foemen that meet him, A white-hot mass Of hammered metal ! THE QUEST OP MERLIN. 63 Weapon and warrior Welded in the war-forge ! So they surround him, But he, heavy-handed, Hacking them dauntlessly, Does them to death. We from Valhalla Hasten and hover Over the war-valley, Heartening the heroes. Ho, for the strong man. Stout-hearted in strife, Overthrown but unthralled, Overborne but unbroken, Daring and doing, Mighty of will ! Loves. What strange goddesses these, slender, with streaming hair. Clean-limbed, vigorous, tall, fair as the pine is fair ? Lithe, strong, virginal forms treading with martial gait Down yon sevenfold arch, resolute, stern, elate ? 64 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Lo, their helmets upcast splendors that stream to heaven. Seven lights from the bridge, up from the helmets seven ! Conquest sleeps in their eyes, victory binds their brows. Strength lies still on their lips, waiting till wars arouse. Whence and why do they come, halting before our Queen ? What have we for their wills, passionless and serene ? Yet are they wondrous fair, fair in a sweet, strange wise. With the sunlight in their hair and the blue sky in their eyes. Valkyrs. Lo, the Goddess we seek ! The Queen from the South ! Lo, her delicate cheek ! Her adorable mouth ! Her eyes that are limpid with laughters, and sparkle as springs never dried by a drouth ! O gentleness, bending With royal reserve 1 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 65 O queenliness blending With languors that swerve Down the sweep of the lines of imperial' limbs, that, stately and splendid of curve, Rise poised like the calla, Superb in its grace ! The gods in Valhalla, O Queen, are a-gaze With the rapture of rumors that reach them and rouse them to look on the light of thy face ! Come, then, and o'er us Thy radiance throw ! In the heart of our chorus Let love lie aglow, As the breath of the brief northern summer that wakens the May-flowers under the snow. Aphrodite, Maidens and gods and messengers of gods, I see you fair and goodly and made bright With flashing armor and with floating hair. Not otherwise of old I saw the queen, Hippolyta, whom yet for all her spears I made to follow where at first she fled, 5 66 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Compelling to rebellious loyalty, Subduing her proud will to Theseus' love, Even as the smiling of the sun subdues. For strength is good, but strength that knows not love Is as a random archer in the dark, And many shafts are shot whose flight is vain, And some work evil. Yet not this alone — Ye bring me gifts as I bring gifts to you. Love without will and might of the strong arm Is bitterness and ashes of dead fruit. Be my attendants, then ; I need your spears. Loves and Valkyrs. Throw open your arms, O Valhalla ! Cry out and rejoice ! For she comes with the sunlit hair And the face divinely fair. And the brook-soft voice ; And a whisper of lutes is heard. The rustle of unborn leaves in the air And the song of an unseen bird. Lift up your heads, O ye gates, And the Queen of Love shall come in. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 6/ With the steel of the north in her hand And the heart of the south within ; And the snow shall melt from the frozen land, And the summer leaves be green. Lift up your heads, O ye gates, And the Queen of Love shall come in 1 \Exeunt, singing, over the bridge Bifrosi.} [Enter Argente and eight Maidens, crowned with wreaths and carrying garlands in their hands i\ Maidens. Rosebuds and apple-blossoms I Fairer than they seem 1 In our hair and in our bosoms Lying in a dream 1 Living and dreaming — Visionless and mute — Underneath their simple seeming Lurketh flower and fruit. Denying and averring As yet they do not know — Only an unconscious stirring Where the thought shall grow. 68 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Dreams of joy and sweetness Fill each rosy leaf, And the yearning for completeness Is a dream of grief. Wise without intellection, Dreaming toward their fate. Perfect in their imperfection, Let them wait — Let them wait. Merlin. If that thou be a spirit, or a dream, Or but a wonder of sweet maidenhood, I know not. But, I pray thee, maid or dream Or spirit, be as gracious as thy looks. I am a man much worn with years and sorrows. Hither have I come I know not how, and where I am I know not. Guide me hence, I pray, — Or, since thou seemest attended as a queen, Bid one of these thy servants go with me And set my feet upon some way that leads To many-towered Camelot. There I dwell And serve King Arthur, counselling his reign. