Alfred Tennyson

Idylls of the King (Unabridged)


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he could, not as he would, the King

       Made feast for, saying, as they sat at meat,

      ‘A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas.

       Ye come from Arthur’s court. Victor his men

       Report him! Yea, but ye — think ye this king —

       So many those that hate him, and so strong,

       So few his knights, however brave they be —

       Hath body enow to hold his foemen down?’

      ‘O King,’ she cried, ‘and I will tell thee: few,

       Few, but all brave, all of one mind with him;

       For I was near him when the savage yells

       Of Uther’s peerage died, and Arthur sat

       Crowned on the dais, and his warriors cried,

       “Be thou the king, and we will work thy will

       Who love thee.” Then the King in low deep tones,

       And simple words of great authority,

       Bound them by so strait vows to his own self,

       That when they rose, knighted from kneeling, some

       Were pale as at the passing of a ghost,

       Some flushed, and others dazed, as one who wakes

       Half-blinded at the coming of a light.

      ‘But when he spake and cheered his Table Round

       With large, divine, and comfortable words,

       Beyond my tongue to tell thee — I beheld

       From eye to eye through all their Order flash

       A momentary likeness of the King:

       And ere it left their faces, through the cross

       And those around it and the Crucified,

       Down from the casement over Arthur, smote

       Flame-colour, vert and azure, in three rays,

       One falling upon each of three fair queens,

       Who stood in silence near his throne, the friends

       Of Arthur, gazing on him, tall, with bright

       Sweet faces, who will help him at his need.

      ‘And there I saw mage Merlin, whose vast wit

       And hundred winters are but as the hands

       Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege.

      ‘And near him stood the Lady of the Lake,

       Who knows a subtler magic than his own —

       Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful.

       She gave the King his huge cross-hilted sword,

       Whereby to drive the heathen out: a mist

       Of incense curled about her, and her face

       Wellnigh was hidden in the minster gloom;

       But there was heard among the holy hymns

       A voice as of the waters, for she dwells

       Down in a deep; calm, whatsoever storms

       May shake the world, and when the surface rolls,

       Hath power to walk the waters like our Lord.

      ‘There likewise I beheld Excalibur

       Before him at his crowning borne, the sword

       That rose from out the bosom of the lake,

       And Arthur rowed across and took it — rich

       With jewels, elfin Urim, on the hilt,

       Bewildering heart and eye — the blade so bright

       That men are blinded by it — on one side,

       Graven in the oldest tongue of all this world,

       “Take me,” but turn the blade and ye shall see,

       And written in the speech ye speak yourself,

       “Cast me away!” And sad was Arthur’s face

       Taking it, but old Merlin counselled him,

       “Take thou and strike! the time to cast away

       Is yet far-off.” So this great brand the king

       Took, and by this will beat his foemen down.’

      Thereat Leodogran rejoiced, but thought

       To sift his doubtings to the last, and asked,

       Fixing full eyes of question on her face,

       ‘The swallow and the swift are near akin,

       But thou art closer to this noble prince,

       Being his own dear sister;’ and she said,

       ‘Daughter of Gorlois and Ygerne am I;’

       ‘And therefore Arthur’s sister?’ asked the King.

       She answered, ‘These be secret things,’ and signed

       To those two sons to pass, and let them be.

       And Gawain went, and breaking into song

       Sprang out, and followed by his flying hair

       Ran like a colt, and leapt at all he saw:

       But Modred laid his ear beside the doors,

       And there half-heard; the same that afterward

       Struck for the throne, and striking found his doom.

      And then the Queen made answer, ‘What know I?

       For dark my mother was in eyes and hair,

       And dark in hair and eyes am I; and dark

       Was Gorlois, yea and dark was Uther too,

       Wellnigh to blackness; but this King is fair

       Beyond the race of Britons and of men.

       Moreover, always in my mind I hear

       A cry from out the dawning of my life,

       A mother weeping, and I hear her say,

       “O that ye had some brother, pretty one,

       To guard thee on the rough ways of the world.”’

      ‘Ay,’ said the King, ‘and hear ye such a cry?

       But when did Arthur chance upon thee first?’

      ‘O King!’ she cried, ‘and I will tell thee true:

       He found me first when yet a little maid:

       Beaten I had been for a little fault

       Whereof I was not guilty; and out I ran

       And flung myself down on a bank of heath,

       And hated this fair world and all therein,

       And wept, and wished that I were dead; and he —

       I know not whether of himself he came,

       Or brought by Merlin, who, they say, can walk

       Unseen at pleasure — he was at my side,

       And spake sweet words, and comforted my heart,

       And dried my tears, being a child with me.

       And many a time he came, and evermore

       As I grew greater grew with me; and sad

       At times he seemed, and sad with him was I,

       Stern too at times, and then I loved him not,

       But sweet again, and then I loved him well.

       And now of late I see him less and less,

       But those first days had golden hours for me,

       For then I surely thought he would be king.