5559 3 P6 py 1 cnnysons Lancelot and Elaine POUND AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPPLY COMPANY TENiNYSON'S Lancelot and Elaine EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY LOUISE POUND, PH.D. ADJUNCT PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA L,iNCOLN, Nebraska American School Supply Company 1905 [wo Qopies de«^ttvtxi OCT m 1^05 Copyright 1905 BY L,ouiSE Pound PREFACE The present edition of Lancelot and Elaine represents an endeavor to furnish a brief yet critical edition which will con- tain enough material to enable the student to understand ade- quately this special poem, its place in Arthurian literature, and in the completed cycle of the Idylls. Some acquaintance with the historical and literary development of the Arthurian sto- ries and with the genesis of the Idylls, though deserving, it need not be said, subordinate place to the study of the Idyll itself, seems necessary, at least to fairly mature students, if Tennyson's poem is rightly to be appreciated and understood. New features of the edition are an appendix containing illus- trative extracts from the Morfe Darthur on which the Idyll is chiefly based, surely as indispensable as the illustrations from Holinshed in the usual school editions of Macbeth, and the inclusion in the notes, where there seemed significance in the alteration, of earlier readings of amended passages, so often instructive as well as interesting if inquiry be made into the reason for the change. The notes are illustrative and explanatory as well as textual, and contain, throughout, fre- quent references to the other Idylls, from which, when studied separately, Lancelot and Elaine should not be disassociated. This Idyll, like the Idylls in general, has by this time been edited very often and very well; yet it is believed that some new or independent matter has been contributed, both in the introduction and in the notes. The text of the poem is, without alteration save for the Americanization of certain spellings, that of the Globe edition of Tennyson's works, incorporating the poet's latest revisions, and reproducing the text as he probably wished it to be transmitted. 11 PREFACE Thanks are due to my colleague, Professor F. A. Stuff of the University of Nebraska, for reading the manuscript and for valuable suggestions. Louise Pound. Lincoln, 1905. CONTENTS Introduction PAGE L The Arthurian Stories . V II. The Idylls of the King xiii Lancelot and Elaine .... 1 Notes 44 Appendix . 70 INTRODUCTION I. THE ARTHURIAN STORIES Plac3 in Mediaeval Romance. — The Artlmrian stories have been for centuries a fountain-head for European romance. The mediaeval stories of court or chivalric life fall into four main groups, according to the source of their material: (1) those dealing with the epic material of classical antiquity, as the stories of Alexander, or of Troy; (2) the Charlemagne group, to which belongs the So]ig of Roland; (3) those deal- ing with Byzantine materials, as Flore and Blancheiioye, or Aucassin and Nicolcttc; (4) those dealing with British, or Breton, materials, or the Arthurian group. These romances were French in construction, but European in propagation and development. Representatives are found in the literatures of Germany, England, Italy, Holland, Spain, Portugal, and Norway. Among them the ideal of knightly chivalry and courtly society found best representation in the Arthurian romances, which strike both the secular note of the classical and Byzantine romances, and ,the ecclesiastical note of the Charlemagne group, and, borrowing largely from all three, became prolific and widely popular. They have found per- haps their highest development and most sympathetic treat- ment in the Idylls of Tennyson. Relation to Celtic Sources.— The nucleus of the Arthurian stories is undoubtedly Celtic. The matter and the environ- ment purport to be Celtic, and many of the place and proper names point to a Celtic source ; but many difficult problems, perhaps never to be settled satisfactorily, are bound up with the history of the origin of the stories and their spread. An especially perplexed question is, from what source did the Vi INTRODUCTION French romancers, who seem to have been the first to give Arthurian story literary treatment, derive their Celtic mate- rial? The French were in contact not only with the insular Celts in Britain, the Welsh or Cymry, but with those in Brit- tany (xA.rmorica) on the continent, descendants of the British who fled across the channel in the fifth and sixth centuries before the invading Saxons. Thus two possibilities arise. In the one, the material of the Breton romances (the matiere de Brctagne) is insular British, and the Anglo-Normans the medium of propagation. In the other, the material is Breton or Armoric, and from Brittany reached the continental French, who became the real creators of the romances, and gave them literary impetus and currency. For many years the trend of opinion favored the first hypothesis. Its foremost adherent, M. Gaston Paris,^ believes that the Norman conquest reawakened Celtic national feeling, kindling Welsh patriotic legend inherited from the fifth and sixth centuries, the heroic age of the insular British, to new life. Then, through the instrumentality of. the Anglo-Nor- mans, Celtic themes crossed the channel to France. Opposed to this is a more recent view, favoring an Armorican origin, of which the pioneer advocates are Professors W. Foerster'* and H. Zimmer.^ It is the view of this school that the Ar- thurian legend remained among the Welsh, but seems not to have been much developed by them. It was built up by the Bretons, among whom it flourished after their exodus from Britain, and through whom it reached their French neighbors. Possibly it became known in England through the Breton auxiliaries of the Normans. In any case, the indications of Celtic influence on the earliest Arthurian romances point, they maintain, not to Great Britain but to Brittany. It should be noted also, as regards Celtic origin, that some of the iHistoirc liitcraire de Ja France, etc. sintrod. to Ercc und Enide, 1890, etc. 3Chiefly in various articles and reviews. INTRODUCTION VU legends of the Arthurian cycle, in their genesis and transmis- sion, may be Gaelic (Irish) rather than Cymric (Welsh)/ Arthurian Story in the Romantic Chronicles.— The kernel of the Arthurian legends is perhaps historical, but the meager testimon}^ of the older chroniclers makes it difficult to arrive at definite conclusions. It seems probable that the Arthurian legends exhibit the gradual elevation of a person originally of minor importance to a national hero, as in the legend of Roland, perhaps also of Beowulf and of Siegfried. The Brit- ish historian, Gil das, of the sixth century, mentions a battle at Mount Badon between Britons and Teutons, but is silent about Arthur, although this is traditionally his greatest battle. The same silence is preserved by Bede, in the eighth century. These were the chroniclers writing nearest the time when Ar- thur m.ust have lived. He is first named in an anonymous Historia Britonuin of the tenth century, in its original form dating perhaps from the last years of the eighth century, the supposed author of which was Nennius. By this time the glamour of great prowess and sanctity is already about him, but it is noteworthy that Nennius refers to him as a military leader {dux hcllonim) not as king {tunc Arthur pugnavit contra illos [Saxones] in illis dicbus . . .scd ipse dux erat hcllonim). Arthur had twelve victories over the heathen. In the last he slew single-handed by Mons Badonis nine hun- dred and sixty enemies (cf. note on 1.302). The Annalcs Cambriac of the middle of the tenth century contain two brief testimonies from Welsh tradition. The next link is the chronicle of William of Malmesbury (1125). By Geoffrey of Monmouth (1135), Historia Reguni Britanniae, the legend is in full bloom. The following is an abridgment of his version : Arthur is the son of Uther Penrlragon and Igerne of Cornwall, whom Uther takes as queen after the death of her husband, Duke ij. L. Weston, Legend of Sir Gawain^ 1897, etc. Viii INTRODUCTION Gorlois. He becomes king at fifteen, and, after subduing the Saxons, adds to his empire, in brilliant foreign conquest, Ireland, Gothland, the Orkneys, Norway, Daeia, Aquitaine, and Gaul. Dur- ing a solemn assembly at Caerleon-upon-Usk, messengers arrive from Lucius Tiberius, general of the Romans, demanding arrears of tribute. War is agreed on, and Arthur commits his kingdom and his queen, Guanhumara, to his nephew Modred. In the con- test between the Romans and the Britons, Arthur's nephew, Wal- gan, especially distinguishes himself. The Romans flee or sur- render. Meanwhile the news comes that Modred has usurped the throne and been wedded to Guanhumara. Arthur returns and de- feats Modred, and Guanhumara flees to a cloister in Caerleon. In a flnal encounter with Modred, the latter is killed, and Arthur, wounded, transfers his kingdom to his nephew Constantine, and is carried to the island of Avalon to be healed. Geoffrey says that Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford, brought him a very old book in the British language {libriim hritannici sermonis) , and this he translated into Latin as the basis of his chronicle. This passage, which has been read in many ways, probably means that he had a Breton book from Brit- tany, and the contents, which often exhibit a character foreign to Welsh tradition, seem to bear out this assumption. Name- forms like Modred and Walgain suggest not the Welsh but Bretonized forms ; and Welsh sources are unfamiliar with the legend of Avalon. Geoffrey's book is, however, less a trans- lation than a mosaic from various sources. His authenticity was not accepted even in his own day ; nevertheless his chron- icle had great popularity. Four translations were made into French, of which the most important was by the Norman Wace (1155). These translations may have helped to bring the Arthurian stories to the attention of French poets, though doubtless familiar to them already. Wace added details concerning" Arthur, and is the first to mention {Brut 9996) the Round Table, possibly an echo of the peerage of Charlemagne, or possibly of Celtic origin, which he drew from Bretonic French sources, and of which Geoffrey knew nothing: INTRODUCTION IX fist Artus la roonde table, dont Breton dieut mainte fable. Arthur made the Round Table, of which Bretons tell many tales. Wace was translated into English by Layamon at the end of the twelfth century, and the legends further increased by the prophecy of Arthur's return, and additions concerning his wars and the Round Table. It is in Layamon's poem that the glamour of magic and fairy enchantment is added, especially to the story of Arthur's coming and passing, which lends Arthurian legend much of its charm. Arthurian 5tory in French Romance. —Meanwhile the Arthurian stories as current among the con f curs and fahlcuvs of Brittany were much used in French prose romances of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Among the earliest repre- sentatives are the metrical romances of Crestien de Troyes, his Ercc deserving the name of the first Arthurian poem. The legends seem to owe much to Crestien's making over. He stamped upon his Breton materials the ideals of high French society in the twelfth century, and gave them their chivalric setting — knight errantry, amour courtois, and bril- liant feasts and tournaments. He is thought by many to have added the episode of Lancelot and Guinevere. He made use of Celtic framework, borrowing rather than inventing his materials ; otherwise his romances have probably little to do with Celtic legend or antiquity. They enshrine rather the ideals and spirit of Crestien himself and his contemporaries, and of French court poetry of the period. With him, or his immediate predecessors or inspirers, begins, perhaps, the con- ception of Arthurian chivalry, of courtesy, loyalty, and ro- mantic love and honor. Development of the Tristan and the Qrail Cycles. — Two important cycles of Arthurian story early developed alongside of the Merlin (Arthur) and the Lancelot cycles, X INTRODUCTION the legends of Tristan and of the Grail. Of these the former is perhaps genuinely British, brought from England to France, and, though later so closely allied, had originally nothing to do with Arthurian story. It may have been on the model of the story of Tristan and Isolt that the episode of Lancelot and Guinevere, which first appears with Crestien, was built up, unless, for the latter episode, a Celtic origin be assumed. The Grail legend has a special and problematic history, and, like the Tristan legend, was not originally connected with Arthurian stor5^ After the Perceval of Crestien de Troyes, left incomplete and continued by other hands, the religious and mystic element exhibited in this legend made rapid prog- ress. It is very strong in the prose version written toward the end of the twelfth century. La Qucste del Saint Grail, ascribed, though with no great certainty, to the Anglo-Nor- man, Gautier Map. Here Perceval is relegated to second place as purest knight and chosen seeker of the Grail, being supplanted in first place by Galahad. On the themes of these various cycles of Arthurian romance, a vast, monotonous, and overlapping literature was elaborated, finally combining all the niolifs of mediaeval story. In the French verse romances, Arthur himself is generally repre- sented as inactive; his court is the rendezvous from which knights go in quest of adventure. In the prose romances he is pictured somewhat differently, as the national hero. His wars with the Saxons are fully treated, and the final catas- trophe depicted, neither of which is touched upon in the verse romances. With the progress of the religious element in the Grail legend, to which a tendency to unite the other cycles manifested itself, the story of the Hos regum of the chroni- clers developed into a tragedy in which Arthur, no longer the blameless king, is responsible for his own ruin. Mean- while accretions had been made to the legends from various sources, classical antiquity, oriental tales, scriptural narra- INTRODUCTION XI lives, popular history, and popular legend, transforming their character, and swelling them to vast and varied proportions. The **Morte Darthur" of Malory. — By the middle of th^ thirteenth century, the various cycles of Arthurian adventure had accumulated until need was felt of a compendium or abridgment. The first attempt was made, about 1.270, in French, by the Italian, Rusticien; another in German, some- what later, by Ulrich FiArtrer. The most important and com- plete compilation was made in England (1469-70), by Sir Thomas Malory (Malorye, or Maleore), printed in 14S5 by Caxton. An extensive Arthurian literature from French sources existed in English before Malory, but his work, not rightly named the Morte Darthiir, since it narrates much more than Arthur's death, was destined to become a fountain-head. He sought to bring the fortuitous accretion of his originals, some of which are preserved and some lost, into a sort of co- herence. The work was accomplished not without diffaseness and involved arrangement, and contains many repetitions and inconsistencies. It leaves some tales incomplete, like that of Lancelot, and omits others, like that of Free; but in the main Malory had remarkable success. He struck the right balance between the secular and the spiritual, and told the story of Arthur, from his birth to the tragic culmination lending the book its name, with a certain fateful consistency that en- thralled the popular imagination, and made his work the clas- sical version of Arthurian story. Moreover, his style, though he follows his originals closely, copying their idioms, and often wrongly translating, is characteristically quaint and simple, and, possessing strong charm, has had no little in- fluence upon English prose. Arthurian Story in Later Literature.— After Malory, the Arthurian legends retained strong hold, and the story of their progress forms a special chapter in the history of English literature. The greatest names before the modern period. Xll INTRODUCTION Chancer, Shakespeare, and Milton, left motives from this source untouched, but show familiarity by occasional allu- sions. In 1587, the Misfortunes of Arthur, written by Thomas Hughes, almost the first English tragedy, had for its chief characters, Arthur, Modred, and Guenevera. Spenser gives Arthur prominent place in his allegory of the Faerie Queene, and makes many references to Celtic tradition. When Milton was a 3^outh, he intended, about 1638-39, to make Arthur the hero of a great national epic, but gave up the design because unable to convince himself that the existence of the British king was not merely mythical. Sir Richard Blackmore, a physician, published two long dull epics in 1695 and 1697, entitled Prince Arthur and King Arthur. Dryden, in this same period, composed a farcical allegorical opera on the story of Arthur, and projected an epic on either Arthur or Edward III., which he did not execute. Fielding in 1730 wrote a burlesque of Round Table stories, and they remained in some disrepute until Percy's Rcliqucs in 1765, containing several ballads relating to King Arthur, which brought about a revival of popular interest. At the beginning of the nine- teenth century. Sir Walter Scott edited a version of the story of Sir Tristram, and wrote his Bridal of Triermain from Arthurian inspiration. In 1849 Bulwer-Lytton composed an ambitious but unsuccessful epic. King Arthur, in six-line stanzas. Among minor Arthurian poems of the century may be mentioned the Morte Arthur by R. Heber, 1841, the Quest of the Sangraal by R. S. Hawker, 1863, the Fareivell of Ganore by G. A. Simcox, 1869, and Arthur's Knighting and the Eve of Morte Arthur by S. Evans, 1875. Wordsworth refers to Arthurian story in the Egyptian Maid and in various minor allusions. Lastly are to be named the Tristan and Iseult of Matthew Arnold, 1852, the Defence of Guenevere by William Morris, 1858, and the Tristram of Lyoncsse, 1882, and the Tale of Balen, 1896, by Swinburne. In America, INTRODUCTION Xlll Richard Hovey composed several notable poems on Arthurian themes. Outside of England the influence of the legends has been equally strong. In Italy, Dante, Ariosto, and Petrarch made frequent use of Arthurian material. In old German literature, in which the developm.ent of the legends was as interesting as for old French literature, the Pardfal of Wolfram von Eschenbach, the Tristan of Gottfried von Strassburg, and the Izvein of Hartmann von Aue, won deserved and widespread popularity. The story of Tristram was touched upon also by Hans Sachs. German Arthurian poets of the modern period are Wieland (1739-1813), K. Immermann, F. Roeber, L. Schneegans, and W. Elertz. The greatest German works of Arthurian inspiration are the operas of Richard Wagner, Par.zifal, Tristan und Isolde, and Lohengrin. In France, Ronsard and La Fontaine show many traces of familiarity with Round Table legends, and in the last century poems on Arthurian themes were written by Edgar Quinet. II. THE IDYLLS OF THE KING Composition of the Idylls.