THE ROUND TABLE.
Fortunately "the question of the actual existence and acts of Arthur has
very little to do with the question of the origin of the Arthurian cycle."
But although some authorities entirely deny his existence, it is probable
that he was a Briton, for many places in Wales, Scotland, and England are
connected with his name.
On the very slightest basis, many of the mediaeval writers constructed long
and fabulous tales about this hero. Such was the popularity of the
Arthurian legends all over Europe that prose romances concerning him were
among the first works printed, and were thus brought into general
circulation. An outline of the principal adventures of Arthur and of his
knights is given here. It has been taken from many works, whose authors
will often be mentioned as we proceed.
King Uther Pendragon, as we have already seen, intrusted his new-born son,
Arthur, to the care of the enchanter Merlin, who carried him to the castle
of Sir Hector (Anton), where the young prince was brought up as a child of
the house.
"Wherefore Merlin took the child,
And gave him to Sir Anton, an old knight
And ancient friend of Uther; and his wife
Nursed the young prince, and rear'd him with her own;
And no man knew."
TENNYSON, _The Coming of Arthur_.
[Sidenote: The magic sword.] Two years later King Uther Pendragon died, and
the noblemen, not knowing whom to choose as his successor, consulted
Merlin, promising to abide by his decision. By his advice they all
assembled in St. Stephen's Church, in London, on Christmas Day. When mass
was over they beheld a large stone which had mysteriously appeared in the
churchyard. This stone was surmounted by a ponderous anvil, in which the
blade of a sword was deeply sunk. Drawing near to examine the wonder, they
read an inscription upon the jeweled hilt, to the effect that none but the
man who could draw out the sword should dare to take possession of the
throne. Of course all present immediately tried to accomplish this feat,
but all failed.
Several years passed by ere Sir Hector came to London with his son, Sir
Kay, and his foster son, young Arthur. Sir Kay, who, for the first time in
his life, was to take part in a tournament, was greatly chagrined, on
arriving there, to discover that he had forgotten his sword; so Arthur
volunteered to ride back and get it. He found the house closed; yet, being
determined to secure a sword for his foster brother, he strode hastily into
the churchyard, and easily drew from the anvil the weapon which all had
vainly tried to secure.
[Sidenote: Arthur made king.] This mysterious sword was handed to Sir Kay,
and Sir Hector, perceiving it, and knowing whence it came, immediately
inquired how Arthur had secured it. He even refused at first to believe the
evidence of his own eyes; but when he and all the principal nobles of the
realm had seen Arthur replace and draw out the sword, after all had again
vainly tried their strength, they gladly hailed the young man king.
As Merlin was an enchanter, it was popularly rumored that Arthur was not,
as he now declared, the son of Uther Pendragon and Yguerne, but a babe
mysteriously brought up from the depths of the sea, on the crest of the
ninth wave, and cast ashore at the wizard's feet. Hence many people
distrusted the young king, and at first refused to obey him.
"Watch'd the great sea fall,
Wave after wave, each mightier than the last,
Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep,
And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged
Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame:
And down the wave and in the flame was borne
A naked babe, and rode to Merlin's feet,
Who stoopt and caught the babe, and cried 'The King!
Here is an heir for Uther!'"
TENNYSON, _The Coming of Arthur_.
Among the unbelievers were some of the king's own kindred, and notably his
four nephews, Gawain, Gaheris, Agravaine, and Gareth. Arthur was therefore
obliged to make war against them; but although Gawain's strength increased
in a truly marvelous fashion from nine to twelve in the morning, and from
three to six in the afternoon, the king succeeded in defeating him by
following Merlin's advice and taking advantage of his comparatively weak
moments.
[Sidenote: Sir Pellinore.] Arthur, aided by Merlin, ruled over the land
wisely and well, redressed many wrongs, reëstablished order and security,
which a long interregnum had destroyed, and brandished his sword in many a
fight, in which he invariably proved victor. But one day, having drawn his
blade upon Sir Pellinore, who did not deserve to be thus attacked, it
suddenly failed him and broke. Left thus without any means of defense, the
king would surely have perished had not Merlin used his magic arts to put
Sir Pellinore to sleep and to bear his charge to a place of safety.