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 69 Argente. Thou sayest ; I am a queen. But I reign not in the fashion that thou deemest ; Neither are these servants, but my kinswomen, among whom I am crowned by love only, Service with service exchanging, their least with my most counted equal. One, not unknown to thee, Merlin, is near, the ninth of my maidens, And she, when she cometh, shall conduct thee whithersoever thou wilt. The way is Not long to the battlements of Camelot, though long from Camelot hither. Merlin. I know not how thou knowest my name, and_yet With many marvels I am so distraught That I no longer gape at anything. Who art thou, lady, and what place is this ? Argente. I am the Lady of the Lake, and this is the valley of Avalon. The violets of spring and the roses of summer and the fruitage of autumn ^0 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Here burgeon together, and the North here mingles with the South and is lost in it As a lover is that lingers in the arms of his mistress till he swoons and is one with her. Once hitherto hast thou seen me, O Merlin, when Nimue the water-witch Sent thee with Arthur to the lake-shore, for a gift that should gain him his kingdom ; And there clave through the sheen of the shield that the lake holds up to the heaven An arm for the boss of it that bare the great brand, Excalibur, and brandished it ; And Arthur with a cry sprang down to the shore where a light skiff lay for his using And leaped to the oars, and the boat shot forward like the darting of a kingfisher, Swift-sent by the urge of his eagerness out into the serene fire-splendor, Till it stopped in the centre a-quiver as an arrow is that strikes in a target. Then from my hands he received it. — But lo, she comes — Nimue ! THE QUEST OF MERLIN. J I [Enter Nimue.] Hail, sister ! Nimue. Hail, my Queen ! Merlin. What, the beautiful Nimue ! Nimue. Welcome to Avalon, Master ! Merlin. O lady, I should rather do Thee reverence. Alas, what kingship sits In these gray hairs? Master? The child treads firmlier Over rough ways; but I, the seer, am blind And grope and stumble like a man in the dark. Nimue. Ay, but if thou stumblest in paths where another would perish — ! Blind? Rather say keen-eyed as the hunter that follows The fleet-foot goat on the mountain, till, lost in the cloud-mist, Sheer at his feet gulfs gaping, he stops in amazement, Dizzy and doubting — but another had never dared climb there. 72 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Merlin. Thy words are like a wood-brook in my ears. But, gentle lady, I am sick at heart : Increase of knowledge increaseth mysteries ; And, knowing much, I know that I know nothing. NiMUE. Yet something I hold it, being man, to put question as thou To the gods, though the gods render answer in riddles. Merlin. Ah, me ! Too well I know the bridgeless vast between The most high gods and men. Let but these limbs Be once more lithe and tense, and so endure — These smouldering eyes flame with immortal fire — What do I say ? — Make the soul young again To tread with step perennially light The ways of thought and passion, and o'erleap The hedges and the dykes of circumstance — There were the godlike ! — then I might dare think . . . Of what is less than a day-defeated dream. THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 73 NiMUE. Why breakest thou so suddenly off, too modest ? Dreams are from God. So oft is an oracle spoken. Merlin. Thy words are as a lure to the fatal springe Of mine own folly. Nimue, Nimue ! . . . First time 1 saw thee, 't was in a frail skiff Among the water-lilies of the lake — Standing upright, borne on without wind or oar, As if the spirit of the flowers had risen Over them in a mist and, floating there, Rounded at last to definite shape — in thee. Since then at night I have seen thee by my bed And in the day— But I have not been a fool. Mere man am I and weak with years, nor choose, Leaping at godhood, to fall back to earth, Crippled and bleeding. Nimue. Manhood is godhood in germ — Aught less is brutishness. Anywise, whoso would win, Be it godhood or devilhood, must leap. 74 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Merlin. I have talked face to face With gods and demons, and have dared to seek The awful cavern of the Norns and held Strange questionings with them ; yet none the less I know myself— mere man. Not mine to hope Youth and the goal, the joy of mastership. The poise of achievement — these are for the gods. Argente. Thou earnest from Hecla hither ? Merlin. Ay, but by some strange route I know not of. NiMUE. Dark riddles speak they, the sullen-mut- tering Norns. Why wouldst thou scan their searchless mysteries ? Argente. Concerning what didst thou demand of them ? Merlin. Of Arthur and the maiden, Guenevere. Argente. Seeks Arthur, then, a queen ? Merlin. He would be wed. Argente. Beware lest he find a queen, but not a wife! THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 75 Let him not marry her, Merlin ! Ah, woe ! I see a great woe in the land. Merlin. Shall all his might be lost with which he strove, Building the mightiest throne in the round world, The noblest — for failure of a hand to keep His conquests ? For a child is as ourselves, Renewed, corrected, wiser for our lives, Achieving wholly where we partly failed. Argente. With much devising we shall change no whit What God shall do with that which we have done. Merlin. What, shall our labors fail ? Argente. The kingdom shall pass utterly. But he, the king, shall wear a greater crown. Merlin. Knowing all this, why questionest thou me? Argente. Yon world of days and nights where Arthur lives, I know but as thou knowest. 76 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Merlin. Over it they rule, The Norns, the unfaltering. Why keepest thou me here, then, With empty words ? Argente. O weak in wisdom ! Knowest thou not, then, that here Thou, too, wert born. Camelot ? The world ? A dream. Wherein thou movest about Amid thin apparitions ! NiMUE. Here, here, O Merlin, Delights await thee, Soft lips that smite and sweet hanas that kiss. Love that decays not, Joy that delays not. Thought that grows thing Without groaning, a gladsome travailing. Merlin. O subtly fair and beautifully wise. With what device wouldst thou ensnare my mind ? Argente. Understandest thou not ? Thou, who art subtle beyond thought ! THE QUEST OF MERLIN. yj NiMUE. O slow of faith 1 Lo, I invite thee Out of the shadows To the firm and the free. Argente. I charge thee, as thou wouldst avert great woe, Let not the king take Guenevere to wife. Merlin. Wouldst thou be mightier than the Norns ? Argente. Over the beginnings They have no power. Theirs but to conclude. Merlin. Who shall persuade their wills ? Who shall unspeak their words ? Argente. Even thou understandest not as yet their speech. Merlin. A brittle anchor is thought ; But the storm bellows and ramps and the gods in heaven are earless. Weak as it is, I cast it out to the tide. 78 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. NiMUE. Yet are there winds that blow to a secure haven. Argente. Wilt thou trust the hope of the world to a slender cord ? Merlin. Nay, what seems best to my divided soul, That must I do, let it be well or ill. Argente. .Ai, ai ! The fate of the king, the grandly-defeated ! For over many ways he toils, with hope High-set, to find a darkness and a chasm. Merlin. What ill is this, whereof she prophe- sies ? Argente. Woe, woe ! The dream of the new earth Is broken and shattered. It drives before the wind As torn clouds after the spent storm. Merlin. What shall endure ? For, although one should build THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Jg Upon a rock, there is the earthquake. Ay, The earth itself shall be cast as straw in the fire. And there shall none know where in the trackless gulfs Of interstellar darkness, thundering. It charioted once its swift predestined way. Argente. Ah me ! A blessed lot is the lily's in the lake. That waits the rounding of its circled life Without the sense of unfulfilled desire. Maidens. Comfort thee, O our Queen I The best is yet unseen. Even we, as the earth-born. See not the very end To which our footsteps tend. Through tears and mirth borne. This use may lie in sorrow, — To drive the soul to strive and strain. Building its vast and sunsetless to-morrow. To escape to-day's intolerable pain. 8o THE QUEST OF MERLIN. If to all grief a sweet surcease were given, How should the spirit unfold to larger scope ? Why should we strive for heaven, If earth fulfilled our hope ? [Argente and the maidens have withdrawn a little space.^ Merlin. O Nimue, had it been but possible, That thou an earthly maiden, I a lad. With nought to know or to forbode beyond The thoughts that stir the thrushes in the co- verts ! O Age ! what better boon hast thou to bring Than love and song ? But Arthur waits for me, And what should I, an old man, have to do With dreams of a completion for myself Who daily weaken toward the undoing of all The half-wrought in me — death. Elsewhere I look To find the fruit grown ripe that fell in me, Blasted in flower-time. Arthur waits for us. NiMUE. Be it so, then. I summon my ministers. —Ho! THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 8 1 Arise, ye that turmoil beneath there 1— Yet once again I shall pass from thy sight as the violet light on the sea When the sun sinks into a cloud. — Arise, ye starve- lings I — But, oh, my master and lord 1 Thou shalt hear in the teasing of leaves stirred by the wind, In the lisp of the