— Tennyson's first venture in Arthurian legend was the lyric, The Lady of Shalott, a fore- shadowing of the story of Elaine, published in 1832, in his volume entitled Poems. His two-volume edition, published in 1842, contained two more Arthurian lyrics. Sir Galahad and the fragment Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere. This same volume contained, inclosed in a poetical setting called The Epic, the Morte d'Arthur, afterwards incorporated in The Passing of Arthur. In 1857 six "trial copies" of Enid and Niniue: the True and the False were published, the lat- ter being the original of the later Vivien. In 1859, under the title The True and the False: Four Idylls of the King were fjublished Enid, Vivien, Elaine, and Guinevere, the names of all but the last being subsequently modified. Vivien became XIV INTRODUCTION Merlin and Vivien, and Elaine became Lancelot and Elaine. Enid was divided in 1888 into two parts, and given the ijames, The Marriage of Geraint, and Geraint and Enid. In a new edition of the Idylls in 1862, the Dedication to the Prince was added. In 1869, dated 1870, was published The Holy Grail and Other Poems, containing, beside The Holy Grail, the Idylls The Coming of Arthur, Pelleas and Ettarre, and The Passing of Arthur, enlarged from the Morte d' Arthur of 1842. In 1872 appeared The Last Tournament, first printed in the Contemporary Reviezv for December, 1871, and Gareth and Lynette. The Epilogue of the Idylls, To the Queen, was printed in 1873. Lines 9-28 were added to The Passing of Arthur in an edition of this year. The last Idyll, Balin and Balan, was included in Tiresias and Other Poems in 1885. With the division of Enid in 1888, the number of the Idylls was brought up to twelve. Tennyson wrote one other poem under Arthurian inspiration, the lyric Merlin and the Gleam, printed in 1889. The Idylls of the King, as published in com.pleted form, fall into the following order: Dedication (1862), The Coming of Arthur (1869), Gareth and Lynette (1872), The Marriage of Geraint (1859), Geraint and Enid (1859), Balin and Balan (1885), Merlin and Vivien (1857), Lancelot and Elaine (1859), The Holy Grail (1869), Pelleas and Ettarre (1869), The Last Tournament (1871), Guinevere (1859), The Passing of Arthur (Morte d' Arthur, 1842) (1869), To the Queen (1873). Thus the composition of the Idylls covered the forty-three years from 1842 to 1885, and Tennyson's poetic interest in the Arthurian legends the fifty-seven years from 1832 to 1889. He approached his subject first with lyrics, then with an ep- ical fragment belonging at the end of his series. He con- tinued it with four pictures of women, belonging here and there in the completed structure, followed ten years later by INTRODUCTION XV the Idyll belonging at the beginning, and by three others. Two years later came two more Idylls, and thirteen years later came the last, belonging neither at the beginning nor at the end of the sequence, but in the middle. It seems so won- derful as to be scarcely credible that a series of poems show- ing when completed organic unity should have been so composed. Development oT Unity of Design.— Tennyson seems early to have contemplated the Arthurian legends as poetic mate- rial. "At twenty-four I meant to write an epic or drama of King Arthur; and I thought that I should take twenty years about the work."^ From his youth he had written out in prose various histories of Arthur.^ Mention is made in a con- versation in the poetical setting of the Morte d' Arthur (1842) of an epic on Arthur, "some twelve books," of which the Morte d' Arthur is the eleventh; but there may have been nothing behind this reference. Hallam Tennyson says that his father "carried a more or less perfected scheme in his head for over thirty years."^ His first work seems, however, without coherent design. He produced his poems piecemeal, without apparent thought of continuing with the same theme, or of reaching ultimate unity. The four Idylls of 1859 are simply studies of "the true and the false," allegory being yet undeveloped or in the background. In 1862 he wrote of them to the Duke of Argyll: "As to joining these [the Idylls] with the 'Morte d' Arthur' there are two objections, — one that I could scarcely light upon a finer close than that ghostlike passing away of the King, and the other that the 'Morte' is older in style. I have thought about it and arranged the intervening Idylls, but I dare not set to work for fear of failure and time lost." {Memoir, I, 482.) Clearly at this date the Idylls were not intended as parts of a whole, whatever Tennyson had vaguely in mind to at- mcmoir, II, 89-90. ^Ih., U, 121. ^Ih., II, 125. XVI INTRODUCTION tempt in future. "After the first instalment of 'Enid/ 'Vivien/ 'Elaine,' and 'Guinevere/ in spite of the public applause, he did not rush headlong into the other Idylls. For one thing he did not consider that the time was ripe. In addition to this he did not find himself in the proper mood to write them ... he was not sure he could keep up to the same high level throughout the remaining Idylls."^ Sometime in the next decade, before the publication of the Holy Grail volume in 1869, the plan of the completed series and of the introduction of allegory seems to have formed itself defi- nitely. In 1868 he wrote to Mr. Palgrave : "The 'Grair is not likely to be published for a year or two. ... I shall write three or four more of the Idylls, and link them together as well as I may." {Memoir, II, 02.) With the Coming of Arthur, in this volume, the allegory of Sense at war with Soul was fully introduced, and reigned throughout the remaining Idylls. After this year, Tennyson's plan and the allegorical drift of his poems were recognized on all sides. The gradual growth in design of the Idylls necessitated many modifications as new poems were written. Attention is called to significant changes in Lancelot and Elaine in notes on various passages. Most of these changes were made in the 1873 or 1874 editions. Similar alterations are found in the other Idylls. One passage in the Morie d'Arthur (11.220- 24) written before Tennyson had yet fully sketched out the character of Arthur, was allowed to remain when the poem was remodeled into The Passing of Arthur (11.389-93) al- though not in harmony with passages elsewhere, portraying the king not as a contestant for victory in tournaments but as a champion. (So, for example, in Lancelot and Elaine, 11.310-11.) It was in accordance with this tendency toward iMemoir, II, 125. INTRODUCTION XVll unity of design that the names of the 1859 Idylls, Enid, Vivien, and Elaine were changed to Geraint mid Enid, Merlin and Vivien, and Lancelot and Elaine, making them less conspicu- ously studies of women and more closely related to the Ar- thurian legends. Sources and Treatment. — "On Malory, and later on Lady Charlotte Guest's translation [from the Welsh] of the Mabinogion, and on his own imagination, my father said that he chiefly founded his epic; he has made the old legends his own, restored the idealism, and infused into them a spirit of modern thought and an ethical significance, setting his char- acters in a rich and varied landscape ; as indeed otherwise these archaic stories would not have appealed to the modern world at large."" Tennyson was fond of Malory's narratives from boyhood. Hallam Tennyson has still in his possession, he says, the copy of the Morte d' Arthur which his father loaned to Leigh Hunt, "a small book for the pocket, pub- lished in 1816, by Walker and Edwards, and much used by my father."* Tennyson's names and stories, the framework of the Idylls, come from Malory. From the Mabinogion he took the story of Geraint and Enid. Tennyson drew also on several sources which his son does not mention. From Geof- frey of Monmouth come the names Modred, Igerne, Gorlois, and others, and stray touches in the handling. From Nennius he borrowed the account of Arthur's twelve battles (cf. note on 1.2S4). He also undoubtedly used Ellis' Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances (London 1805, 2d ed. 1849). From Ellis he probably derived a few passages like the interview between Lancelot and Guinevere, and the story of Lancelot's childhood. (Cf. notes on 11.605, 840, 1155, 1172, 1197, 1393.) Tennyson has reconstructed, abridged, and altered Malory's stories. He keeps their archaic color and their humanity, but ^Memoir, II, 121. Ih., I, 156. 2 XViii INTRODUCTION modernizes and sophisticates, changing the order and pro- portion of parts and the significance. He has been criticised for this/ especially for transforming Arthur. Tennyson's changes in Arthur were, however, less arbitrary than his changes in other characters. It is Tristram who is most altered in the Idylls. The story of Tristram and Isolt, which in the legends has equal prominence with that of Lancelot and Guinevere, is subordinated, and its nature modified. The character of Tristram is lowered. On the other hand Lance- lot is elevated, till his figure almost overshadows the king's. Other changes are in the episode of Merlin and Nimue, in the outcome of Pelleas and Ettarre (Ettarde in Malory), and in the episode, toward the close of their story, of Guinevere's condemnation and Lancelot's rescue. Moreover, the sequence of the stories is changed, the order in Malory being: The birth of Arthur, the episode of Balin and Balan, Merlin's fate, the episode of Pelleas and Ettarre, the stories of Gareth and Tristram, the quest of the Grail, the episode of Lancelot and Elaine, the revelation of Guinevere's transgression, Ar- thur's death. Use of Archaisms. — Tennyson's debt to Malory in his poetic vocabulary is made clear by a comparison of passages from Lancelot and Elaine with the parallel passages from the Morte Darthur. He makes frequent use of characteristic words from the latter, such as jousts, affiance, devoir, marvel, hurl, parted, 'departed,' allozv, worshipful, whole, 'well,' sore (the adverb), peradventure, etc., and of archaic verb forms like wot, wist, get, brake, etc., (cf. note on 1.50). Other archaic words and expressions found in this Idyll are yea, anon, an, 'if,' etc. Tennyson's liking for older English words and expressions is noted by his son : iCf. Swinburne, In his Miscellanies. INTRODUCTION XIX "If he differentiated his style from that of any other poet, he would remark on liis use of English in preference to words derived from French and Latin. He revived many fine old words which had fallen into disuse ; and I heard him regret that he had never employed the word yarely." (Memoir, II, 133.) The Name "Idylls." — Tennyson has been criticised forgiv- ing the name "Idylls" to his Arthurian poems. Idyll is from the Greek etSo?, elSvXXiov, a 'little picture.' In strict usage it means a short poem of pastoral or sylvan life, as the Idylls of Theocritus of the third century, B. C. In his volume of 1842 Tennyson gave the title English Idylls to poems like The Gardener's Daughter, Dora, /Dudley Court, etc., here appropriate enough since these deal v^ith idealized primitive or rural life, as the name Idylls suggests. The tone in the Idylls of the King is not idyllic, or pastoral, but heroic. Yet in a loose sense they may well be designated Idylls, since each constitutes a picture, distinct and finished, and since they blend the narrative with the descriptive. Idyll is now a recog- nized name for short poems of this cross species, half heroic and half descriptive. In 1842 the Morte d' Arthur was included in a framework called The Epic, thus suggesting an epical character for it; but Tennyson did not retain this title. The name Idylls of the King was fixed upon sometime between 1857 and 1859, the year of the appearance of the volume entitled The True and the False: Four Idylls of the King. In 1870, in the Holy Grail volume, Tennyson seems to have called the separate poems ''books," as well as poems or idylls. The title finally adopted was Idylls of the King: In Twelve Books. Tennyson never used the word "epic" in a title after 1842, recognizing that the poems had not sufficient unity of grasp, or sufficient narrative force to render them strictly epical. Tennyson's friend and critic, Edmund Lushington, proposed a new title as a solution of the difficulty, calling the Idylls of the King, Epylls of the King. "According to him they were little Epics XX INTRODUCTION (not Idylls) woven into an epical unity, but my father dis- liked the sound of the word 'Epylls.' "^ The more usual spelling of the word is 'idyl,' like 'sibyl,' 'beryl,' etc., from similar Greek originals. Tennyson uses 'idyl' in The Princess. In his Arthurian poems the word appears always with -//, a spelling now in very common use. The Idylls in Sequence.— The completed Idylls epitomize the whole of Malory's narrative, having necessarily discarded unserviceable episodes and details, but sketching in clear lines the growth and decline of the Round Table, Arthur's ideal order of spiritual chivalry. Tlic Coming of Arthur serves as the prologue of the series. It introduces the various rumors of his "coming" and "passing," "from the great deep to the great deep," and invests him with a mysterious spiritual in- terest: He is shown as the institutor of peace and justice and order. The bond between him and Lancelot is formed, and the Queen mentioned, though not yet with much definiteness. In Gareth and Lynette, the order is in its freshest and best period, and is drawing to itself youths like the strong and joyous Gareth. Arthur is at its head, his vows respected, his knights loyal, and no germ of infection yet visible. In The Marriage of Geraint, and its sequel Geraint and Enid, comes the first hint of distrust, and the foreshadowing of lack of knightly activity among Arthur's followers. The opening note of the fateful passion of Lancelot and the Queen is sounded; and already suspicion is appearing among the knights. In Baliii and Balan, the suspicions of the knights have become patent facts. The violence of his disillusion in those whom he had taken as his ideals, brings catastrophe to Balin, and to his brother, and loss of one of his strongest knights to Arthur. In Merlin and Vivien, the king suffers another loss. Lynette and Enid are succeeded by Vivien, who invades the court, spreading scandal, and sowing the seeds of corruption. ^Memoir, II, 130. INTRODUCTION XXI Her wiles compass the destruction of Merlin, and lose for Arthur his profoundest mind. The Idyll Lancelot and Elaine is in another key, and marks a turning point in the sequence. Lancelot finds her who seems fitted to be his mate, but it is too late, and she dies broken hearted. Already Gawain trifles Vv'ith Arthur's orders. There is a crisis between Lancelot and the Queen. Lancelot realizes his position, but he has cast in his lot, and there will be no lasting change. After The Holy Grail, the turn is swiftly downward. The first enthusiasm of the knights is dead. The court and its life of action, now no longer associated with the highest good, are abandoned in the fruitless quest of the Grail. The second agent in the break- ing up of the fellowship is asceticism and superstition in the guise of religion. Pellcas and Ettarre is the transition Idyll from The Holy Grail to The Last Tournament. Pelleas is a new made knight. He is inexperienced, like Gareth, but finds, unlike the latter, a corrupt society, and is wrecked by the shock of disillusion. The lowest point is touched in The Last Tournament. The infection has spread until Arthurian ideals can fall no further. The wrong doing of Lancelot and Guinevere is paralleled by Tristram and Isolt, but without their nobleness and high devotion. The greatest joust since that for the last diamond marks the death of innocence, and shows the laws of courtesy broken. In Guinevere, Lancelot and the Queen have begun their expiation, but the fatal con- sequences have been wrought out. The kingdom is in con- fusion and the Round Table shattered. Guinevere sees too late the real greatness of Arthur. The completing Idyll, or better, the epilogue of the series, is The Passing of Arthur. Here, his realm fallen, his work and his ideals broken down, the king goes to his last great battle, is given his death wound by Modred, and is borne away to the island-valley of Avilion. In the Idylls, Modred is the slayer of the king, but is not the real wrecker of the kingdom. XXll INTRODUCTION Anachronism in the Setting — The state of societ}^ pic- tured by Malory has, it is perhaps superfluous to point out, neither chronological nor historical truth. The historical Ar- thur, if he existed at all, existed in the sixth century. Mal- ory's picture, exaggerated and highly colored, is a sublimation of feudal chivalry. Instead of Celtic Britain of the sixth century, it suggests the age of the Crusades, when, if there were not real knights errant, adherents of coiirtoisie and the laws of chivalry, there were at least those who wished to be. The glitter of chivalry was yet strong in the days of Edward III., recorded in Froissart's chronicles, and, in Malory's own period, has not quite waned. In the Idylls, the setting is even more idealized and unreal than in the Morte Darthur. Ten- nyson preserves the exteriors of the age of knight errantry, but his hero, Arthur, moves in an ethical and social atmos- phere more nearly that of to-day than that of the sixth century or of the feudal era. His characters speak and think with the standards, moral attitudes, and subjective questionings of the nineteenth century. Tennyson modernized and sophisticated the material of the Morte Darthur in accordance with con- temporary ideals. The geography and the scenery of the Arthurian stories are hardly less impossible than the history. Theirs is an "un- British Britain," exhibiting the mystic cities, enchanted cas- tles and woods, waste lands and marvelous wild beasts, char- acteristic of Celtic legend and of Old French romance. Duration of the Action. — The time occupied by the action of the Idylls is said by Mr. Elsdale^ and others to extend over a single mystic year. Tennyson has struck the progressive notes of the seasons very clearly and with purpose — "My father made this further manuscript note on another phase of the unity of the poem. 'The Coming of Arthur is on a night of the New Year ; when he is wedded the world is white with May ; ^Studies in the Idylls (1878). INTRODUCTION XXIII on a summer night the vision of the Holy Grail appears ; and the Last Tournament is in the yellowing autumn-tide. Guinevere flees through the mists of autumn, and Arthur's death takes place at midnight in midwinter.' " {Memoir, II, 133). Beyond the sentences quoted Tennyson has left no word with regard to the duration of the Idylls. He may or may not have cared to have the time definitely fixed. Clearly he can not mean that the poems occupy a literal year, but in- tends rather to typify the seasons of human life, or in each case to adapt the mood of nature to his theme. Definite time- hints are given in Lancelot and Elaine, which is one of the "Summer Idylls." Reference is made to the heathen who seized Astolat ten j^ears before. The diamonds were found before Arthur became king (1.34) ; and his first year was probably occupied by the coronation, the wars with the heathen and the Romans, and the founding of the Round Table. If the jousts were instituted in the second year of his reign, the episode of Lancelot and Elaine, which itself covers many weeks (cf. Lancelot's illness), would then take place in the tenth. The remaining four Idylls of the series belong closely together. Professor Maccallum, in a discussion of the question,^ suggests that they may have occupied two years, thus allowing about twelve years for the whole cycle. Allegory in the Idylls. — Tennyson himself asks his read- ers to accept the allegorical bent of the Idylls in To the Queen, 11.36-42 : "... accept this old imperfect tale. New-old, and shadowing Sense at war with Soul Rather than that gray king, whose name, a ghost. Streams like a cloud, man-shaped, from mountain peak, And cleaves to cairn and cromlech still ; or him Of Geoffrey's book, or him of Malleor's. . . ." \Tennyson's Idylls and Arthurian Story, 423. XXIV INTRODUCTION To Mr. J. T. Knowles he said, "By King Arthur I always meant the soul and by the Round Table the passions and capacities of mcn."