Morte
D' Arthur
So all day long
the noise of battle rolled
Among the mountains
by the winter sea,
Until King Arthur's
table, man by man,
Had fallen in Lyonnesse
about their lord,
King Arthur; then,
because his wound was deep,
The bold Sir Bedivere
uplifted him,
Sir Bedivere, the
last of all his knights,
And bore him to
a chapel nigh the field,
A broken chancel
with a broken cross,
That stood on a dark strait of barren
land.
On one side lay the ocean, and on one
Lay a great water, and the moon was full.
Then spake King
Arthur to Sir Bedivere:
"The sequel of today unsolders all
The goodliest fellowship of famous knights
Whereof this world holds record. Such
a sleep
They sleep -- the men I loved. I think
that we
Shall never more, at any future time,
Delight our souls with talk of knightly
deeds,
Walking about the gardens and the halls
Of Camelot, as in the days that were.
I perish by this people which I made --
Though Merlin sware that I should come
again
To rule once more -- but let what will
be be,
I am so deeply smitten through the helm
That without help I cannot last till morn.
Thou therefore take my brand, Excalibur,
Which was my pride; for thou remeberest
how
In those old days, one summer noon, an
arm
Rose up from out the boson of the lake,
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
Holding the sword -- and how I rowed across
And took it, and have worn it, like a
king;
And, wheresoever I am sung or told
in aftertime, this also shall be known.
But now delay not; take Excalibur,
And fling him far into the middle mere;
Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring
me word."
To him replied
the bold Sir Bedivere:
"It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee
thus,
Aidless, alone, and smitten through the
helm.
A little thing may harm a wounded man.
Yet I thy hest will all perform at full,
Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee
word."
So saying, from
the ruined shrine he stepped
And in the moon athwart the place of tombs,
Where lay the mighty bones of ancient
men,
Old knights, and over them the sea-wind
sand
Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He,
stepping down
By zigzag paths and just of pointed rock,
Came on the shining levels of the lake.
The drew he forth
the brand Excalibur,
And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon,
Brightening the skirts of a long cloud,
ran forth
And sparkled keen with frost against the
hilt;
For all the haft twinkled with diamond
sparks,
Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth work
Of subtlest jewelry. He gazed so long
That both his eyes were dazzled, as he
stood,
This way and that dividing the swift ming,
In act to throw; but at the last it seemed
Better to leave Excalibur concealed
There in the many-knotted water-flags,
That whistled stiff and dry about the
marge.
So strode he back slow to the wounded
king.
Then spake King
Arthur to Sir Bedivere:
"Hast thou performed my mission which
I gave?
What is it thou hast seen, or what has
heard?"
And answer made
the bold Sir Bedivere:
"I heard the ripple washing in the reeds
and the wild water lapping on the
crag."
To whom replied
King Arthur faint and pale,
"Thou hast betrayed thy nature and thy
name,
Not rendering true answer, as beseemed
Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight;
For sureer sign had followed, either hand,
Or voice, or else a motion of the mere.
This is a shameful thing for men to lie.
Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again
As thou art lief and dear, and do the
thing
I bade thee, watch, a nd lightly bring
me word."
The went Sir
Bedivere the second time
Across the ridge, and paced beside the
mere,
Counting the dewy pebbles, fixed in thought;
But when he saw the wonder of the hilt,
How curiously and strangely chased, he
smote
His palms together, and he cried aloud:
"And if indeed
I cast the brand away,
Surely a precious thing, one worthy note,
Should thus be lost forever from the earth,
Which might have pleased the eyes of many
men.
What good should follow this, if this
were done?
What harm, undone? deep harm to disobey,
Seeing obedience is the bond of rule.
Were it well to obey them, if a king demand
An act unprofitable, against himself?
The king is sick, and knows not what he
does.
What record, or what relic of my lord
Should be to aftertime, but empt breath
And rumors of a doubt? But were this kept,
Stored in some treasure-house of mighty
kings,
Someone might show it at a just of arms,
Saying, 'King Arthur's sword, Excalibur,
Wrought by the lonely maiden of the lake;
Nine years she wrought it, sittin gin
the deeps
Upon the hidden bases of the hills.'
So might some old man speak in the aftertime
To all the people, winning reverence;
But now much honor and much fame were
lost."
So spake he,
clouded with his own conceit,
And hid excalibur the second time,
And so strode back slow to the wounded
king.
Then spoke King
Arthur, breathing heavily,
"What is it thou hast seen, or what hast
heard?"
And answer made
the bold Sir Bedivere:
"I heard the water lapping on the crag
And the long ripple washing in the reeds."
To whom replied
King Arthur, much in wrath,
"Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue,
Unkightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me!
Authority forgets a dying king,
Laid widowed of the power in his eye
That bowed the will. I see what thou art,
For thou, the latest-left of all my knights,
In whom should meet the offices of all,
Thou wouldst betray me fo the precious
hilt;
Either from lust of gold, or like a girl
Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes.
Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice,
And the third time may prosper, get thee
hence;
But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur,
I will arise and slay thee with my hands."
Then quickly
rose Sir Bedievere, and ran,
And, leaping down the ridges lightly,
plunged
Among the bulrush-beds, and clutched the
sword,
And strongly wheeled and threw it. The
great brand
Made lightnings in the splendor of the
moon,
And flashing round and round, and whirled
in an arch,
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,
Seen where the moving isles of winter
shock
By night, with noises of the northern
sea.
So flashed and fell the brand Excalibur;
But ere he dipped the surface, rose an
arm
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
And caught him by the hilt, and brandished
him
Three times, and drew him in the mere.
And lightly went the other to the king.
Then spoke King
Arthur, drawing thicker breath:
"Now I see by thine eyes that this is
done.
Speak out; what is it thou hast heard,
or seen?"
........
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