lake through the reeds and the swan's harsh cry. Made strangely, mournfully sweet in the cool and the dusk As it comes from afar o'er the waters, a message of me ; For I wait for thee — there in the reeds ! As a glen in the woodland waits, with the touch of the sun Slant-struck through the leaves on the brook and the grasses (a throstle A-lilt in the bush), till the man, world-weary, ap- pearing, Worn with contention and evil, rests in her arms, 6 82 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. And his fever is cooled and his limbs wax youthful and strong, And the sin is cleansed from his soul and the mist from his eyes, And the bird in his heart wakes, singing of love and peace. — Arise, I say, monsters ! Arise ! Earth waits and the carrion of earth ! Hunger ye not ? [The ground opens and flames appear. Through the opening a car rises, drawn by dragons. NiMUE enters the car and extends her hand to Merlin who follows her. The car rises into the air and disappears in the dis- tance.] Argente. With grinning jaws They gape horridly, Bearing him back where body and soul Gnaw juiceless bones continually. Jag-toothed dragons, shutting and opening your eyes With hideous slowness I THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 83 In my soul, too, is a hunger. Ai, ai ! The bite of the tooth in flesh that cannot waste ! Maidens. Comfort thee, O our Queen 1 Sorrow is dear to the wise, Who know that Love is leading. And believe — for have they not seen ? Mystery of mysteries ! The crowned brow is bleeding, Argente. Alas, my sisters ! you are good to me. Your presence is as starlight to my spirit. Your words are as a bird's song in the trees When all the woodland sorrows under clouds. I know the end is sweet — I see it plain. As the jay yonder the bough to which it flies. But oh, the way is long and the heart weak ! Is the physician's wound less sore Because his cunning knows that it will heal ? The fallen warrior With the broken shaft of the spear driven as a nail Through muscle, sinew, bone, lung, heart — Feels he not, though Valhalla open 84 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. And the Valkyrs wait with cup and crown, Sharp anguish, intolerable gaspings that pierce Each with keen torture the frayed nerves, killing him A hundred times for once ? Ai, ai ! It is not all a good to see the things That shall be. He that will soar to topmost heaven, Must plunge, too, down to the voiceless lowest of hell. Ye shall not know the good without the evil, Saith the Lord God. Ai, ai ! I see the maiden stand in the choir. The royal robes are girt upon her. Priests And choristers intone monotonously. The sunlight falling bloodily through the panes, Is dim and thick with incense. The King comes ! I see him take her fatal hand in his. Otototoi ! The breath of the god Tingles on my forehead ! My flesh quivers with its power ! The dread that hung over me sunders as a cloud. A sunlit garden — lay this behind the gloom ? And he — is he my fear ? THE QUJ^ST OF MERLIN. 8S Beautiful as Balder he stands by the beautiful queen, High-thoughted, kingly as a cedar. From the high hills the woe cometh, A desolating avalanche ! . . . . The scabbard, Arthur ! Quick ! The intriguing fingers close on it. Awake ! The sword itself is less precious. Ah ! . . Woe ! woe ! The stark bodies of the slain ! — Spare me, Spirit that overbroods me ! I endure not the vision ! I am slain with intense whirling of tumultuous life ! Back, bodeful clouds ! Once again, as with inrolling waters. Engulf the insufferable sight ! Otototoi ! The din of shields and the shouts of the warriors ! The death-birds hovering afar off! ... . Where is he, my king, my beloved ? Over the sea-like sparkle of shields I seek him — in vain. Ah, ah ! There, in the crest of the war-surf — 86 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Arthur, Arthur ! He struggles toward the treacherous chief. Their swords clash. O valiant prince ! O misbegotten traitor ! . . . . He falls— the King ! the King ! The battle sweeps away like a black cloud. What, ho ! a rescue ! knights ! Kaye ! Bedevere ! Quick 1 To the lake ! to the lake ! Arthur, I wait for thee ! {She falls back exhausted and is surrounded by her maidens, screening her from, sights Maidens. Comfort thee, O our Queen ! Through warring and woe The man and the woman Build heaven for themselves. From the deeps where it delves Uplifted, the human Soars to the divine, Though the void intervene. Pierce through the veils and lo. The sevenfold light of the shrine ! [Exeunt slowly, singing.\ THE QUEST OF MERLIN. 87 Angels \ab(yve.\ Holy ! holy ! holy ! Which wert and which art and which shalt be, World without end ! Alleluia ! In Thyself is the end And the cause of Thy being, O Thou beyond name ! In the mystery of Thy seeing, The eye and the vision blend. 