^ The allegorical meaning in the Idylls has been treated very often.^ The following, quoted from Mr. Littledale. suggests in brief space accepted interpretations that may be found by the seeker after allegorical meaning : "The Coming of Arthur shows us the soul, typified by Arthur, borne into this world of sense. . . The minor paraphernalia of the allegory — the great hall of Arthur, symbolical not of the body, but of the stages through which the soul must rise and the war that it must wage ; the church at Camelot, with the guiding pow- ers, Merlin, intellect, the Lady of the Lake, religion, and the three helpful Queens, Christian virtues ; the sword of the spirit, the armour of the soul militant ; the dragon-boughts of evil tempta- tions that twist and twine around us ; the rays of heavenly radi- ance, love and faith and hope, and the great symbol of the cross,— these have no need of detailed interpretation : we may ascribe as much or as little meaning to them as we please. Then in the first Idyll of the Round Table we have the strife of Gareth, the strong youth, against the foolish symbols of time that the 'four fools' have sucked from the holy hermit's rock-sculptured parable. The fi'esh morning, the hot noon, the mellowing evening of life ai"e typified ; the respective periods of youthful love, and golden cares and ambitions, and the fading life of settled habits, good or bad. . . Then in the Grail we see once more the higher life symbolized. . . Rut such quests are only for the few . even Arthur himself, the ordinary noble soul, can not undertake the Grail at all times. . . The soul that Arthur typifies is the soul of every one of us — it must feel the warmth of double life, must be mated to sense, as Arthur is to Guinevere. If that union is happy and regulated, all will go well ; the purpose of the soul's life will be fulfilled. But if not, if sense, the co-mate of soul be weak and foolish, the children born of their union will be 'red ^The Nineteenth Cefitunj, January, 1893. ^Contemporary Review. January. 1870: May. 1873 (along lines Tennyson himself indicated) ; The Spectator, January, 1870. Cf. also Studies in the Idylls, II. Elsdale, 1878 ; Essays on Tennyson's IdyUs, H. Littledale, 1893 ; Tennyson's Idylls and Arthurian Story, M. W. Maccallum, 1894 : and (one of the best short discussions) Tennyson, his Art and Relation to Modern Life, Stopford A. Brooke, 1894 (pp. 255-370). INTRODUCTION XXV ruin and the breaking up of laws.' . . . Last, as the sun of human existence is sinking in the west, that battle in the winter of life must come, must end in defeat— the soul must pass away. But not to perish utterly. . . Perchance in another life it may heal of its grievous wound. . ." Lancelot and Elaine was one of the earlier Idylls, and shows hardly any allegorical touches (cf. note on 1.1393). In others, like The Holy Grail, there is little less than in Gareth and Lynctte. Tennyson on the Meaning of the Idylls. — It seems clear nevertheless that Tennyson did not wish too great stress to be given to the allegory appearing in the Idylls. "Let not my readers press too hardly for details whether for history or for allegory," he said of the Morte d' Arthur. "Some think that Arthur may be taken to typify conscience. He is anyhow meant to be a man who spent himself in the cause of honor, duty, and self-sacrifice, who felt and aspired with his nobler knights, though with a stronger and clearer conscience than any of them."^ "He considered the reviews of the inner meaning of the poem by Dean Alford in the Contemporary, and by J. T. Knowles in the Spectator the best."^ "But in later years he often said, 'They have taken my hobby and ridden it too hard, and have explained some things too allegorically, although there is an allegorical or perhaps rather a parabolic drift in the poems. Of course Camelot for instance, a city of shadowy palaces, is everywhere symbolic of the gradual growth of human beliefs and institutions, and of the spiritual development of man. Yet there is no single fact or incident in the Idylls, however seemingly mystical, which can not be explained as without any mystery or allegory whatever.' " "I hate to be tied down to say 'This means that' because the thought within the image is much more than any one inter- pretation.'"' -^Memoir, I, 194. "^Ih., II, 126. 3/6.^ n, 127. XXVI INTRODUCTION Perhaps the following from the same passage, said by Ten- nyson with regard to the many meanings of the poem, best indicates his attitude : "Poetry is like shot silk with many glancing colors. Every reader must find his own interpretation according to his ability, and according to his sympathy with the poet. The general drift of the Idylls is clear enough. The whole is the dream of man coming into practical life and ruined by one sin. Birth is a mys- tery and death is a mystery, and in the midst lies the table-land of life, and its struggles and performances. It is not the history of one man or of one generation but of a whole cycle of genera- tions." INTRODUCTION XXVll SELECT REFERENCES 1. Tennyson Biography. Alfred Lord Tennyson, A Memoir, hy his Son (Macmillan). Records of Tennyson, Ruskin and Browning, Mrs. Anne Thackeray Ritchie (Harper and Bros.). Alfred Lord Tennyson, Arthur Waugh (Macmillan). Alfred Tennyson, A. C. Lyall (Macmillan). 2. Tennyson Criticism. Tennyson, his Art and Relation to Modern Life, Stopford, A. Brooke (Isbister). Tennyson, a Critical Study, S. Gwynn (Blackie). Handbook to Tennyson's Works, Morton Luce (Bell and Sons). A Study of the Works of Tennyson, E. E. Tainsh (Macmillan). TJie Poetry of Tennyson, Henry Van Dyke (Scrib- rier's). 3. The Idylls of the King. Studies in the Idylls of the King, Henry Elsdale (Kegan Paul). Essays on Tennyson's Idylls of the King, H. Littledale (Mac- millan). The Growth of the Idylls of the King, Richard Jones (Lippincott). Tennyson's Idylls of the King and Arthurian Story, M. W. Maccallum (MacLehose). The Meaning of the Idylls of the King, C. B. Palleu (American Book Company). 4. Malory and the Arthurian Stories. Le Morte Darthur. Reprint of Caxton's Edition, with Intro- duction, Glossary, etc. H. Oskar Sommer. Ill vols. (Sonnen- scliein). Selections from the Morte Darthur. Edited by W. E. Mead. The introduction has full bibliograpliical references. (Ginn and Co.) The Morte d^ Arthur. Edited by Sir E. Strachcy An edition with modernized text. (Macmillan.) The Arthurian Leg- end, John Rhys (Clarendon Press). Studies of the Legend of the Holy Grail, A. Nutt (D. Nutt). The Legend of Sir Lancelot, Jessie L. Weston (D. Nutt), etc. 10 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Elaine the fair, Blaine the lovable, Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, High in her chamber up a tower to the east Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot; Which first she placed where morning's earliest ray Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam; Then fearing rust or soilure fashion'd for it A case of silk, and braided thereupon All the devices blazon'd on the shield In their own tinct, and added, of her wit, A border fantasy of branch and flower, And yellow-throated nestling in the nest. Nor rested thus content, but day by day, Leaving her household and good father, climb'd That eastern tower, and entering barr'd her door, 15 Stript off the case, and read the naked shield, Now guess'd a hidden meaning in his arms, Now made a pretty history to herself Of every dint a sword had beaten in it. And every scratch a lance had made upon it. Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh; That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle; That at Caerleon; this at Camelot: And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there! And here a thrust that might have kill'd, but God Broke the strong lance, and roll'd his enemy down, And saved him: so she lived in fantasy. How came the lily maid by that good shield Of Lancelot, she that knew not ev'n his name? 20 2 LANCELOT AND ELAINE He left it with her, when he rode to tilt 30 For the great diamond in the diamond jousts, Which Arthur had ordain'd, and by that name Had named them, since a diamond was the prize. For Arthur, long before they crown'd him king, Roving the trackless realms of Lyonesse, 35 Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn. A horror lived about the tarn, and clave Like its own mists to all the mountain side: For here two brothers, one a king, had met And fought together; but their names were lost; 40 And each had slain his brother at a blow; And down they fell and made the glen abhorr'd: And there they lay till all their bones were bleach'd, And lichen'd into color with the crags: And he, that once was king, had on a crown 45 Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside. And Arthur came, and laboring up the pass. All in a misty moonshine, imawares Had trodden that crown'd skeleton, and the skull Brake from the nape, and from the skull the crown 50 Roll'd into light, and turning on its rims Fled like a glittering rivulet to the tarn: And down the shingly scaur he plunged, and caught. And set it on his head, and in his heart Heard murmurs, "Lo, thou likewise shalt be king." 55 Thereafter, when a king, he had the gems Pluck'd from the crown, and show'd them to his knights. Saying, "These jewels, whereupon I chanced Divinely, are the kingdom's, not the King's — For public use: henceforward let there be, GO Once every year, a joust for one of these: For so by nine years' proof we needs must learn LANCELOT AND ELAINE d Which is our mightiest, and ourselves shall grow In use of arms and manhood, till we drive The heathen, who, some say, shall rule the land i^:) Hereafter, which God hinder." Thus he spoke: And eight years past, eight jousts had been, and still Had Lancelot won the diamond of the year, With purpose to present them to the Queen, When all were won; but meaning all at once 70 To snare her royal fancy with a boon Worth half her realm, had never spoken word. Now for the central diamond and the last And largest, Arthur, holding then his court Hard on the river nigh the place which now 75 Is this world's hugest, let proclaim a joust At Camelot, and when the time drew nigh Spake (for she had been sick) to Guinevere, "Are you so sick, my Queen, you can not move To these fair jousts?" "Yea, lord," she said, "ye know it." 80 "Then will ye miss," he answer'd, "the great deeds Of Lancelot, and his prowess in the lists, A sight ye love to look on." And the Queen Lifted her eyes, and they dwelt languidly On Lancelot, where he stood beside the King. 85 He thinking that he read her meaning there, "Stay with me, I am sick; my love is more Than many diamonds," yielded; and a heart. Love-loyal to the least wish of the Queen (However much he yearn'd to make complete 90 The tale of diamonds for his destined boon) Urged him to speak against the truth, and say, "Sir King, m.ine ancient wound is hardly whole. And lets me from the saddle;" and the King 4 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Glanced first at him, then her, and went his way. 95 No sooner gone than suddenly she began: "To blame, my lord Sir Lancelot, much to blame! Why go ye not to these fair jousts? the knights Are half of them our enemies, and the crowd Will murmur, 'Lo, the shameless ones, who take 100 Their pastime, now the trustful King is gone!'" Then Lancelot, vext at having lied in vain: "Are ye so wise? ye were not once so wise. My Queen, that summer, when ye loved me first. Then of the crowd ye took no more account 105 Than of the myriad cricket of the mead, When its own voice clings to each blade of grass, And every voice is nothing. As to knights. Them surely can I silence with all ease. But now my loyal worship is allow'd 110 Of all men: many a bard, without offence. Has link'd our names together in his lay, Lancelot, the flov\^er of bravery, Guinevere, The pearl of beauty: and our knights at feast Have pledged us in this union, while the King 115 Would listen smiling. How then? is there more? Has Arthur spoken aught? or would yourself. Now weary of my service and devoir, Henceforth be truer to your faultless lord?" She broke into a little scornful laugh: 120 "Arthur, my lord, Arthur, the faultless King, That passionate perfection, my good lord — But who can gaze upon the sun in heaven? He never spake word of reproach to me. He never had a glimpse of mine untruth, 125 He cares not for me: only here to-day There gleam'd a vague suspicion in his eyes; LANCELOT AND ELAINE O Some meddling rogue has tamper'd with him — else Rapt in this fancy of his Table Round, And swearing men to vows impossible, 130 To make them like himself: but, friend, to me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth; The low sun makes the color: I am yours, Not Arthur's, as ye know, save by the bond. 135 And therefore hear my words: go to the jousts: The tiny-trumpeting gnat can break our dream When sweetest; and the vermin voices here May buzz so loud — we scorn them, but they sting." Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief of knights: 1 iO "And with what face, after my pretext made, Shall I appear, O Queen, at Camelot, I Before a King who honors his own word. As if it were his God's?" ''Yea," said the Queen, "A moral child without the craft to rule, 1 15 Else had he not lost me: but listen to me. If I must find you wit: we hear it said That men go down before your spear at a touch, But knov\ing you are Lancelot; your great name. This conquers: hide it therefore; go unknown: l.Vj Win! by this kiss you will: and our true King Will then allow your pretext, O my knight. As all for glory; for to speak him true. Ye know right well, hov/ meek soe'er he seem, No keener hunter after glory breathes. 155 He loves it in his knights more than himself: They prove to him his work: win and return." Then got Sir Lancelot suddenly to horse, Wroth at himself. Not willing to be known, 6 LANCELOT AND ELAINE He left the barren-beaten thoroiigMare, 160 Chose the green path that show'd the rarer foot, And there among the solitary downs, Full often lost in fancy, lost his way; Till as he traced a faintly-shadow'd track, That all in loops and links among the dales 165 Ran to the Castle of Astolat, he saw Fired from the west, far on a hill, the towers. Thither he made, and blew the gateway horn. Then came an old, dumb, myriad-wrinkled man. Who let him into lodging and disarm'd. 170 And Lancelot marvell'd at the wordless man; And issuing found the Lord of Astolat With two strong sons. Sir Torre and Sir Lavaine, Moving to meet him in the castle court; And close behind them stept the lily maid 175 Elaine, his daughter: mother of the house There was not: some light jest among them rose With laughter dying down as the great knight Approach'd them: then the Lord of Astolat: "Whence comest thou, my guest, and by what name ISO Livest between the lips? for by thy state And presence I might guess thee chief of those. After the King, who eat in Arthur's halls. Him have I seen: the rest, his Table Round, Known as they are, to me they are unknown." 185 Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief of knights: "Known am I, and of Arthur's hall, and known, What I by mere mischance have brought, my shield. But since I go to joust as one unknown At Camelot for the diamond, ask me not, 190 Hereafter ye shall know me — and the shield — I pray you lend me one, if such you have. Blank, or at least with some device not mine." LANCELOT AND ELAINE 7 Then said the Lord of Astolat, "Here is Torre's: Hurt in his first tilt was my son, Sir Torre. 195 And so, God wot, his shield is blank enough. His ye can have." Then added plain Sir Torre, "Yea, since I cannot use it, ye may have it." Here laugh'd the father saying, "Fie, Sir Churl, Is that an answer for a noble knight? 200 Allow him! but Lavaine, my younger here. He is so full of lustihood, he will ride. Joust for it, and win, and bring it in an hour. And set it in this damsel's golden hair, To make her thrice as wilful as before." 205 "Nay, father, nay, good father, shame me not Before this noble knight," said young Lavaine, "For nothing. Surely I but pla-y'd on Torre: He seem'd so sullen, vext he could not go: A jest, no more! for, knight, the maiden dreamt 210 That some one put this diamond in her hand. And that it was too slippery to be held, And slipt and fell into sonie pool or stream. The castle-well, belike; and then I said That // I went and if I fought and won it 215 (But all was jest and joke among ourselves) Then must she keep it safelier. All was jest. But, father, give me leave, an if he will. To ride to Camelot with this noble knight: Win shall I not, but do my best to win: 220 Young as I am, yet would I do my best." "So ye will grace me," answer'd Lancelot, Smiling a moment, "with your fellowship O'er these waste downs whereon I lost myself, Then were I glad of you as guide and friend: 225 8 LANCELOT AND ELAINE And you shall win this diamond, — as I hear It is a fair large diamond, — if ye may. And yield it to this maiden, if ye will." "A fair large diamond," added plain Sir Torre, "Such be for queens, and not for simple maids." 230 Then she, who held her eyes upon the ground, Elaine, and heard her name so tost about, Flush'd slightly at the slight disparagement Before the stranger knight, who, looking at her. Full courtly, yet not falsely, thus return'd: 2?