But he 'I die already with it: draw -
Draw' - and Lavaine drew, and that other gave
A marvellous great shriek and ghastly groan,
And half his blood burst forth, and down he sank
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 world's rumor by the grove
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 utmost North and West, Lords of waste marches, kings of desolate isles, Came round their great Pendragon, saying to him '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, 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. Gawain, rise, My nephew, and ride forth and find the knight. Wounded and wearied needs must he be near. I 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 No customary honor: since the knight Came not to us, of us to claim the prize, Ourselves will send it after. Wherefore take This diamond, and deliver it, and return,
And bring us what he is and how he fares,
And cease not from your quest, until you 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, 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 Lamorack, a good knight, but therewithal Sir Modred's brother, of a crafty house, 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.
So all in wrath he got to horse and went; While Arthur to the banquet, dark in mood, Past, thinking 'is it Lancelot who has come Despite the wound he spake of, all for gain Of glory, and has added wound to wound, 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 '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 you parted from us, Than Lancelot told me of a common talk 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,
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.""
'Far lovelier in our Lancelot had it been,
In lieu of idly dallying with the truth,
To have trusted me as he has trusted you.
Surely his king and most familiar friend
Might well have kept his secret. True, indeed,
Albeit I know my knights fantastical,
So fine a fear in our large Lancelot
Must needs have moved my laughter: now remains
But little cause for laughter: his own kin
Ill news, my Queen, for all who love him, these!
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
A sleeve of scarlet, broidered with great pearls,
Some gentle maiden's gift.'
'Your hopes are mine,' and saying that she choked,
And sharply turn'd about to hide her face,
Moved to her chamber, and there flung herself
Down on the great King's couch, 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 wild tears, and rose again,
And moved about her palace, proud and pale.
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
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 ;
Thereon she smote her hand: well-nigh she swoon'd:
And, while he gazed wonderingly at her, came
The lord of Asteiat out, to whom the Prince
Reported who he was, and on what quest
Sent, that he bore the prize and could not find
The victor, but had ridden wildly round
To seek him, and was wearied of the search.
To whom the lord of Astolat 'Bide with us,
And ride no longer wildly, noble Prince!
Here was the knight, and here he left a shield ;
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,
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!'
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
And amorous adulation, till the maid
Rebell'd against it, saying to him, 'Prince,
O 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,
And lose the quest he sent you on, and prové
No surer than our falcon yesterday,
Who lost the hern we slipt him at, and went
To all the winds?' 'Nay, by mine head,' said he,
'I lose it, as we lose the lark in heaven,
O damsel, in the light of your blue eyes :
But an you will it let me see the shield.'
And when the shield was brought, and Gawain saw
Sir Lancelot's azure lions, crown'd with gold,
Ramp in the field, he smote his thigh, and mock'd;
'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 I dream'd,' said Gawain, 'that you love
This greatest knight, your pardon ! lo, you know it!
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,
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,
Methinks there is none other I can love.'
'Yea, by God's death,' said he, 'you love him well,
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