'Mid the shifting and fleeing Thou abides! the same. Death and birth Are the garment of Thee ! The seed and the bud ; — But ere these is the thought of a tree. Behold, the bread of the earth And the wine of the sea Are Thy body and blood. Love, which is light. Brings to earth the far sun. Love, which is life. Blood-red through Thy body doth run. 88 THE QUEST OF MERLIN. Love, which is spirit, shall smite Thought and thing into one. As a man and a wife. Holy ! holy ! holy ! Which art in all and through all and beyond all ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE A TBLAGEDY. ■ Brothers of Launcelot, Knights of the Round Table. PERSONS. Arthur, King of Britain. Merlin, his Counsellor. GODMAR, the Lord Marshal, Launcelot du Lac, Ector de Maris, Lionel, BoRS DE Ganys, Cousin of Launcelot, Galahault, the Haut Prince, Ladinas de La Rouse, Kaye, Lord Seneschal of the Palace, ' Leodegrance, King of Cameliard. Peredure, his Son, a Poet. PUBLIUS, Ambassadour from Rome. Pryderi, a Leech. Dagonet, a Jester. Gawaine, a lad, son of Morgause. Borre, a child, illegitimate son of Arthur. Camalduna, Queen of Cameliard. Guenevere, her Daughter, afterward Queen of Britain. Morgause, Arthur's sister, Queen of Orkney. LlONORS, mother of Borre. Knights, Ladies, Ambassadours, Heralds, Pages, Watch- men, Attendants, etc. Scene. — Britain. Time. — May and June. THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. ACT I. Scene I. — In the edge of a wood a cavalcade has dismounted and the horses are tethered among the trees. In the background Merlin sits alone on a high place, looking at the towers of Ca- meliard, which are seen hazily in the distance. A group of Knights, seated in the foreground under a large oak tree, have just ended their re- past and the attendants bring them beakers of wine. In this group may be noted %\Vl Lionel, Sir Ector De Maris, Sir Bors De Ganys, and Sir Galahault. King Arthur a7id Sir Launcelot walk apart in private talk. Ector. Thou hast not loved, Sir Bors. Lionel. But / love, brother — As fair a maid as e'er wore taffeta. 94 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. By the Round Table, lords, I think no knight A truer lover ! Yet hold I with Sir Bors, Friendship is nobler. Ector. Were thy lady here, Thou durst not say it. Lionel. Why, who tells truth to women ? They love us better for a soft deceit And feed on lies like sweetmeats. Ector. There are friends Who play the rogue as subtly. Such we call false. But false in love too often is a jest Or flaunts itself for virtue. Still my faith is That loyal love is the most goodly fruit That grows out of men's hearts. BoRS. But loyal friendship, A fruit let fall by angels out of heaven, Sacred ambrosia not to be profaned — A thing to die for ! Galahault. Ay, at need ; but love A thing to live for — this is bitterer Lionel. Call you life bitter ? Galahault. Is the rind so sweet ? I can conceive a man so weary of life THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. 95 That he would quaff mandragora to the drains As revellers drink wine. Do you conceive, His nearest friend beseeching, such a man Would forego his carouse ? But if his love Came to him saying " Live, for I bid thee live," Though life and love alike were bitterness, He would pour out the sweet death in the dust. BORS. Love seeks a guerdon ; friendship is as God, Who gives and asks no payment. Galahault. Tut, ye are boys. Ye deem of love as children play at arms And wit not what a slain man is. Heard ye Never of Arcite and of Palamon That were good knights of old and as true friends As e'er faced death together ? Yet one day. Seeing a fair lady in a garden close. They fell a-wrangling. Faith, they were as twins, Inseparate from the womb ; and yet swift love, In less space than a man might look and say " Lo there ! " hath sundered them. BoRS. Look where the King And Launcelot walk together. Think you that they Would fall out for a girl ? g6 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. Galahault. Strange things ere now Have happened and the memory of men Outlived them. Yonder, dreaming in the sun, Behold the towers of Cameliard ! Think _)/o« The King, for love of Launcelot, would yield The white enlacing arms of Guenevere, Who waits there for the splendor of his coming To make her Queen of Britain ? Lionel. Launcelot would, If he were Arthur and Arthur Launcelot. And yet I think that Arthur's love is thin And substanceless to that which Launcelot Bears the mysterious Lady of the Hills Whom none have ever seen. Galahault. No fickle lover Can prove the glory and the might of love. The King has loved — and more than twice, I think. Lionel. Ay, he has been a gay dog in his day. BORS. He is the sun. If there be spots in him, I will not look upon them. Lionel. Nay, cousin, God shield I speak ill of the King. No man This side of dotage loves him more than I. THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. 