>'i "If what is fair be but for what is fair, And only queens are to be counted so. Rash were my judgment then, who deem this maid Might wear as fair a jewel as is on earth, Not violating the bond of like to like." 240 He spoke and ceased: the lily maid Elaine, Won by the mellow voice before she look'd, Lifted her ej^es, and read his lineaments. The great and guilty love he bare the Queen, In battle with the love he bare his lord, 245 Had marr'd his face, and mark'd it ere his time. Another sinning on such heights with one. The flower of all the west and all the world, Had been the sleeker for it: but in him His mood was often like a fiend, and rose 250 And drove him into wastes and solitudes For agony, who was yet a living soul. Marr'd as he \\as, he seem'd the goodliest man That ever among ladies ate in hall. And noblest, when she lifted up her eyes. 255 However marr'd, of more than twice her years, Seam'd with an ancient swordcut on the cheek, And bruised and bronzed, she lifted up her eyes And loved him, with that love which was her doom. LANCELOT AND ELAINE U Then the great knight, the darling of the court, 260 Loved of the loveliest, into that rude hall Stept with all grace, and not with half-disdain Hid under grace, as in a smaller time, But kindly man moving among his kind: Whom they with meats and vintage of their best 265 And talk and minstrel melody entertain'd. And much they ask'd of court and Table Round, And ever well and readily answer'd he: But Lancelot, when they glanced at Guinevere, Suddenly speaking of the wordless man, 270 Heard from the Baron that, ten years before, The heathen caught and reft him of his tongue. "He learnt and warn'd me of their fierce design Against my house, and him they caught and maim'd; But I, my sons, and little daughter fled 275 Prom bonds or death, and dwelt among the woods By the great river in a boatman's hut. Dull days were those, till our good Arthur broke The Pagan yet once more on Badon hill." "O there, great lord, doubtless," Lavaine said, rapt 280 By all the sweet and sudden passion of youth Toward greatness in its elder, "you have fought. O tell us — for we live apart — you know Of Arthur's glorious wars." And Lancelot spoke And answer'd him at full, as having been 285 With Arthur in the fight which all day long Rang by the white mouth of the violent Glem; And in the four loud battles by the shore Of Duglas; that on Bassa; then the war That thunder'd in and out the gloomy skirts 290 Of Celidon the forest; and again By castle Gurnion, where the glorious King Had on his cuirass worn our Lady's Head, 10 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Carv'd of one emerald center'd in a sun Of silver rays, that lighten'd as he breathed; 295 And at Caerleon had he help'd his lord, When the strong neighings of the wild White Horse Set every gilded parapet shuddering; And up in Agned-Cathregonion too. And down the waste sand-shores of Trath Treroit, 300 Where many a heathen fell; "and on the mount Of Bad on I myself beheld the King Charge at the head of all his Table Rovmd, And all his legions crying Christ and him, And break them; and I saw him, after, stand 305 High on a heap of slain, from spur to plume Red as the rising sun with heathen blood. And seeing me, with a great voice he cried, 'They are broken, they are broken!' for the King, However mild he seems at home, nor cares 310 B^or triumph in our mimic wars, the jousts — For if his own knight cast him down, he laughs Saying his knights are better men than he — Yet in this heathen war the fire of God Fills him: I never saw his like: there lives 315 No greater leader." While he utter'd this. Low to her own heart said the lily maid, "Save your great self, fair lord;" and when he fell From talk of war to traits of pleasantry — Being mirthful he, but in a stately kind — 320 She still took note that when the living smile Died from his lips, across him came a cloud Of melancholy severe, from which again. Whenever in her hovering to and fro The lily maid had striven to make him cheer, 325 There brake a sudden-beaming tenderness LANCELOT AND ELAINE 11 Of manners and of nature: and she thought That all was nature, all, perchance, for her. And all night long his face before her lived, As when a painter, poring on a face, 330 Divinely thro' all hindrance finds the man Behind it, and so paints him that his face, The shape and color of a mind and life. Lives for his children, ever at its best And fullest; so the face before her lived, 335 Dark-splendid, speaking in the silence, full Of noble things, and held her from her sleep, Till rathe she rose, half-cheated in the thought She needs must bid farewell to sweet Lavaine. First as in fear, step after step, she stole 340 Down the long tower-stairs, hesitating: Anon, she heard Sir Lancelot cry in the court, "This shield, my friend, where is it?" and Lavaine Past inward, as she came from out the tower. There to his proud horse Lancelot turn'd, and smooth'd 345 The glossy shoulder, humming to himself. Half-envious of the flattering hand, she drew Nearer and stood. He look'd, and more amazed Than if seven men had set upon him, saw The maiden standing in the dewy light. 350 He had not dream'd she was so beautiful. Then came on him a sort of sacred fear, For silent, tho' he greeted her, she stood Rapt on his face as if it were a god's. Suddenly flash'd on her a wild desire, 355 That he should wear her favor at the tilt. She braved a riotous heart in asking for it. ''Fair lord, whose name I know not — noble it is, I well believe, the noblest — will you wear My favor at this tourney?" "Nay," said he, 360 12 LANCELOT AND ELAINE "Fair lady, since I never yet have worn Favor of any lady in the lists. Such is my wont, as those who know me know." "Yea, so," she answer'd; "then in wearing mine Needs must be lesser likelihood, noble lord, 365 That those who know should know you." And he turn'd Her counsel up and down within his mind, And found it true, and answer'd, "True, my child. Well, I will wear it: fetch it out to me: What is it?" and she told him "A red sleeve 370 Broider'd with pearls," and brought it: then he bound Her token on his helmet, with a smile Saying, "I never yet have done so much For any maiden living," and the blood Sprang to her face and fill'd her with delight; .3.75 But left her all the paler, when Lavaine Returning brought the yet-unblazon'd shield, His brother's; which he gave to Lancelot, Who parted with his own to fair Elaine: "Do me this grace, my child, to have my shield 380 In keeping till I come." "A grace to me," She answer'd, "twice to-day. I am 3/our squire!" Whereat Lavaine said, laughing, "Lily maid. For fear our people call you lily maid In earnest, let me bring your color back; 385 Once, twice, and thrice: now get you hence to bed;" So kiss'd her, and Sir Lancelot his own hand. And thus they moved away: she stay'd a minute. Then made a sudden step to the gate, and there — Her bright hair blown about the serious face 390 Yet rosy-kindled with her brother's kiss — Paused by the gateway, standing near the shield In silence, while she watch'd their arms far-off Sparkle, until they dipt below the downs. LANCELOT AND ELAINE 13 Then to her tower she climb'd, and took the shield, 395 There kept it, and so lived in fantasy. Meanwhile the new companions past away Far o'er the long backs of the bushless downs. To where Sir Lancelot knew there lived a knight Not far from Camelot, now for forty years 400 A hermit, who had pray'd, labor 'd and pray'd, And ever laboring had scoop'd himself, In the white rock a chapel and a hall On massive columns, like a shorecli'ff cave,. And cells and chambers: all were fair and dry; 40.") The green light from the meadows underneath Struck up and lived along the milky roofs; And in the meadows tremulous aspen-trees And poplars made a noise of falling showers. And thither wending there that night they bode. 410 But when the next day broke from underground, And shot red fire and shadows thro' the cave, They rose, heard mass, broke fast, and rode av/ay: Then Lancelot saying, "Hear, but hold my name Hidden, you ride with Lancelot of the Lake," 415 Abash'd Lavaine, whose instant reverence, Dearer to true young hearts than their own praise, But left him leave to stammer, "Is it indeed?" And after muttering "The great Lancelot," At last he got his breath and answer'd, "One, 420 One have I seen — that other, our liege lord, The dread Pendragon, Britain's King of kings, Of whom the people talk mysteriously, He will be there — then were I stricken blind That minute, I might say that I had seen." 425 So spake Lavaine, and when they reach'd the lists By Camelot in the meadow, let his eyes 14 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Run thro' the peopled gallery which half round Lay like a rainbow fall'n upon the grass, Until they found the clear-faced King, who sat 430 Robed in red samite, easily to be known. Since to his crown the golden dragon clung, And down his robe the dragon Vv^rithed in gold, And from the carven-work behind him crept Two dragons gilded, sloping down to make 4?,;") Arms for his chair, while all the rest of them Thro' knots and loops and folds innumerable Fled ever thro' the woodwork, till they found The new design wherein they lost themselves. Yet with all ease, so tender was the work: 440 And, in the costly canopy o'er him set. Blazed the last diamond of the nameless king. Then Lancelot answer'd young Lavaine and said, "Me you call great: mine is the firmer seat. The truer lance: but there is many a youth 445 Now crescent, who will come to all I am And overcome it; and in me there dwells No greatness, save it be some far-off touch Of greatness to know well I am not great: There is the man." And Lavaine gaped upon him 450 As on a thing miraculous, and anon The trumpets blew; and then did either side, They that assail'd, and they that held the lists. Set lance in rest, strike spur, suddenly move. Meet in the midst, and there so furiously 455 Shock, that a man far-off might well perceive, If any man that day were left afield, The hard earth shake, and a low thunder of arms. "And Lancelot bode a little, till he saw Which were the weaker; then he hurl'd into it 460 Against the stronger: little need to speak LANCELOT AND ELAINE 15 Of Lancelot in his glory! King, duke, earl, Count, baron — ^whom he smote, he overthrew. But in the field were Lancelot's kith and kin, Ranged with the Table Round that held the lists, 465 Strong men, and wrathful that a stranger knight Should do and almost overdo the deeds Of Lancelot; and one said to the other, "Lo! What is he? I do not mean the force alone — The grace and versatility of the man! 470 Is it not Lancelot?" "When has Lancelot worn Favor of any lady in the lists? Not such his wont, as we that know him know." "How then? who then?" a fury seized them all, A fiery family passion for the name 475 Of Lancelot, and a glory one with theirs. They couch'd their spears and prick'd their steeds, and thus, Their plumes driv'n backward by the wind they made In moving, all together down upon him Bare, as a wild wave in the wide North Sea, 480 Green-glimmering toward the summit, bears, with all Its stormy crests that smoke against the skies, Down on a bark, and overbears the bark. And him that helms it, so they overbore Sir Lancelot and his charger, and a spear 485 Down-glancing lamed the charger, and a spear Prick'd sharply his own cuirass, and the head Pierced thro' his side, and there snapt, and remain'd. Then Sir Lavaine did well and worshipfully; He bore a knight of old repute to the earth, 400 And brought his horse to Lancelot where he lay. He up the side, sweating with agony, got, But thought to do while he might yet endure. 16 LANCELOT AND ELAINE And being lustily holpen by the rest, His party, — tlio' it seem'd half-miracle 495 To those he fought with, — drave his kith and kin. And all the Table Round that held the lists, Back to the barrier; then the trumpets blev/ Proclaiming his the prize, who wore the sleeve Of scarlet, and the pearls; and all the knights, 500 His party, cried, "Advance and take thy prize The diamond;" but he answer'd, "Diamond me No diamonds! for God's love, a little air! Prize me no prizes, for my prize is death! Hence will I, and I charge you, follow me not." 505 He spoke, and vanish'd suddenly from the field With young Lavaine into the poplar grove. There from his charger down he slid, and sat. Gasping to Sir Lavaine, "Draw the lance-head:" "Ah my sweet lord Sir Lancelot," said Lavaine, 510 I dread me, if I draw it, you will die." But he, "I die already with it: draw — Draw," — and Lavaine drew, and Sir Lancelot gave A marvellous great shriek and ghastly groan. And half his blood burst forth, and down he sank 515 For the pure pain, and wholly swoon'd away. Then came the hermit out and bare him in, There stanch'd his wound; and there, in daily doubt Whether to live or die, for many a week Hid from the wide v>^orld's rumor by the grove 520 Of poplars with their noise of falling showers. And ever-tremulous aspen-trees, he lay. But on that day when Lancelot fled the lists. His party, knights of utm-ost North and West, Lords of waste marches, kings of desolate isles, 525 Came round their great Pendragon, saying to him, LANCELOT AND ELAINE 17 "Lo, Sire, our knight, thro' whom we won the day, Hath gone sore wounded, and hath left his prize Untaken, crying that his prize is death," "Heaven hinder," said the King, "that such an one, 530 So great a knight as we have seen to-day — He seem'd to me another Lancelot, Yea, twenty times I thought him Lancelot — He must not pass uncared for. Wherefore, rise, Gawain, and ride forth and find the knight. 535 Wounded and wearied needs must he be near. 1 charge you that you get at once to horse. And, knights and kings, there breathes not one of you Will deem this prize of ours is rashly given: His prowess was too wondrous. We will do him 540 No customary honor: since the knight Came not to us, of us to claim the prize. Ourselves will send it after. Rise and take This diamond, and deliver it, and return, And bring us where he is, and how he fares, 545 And cease not from your quest until ye find." So saying, from the carven flower above. To which it made a restless heart, he took. And gave, the diamond: then from where he sat At Arthur's right, with smiling face arose, 550 With smiling face and frowning heart, a prince In the mid might and flourish of his May, Gawain, surnamed The Courteous, fair and strong, And after Lancelot, Tristram, and Geraint And Gareth, a good knight, but therewithal 555 Sir Modred's brother, and the child of Lot, Nor often loyal to his word, and now Wroth that the King's command to sally forth In quest of whom he knew not, made him leave The banquet, and concourse of knights and kings. 560 18 LANCELOT AND ELAINE So all in wrath he got to horse and went; While Arthur to the banquet, dark in mood, Past, thinking, "Is it Lancelot who hath come Despite the wound he spake of, all for gain Of glory, and hath added wound to wound, 565 And ridd'n away to die?" So fear'd the King, And, after two days' tarriance there, return'd. Then when he saw the Queen, embracing ask'd, "Love, are you yet so sick?" "Nay, lord," she said. "And where is Lancelot?" Then the Queen amazed, 570 "Was he not with you? won he not your prize?" "Nay, but one like him." "Why that like was he." And when the King demanded how she knew. Said, "Lord, no sooner had ye parted from us. Than Lancelot told me of a common talk 575 That men went down before his spear at a touch, But knowing he was Lancelot; his great name Conquer'd; and therefore would he hide his name From all men, ev'n the King, and to this end Had made the pretext of a hindering wound, 580 That he might joust unknown of all, and learn If his old prowess were in aught decay'd; And added, 'Our true Arthur, when he learns. Will well allow my pretext, as for gain Of purer glory.' " Then replied the King: 585 "Far lovelier in our Lancelot had it been, In lieu of idly dallying with the truth, To have trusted me as he hath trusted thee. Surely his King and most familiar friend Might well have kept his secret. True, indeed, 590 Albeit I know my knights fantastical, So fme a fear in our large Lancelot Must needs have moved my laughter: now remains LANCELOT AND ELAINE 19 But little cause for laughter: his own kin — • 111 news, my Queen, for all who love him, this! — 595 His kith and kin, not knowing, set upon him; So that he went sore wounded from the field: Yet good news too: for goodly hopes are mine That Lancelot is no more a lonely heart. He wore, against his wont, upon his helm 600 A sleeve of scarlet, broider'd with great pearls, Som.e gentle maiden's gift." "Yea, lord," she said, "Thy hopes are mine," and saying that, she choked, And sharply turn'd about to hide her face. Past to her chamber, and there flung herself 605 Down on the great King's coucjh, and writhed upon it. And clench'd her fingers till they bit the palm. And shriek'd out "Traitor" to the unhearing wall. Then flash'd into v.ild tears, and rose again. And moved about her palace, proud and pale. 610 Gawain the while thro' all the region round Rode with his diamond, wearied of the quest, Touch'd at all points, except the poplar grove, And came at last, tho' late, to Astolat: Whom glittering in enamell'd arms the maid 615 Glanced at, and cried, "What news from Camelot, lord? What of the knight with the red sleeve?" "He won." "I knew it," she said. "But parted from the jousts Hurt in the side," whereat she caught her breath; Thro' her own side she felt the sharp lance go; 6:30 Thereon she smote her hand: well-nigh she swoon'd: And, while he gazed wonderingly at her, came The Lord of Astolat out, to whom the Prince Reported who he was, and on what quest Sent, that he bore the prize and could not find 625 20 LANCELOT AND ELAINE The victor, but had ridd'n a random round To seek him, and had wearied of the search. To whom the Lord of Astolat, "Bide with us, And ride no more at random, noble Prince! Here was the knight, and here he left a shield; 630 This will he send or come for: furthermore Our son is with him: we shall hear anon, Needs must we hear." To this the courteous Prince Accorded with his wonted courtesy. Courtesy with a touch of traitor in it, 635 And stay'd; and cast his eyes on fair Elaine: Where could be found face daintier? then her shape From forehead down to foot, perfect — again From foot to forehead exquisitely turn'd: "Well — if I bide, lo! this wild flower for me!" 640 And oft they met among the garden yews, And there he set himself to play upon her With sallying wit, free flashes from a height Above her, graces of the court, and songs. Sighs, and slow smiles, and golden eloquence 645 And amorous adulation, till the maid Rebell'd against it, saying to him, "Prince, loyal nephew of our noble King, Why ask you not to see the shield he left, Whence you might learn his name? Why slight your King, 650 And lose the quest he sent you on, and prove No surer than our falcon yesterday. Who lost the hern we slipt her at, and went To all the winds?" "Nay, by mine head," said he, 1 lose it, as we lose the lark in heaven, 655 O damsel, in the light of your blue eyes; But an ye will it let me see the shield." And when the shield was brought, and Gawain saw LANCELOT AND ELAINE 21 Sir Lancelot's azure lions, crown'd with gold, Ramp in the field, he smote his thigh, and mock'd: 660 "Right was the King! our Lancelot! that true man!" "And right was I," she answer'd merrily, "I, Who dream'd my knight the greatest knight of all." "And if / dream'd," said Gawain, "that you love This greatest knight, your pardon! lo, ye know it! 665 Speak therefore: shall I waste myself in vain?" Full simple was her answer, "What know I? My brethren have been all my fellowship; And I, when often they have talk'd of love, Wish'd it had been my mother, for they talk'd, 670 Meseem'd, of what they knew not; so myself — I know not if I know what true love is, But if I know, then, if I love not him, I know there is none other I can love." "Yea, by God's death," said he, "ye love him well, 675 But would not, knew ye what all others know. And whom he loves." "So be it," cried Elaine, And lifted her fair face and moved away: But he pursued her, calling, "Stay a little! One golden minute's grace! he wore your sleeve: 680 Would he break faith with one I may not name? Must our true man change like a leaf at last? Nay — like enow: why then, far be it from me To cross our mighty Lancelot in his loves! And, damsel, for I deem you know full well 685 Where your great knight is hidden, let me leave My quest with you; the diamond also: here! For if you love, it will be sweet to give it; And if he love, it will be sweet to have it From your own hand; and whether he love or not, 690 A diamond is a diamond. Fare you well A thousand times! — a thousand times farewell! 22 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Yet, if he love, and his love hold, we two May meet at court hereafter: there, I think. So ye will learn the courtesies of the court, 695 We two shall know each other." Then he gave. And slightly kiss'd the hand to which he gave, The diamond, and all wearied of the quest Leapt on his horse, and carolling as he went A true-love ballad, lightly rode away. 700 Thence to the court he past; there told the King What the King knew, "Sir Lancelot is the knight." And added, "Sire, my liege, so much I learnt; But fail'd to find him tho' I rode all round The region: but I lighted on the maid 705 Whose sleeve he wore; she loves him; and to her. Deeming our courtesy is the truest law, I gave the diamond: she will render it; For by mine head she knows his hiding-place." The seldom-frowning King frown'd, and replied, 710 "Too courteous truly! ye shall go no more On quest of mine, seeing that ye forget Obedience is the courtesy due to kings." He spake and parted. Wroth, but all in awe, For twenty strokes of the blood, without a word, 715 Linger'd that other, staring after him; Then shook his hair, strode off, and buzz'd abroad About the maid of Astolat, and her love. All ears were prick'd at once, all tongues were loosed: "The maid of Astolat loves Sir Lancelot, 720 Sir Lancelot loves the maid of Astolat." Some read the King's face, some the Queen's, and all Had marvel what the maid might be, but most LANCELOT AND ELAINE 23 Predoom'd her as unworthy. One old dame Came suddenly on the Queen with the sharp news. 725 She, that had heard the noise of it before. But sorrowing Lancelot should have stoop'd so low, Marr'd her friend's aim with pale tranquillity. So ran the tale like tire about the court, Fire in dry stubble a nine-days' wonder flared: 730 Till ev'n the knights at banquet twice or thrice Forgot to drink to Lancelot and the Queen, And pledging Lancelot and the lily maid Smiled at each other, while the Queen, who sat With lips severely placid, felt the knot 735 Climb in her throat, and with her feet unseen Crush'd the wild passion out against the floor Beneath the banquet, where the meats became As wormwood, and she hated all who pledged. But far away the maid in Astolat, 740 Her guiltless rival, she that ever kept The one-day-seen Sir Lancelot in her heart, Crept to her father, while he mused alone, Sat on his knee, stroked his gray face and said, "Father, you call me wilful, and the fault 745 Is yours who let me have my will, and now, Sweet father, will you let me lose my wits?" "Nay," said he, "surely." "Wherefore, let me hence," She answer'd, "and find out our dear Lavaine." "Ye will not lose your wits for dear Lavaine: 750 Bide," answer'd he: "we nee.ds must hear anon Of him and of that other." "Ay," she said, "And of that other, for I needs must hence And find that other, wheresoe'er he be. And with mine own hand give his diamond to him, 755 Lest I be found as faithless in the quest As yon proud Prince who left the quest to me. 24 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Sweet father, I behold him in my dreams Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself, Death-pale, for lack of gentle maiden's aid. 760 The gentler-born the maiden, the more bound, My father, to be sweet and serviceable To noble knights in sickness, as ye know, When these have worn their tokens: let me hence I pray yon." Then her father nodding said, 765 "Ay, ay, the diamond: wit ye well, my child, R,ight fain were I to learn this knight were whole, Being our greatest: yea, and you must give it — And sure I think this fruit is hung too high For any mouth to gape for save a queen's — 770 Nay, I mean nothing: so then, get you gone. Being so very wilful you must go." Lightly, her suit allow'd, she slipt away. And while she made her ready for her ride, Her father's latest word humm'd in her ear, 775 "Being so very wilful you must go," And changed itself and echo'd in her heart, "Being so very wilful you must die." But she was happy enough and shook it off, As we shake off the bee that buzzes at us; 780 And in her heart she answer'd it and said, "What matter, so I help him back to life?" Then far away with good Sir Torre for guide Rode o'er the long backs of the bushless downs To Camelot, and before the* city-gates 785 Came on her brother with a happy face Making a roan horse caper and curvet For pleasure all about a field of flowers: Whom when she saw, "Lavaine," she cried, "Lavaine, How fares my lord Sir Lancelot?" He amazed, 790 "Torre and Elaine! why here? Sir Lancelot! LANCELOT AND ELAINE 25 How know ye my lord's name is Lancelot?" But when the maid had told him all her tale, Then turn'd Sir Torre, and being in his moods Left them, and under the strange-statued gate, 793 Where Arthur's wars were render'd mystically, Past up the still rich city to his kin, His own far blood, which dwelt at Camelot; And her, Lavaine across the poplar grove Led to the caves: there first she saw the casque 800 Of Lancelot on the wall: her scarlet sleeve, Tho' carved and cut, and half the pearls away, Stream'd from it still; and in her heart she laugh'd, Because he had not loosed it from his helm, But meant once more perchance to tourney in it. 805 And when they gain'd the cell wherein he slept. His battle-writben arms and mighty hands Lay naked on the wolfskin, and a dream Of dragging down his enemy made them move. Then she that saw him lying unsleek, unshorn, 810 Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself, Utter'd a little tender dolorous cry. The sound not wonted in a place so still Woke the sick knight, and while he roll'd his eyes Yet blank from sleep, she started to him, saying, S15 "Your prize the diamond sent you by the King:" His eyes glisten'd: she fancied, "Is it for me?" And when the maid had told him all the tale Of King and Prince, the diamond sent, the quest Assign'd to her not worthy of it, she knelt 820 Full lowly by the corners of his bed. And laid the diamond in his open hand. Her face was near, and as we kiss the child That does the task assign'd, he kiss'd her face. At once she slipt like water to the floor. 825 26 LANCELOT AND ELAINE "Alas," he said, "your ride hath wearied you. Rest must you have." "No rest for me," she said; "Nay, for near you, fair lord, I am at rest." What might she mean by that? his large black eyes, Yet larger thro' his leanness, dwelt upon her, 830 Till all her heart's sad secret blazed itself In the heart's colors on her simple face; And Lancelot look'd and was perplext in mind. And being weak in body said no more, But did not love the color; woman's love, 835 Save one, he not regarded, and so turn'd Sighing, and feign'd a sleep until he slept. Then rose Elaine and glided thro' the fields, And past beneath the weirdly-sculptured gates Far up the dim rich city to her kin; 840 There bode the night: but woke with dawn, and past Down thro' the dim rich ci,ty to the fields, Thence to the cave: so day by day she past In either twilight ghost-like to and fro Gliding, and every day she tended him, 845 And likewise many a night: and Lancelot Would, tho' he call'd his wound a little hurt Whereof he should be quickly whole, at times Brain-feverous in his heat and agony, seem Uncourteous, even he: but the meek maid 850 Sweetly forbore him ever, being to him Meeker than any child to a rough nurse. Milder than any mother to a sick child. And never woman yet, since man's first fall. Did kindlier unto man, but her deep love 855 Upbore her; till the hermit, skill'd in all The simples and the science of that time. Told him that her fine care had saved his life. And the sick man forgot her simple blush. LANCELOT AND ELAINE 27 Would call her friend and sister, sweet Elaine, 860 Would listen for her coming and regret Her parting step, and held her tenderly, And loved her with all love except the love Of man and woman when they love their best. Closest and sweetest, and had died the death 865 In any knightly fashion for her sake. And peradventure had he seen her first She might have made this and that other world Another world for the sick man; but now The shackles of an old love straiten'd him, 870 His honor rooted in dishonor stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true. Yet the great knight in his mid-sickness made Full many a holy vow and pure resolve. These, as but born of sickness, could not live: 875 For when the blood ran lustier in him again. Full often the bright image of one face, Making a treacherous quiet in his heart. Dispersed his resolution like a cloud. Then if the maiden, while "that ghostly grace 880 Beam'd on his fancy, spoke, he answer'd not^ Or short and coldly, and she knew right well What the rough sickness meant, but what this meant She knew not, and the sorrow dimm'd her sight. And drave her ere her time across the fields 885 Far into the rich city, where alone She murmur'd, ''Vain, in vain: it cannot be. He will not love me: how then? m^ust I die?" Then as a little helpless innocent bird, That has but one plain passage of few notes, 890 Will sing the simple passage o'er and o'er For all an April morning, till the ear Wearies to hear it, so the simple maid 28 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Went half the night repeating, "Must I die?" And now to right she turn'd, and now to left, 895 And found no ease in turning or in rest; And "Him or death," she mutter'd, "death or him," Again and like a burthen, "Him or death." But when Sir Lancelot's deadly hurt was whole, To Astolat returning rode the three. 903 There morn by morn, arraying her sweet self In that wherein she deem'd she look'd her best, She came before Sir Lancelot, for she thought "If I be loved, these are my festal robes. If not, the victim's flowers before he fall." 905 And Lancelot ever prest upon the maid That she should ask some goodly gift of him For her own self or hers; "and do not shun To speak the wish most near to your true heart; Such service have ye done me, that I make 910 My will of yours, and prince and lord am I In mine own land, and what I will I can." Then like a ghost she lifted up her face, But like a ghost without the power to speak. And Lancelot saw that she withheld her wish, 915 And bode among them yet a little space Till he should learn it; and one morn it chanced He found her in among the garden yews, And said, "Delay no longer, speak your wish. Seeing I go to-day:" then out she brake: 920 "Going? and we shall never see you more. And I must die for want of one bold word." "Speak: that I live to hear," he said, "is yours." Then suddenly and passionately she spoke: "I have gone mad. I love you: let me die." 925 "Ah, sister," answer'd Lancelot, "what is this?" And Innocently extending her white arms, LANCELOT AND ELAINE 29 "Your love," she said, "your love — to be your wife." And Lancelot answer'd, "Had I chosen to wed, I had been wedded earlier, sweet Elaine: 930 But now there never will be wife of mine," "No, no," she cried, "I care not to be wife. But to be with you still, to see your face^ To serve you, and to follow you thro' the world." And Lancelot ansv/er'd, "Nay, the world, the world, <)?,:) All ear and eye, with such a stupid heart To interpret ear and eye, and such a tongue To blare its own interpretation — nay. Full ill then should I quit your brother's love. And your good father's kindness." And she said, 940 "Not to be with you, not to see your face- Alas for me then, my good days are done." "Nay, noble maid," he answer'd, "ten times nay! This is not love: but love's first flash in youth, Most common: yea, I know it of mine own self: 945 And you yourself will smile at your own self Hereafter, when you yield your flower of life To one more fitly yours, not thrice your age: And then will I, for true you are and sweet Beyond mine old belief in womanhood, 950 More specially should your good knight be poor. Endow you with broad land and territory Even to the half my realm beyond the seas, So that would make you happy: furthermore, Ev'n to the death, as tho' ye were my blood, 955 In all your quarrels will I be your knight. This will I do, dear damsel, for your sake, And more than this I cannot." While he spoke She neither blush'd nor shook, but deathly-pale Stood grasping what was nearest, then replied: 960 30 LANCELOT AND ELAINE "Of all this will I nothing;" and so fell, And thus they bore her swooning to her tower. Then spake, to whom thro' those black walls of yew Their talk had pierced, her father: "Ay, a flash, I fear me, that will strike my blossom dead. 965 Too courteous are ye, fair Lord Lancelot. I pray you, use some rough discourtesy To blunt or break her passion." Lancelot said, "That were against me: what I can I will;" And there that day remain'd, and toward even 070 Sent for his shield: full meekly rose the maid, Stript off the case, and gave the naked shield; Then, when she heard his horse upon the stones. Unclasping flung the casement back, and look'd Down on his helm, from which her sleeve had gone. 975 And Lancelot knew the little clinking sound; And she by tact of love was well aware That Lancelot knew that she was looking at him. And yet he glanced not up, nor waved his hand. Nor bade farewell, but sadly rode away. 980 This was the one discourtesy that he used. So in her tower alone the maiden sat: His very shield was gone; only the case, Her own poor work, her empty labor, left. But still she heard him, still his picture form'd 9S5 And grew between her and the pictured wall. Then came her father, saying in low tones, "Have comfort," whom she greeted quietly. Then came her brethren saying, "Peace to thee, Sweet sister," whom she answer'd with all calm. 991 But when they left her to herself again. Death, like a friend's voice from a distant field LANCELOT AND ELAINE 31 Approaching thro' the darkness, call'd; the owls Wailing had power upon her, and she mixt Her fancies with the sallow-rifted glooms 995 Of evening, and the moanings of the wind. And in those days she made a little song. And call'd her song "The Song of Love and Death," And sang it: sweetly could she make and sing. "Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain; 1000 And sweet is death who puts an end to pain: I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. "Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be: Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me. Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. 1005 "Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away, Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, 1 know not which is sweeter, no, not L "I fain would follow love, if that could be; I needs must follow death,. who calls for me; 1010 Call and I follow, I follow! let me die." High with the last line scaled her voice, and this. All in a fiery dawning wild with wind That shook her tow^er, the brothers heard, and thought With shuddering, "Hark the Phantom of the house 1015 That ever shrieks before a death," and call'd The father, and all three in hurry and fear Ran to her, and lo! the blood-red light of dawn Flared on her face, she shrilling, "Let me die!" As when we dwell upon a word v/e know, 1020 Repeating, till the word we know so well Becomes a wonder, and we know not why, 32 LANCELOT AND ELAINE So dwelt the father on her face, and thought, "Is this Elaine?" till back the maiden fell, Then gave a languid hand to each, and lay, 1025 Speaking a still good-morrow with her eyes. At last she said, "Sweet brothers, yester night I seem'd a curious little maid again, As happy as when we dwelt among the woods, And when ye used to take me with the flood 1030 Up the great river in the boatman's boat. Only ye would not pass beyond the cape That has the poplar on it: there ye fixt Your limit, oft returning with the tide. And yet I cried because ye would not pass 1035 Beyond it, and far up the shining flood Until we found the palace of the King. And yet ye would not; but this night I dream'd That I was all alone upon the flood. And then I said, 'Now shall I have my will:' 1040 And there I woke, but still the wish remain'd. So let me hence that I may pass at last Beyond the poplar and far up the flood, Until I find the palace of the King. There will I enter in among them all, 1045 And no man there will dare to mock at me; But there the fine Gawain will wonder at me. And there the great Sir Lancelot muse at me; Gawain, who bade a thousand farewells to me, Lancelot, who coldly went nor bade me one: 1050 And there the King will know me and my love, And there the Queen herself will pity me. And all the gentle court will welcome me, And after my long voyage I shall rest!" "Peace," said her father, "O my child, ye seem 1055 Light-headed, for what force is yours to go LANCELOT AND ELAINE 33 So far, being sick? and wherefore would ye look On this proud fellow again, who scorns us all?" Then the rough Torre began to heave and move. And bluster into stormy sobs and say, 1060 "I never loved him: an I meet with him, I care not howsoever great he be. Then will I strike at him and strike him down, Give me good fortune, I will strike him dead, For this discomfort he hath done the house." 1065 To whom the gentle sister made reply, "Fret not yourself, dear brother, nor be wroth, Seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's fault Not to love me, than it is mine to love Him of all men who seems to me the highest." 1070 "Highest?" the father answer'd, echoing "highest?" (He meant to break the passion in her) "nay, Daughter, I know not what you call the highest; But this I know, for all the people know it, He loves the Queen, and in an open shame: 1075 And she returns his love in open shame; If this be high, what is it to be low?" Then spake the lily maid of Astolat: "Sweet father, all too faint and sick am I For anger: these are slanders: never yet 1080 Was noble man but made ignoble talk. He makes no friend who never made a foe. But now it is my glory to have loved One peerless, without stain: so let me pass, My father, howsoe'er I seem to you, 1085 Not all unhappy, having loved God's best And greatest, tho' my love had no return: Yet, seeing you desire your child to live, 34 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Thanks, but you work against your own desire; For if I could believe the things you say 1090 I should but die the sooner; wherefore cease, Sweet father, and bid call the ghostly man Hither, and let me shrive me clean, and die." So when the ghostly man had come and gone. She with a face, bright as for sin forgiven, 1095 Besought Lavaine to write as she devised A letter, word for word: and when he ask'd "Is it for Lancelot, is it for my dear lord? Then will I bear it gladly;" she replied, "For Lancelot and the Queen and all the world, iioo But I myself must bear it." Then he wrote Tlie letter she devised; which being writ And folded, "O sweet father, tender and true. Deny me not," she said — "ye never yet Denied my fancies — 'this, however strange, ii05 My latest: lay the letter in my hand A little ere I die, and close the hand Upon it; I shall guard it even in death. And when the heat is gone from out my heart. Then take the little bed on which I died mo For Lancelot's love, and deck it like the Queen's For richness, and me also like the Queen In all I have of rich, and lay me on it. And let there be prepared a chariot-bier To take me to the river, and a barge 1115 Be ready on the river, clothed in black. I go in state to court, to meet the Queen. There surely I shall speak for mine own self, And none of you can speak for me so v/ell. And therefore let our dumb old man alone 1120 Go with me, he can steer and row, and he Will guide me to that palace, to the doors," LANCELOT AND ELAINE 35 She ceased: her father promised; whereupon She grew so cheerful that they deem'd her death Was rather in the fantasy than the blood. 