97 I spoke of trivial faults. What one of us, Unless it be yourself or Launcelot, Hath not the like to answer ? Even the tale The common tongue hath of the Queen of Ork- ney — How is it more ? They knew not of the bond That made their sin more than the heat of youth Might BORS. Hush ! it is half treason but to think What we give words to. Ector. Morgause, the Queen of Orkney ! A strange dark woman ! Galahault. But a beauteous one. [ The Knights rise at the approach of the King.] Arthur. We almost touch our journey's end, my lords. Expected joy is like a maid that nears With coy delay and timorous advance, Eluding our stretched hands. So have I thought To-day would never reach us ; yet it dawns. And ere the sun sets in the western sea. Your swords shall serve a Queen. Ector. Long live the Princess ! 7 98 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. Lionel. But not as princess long! Long live the Queen ! A beaker to the bride ! All. Long live the Queen ! {Enter a Lady, attended by a Dwarf. She throws herself at the King' s feet.'] Lady. If ever you inclined your ear to sorrow, Be pitiful and hear me ! Arthur. Pray you, rise. Lady. Nay, I will statue here until you grant My prayer. Arthur. You wrong yourself. What is your grief? Lady. Far back within the impenetrable hills The mighty Turquine dwells — of those fierce tribes Who yet acknowledge not our Saviour Christ But worship barbarous and obscure gods, — A wicked knave ! — a cruel, treacherous villain ! — One whose delight is chiefly to work wrong To all that call on Mary and her Son ! This unbelieving dog in his foul lair With momentary tortures racks the bones Of my true lover. Me, as well, he seized THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. 99 And set his love on me — if that be love Which such a beast so names — and swore an oath To bind us each, if I received him not, And make my living lord the pillow to His savage purpose. But I, by God's help. Beguiled him and escaped ; and with this weak But faithful servitor, through lidless nights And days that burned like fever in my brain. Lurked in the caverns of the hills and made The wild goats my companions. — Now, for thine oath's sake And in the name of all fair ladies wronged, O King, I crye you, do me right. Arthur. Now by My sword Excalibur, it were great shame Forever to all knighthood if thy plight Went unredressed. But I have that in hand To-day which more imports me than the wrongs Of all the world. To-day I take a wife . It were a great dishonor if the feast Were furnished and the bridegroom came not. Therefore Set on with us to Cameliard. To-morrow lOO THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. We will set forth with all our chivalry To hawk at this foul quarry. Lady. Oh, my lord, Think how each lapsing moment the quick groans Of my chained lover clamor for release. Wilt thou be like that recreant who said, " I have a wife and therefore cannot come," When the Lord of Heaven bade him ? Nay then, I see You are even as other men, whom I had thought To be almost divine. I know I come Unseasonably. Grief hath, my lord, a license To overpass the bounds of courtesy. — Oh, is there none in all this chivalry To piece his prayers to mine ? Launcelot. My lord the King, 1 claim this quest. Go you to Cameliard And have no care at heart. I, with three others. Will seek and slay this Turquine, and set free His mangled captives. Lady. Thou and but three else ? Launcelot. It is sufficient. Lady. Alas, you do not know The peril of the enterprise ! THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. lOI Arthur. Fear not. It is Sir Launcelot of the Lake. He wonts not To fail of his pledged word. — My Launcelot, I had wished that you should be on my right hand ; But since it may not be — Our Lady speed you ! Launcelot. Amen. Fair joy be to your bridal, Arthur ! Farewell ! — Now who's with me ? BORS. L Lionel. I. Ector. And I. Lady. You are brave men. Come victory or defeat, I am bound to you forever. Launcelot. Nay, we do No more but our mere duties. Lead us on. I know the mountain paths of old. Armor And steeds would cumber us. We'll go afoot, Armed no more heavily than now we stand. Farewell, my liege ! And farewell, gentlemen ! We'll drink your healths ere long in Camelot. {Exeunt Launcelot, Bors, Ector, Lio- nel, the Lady, and the DWARF.] I02 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. Arthur. Ah, Galahault, with