1125 But ten slow mornings past, and on the eleventh 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 underground, 11 30 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. 1135 There sat the lifelong creature of the house, Loj^al. 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, 1140 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. 1145 Then rose the dumb old servitor, and the dead, Oar'd by the dumb, went upward with the flood — In her right hand the lily, in her left The letter — all her bright hair streaming down — And all the coverlid was cloth of gold 1150 Drawn to her waist, and she 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. That day Sir Lancelot at the palace craved 1155 Audience of Guinevere, to give at last 36 LAN'CELOT AND ELAINE 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 1160 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 well nigh Idss'd her feet- 1165 For loyal av/e, saw with a sidelong eye The shadow of some 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, 1170 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 ii75 An armlet for the roundest 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 1180 Words, as we grant grief tears. Such sin in words Perchance, we both can pardon: but, my Queen, I hear of rumors flying thro' your court. Our bond, as not the bond of man and wife. Should have in it an absoluter trust 1185 To make up that defect: let rumors be: When did not rumors fly? these, as I trust That you trust me in your own nobleness, I may not well believe that you believe." LANCELOT AND ELAINE 37 While thus he spoke, half turn'd away, the Queen iioo Brake from the vast 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 1195 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, 1200 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 acknovviedge nobler. What are these? Diamonds for me! they had been thrice their worth 1205 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. 1210 I doubt not that however changed, you keep So much of what is graceful: and myself Would shun to break those bounds of courtesy In which as Arthur's Queen I move and rule: So cannot speak my mind. An end to this! 1215 A strange one! yet I take it with Amen. So pray you, add 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 1220 O as much fairer — as a faith once fair Was richer than these diamonds — hers not mine — Nay, by the mother of our Lord himself. 38 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Or hers or mine, mine now to work my will — She shall not have them." Saying which she seized, 1325 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 disdain 1230 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 smiling, like a star in blackest night. i23.j 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, 1240 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 clif£-side, appall'd them, and they said, 1245 "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 Fairyland? For some do hold our Arthur cannot die, 1250 But that he passes into Fairyland." 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 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 39 And pointed to the damsel, and the doors. 1255 So Arthur bade 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, 1260 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, 3 265 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, 1270 And to all other ladies, 1 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 1275 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: 1280 "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. 1285 Yet to be loved makes not to love again; 40 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 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, 1290 Her brethren, and her father, who himself Besought me to be plain and blunt, and use. To break her passion, some discourtesy Against my nature: what I could, I did. I left her, and I bade her no farewell; 1295 Tho', had I dreamt the damsel would have died, I might have put my wits to some rough use. And help'd her from herself." Then said the Queen (Sea was her wrath, yet working after storm), "Ye might at least have done her so much grace, 1300 Fair lord, as would have help'd her from her death." He raised his head, their eyes met and hers fell. He adding, "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; 1305 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 — then would I, More specially were he, she wedded, poor, 1310 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, 1315 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." LANCELOT AND ELAINE 41 So toward that shrine which then in all the realm Was richest, Arthur leading, slowly went 1320 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. 1325 And, when the knights had laid her comely head Lov/ in the dust of half -for gotten kings, Then Arthur spake among them, "Let her tomb Be costly, and her image thereupon. 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 Thereafter; but, when now the lords and 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." 1340 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 said, "Lancelot, my Lancelot, thou in whom I have Most joy 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 honor and to make his name. And loved thy courtesies and thee, a man 1330 1335 1345 1350 42 LANCELOT AND ELAINE Made to be loved; but now I would to God, Seeing the homeless trouble in thine eyes, Thou couldst have loved this maiden, shaped, it seems, 1355 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 13G0 Born to the glory of thy name and fame, My knight, the great Sir Lancelot of the Lake." Then answer'd Lancelot, ''B^air she was, my King, Pure, as you ever wish your knights to be. To doubt her fairness were to want an eye, 1365 To doubt her pureness were to want a heart — Yea, to be loved, if v/hat is worthy love Could bind him, but free love will not be bound." "Free love, so bound, were freest," said the King. "Let love be free; free love is for the best: i:',70 And, after heaven, on our dull side of death, What should be best, if not so pure a love Clothed in so pure a loveliness? yet thee She fail'd to bind, tho' being, as I think, LTnbound as yet, and gentle, as I know." 1375 And Lancelot answer'd nothing, but he went. And at the inrunning of a little brook Sat by the river in a cove, and watch'd The high reed wave, and lifted up his eyes And saw the barge that brought her moving down, ];;so Par-off, a blot upon the stream, and said Low in himself, "Ah simple heart and sweet. Ye loved me, damsel, surely with a love Far tenderer than my Queen's. Pray for thy soul? LANCELOT AND ELAINE 43 Ay, that will I. Farewell too — now at last — 1385 Farewell, fair lily. 'Jealousy in love?' Not rather dead love's harsh heir, jealous pride? Queen, if I grant the jealousy as of love, May not your crescent fear for name and fame Speak, as it waxes, of a love that wanes? 1390 Why did the King dwell on my name to me? Mine own name shames me, seeming a reproach, Lancelot, whom the Lady of the Lake Caught from his mother's arms — the wondrous one Who passes thro' the vision of the night — 1395 She chanted snatches of mysterious hymns Heard on the Avinding waters, eve and morn She kiss'd me saying, 'Thou art fair, my child. As a king's son,' and often in her arms She bare me, pacing on the dusky mere. 1400 Would she had drown'd me in it, where'er it be! For what am I? what profits me my name Of greatest knight? I fought for it, and have it: Pleasure to have it, none; to lose it, pain; Now grown a part of me: but what use in it? 1405 To make men worse by making my sin known? Or sin seem less, the sinner seeming great? Alas for Arthur's greatest knight, a man Not after Arthur's heart! T needs must break These bonds that so defame me: not without 1410 She wills it: would I, if she will'd it? nay. Who knows? but if I would not, then may God, I pray him, send a sudden angel down To seize me by the hair and bear me far. And fling me deep in that forgotten mere, 1415 Among the tumbled fragments of the hills." So groan'd Sir Lancelot in remorseful pain. Not knowing he should die a holy man. NOTES 1. Blaine the fair. Malory's Elaiue le blank, i. e. hlanche or white, the Fair Maid of Astolot. Epithets like le Blank are very common in mediaeval chivalric and romantic literature, cf. Isolt of the White Hands, Balin the Savage, Sagramour the Desirous, Ozanna of the Hardj' Heart, Gawain the Courteous. 2. Astolat. "A towne called Astolot, that is now in Englyssh called Gylford." (Malory.) Malory identifies Astolat with Guild- ford In Surrey southeast of London, and situated on a tributary of the Thames above London. Tennyson's Astolat, while on the Thames, is not above but below London (11.103G, 1147). The name is also spelled Ascolat, Ascalot, Scalot, etc., whence the Anglicized Shalott of Tennyson's early lyric on the theme of Elaine, which should be read in connection with the Idyll, The Lady of Shalott. 4. Lancelot. For his place in Arthurian legend, cf. Introd. Tennyson tells the story of his childhood, 11.1393-1400, cf. note on This passage. Malory's spelling of the name is Launcelot, which is that followed in the poems of William Morris and of Richard Hovey. Tennyson used it in his early lyric, Sir Launcelot and Queen Ouinevere, 1842, and in the 1857 Enid and Nimue. Later he modified the latter cases to Lancelot. The latter is the standard form, Launcelot the Anglo-Norman, -an in Anglo-Norman often passing into -aim, as Fraunee, graunt, etc. 7. soilure. Poetical. Cf. Shakespeare, Troileus and Cressida, IV; i, 56. 8. case. The suggestion of the case for Lancelot's shield came perhaps from Malory, XVIII, 14, "Soo whan the sheld was comen Sir Gawayn took of the caas." braided. Here — hroidcd, i. e. hroidcred or emhroidercd, words with which hraidcd was confused, though etymological ly distinct, because of the similarity of sound. 10. tinct. Obsolete or poetic. Cf. Shakespeare, Hamlet, III, iv, 01 ; Thomson, Castle of Indolence, I, xliv, etc. of her wit. The usual modern meaning of tvit is late, cf. the etymology of the word. Expressions like 'out of your wits,' 'keep your wits about you' better show the older meaning. 11. fantasy. An older form of fancy, with similar meaning. 44 NOTES 45 12. yellow-throated nestling:. For an account of Tennyson's mi- nute and accurate observation of plant, bird, and animal life, his walks, etc., cf. Memoir, I, 18 ; II, 413. 16. Siript. Cf. tost, 1.232, perplext, 1.833, etc. For Tenny- son's rule for writing participles in -ed, cf. Memoir, II, 496. 17. arms. Armorial bearings, as in the expression coat-of-arms. 19. dint. The original meaning was 'blow,' 'stroke,' not 'mark made by a blow.' The usual present English form is dent. 22. Caerlyle, Carlisle in Cumberland. The Roman name was Luguvallum. This, it is thought, was contracted, and the Celtic Caer, 'city,' prefixed, giving Caer-Luell, Carliol, etc., finally Car- lisle. According to the Morte Darthur, King Arthur's court was sometimes held in Carlisle. 23. Caerleon. Caerleon-upon-Usk, situated in Monmouthshire, the Roman Isca Silurum. One of Arthur's twelve great battles was fought here (1.296). The town was important in be Ro- man period, the Roman Second Legion having its station there, hence was known as Castra Legionis, Camp of the Legions, a name afterwards shortened and changed by confusion with the prefix Caer-, to Caerleon. Nennius wrote in urhe Leogis quae Britannia Cair Leon dicitur. Existing Roman remains in Caerleon are frag- ments of the city walls and an amphitheater overgrown with grass among the hills, the latter called traditionally "King Ar- thur's Round Table." Caerleon, in Malory, is not the seat of Arthur's court, though it came to be according to later tradition. Tennyson visited Caerleon in 1S50 {Memoir, I, 416) and wrote, September 16 : "The Usk murmurs by the windows, and I sit like King Arthur in Caerleon. This is a most quiet half-ruined little village of about 1500 inhabitants with a little museum of Roman tombstones and other things." Camelot. "to the Cyte of Camelot, that is in Englysshe Win- chester." (Malory.) Winchester is a town in Hampshire sixty- six miles southwest of London. In the sixth century it became the capital of Wessex, and remained of importance in the Old English period. Caxton (Preface of the Morte Darthur) writes, "And yet of record remayne in wytnesse of hym in Wales in the toune of Camelot the grete stones and meruaylous werkys of yron lyeng vnder the grounde." "Camelot is neither situated in Wales, as Caxron states, nor is the English Winchester identical with it. Camel, near South Cadbury, Somersets, is the place where the 46 remains of the old city of Camelot are to be found." (Sommer, Mortc Darihur, II, 157.) Traditions of Ai-tliur linger :n the neighborhood of the village of Camel, or Queen's Camel, in names like "Arthur's Spring" and "Arthur's Bridge." In the Morte Darthur Camelot is Arthur's capital and most important city, the site of feasts and tournaments. Perhaps he identifies it with Winchester because of the earlier importance of the latter as a seat of royalty. With Tennyson, as with Malory, Camelot is Arthur's capital. Tennyson's Camelot in the Idylls is a dim mysterious city of undetermined locality. For references to its wonderful gate, its richness, etc., cf. notes on 11.795, 797. In The Lady of Shalott, the boat "floats down" to Camelot, as though the city were below Astolat. 24. God's riercy. Cf. "God's death," and other interjectional phrases popular in the middle ages, note on 1.675. Probably the origin of the expression is to be found in the Old French Dcu mercit, or la mercit Dew. where Deu is an old genitive. (Chanson lie Roland, 1259, 2183, 2505.) 28. Tennyson breaks off, at this point, to supply the explanation of his opening scene. Other Idylls which open in medias res are The Marriage of Gcraint, Merlin and Vivien, The Last Tourna- ment, and Guinevere. Such beginnings are very common in modern novels and short stories. 31. jousts. In jousts the only weapon used was the lance. Malory generally uses the plural of the word as a singular, "at a grete justs," etc. (a use of the word not noted by Baldwin, In- flection and Syntax of the Morte Darthur, or by the dictionaries). Tennyson imitates this use in The Last Tournament, 1.51. 34. For Arthur, etc. In the 1859 Elaine this passage read : •'For Arthur when none kneio from whence he came. Long ere the people chose him- for their king. Roving the trackless realms of Lyonesse'" — 35. Lyonesse. Read the beautiful lines in The Passing of Ar- thur, 11.81-87. Lyonesse is a legendary land supposed to lie south- west of Cornwall, an extension of the mainland of which all but the Scilly Isles is now covered by water. Lyonesse is the home of Sir Tristram, cf. note on 1.554. 87. clave. Archaic preterite of cleave 'adhere,' originally a "weak" verb. Cf. the history of cleave 'adhere' and cleave 'split,' which have exchanged preterites. NOTES 47 41. had slain his brother, etc. The story told in this paragraph of the brotlierg and Arthur's finding of the diamonds is not from the Morte Dartliur but is Tennyson's own. 45. Tlie original reading of this line was : "And one of these, the king, had on a crown" — 50. Brake. Tennyson is fond of archaic verb forms, of. clave, 1.37, spaJcr, 1. 78, hode, 1.410, holpen, 1.494, clrave, 1.400, xcrit, 1.1102, etc. 53. shingly scaur. .4 cliff or rocky slope covered with loose pebbles. A more common form of scaxir is scar, used by Tennyson in the bugle song in the Princess, by Scott, Lady of the Lake, Mar)nion, etc., and preserved in many place-names, like Scarbor- ough, Scarsdale. Shingle, from which the adjective shinyly, is coarse gravel found on beaches. Both words have interesting etymologies. C>5. The heathen. Cf. The Coming of Artlmr, 11.8-9. Also Ge- raint and Enid, 1.9GS, The Last Tournament, 11.92-98, Gumcvere, 11.134-36, 425-29. The heathen are the Saxon vikings from the continent. It was against these that the historic Arthur may have fought. Perhaps Tennyson had also vaguely in mind the incursions of the Danes. G7. still, 'always,' as in Shakespeare. 75. Hard on the river. An idiomatic use of hard, cf. 'hard by.' The river is the Thames. 7C). ths place .. this world's hugest.' London is mentioned only eight times by Malory, never as Arthur's chief city. let proclaim a joust. Caused to be proclaimed. The construc- tion is obsolete or poetic. Compare here the passage in Malory, XVTII, S. There is one "diamond joust," in the Morte Darthur, but it in no way corresponds to Tennyson's. It occurs after the Elaine episode, and is won by Sir Lavaine. "And thenne every day there was justes for a dyamond, who that justed best shold have a dyamond." 78. Guinevere Cf. the first four lines of The Coming of Arthur. In the Malrinofjion the name is Gwenhwyvar ; in Geoffrey of Mon- mouth, Guanhumara. The latter says she was "descended from a noble family of Romans . . . and in beauty surpassed all the women of the island." It is said of her in the Morte Darthur, "She is the fairest lady I know living," "She is one of the fairesst 48 NOTES that live." Malory's spelling of the name is Guenever, and this, with final -e, is followed by William Morris and Richard Hovey. There are many other forms of the name, e. g. C. de Troyes has Genievre, Ariosto and Petrarch Ginevra, Hughes Guenevera, Heber Ganora, etc. Tennyson's spelling seems to be an arbitrary modi- fication of Malory's Guenever. His sources for the proper names in the Idylls are Malory, Ellis, Geoffrey of Monmouth, or the Mahino i 230. Such be. Be for are is another intenlional archaisra. 248. Thefiower, etc. Cf. note on 1.78. 250-51. Cf. Mark, v, 2-5, Luke, viii, 29. Tennyson probably drew the suggestion of these lines from the Morte Darthur, where the account of Lancelot's marlness and flight into solitude is given, XT, 8-12. Cf. also The Holy Grail, 11.784-85. 2."')2. who was yet, etc. Whose conscience or soul yet lived. 253. the goodliest man. A phrase very common in the Morlr DarUiur. 257. 5eam'd, etc. Cf. "Theune the heremyte advysed hym bet- ter, and sawe by a wound on his cheke that he was Syr Lauucelot," Mai. XVIII, 13. 263. a smaller time, A time, like the present, less knightly and courteous. 264. Cf. note on 1.163. 265. meats. Meat meant originally food or nourishment of any kind, not flesh merely, till the modern period. The older meaning seems better here. 271. ten years before. For the time of this Idyll, cf. Introd. 279. Badonhill. Cf. note on 1.302. 284. Arthur's . . . wars. Tennyson refers to the twelve battles in which Arthur overthrew the heathen in The Coming of Arthur. 1.517, Balin and Balan, 1.85, The Holy Grail, 11.248, 311-12, and Guinevere, 1.429. The twelve battles named in the following passage are found in Nonnius (cf. Introd.), from whom Tennyson takes his account. They are not given elsewhere in this order, or with the same names. The places referred to have been variously identified. The legendary Arthur lived in Wales and Armoric Cornwall, and many, led by Dr. Guest {Orirjines Celticae) have identified the place- names in Nennius and Geoffrey of Monmouth with localities in the south and west of Britain. At present the preference is for the theory that the historic Arthur was a king, not of the south, but in Cumbria and South Scotland; and for localization of his battles in the north. So Mr. Skene (Foiir Ancient Books of Wales) and Mr. Stuart Glennie {Arthurian Localities). It need liardly be said that Tennyson did not mean the place-names men- tioned in the Idylls always to be identified vv'ith places in the real world. Whatever interest the solution of these topographical 52 NOTES problems may have for the antiquarian, the student of Tenny- son's poetry need trouble himself about them very little. 