fifty men like that, I would shape this old world like a putty-ball. — Set on to Cameliard. [Enter a Messenger.] Messenger. My lord the King ! King Mark of Cornwall has renounced his fealty And with a mighty army is encamped Upon your borders. Sir Godmar, the Lord Marshal, Has ta'en the field against him, but beseeches You haste to his relief. Arthur. Now, by my crown, I will not go. The heavens conspire to block My progress to the towers that hold my bride. But stood the Archangel Michael in the way. This marriage should not wait. We will go on ; To-morrow morn is time enough for Mark. Sir Galahault, our Queen shall be your charge Until these wars are over. Come, set on ! \WhUe the cavalcade is preparing to move the scene closes^ THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. IO3 Scene II. — A rocky pass in the mountains. Enter Launcelot, Bors, Lionel, Ector, the Lady, and the Dwarf. Launcelot. Let me rest here a moment. Nay, go on ; I shall o'ertake you eie you gain the crest. Cousin, a word with you. \Exeunt all but "Slop's, and LAUNCELOT.] What blessed chance Has led me hither ? Bors. Cousin, you called me back. Launcelot. Why, but to have you with me, Bors. This place Is like a sudden scene of other days That starts up in the middle of a dream Midmost a meaningless phantasmagory. BORS. Have you been here ere now ? Launcelot. Ay, and that time Would stand erect and vivid in my brain Though all the other puppets of the past Reeled into smoke. This is the very spot. r04 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. I lay here, cousin, even here where this gaunt bram- ble Still tugs a meagre life out of the cleft Where it is rooted, — faint almost to death ; For I had struggled through these cruel hills Three days without a crust, and my head swam And my legs wavered under me and would not Bear me upright. Down these precipitous crags And o'er these dizzy ledges I could pass No more than I could leap across yon gulf. And I lay down and thought of death, as of A gulf into whose blackness one might leap And fall forever. A long time lay I so, Too weak to struggle with impending doom. And death seemed like to yawn and swallow me. BORS. And yet you are not dead. How 'scaped you, then? Launcelot. God sent a blessed angel to my aid. There on the peak beyond the gulf I saw her. Standing against the sky, with garments blown. The mistress of the winds ! An angel, said I ? THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. 105 God was more kind, he sent a woman to me. BORS. The Lady of the Hills ! Launcelot. Ay, so I call her, For other name I know not. BORS. The unknown lady, Whom you have made more famous than a queen 1 Here saw you her the first time ? Launcelot. And the last time. She was attended by a motley Fool, Who stretched his hand and pointed where I lay. She saw me and in pity of my case Sent Master Dagonet^so the Fool was called But he nowise would tell the lady's name — To help me down the pass. But she went on Alone across the summits of the hills Like some grand free Diana of the North And passed out of my sight, as daylight fades Out of the western sky. But I no more Was faint, and went my way, considering. BoRS. But could you nowise find out who she was? Launcelot. Nowise, for Merlin met me there- upon, I06 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. And brought me suddenly to Camelot, Where I was knighted. I had fain delayed But boy-like shamed to say wherefore my heart Hung back toward the hills. And so I passed Away from her and never saw her more. BORS. Even here it was you saw her ? Launcelot. Ay, even here. BORS. Why, then, should you not meet her here again ? Launcelot. The hope of that is as the morning- star, The messenger of dawn. And in good sooth I have a feeling in my heart that soon My long and lightless service shall have end And I shall serve her seeing. But our friends Await us. I shall serve my lady better With noble actions than with idle dreams. {Exeunt.^ Scene III. — Cameliard. The Palace of Leode- grance. A chamber hung with rich embroider- ies. At the centre a wide entrance with heavy curtains, which conceal a corridor. At the THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. lO/ upper right corner a •window opening on a bal- cony which overlooks the sea. GUENEVERE is seated before this window with a harp. GUENEVERE. \Sings\. The flower-born Blodueda, Great joy of love was hers ; Now lonely is the life she leads Among the moonlit firs. The white enchantress, Arianrod, The daughter of King Don, Hath hidden in a secret place And borne a goodly son. But he shall have nor name nor arms Wherewith to get him fame, Unless his mother's heart relent And give him arms and name. Twice hath she cursed him from her heart — Twice and yet once again, That he shall never take a wife Of all the seed of men. I08 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. Yet all unwitting she gave him arms. When the foe was in the land ; And all unwitting a goodly name, Llew of the Steady Hand. And Gwydion, the son of Don, Hath wrought with potent charms A mystery of maidenhood To lie within his arms. He took the blossoms of the oak And the blossoms of the broom And the blossoms of the meadow-sweet And fashioned her therefrom. Of all the maidens on the earth She was by far most fair, And the memory of the meadow-sweet Was odors in her hair. But she hath given her heart away To the stout lord of Penllyn, And he is slain by Cynvael's banks, Betrayed by all his kin. THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. 109 A sadder doom is hers to dree ; Death ends not her constraint : In semblance of a mournful owl, She pours her nightly plaint. The motherless Blodueda Shall never find release ; From eve till morn she makes her moan Among the moonlit trees. \Wkile GuENEVERE sings, Morgause has entered, unperceived^ Morgause. It is a sad song for a bride to sing, Guenevere. I did not know that anyone was near. Morgause. I did not mean to be an eaves- dropper, But as I entered I was charmed to silence And could not break in on so sweet a sound Before the singer ceased. Guenevere. I thank you madam ; I am not in the mood for compliments to-day. Morgause. Not to-day of all days in the year, no THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. In which the sun shines on you as a bride ? Fair weather weddings make fair weather lives. GuENEVERE. I care not much for omens. MORGAUSE. Come, sweetheart, There is a time to mask and to unmask, And on a wedding morn the Ught of joy Should frolic on the face as in the heart. The courtiers will set up a silly tale That this alliance is against your will. GUENEVERE. But I do nothing, save of my free will ; Let the vain gossips babble as they please. MORGAUSE. I have just come from the Great Hall. You'll have A royal ritual, sweetheart, — such a retinue Of dames and damosels, barons and knights. As Csesar's self could hardly muster in Imperial Rome. GuENEVERE. Is Peredure without ? MORGAUSE. Gods, hear this woman ! I tell her of her wedding ; She answers me — " Is Peredure without? " Ha, ha, ha, ha ! Now what would Arthur say To find himself so hindward in your thoughts ? THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. Ill GUENEVERE. Peredure is not like my other brothers, Wolf-eyed, thick-bearded, fond of dealing blows. There's something of the woman in his nature That makes his manliness a finer thing. He has the courage of a gentle heart MORGAUSE. And he writes the prettiest rhymes that ever were About some marvellous woman that he loves But whom he dare not woo. Poor boy, when he Is older, he will find the woman lives not Too virtuous to be flattered by a conquest. I left him in the throng about the throne With such a woful look upon his face, As if the rhymes of his last virelay Were all at loggerheads. GUENEVERE. Does he not go With us to Camelot ? MoRGAUSE. 'T is so determined. I marvel that Sir Launcelot is not here. A month ago, ere I left Camelot To seek a friend where I must find a sister, It was supposed that Launcelot would be 112 THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. The chief of Arthur's groomsmen. Arthur and he Are like two almonds in a single shell That silly maids make matron wishes on. GUENEVERE. I had a strange dream yesternight. Methought An unknown knight stood by my bed, and as I lay spell-bound in dim bewilderment, Cried " I am Launcelot ! " — and I awoke. MORGAUSE. He came, then, in a dream. I thought he would not Be so discourteous as to keep away Entirely. GUENEVERE. Why talk ye all of Launcelot ? His fame spreads westward over Wales like dawn. MoRGAUSE. He has the reputation of all virtue. GUENEVERE. And does his reputation top him- self? MoRGAUSE. Sometimes a bonfire imitates the dawn. GUENEVERE. Sometimes, too, dawn is taken for a bonfire ; — I care not. Dawn or bonfire, it is nothing To me. THE MARRIAGE OF GUENEVERE. II3 MORGAUSE. Nor to me neither, but I chafe To hear the gabble that they make about him. Why, child, the world is gone mad at his heels ! They tell of valor that despises odds. And courtesy that throws prudence to the drains — Such tales they tell of him ! And as for women, There is not maid nor wife in Camelot Whose heart is not a spaniel at his feet. And yet they say he takes no fruit of it But is as spotless as Saint Dorothy — With such a tittle-tattle of his purity ! — Bah, when the King and he are in one cry ! GUENEVERE \rises\. What