287. Qletn Primvm Jielluni fuit in ostium fliiminis quod dicitur Glcin. (Nenuius.) Earlier identified with the Glem in Lincoln- shire, or the Glen in the northern part of Northumberland ; now with the Glen in Ayrshire, or the Glevi in Devonshire. 288. four loud battles. The original reading was, "four wild battles.'* 280. Duglas Super aliud fiumen quod dicitur Duhglas. (Nen- nius.) This has been identified with the Dunglas south of Lo- thian ; the river Douglas in Lancashire ; or with the Douglas in Lennox, a stream llowing into Loch Lomond. Bassa. Scxtum, Itellum super fiumen quod vacatur Bassas. (Nen- uius.) Thought to be a rock called "The Bass," in the Frith of Forth, near North Berwick ; or the river Lusas in Hampshire ; or perhaps Bashall Brook, near Clithero. 291. Celidon the forest. Sepiimum fuit helium in silva CcU- donis, id est. Gat Coit Celidon. (Nennius.) The Calidonian for- est, or that of Englewood, extending from Penrith to Carlisle ; or perliaps a wood on the banks of the Carron in upper Tweeddale. 292. Castle Qurnion. Octavum fuit helium in castello Ouinnion, in quo Arthur portavit imaginem Sanctae Mariae perpetuae vir- ginis super humeros suos. (Nennius.) Other spellings are Gun- nion, .Gweunion. Variously localized: in Cornwall; in Durham; as tlie Roman station of Garionum in Norfolk ; and as Caer Gwen in Wedale. 293. our Lady's Head. The image of the Virgin Mary. Accord- ing to Nennius the image was borne by Arthur over his shoulders, cf. supra. Geoffrey of Monmouth (TX, Iv) says that the head was painted on Arthur's shield : "Also Arthur himself, having put on a coat of mail suitable to the grandeur of so powerful a king, placed a golden helmet upon his head, on which was engraven the figure of a dragon : and on his shoulders his shield called Priwen ; upon which the picture of the blessed Mary, mother of God, wns painted in order to put him frequently in mind of her." Compare also Wordsworth, Ecclesiastical t02. Diamond me, etc. For similar expressions cf. Richard II., II. iii, 87; Romeo and Juliet, III, v, 15;^; "clerk me no clerks," Iranhoe, XX; "But me no huts," Fielding, etc. 511. I dread me. 'J'he use of reflexive datives with intransitive verbs is very common in imitations of archaic constructions. Cf. "Sat him down," The Coming of Arthur, 1.155. Shakespeare writes, "I doubt me," "get thee away," "hie you home," etc. 513. The original reading of this line was : ■' 'Draw,' — and Lavaine drew, and that other gave" — - 517. Then came the hermit, etc. Malory says (XVIII, 13>, "Fur there were none heremytes in tho dayes but that they had ben men of worshyp and of prowesse, and tho heremytes helde grete housholde and refresshyd peple that were in distresse." 524. utmost North and West., According to Malory, among those who fought against the Round Table were the King of North Galis (North Wales j, the King of Northumberland, etc. 525. marches. Boi-der lands, frontiers. 528. sore wounded. As an adverb sore is now archaic or provin- cial. 543. Ourselves. Here the 'plural of royalty" ; so xis, probably, 1.54: "Ourselves will send it after. M'herefore take This diamond, and deliver it and return, And bring us tvhat he is, and how he fares." 54 7. carven flower. Cf. 11.441-42. 551. prince. Gawain is King Lot's son. 553. Gawain .. .The Courteous In the Mortc Durthitr Arthur's nephew, and one of his strongest and best known knights. Tennyson's Gawain is not Malory's, and Malory's is not the Ga- 58 NOTES wain of older tradition. Gwalclimai (Gavvain) in the Mabin- ogion is of higli and noble character. In Geoffrey of Monmouth, Walgan (Gawain) is Arthur's nephew and most distinguished knight ; his deeds almost eclipse the king's. The French verse j'omanccs often have Gawain for their hero, and exhibit him as the flower of knighthood, zealous to redress grievances, and al- most invincible in battle. So in the early English Oawayn and the Grcne KnigJit. Malory lowers the character and the high position of Gawain, but in the Morte Dartliur he is still a knight of dignity and loyalty. He suffers most in the French prose romances, becoming there cruel and perfidious. Tennyson keeps for Gawain his old title le courtois, 'The Courteous' (cf. Chaucer's "Gawayn with his old curteisye," The Squire's Talc), but develops his character unfavorably in the Idylls. His Gawain is worldly and unstable, "light-of-love" (Pelleas and Ettarre, 1.353) ; his courtesy has a "touch of traitor in it" {Lancelot and Elaine, 1.635) ; he is "reckless and irrever- ent" {Holy Grail, 1.853) ; "light in life and light in death" {Passing of Arth'ur, 1.50). For Gawain as a boy, cf. The Coming of Arthur, 11.319-21. 554. Tristram. Arthur's leading knight, after Lancelot, and almost Lancelot's equal. For Tristram in the Idylls, cf. The Last Tournament. Tennyson follows Malory's spelling ; Matthew Ar- nold and others the French spelling, Tristan. Geraint. A knight made conspicuous by Tennyson in his Idyll The Marriage of Geraint, and its sequel Geraint and Enid, both based ou the Mahinogion. Geraint is nor mentioned in the Morte Darthur. 555. Gareth The hero of the Idyll Gareth and Lynctte. In the Morte Darthur he is the youngest son of King Lot of Orkney. His brothers are Gawain, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Modred. In the Idylls, Gareth is the only son of King Lot who remains faithful to Arthur. LI. 555-56 read in the 1859 edition of the Idyll : "And Lamorack a good knight, but therewithal Sir Modred's brother, of a crafty house" — According to Malory, Lamorack (Lamorak de Galys, i. e. Wales) is not the brother of -Modred but of Percivale. His place in the Round Table narratives is high. Cf. VII, 9, where he is ranked with Lancelot and Tristi-am. 556. riodred. Tennyson follows Geoffrey of Monmouth's spell- ing, instead of Malory's, which is Mordred. Modred is Arthur's NOTES 59 nephew, both in Geoffrey's account and in the Morte DartJiur, and through his hatred for Arthur, and his ambition for the throne, liecomes the cliief agent in the lying's downfall. In the Idylls he plays a slighter and more ignoble part. The Round Table is wrecked without his agency, although it is he who, leagued with the Saxons, lights against Arthur in his last battle, and gives him his death wound. Tennyson makes Modred, as in the romance of MerlJn (cf. Ellis, Early Erujlisli Metrical Romances) the son of liOt and Bellicent. 5r>8. Wroth, etc. (iawain volunteers the quest of the stranger knight, in the Morte DartJiur. 567. tarriance. Poetic and infrequent. 572. like. Counterpart, person resembling him. Often used as a substantive, cf. 'his like,' 'like cures like,' etc. 584. allow. Cf. note on 1.110. .■'>91. Albeit Used in concessive clauses. ME. al he it, 'al- liiovigh.' fantastical. Full of romantic whims. 592. So fine a fear. 'Fine' here means 'superfine.' The king thinks Lancelot overpunctilious or sensitive. G05. Tennyson seems hero to have taken his suggestion from Ellis (cf. Introd. p. xvii) : "She I'etired to her chamber and aban- doned herself to the most violent transports of jealousy." (p. 159.) It does not come from the Morte DartJiur. In the 1S59 edition, this line read, "Moved to her chamber." 611. After narrating Arthur's return to Camelot and his meet- ing with the queen, 'J'ennyson reverts to Gawain. In Malory it is Sir Bors, Lancelot's kinsman, not Arthur, v/ho talks with Guin- evere of Lancelot's v/earing the red sleeve. The interview takes place after Gawain has found Elaine and returned with his news. The queen accuses Lancelot to Bors, who defends him, and finally undertakes his quest. 614. In the Morte DartJnrr, Gawain's coming to Astolat takes place after his fruitless search for Lancelot. He does not proffer love to Elaine, but is loyal to Lancelot. Possibly Tennyson fol- lowed the version in the French prose romance of Lancelot, where Gawain's attitude is much as in the Idyll ; or he may have as- signed the role independently. 618. parted. 'Departed.' Fr. imrtir. Depart formerly meant 'separate.' Part and depart have exchanged meanings. 60 NOTES 626. ridd'n a random round. In 18.j9 this line read, "but liad ridden xvilOhj round," etc. 628. us. Probably the plural of rank or authority, like our, 1.632. 629. Originally, "And ride no longer tvildly, noble Prince" — 642. play upon her. Cf. 1.208, and Hamlet, III, ii "You would play upon me. . . Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?" 652. falcon. A hawk used in falconry. Strictly the female; the male is called tercel or ticrcclct. Falconry was a favorite amuse- ment of kings and nobles in mediaeval Europe. Falcons have strong beaks and claws, and were trained to hunt other birds. The owner rode with the hooded falcon on his wrist. When game was discovered, the hood was removed and the falcon rose above its destined prey, swooped down on it, seized it, and bore it back to the owner. Cf. Merlin and Vivien, 11.93-134, for an account of a falcon hunt. 6.53. hern. A contraction of heron, with the same meaning. 659. Cf. note on 1.187-88. 660. Ramp. Generally an adverb. The usual adjective is ram- pant. The other positions in heraldry are snltant, 'leaping,' couch- ant, 'lying,' and dormant, 'sleeping.' field. In heraldry the surface of the shield on which the ar- morial bearings are depicted. smote his thigh. An action generally expressing surprise or amusement. In Homer it expressed grief or dismay. So Ez. 21-12, Jer. 31-19.' 671. Meseem'd. Archaic. Cf. Rossetti's hcrseemed. The Blessed Damozcl. 671-74. Note the repetition of know, here, cf. note on 1.163. 674. Originally, ''Mcthinls there is none other," etc. 675. God's death. Often abbreviated to 'sdeath.' So God's blood i'sblood), God's wounds ('swoons), etc. Cf. note on 1.24. 682. The association of changing leaf with changing love is found also in Tristram's song in The Last Tournament, 11.275-81. 683. enow An old variant of enouxjli. Frequent in Shakespeare. An older reading has enough. Originally the line read : "May it he so? Why then, far be it from me" — NOTES 61 700. lightly. Here, 'in a light hearted manner.' A word fre- (luently used by Malory, "ye will not repent so lightly,"' "lightly he smote,'' etc. 707. our courtesy. The courtesy which you teach us to strive for. 71.J. For twenty strokes of the blood. For twenty pulse-beats. 724. Predoom'd. I'assed sentence on her beforeliand. 728. Originally, "Marr'd her friend's point/' etc. 780. a nlne=days' wonder. A wonder lasted proverbially nine days. Cf. As You Like It, III, ii, 184; Henry VI., Ill, ii, 113-14. 739. wormwood. A plant or woody herb proverbial for its bit- terness, t'he word was transformed by folk-etymology from OE. wcrnwtl, and had originally nothing to .do with worm or wood. Cf. Ger. wcrmuth, Fr. vermoutli. 748. let me hence. The infinitive of a verb of 'going' omitted, as often in Old and later English. 766. wit ye well. Very common in Malory, "Now wit ye well," "he wist well," etc. 767. Right fain. Fain, 'glad,' is now archaic or poetic. Right was earlier in very common use as an intensive adverb. It re- mains in the standard speech in a few expressions like "right reverend," "right honorable," etc. 77.3. Lightly. Cf. note on 1.700. 7S4. Cf. 1.398. 788. field of flowers. Cf. 11.1134, 1170, 1220. Also Introd. p. xxiii. 795. strange statued gate Cf. 1.839. Called the Gate of the Three Queens, The Holy Grail, 11.3.38-59. Read the passage in Garcth and Lijnettc, 11.209-26, describing it in detail. 797. still rich city. Cf. 11.840-42, and note on 1.23. Camelot is similarly described in Gurcih and Li/nctte, 11.296-302, and in The Holy Grail, 11.227-29, and 339 f£. 806. In 1859. "the cell in which he slept." 812. dolorous. Frequently used by Malory, "dolorous stroke," "damsel dolorous,'' etc. 836. he not regarded. For similar archaic or inverted word order cf. "As you that not obey me," Gcraint and Enid, 1.151 ; '•Why ye not wear," TJie Last Tournament, 1.36. 62 NOTES 840. to her kin. Cf. Malory. Tennyson, with what Mr. Chur- ton Collins and Mr. Littledale call perhaps needless concessions to the conventionalities, makes Elaine go every night to the house of her kinsfolk and return in the morning to the hermitage. In the account in Ellis (p. 15G), Lancelot lodges at Winchester be- fore the tournament at the house of Lavaine's aunt, in Malory with a "ryche burgeis." Possibly the suggestion of the kinsfolk at Camelot came to Tennyson from Ellis. 849. =feverous. Poetic for feverish. 855. Did kindlier unti> men Malory's expression. 857. simples. Medicinal herbs, so called because each herb was sxipposed to possess its own particular virtiie, and hence to con- stitute a simple remedy. Simples in this usage is a substantivated adjective, like nolAe, iicvcs, goods, ills, etc. It is found commonly in the plural. 802. held her tenderly. Hold in the sense of 'think' or 'con- sider' is very common in ilaiory, "thou boldest me for thy ser- vant," etc. SG7. peradventure. M'erchance,' 'perhaps.' OF. par avcniurc. Common in Malory. "Peradventure, said Balin," "peradventure, tlioii.;;:h lie hate you," etc. 870. straiten'd him. Confined him. 872. faith unfaithful, etc. Faith to Guinevere involving false- ness to Arthur. LI. 871-72 are among the most widely quoted in the Idylls, and v,'ell illustrate Tennyson's command of oxymoron and epigram. They recall what Samuel Butler (in his Cat and Ptiss) said of Lothario: "At once his passion was both false and true, And the more false, the more in earnest grew." • 877. Origiimll.-',-, "the sivcct image," etc. 898. burthen, liofraiu. Strictly the 'burthen' (burden) is the undersong, or accompaniment, i. e., is sung throughout, not at regular intervals like a refrain. 900. To A^tolat . . . rode, etc. Tennyson has much condensed Malory's narrative of Lancelot's stay at the hermitage, and omitted many incidents, such as the coming of Sir Bors, their conversation concerning the Queen's wrath and concerning Elaine, tile breaking out afresh of Lancelot's wound, etc. NOTES G3 005. the victim's flowers, etc The garlaucl wreathed on the head of the victim led to sacrilice. Cf. passages in Homer. 910 11. I make My will of yours. Your wishes shall be mine. 912. what 1 will I can. Can do. 920. In the 1859 edition, "Seeing I must go to-day,"' etc. In the account in JNIaloty, there is no sign of the struggle between p:iaine's wish to speak and the sensitive modesty forbidding her. Nevertheless the parallel between the passages is close. 939. quit. Repay. 953. beyond these IS. Lancel'jt is the son of King Ban, whoso realm, Ilerwick, ]\Ialoi'y mentions as across the sea. "And so they s hypped at Cardyf and sayled vnto Berwyk somme men call Bayen, [i. e., Bayounel and somme men calle it Beaume where the wyn of Beaume is," XX, 18. The French romance of Merlin says that Benoyc [i. e., B.enwick|. the realm of King Ban, is in Lesser Brittany. 964. a flash. Cf. 1.944. 965. I fear me. Cf. note on 1.511. 977. by tact of love. I'.y love's intuition. 985. still. Cf. note on 1.67. 986. pictured wall. Wall coverod with figured tapestry. 995. sallow-rifted glooms. l»iisk of evening broken by streaks of yellow. 1000. Each of the Idylls, with the exception of Geraint and Enid, The Holy Grail, and The Passing of Arthur, contains a little troubadour-like song, like Elaine's "Song of Love and Death." The lines are of the same length as the other lines of the poem, and show a repetition and weaving in and out of words and thoughts suggesting the rondels and triolets of French troubadour poetry, although there is no conformity with these in the rhyme scheme and the meter. Most of the lyrics in the Idylls are in three-line stanzas, in tliis regard resembling the tercet rhymes of the Welsh bardic poems, or of Breton song (see Merlin's "rid- dling triplets," The Corning of Arthur, 1.402). Cf. "Blow trum- pet, for the world is white with May !" The Coming of Arthur, 1.481 ; "O morning star that smilest in the blue." Garetli and Lynctic. 1.974 ; "Turn Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud," Marriage of Geraint, 1.347 ; "In love, if love be iove, if love be ours." McrJiu and Yiricn, 1.385 ; "Late, late, so late !" Cninerrrc, I. TOG. These are in three line stanzas^ the fii-^;t two 64 NOTES rhyming, and the thii'd lines either ending in the same word or rhyming with one another. The form is still further varied in "The fire of heaven has ki'l'd the barren cold," Baliu and Balan, 1.434 ; "A ]ose, but one, no other rose had I," Pclleas and Ettarre, 1.391 ; and Tristram's song, "Ay, ay, O, ay — the winds that bend the brier," in The Last Tournament, 1.735. 1012. scaled her voice. Mounted tlu^ scale, rose in pitch. 1015. . hantom of the house. F.elief in the apparition of a tall woman in white, who shrieks about the house, giving warning of a coming death, is still common, especially in Ireland, where tlie apparition is called the "Ilanshee." 1019. shrilling. Tennyson often uses sJirUl as a verb, cf. Tlic Fassinfj of Arthur, 11.33, 41. 1036. far up the shining flood. Cf. note on Camelot, 123. 1040. Cf. 1.692. 1061. an. Cf. note on 1.218. 1066. Originally, "To which the gentle sister made reply" — 1077. Cf. note on 1.872. 1084. pass. Pass away. 1093. shrive me clean. Confess myself and receive absolution. 1096. Besought Lavaine, etc. In the Morte Darthur it is Torre who Avrites the letter. Otherwise the passages are much the same. 1102. writ. Common in the eighteenth century in the preterite singular, instead of wrote. Here it replaces written m the participle. 1115. a barge. Cf. the request of Percivale's sister (Morte Dar- thur, XVII, 11), "as soone as I am dede put me in a bote at the next haven, and lete me goo as adventure will lede me." The custom of burial by boat was very old, cf. Beowulf, 11.26-37. 1129. dole. Archaic and poetic. Common in Malory, "King Lot made great dole," "All the court made great dole," etc. 1130. Cf. 1.411. 11.".4. shone Fun=summer. Shone in (he sunlight of midsummer. 113r>. creature. Servitor. Now commonly used in a depreci- atory or pejotiitive sense, 'tool,' 'cat's-pav,'.' 1141-42. a lily ... The silken case. Tennyson varies from Malory in the addition of the lily and the case. Cf. also Elaine's direc- tions, 11.110010. NOTES 65 11 46. dumb old servitor. In Malorj- (XVIII, 20) the 'Servitor tcould not speak. 1147. Oar'd bythedumb. Oor is used as a verb in TJic Princess also. In ttie 185!) edition tlie line read, "titvcr'd by the dumb," etc. 1148-49. in her left, etc. In Malory the letter is in her right hand. Cf. al.so "Thenne Syr Percyuale made a letter of a'l that she had holpen hem as in straunge aduentures, and put hit in her ryght hand and soo leyd her in a barge, and couerd it with blak sylke." Mai. XVII, 11. 1155. That day Sir Lancelot, etc. Elaine died on the eleventh day after Lancelot's departure for the court, cf. 1.1126. Tenny- son probably ordained Lancelot's delay, if he thought of the point at all, in order that the appearance of the barge might be at the effective moment indicated in 11.1230-35. In the account in Ellis, Lancelot has no opportunity to seek the Queen for several days, because unable to free himself from the company of friends. 1167. In 1850 !:his line read, '"The shadow of a piece," etc. 1170. oriel. A projecting window in old buildings. 1172. They met, etc. Tennyson followed Ellis here. Cf. note on 1.1197. In Malory there is no interview between Lance/ot and the (^ueen before the coming of the barge. Beside the two inter- views in this Idyl] another is sketched, Balin and Balan, 11.239-75. 1178. cygnet. Young swan. The down of the cygnet is dusky. The meaning here is, "a neck so white that in comparison the Villi te neck of the swan seems even darker than the dusky neck of its young." 1185. absoluter. Comparatives in -cr and -est are often used in poetry where ordinary prose usage would prefer comparatives with more and most. Cf. Swinburne's irretcheder, patienter, splen- flider, etc. 1197. There is nothing corresponding to this scene in Maloi-y. For the suggestion of Guinevere's speech, cf. Ellis, p. 159: "Guenever . . . thought herself fully .iustlfied in reproaching him for his passion for the maid of Ascalot ; which she observed, however justified by that lady's superior charms, unfortunately tended to lessen his reputation by giving him a disgust for those nobler pursuits in which his eminence over all the knights of the world \xa.s hitherto so well established. She, however, trusted to his honour, and hoped that his new passion would never induce him to betray . . . one who however inferior to her rival in beauty, had at least proved the sincerity and constancy of her affection!" 66 NOTES 1224. Or hers or mine. Or . . . or, tov either . . . or, lohether . . . or, is archaic or poetic. 1227. Flung them, etc. In The Last Tournament, 11.35-4r,, Guin- evere thus explains their loss : "... but, O my Queen, I muse Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone Those"^ diamonds that I rescued from the tarn, And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear." "Would rather you had let them fall," she cried, "Plunge and be lost — ill-fated as they were, A bitterness to me ! — ye look amazed, Not knowing they were lost as soon as given — - Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out Above the river — that unhappy child Past in her bai'ge ..." 11'.30. In 1859 this line read : "Then while Sir Lancelot leant, in half disgusV 1247. Fairy Queen, etc. Cf. 1.423. The Coming of Arthur tells the various rumors of Arthur's coming and going. Compare also Merlin's sajing "From the great deep to the great deep he goes," ib. 1.410. In The Passing of Arthur, 11.361-440, is described the coming of the three queens who bear him away to Avilion. Cf. also Gareth and Lunette, 11.198-200 : "Lord, we have heard from our wise man at home To Northward, that this King is not the King, But only changeling out of Fairyland, . . ." 1250. For some d J hold, etc. Cf. The Coming of Arthur, 11.418-21: "... and Merlin in our time Hath spoken also, not in jest, and sworn Tho' men may v/ound him that he will not die But pass, again to come ; . . ." Also Arthur's words in The Passing of Arthur, 1.28. "I pac-s but shall not die." William of Malmesbury, about 1125, is apparently the first to express belief in Arthur's second coming. Malory writes (XXI, 7) : "Yet somme men say in many partyes of Englond that kyng Arthur is not deed, but had by the wylle of our Lord Jhesu in to another place ; and men say that he shal come ageyn, and he shal Wynne the holy crosse. I wyl not say that it shal be so, but rather I wyl say here in this world he chaunged his lyf. But many men say that thei-e is wryton upon his tombe this vers : Hie jacet Artliurus Rex quondam. Rexque futurus." NOTES 67 ►Similar belief in the return at a critical time of a king or war- ]-ior to lead his people to victory is recorded among many races. Notable instances are the legends of Charlemagne in Odenburg, Kaiser Friedrich II. in the castle of Kyffhauser, Holger the Dane in Elsinore, etc. 1256. Percivale. Cf. the first lines of the Idyll The Holy Grail. For Percivale's part in the Grail legend, cf. Introd. In Malory he is called Sir Percival de Galis [Galys, Walys, or Wales]. The corresponding name in the MaMnogion is Peredur. Since the Conte del Graal of Crestien de Troyes, the legend of Percivale has had wide popularity. It is now best known, perhaps, through Wagner's opera Parsifal. 1257. Sir Galahad. Galahad is the type of the spotless and saint-like in the Morte Darthur, and is the only one of Arthur's knights who achieves the quest of the Grail. Tennyson (The Holy Grail, 11.1.34-35) has him always wear white armor. Compare the poet's early lyric Bir Galahad, published in 1842. In the Mortc Darthur Arthur sends Sir Brandiles and Sir Agravaine, in- stead of Sir Percivale and Sir Galahad. 1262. Arthur spied, etc. In the Morte Darthur, it is the Queen who first sees the letter. 12G4. Compare the letter in the Morte Dartliur. 1299. Sea was her wrath, etc. Her wrath yet worked, like the sea, which remains rough after ithe storm has passed. 1313. joyance. Poetic. Cf. joyauncc, Mrs. Browning's Rhyme of the Duchess May, etc. 13J5. Arthur answer'd. Cf. his words in Malory. For Elaine's burial cf. also Ellis, 162, ''The King immediately gave orders for the interment of the lady with all the honours suited to her rank." 1319. that shrine, etc. The "shrine" is Westminster. 1327. half=forgotten kings. The tombs of Edward the Confessor, Henry III., Edward I., etc., are in Westminster. The abbey stands on the site of an ancient Saxon church, built by Sebert, a king of the West Saxons, in the seventh century. According to tradition, there was a still more ancient church on the site, dating from the second century A.D. 1345. There is little or no correspondence between the remain- ing lines of the poem and the Morte DartJiur, 68 NOTES 1343-46. These lines lead in 1859 : "But Arthur who beheld his cloiidy 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' " — affiance. Trust. Cf. Malory, I, 3, "He made affiance to the king." Used by Shakespeare. 1353-54. These lines read originally : "... but now I would to God, For the ivild people say wild things of thee" — By the change (as pointed out by Dr. Jones, Groioth of the Idylls) Arthur is represented not as closing his ears to testimony, but as attributing the trouble in Lancelot's eyes to "homelessness." 1368. Cf. Tristram's song in The Last Tournament. 1389. crescent. Cf. note on 1.446. 1393-96. These lines read originally : "Lancelot, whom the Lady of the lake Stole from his mother-r-os the story runs — She chanted snatches of mysterious song" — ■ Lancelot is introduced very abruptly in the Morte Darthur, and the story of his early life and coming to Arthur's court omitted. He is called Launcelot du Lake, however, (II, 8). Tennyson intro- duced from another source the legend of his carrying off by the Dame du Lac., whence his surname. It is first told in the German Lanzelet of the twelfth century by Ulrich von Zatzikhoven, and in the French prose romance of the thirteenth century. Tennyson probably derived his version from Ellis, pp. 143-44, or else from Dunlop's History of Fiction (1814), T, vii. When Tennyson introduced allegory into the Idylls, he gave this Lady of the Lake, whom he now made symbolical of religion, a more spiritual character. Hence probably his changes in this passage, in 1869, of stole to caught, and song to hymns. Tenny- son's Lady of the Lake is not to be identified with any of the various ladies of the lake in Malory, assuredly not with Nimue, modified to Vivien, of Tennyson's Merlin and Vivien. 1410. not without. Without is not very correctly used in the sense of unless or except, unless in poetry. Cf. "Marry . . . not Without the prince be willing," Much Ado, etc.. Ill, ill. 69 1418. die a holy man. After Guinevere went to the nunnery at Almesbary, Lancelot entered a monastery. Cf. the Morte Darthur, XXI, 10. And atte last he [Sir La,uucelot] was ware of an ermytage and a ehappel stode betwyxte two clyffes, and than he herde a lytel belle rynge to masse . . . And he that sange masse was the bysshop of Caunterburye. Bothe the bysshop and Sir Bedwer knewe Syr Launcelot, and they spake to gyders after masse, but whan Syr Bedwere had tolde his tale al hole, Syr Launcelottes hert almost braste for sorowe, and Sir Launcelot threwe his armes abrode. and sayd, "Alas! who may truste thys world V" And than^ he knelyd doun on his knee, and prayed the bysshop to shryve* hym and assoyle hym ; and than he besought the bysshop that he myght be hys brother. Than the bysshop sayd, "I wyll gladly," and there he put an habyte upon Syr Launcelot, and there he servyd God day and nyght with prayers and fastynges. At Lancelot's death. Sir Ector de Marys speaks this eulogy (XXI, 13) : "A, Launcelot, thou were hede of al Crysten knyghtes. And now I dare say thou Sir Launcelot, there thou lyest, that thou were never matched of erthely knyghtes hande, and thou were the curtest knyght that ever bare shelde, and thou were the truest frende to thy lovar that ever bestrade hors. and thou were the trewest lover of a synful man that ever loved woman, and thou were the kyndest man that ever strake with swerde, and thou were the goodelyest persone that ever cam emonge prees of knyghtes, and thou was the mekest man and the jentyllest that ever ete in halle emonge ladyes, and thou were the sternest knyght to thy mortal foo that ever put spere in the breste." APPENDIX ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE "MORTE DARTHUR" Book XVIII, Chapter viii. Thus it passed on tyl Oure Lady Daye, Assumpcyon. Within a xv dayes of that feest the kynge lete crye a grete justes and a turnement that shold be at that daye att Camelot, that is Wynchester. And the Ivynge lete crye that he and the Ivynge of Scottes wold juste ageynst alle that wold come ageynst hem. . . Soo kynge Arthur made hym redy to departe to thise justys and wold have had the quene with hym ; but at that tyme she wold not, she said, for she was seke and myghte not ride at that tyme. "That me i-epenteth," sayd the kynge, "for this seven yere ye sawe not suche a noble felaushyp to gyders, excepte at Wytsontyde whan Galahad departed from the courte." "Truly," sayd the quene to the kynge, "ye must holde me excused. I maye not be there, and that me repenteth." And many demed the quene wold not be there by cause of Sir Launcelot du Lake, for Sire Launcelot wold not ryde with the kynge ; for he said that he was not hole of the wound the whiche Sire Mador had gyven hym. . . . Soo whan the kynge was departed, the quene called Sir Launcelot to her, and said thus, "Sire Launcelot, ye are gretely to blame thus to holde yow behynde my lord. What trowe ye, what will youre enemyes and myne saye and deme? nought els but, 'See how Sire Launcelot holdeth hym ever behynde the kyng, and soo doth the quene, for that they wold have their pleasyr to gyders' ; and thus wylle they saye," sayd the quene to Syr Launcelot, "have ye noo doubte thereof." ix. "Madame," said Syr Launcelot, "I allowe your wytte, it is of late come syn ye were wyse, and therefor, madame, at this tyme I wille be rulyd by your counceylle, and thys nyghte I wylle take my rest, and to morowe by tyme I wyll take my waye toward Wynchestre. But wete yow wel," sayd Sir Launcelot to the quene, "that at that justes I wille be ageynst the kynge and ageynst al his felaushyp." "Ye may there doo as ye lyst," sayd the quene, "but by my counceylle ye shalle not be ageynst youre kyng and youre felaushyp, for therin ben ful many hard knyghtes of youre blood, as ye wote wel ynough, hit nedeth not to reherce them." "Madame," said Syre Launcelot, "I praye yow that ye be not dlspleasyd with me, for I wille take the adventure that God Wylle sende me.'* 70 APPENDIX 71 And soo upon the morne erly Syre Launcelot departed. And tlienne he rode soo moche untyl he came to Astohit, that is. Gyl- ford, and there hit happed hym in the eventyde he cam to an old tjarons place, that hyght Sir Bernard of Astolat. . . Soo whan Sire Launcelot was in his lodgynge, and unarmed hym in his chamber, the okle baron and heremyte came to hym makynge his reverence, and welcomed hym in the best maner, but the olde knyght knewe not Sire Launcelot. "Fair sir," said Sir Launcelot, "I wold praye yow to lene me a shelde that were not openly knowen, for myn is wel knowen." "Sir," said his hoost, "ye shalle have your desyre. . . Sire wete yow wel I have two sones that were but late made knyghtes, and the eldest hyghte Sir Tirre, and he was hurt that same day he was made knyghte that he may not ryde, and his shelde ye shalle have. . . And my yongest sone hyght Lavayne, and yf hit please yow he shalle ryde with yow unto that justes ; for moche my herte gyveth unto yow that ye shold be a noble knyghte, therfor I praye yow telle me your name," said Sir Bernard. "As for that," sayd Sire Launcelot, "ye must holde me excused as at this tyme." This old baron had a doughter that tyme that was called that tyme the fayre mayden of Astolat. And ever she beheld Sir Launcelot wonderfully. And as the book sayth, she cast suche a love unto Sir Launcelot that she coude never withdrawe her love ; wherfore she dyed, and her name was Elayne le Blank. Soo thus as she cam to and fro, she was soo bote in her love that she be- soughte Syr Launcelot to were upon hym at the justes a token of hers. "Faire damoysel," said Sir Launcelot, "and yf I graunte yow that, ye may saye I doo more for your love than ever I dyd for lady or damoysel." Thenne he remembryd hym that he wold goo to the .justes desguysed ; and by cause he had never fore that tyme borne noo manere of token of no damoysel, thenne he said, "Faire mayden, I wylle graunte yow to were a token of yours upon myn helmet, and therfor what it is shewe it me." "Sir," she said, "it is a reed sieve of myn, of scarlet wel enbroudred with grete perlys" ; and soo she brought it hym. Soo Syre Launcelot received it and sayd, "Never dyd I erst soo moche for no damoy- sel." And thenne Sir Launcelot bitoke the fair mayden his shelde in kepyng, and praid her to kepe that untyl that he came ageyne. X. ... And soo . . . Sir Launcelot and Sire Lavayne made \ hem redy to ryde, and eyther of hem had whyte sheldes, and the reed sieve, Sir Launcelot lete cary with hym. And soo they 72 APPENDIX tooke their leve at Syr Bernard the old baron, and att his doughter the faire maydeu of Astolat. And thenne they rode soo long til that they came to Camelot. . . But there Sir Launeelot was lodged pryvely, by the raeanes of Sir Lavayne, with a ryche bvir- geis, that no man in that tonne was ware what they were, and soo they reposed them there til oure Lady Day, Assumpcyon, as the grete feest sholde be. Soo thenne trumpets blewe unto the felde, and kynge Arthur was sette on hyghe upon a skafhold to beholde who dyd best. But these kynges and this duke were passyng weyke to holde ageynsc kynge Arthurs party, for with hym were the noblest knyghtes of the world. . . Soo there began a stronge assaile upon bothe partyes. xi. "Now," sayd Syre Launeelot, "and ye wille helpe me a lytel, ye shalle see yonder felaushyp that chaseth now these men in oure syde, that they shal go as fast bakward as they wente forward." "Sir, spare not," said Sire Lavayne, "for I shall doo what I maye." Thenne Sire Launeelot and Sire Lavayne cam in at the thyckest of the prees. . . Thenne the party that was ayenst kynge Arthur were wel comforted, and thenne they helde hem to gyders that before hand were sore rebuked. Thenne Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Marys, and Sir Lyonel called unto them the knyghtes of their blood. . . Soo these nyne knyghtes of Sir Launcelots kin threste in myghtely, for they were al noble knyghtes ; and they of grete hate and despyte that they had unto hym, thoughte to re- buke that noble knyght Sir Launeelot and Sir Lavayne, for they knewe hem not. And soo they cam hurlynge to gyders and smote doune many knyghtes of Northgalys and of Northumberland. And whanne Sire Launeelot sawe them fare soo, he gat a spere in his hand, and there encountred with hym al attones Syr Bors, Sir Ector, and Sire Lyonel, and alle they thre smote Sir Launcelots hors to the erthe, and by misfortune Sir Bors smote Syre Launeelot thurgh the shelde into the syde, and the spere brake and the hede lefte stylle in his syde. Whan Sir Lavayne sawe his maister lye on the ground, he raune to the kynge of Scottes and smote hym to the erthe, and by grete force he took his hors and brought hym to Syr Launeelot, and maulgre of them al he made hym to mounte upon that hors ; and thenne Launeelot gat a spere in his hand, and there he smote Syre Bors hors and man to the erthe. In the same wyse he served Syre Ector and Syre Lyonel, and Syre La- vayne smote doune Sir Blamore de Ganys. And thenne Sir Launeelot drewe his suerd, for he felte hym self so sore y-hurte APPENDIX 73 that he wende there to have had his dethe. . . And thenne afterward he hurled in to the thyckest prees of them alle, and dj^d ther the merveyloust dedes of armes that ever man sawe or herde speke of ; and ever Sire Lavayne the good knyghte with hym. And there Sire liauncelot witli his suerd smote doune and pulled doune, as the Frensshe book maketh mencyon, moo than thyrtty knyghtes, and the moost party were of the Table Round. . . . xii. ''Mercy, Jhesu," said Syr Gawayne to Arthur, "I merveil what knyghte that he is with the reed sieve." "Syr," saide kynge Arthur, "ho wille be knowen or he departe." And thenne the kynge blewe unto lodgynge, and the pryce was gyven by herowdes unto the knyghte with the whyte shelde, that bare the reed sieve. Thenne came the kynge with the honderd knyghtes, the kynge of Northgalys, and Sir Galahaut the haute prince, and sayd unto Sire Launcelot, "Faire knyght, God the blesse, for moche have ye done this day for us, therfor we praye yow that ye wille come with us, that ye may receyve the honour and the pryce as ye have worshipfully deserved it." "My faire lordes," saide Syre Launce- lot," wete yow wel yf I have deserved thanke, I have sore bought hit, and that me repenteth, for I am lyke never to escape with my lyf : therfor, faire lordes, I pray yow that ye wille suffer me to de- parte where me lyketh, for I am sore hurte. I take none force of none honour, for I had lever to repose me than all the world." And ther with al he groned pytously, and rode a grete wallop away ward fro them, untyl he came under a woodes syde. And whan he sawe that he was from the felde nyghe a myle, that he was sure he myghte not be sene, thenne he said with an hygh voys, "O gentyl knyght Sir Lavayne, helpe me that this truncheon were oute of my syde, for it stycketh so sore that it nyhe sleeth me." "O myn owne lord," said Sir Lavayne, "I wold fayn do that myght please yow, but I drede me sore, and I pull oute the truncheon, that ye shalle be in perylle of dethe." "I charge you," said Sir Launcelot, "as ye love me drawe hit oute." And there with alle he descended from his hors and ryght soo dyd Sir Lavayn, and forth with al Sir Lavayn drewe the truncheon out of his syde ; and he gaf a grete shryche and a merveillous grysely grone, and the blood braste oute nyghe a pint at ones, that at the last he sanke doun, and so swouned pale and dedely. "Alias," sayd Sire Lavayne, "what shalle I do?" And thenne he torned Sir Launce- lot in to the wynde, but soo he laye there nyghe half an houre as he had ben dede. And so at the laste Syre 'Launcelot caste up his eyen, and sayd, "O Lavayn, helpe me that I were on ray hors. for <4 APPENDIX here is fast by withiu this two myle a gentyl heremyte, that som- tyme was a fulle noble l