Arthur, thus deprived of his magic sword, bewailed its loss; but while he
stood by a lake, wondering how he should procure another, he beheld a
white-draped hand and arm rise out of the water, holding aloft a jeweled
sword which the Lady of the Lake, who appeared beside him, told him was
intended for his use.
"'Thou rememberest how
In those old days, one summer noon, an arm
Rose up from out the bosom of the lake,
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
Holding the sword--and how I row'd 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.'"
TENNYSON, _The Passing of Arthur_.
[Sidenote: Excalibur.] Arthur rowed out into the middle of the lake and
secured the sword which is known by the name Excalibur. He was then told by
the Lady of the Lake that it was gifted with magic powers, and that as long
as the scabbard remained in his possession he would suffer neither wound
nor defeat.
Thus armed, Arthur went back to his palace, where, hearing that the Saxons
had again invaded the country, he went to wage war against them, and won
many victories. Shortly after this Arthur heard that Leodegraunce, King of
Scotland, was threatened by his brother Ryance, King of Ireland, who was
determined to complete a mantle furred with the beards of kings, and wanted
to secure one more at any price. Arthur hastened to this monarch's
assistance, and delivered him from the clutches of Ryance. He not only
killed this savage monarch, but appropriated his mantle and carried it away
in triumph as a trophy of the war.
"And for a trophy brought the Giant's coat away
Made of the beards of Kings."
DRAYTON, _Polyolbion_.
[Sidenote: Arthur's marriage with Guinevere.] After these martial exploits
Arthur returned to the court of Leodegraunce, where he fell in love with
the latter's fair daughter, Guinevere. The king sued successfully for her
hand, but Merlin would not allow him to marry this princess until he had
distinguished himself by a campaign in Brittany. The wedding was then
celebrated with true mediaeval pomp; and Arthur, having received, besides
the princess, the Round Table once made for his father, conveyed his bride
and wedding gift to Camelot (Winchester), where he bade all his court be
present for a great feast at Pentecost.
"The nearest neighboring flood to Arthur's ancient seat,
Which made the Britons' name through all the world so great.
Like Camelot, what place was ever yet renown'd?
Where, as at Carlion, oft, he kept the Table-Round,
Most famous for the sports at Pentecost so long,
From whence all knightly deeds, and brave achievements sprong."
DRAYTON,--_Polyolbion_.
[Sidenote: Knights of the Round Table.] Arthur had already warred
successfully against twelve revolted kings, whose remains were interred at
Camelot by his order. There Merlin erected a marvelous castle, containing a
special hall for the reception of the Round Table. This hall was adorned
with the lifelike statues of all the conquered kings, each holding a
burning taper which the magician declared would burn brightly until the
Holy Grail should appear. Hoping to bring that desirable event to pass,
Arthur bade Merlin frame laws for the knights of the Round Table. As
distinctive mark, each of the noblemen admitted to a seat at this marvelous
table adopted some heraldic device. The number of these knights varies from
twelve to several hundred, according to the different poets or romancers.
"The fellowshipp of the Table Round,
Soe famous in those dayes;
Whereatt a hundred noble knights
And thirty sat alwayes;
Who for their deeds and martiall feates,
As bookes done yett record,
Amongst all other nations
Wer feared through the world."
_Legend of King Arthur_ (Old Ballad).
Merlin, by virtue of his magic powers, easily selected the knights worthy
to belong to this noble institution, and the Archbishop of Canterbury duly
blessed them and the board around which they sat. All the places were soon
filled except two; and as the knights arose from their seats after the
first meal they noticed that their names were inscribed in letters of gold
in the places they had occupied. But one of the empty seats was marked
"Siege Perilous," and could only be occupied by a peerless knight.
[Sidenote: Lancelot du Lac.]
Among all the knights of the Round Table, Sir Lancelot du Lac, who is the
hero of several lengthy poems and romances bearing his name, was the most
popular. Chrestien de Troyes, Geoffrey de Ligny, Robert de Borron, and Map
have all written about him, and he was so well known that his name was
given to one of the knaves on the playing cards invented at about this
time. Malory, in his prose version of the "Morte d'Arthur," has drawn
principally from the poems treating of Lancelot, whose early life was
somewhat extraordinary, too.
Some accounts relate that Lancelot was the son of King Ban and Helen. When
he was but a babe, his parents were obliged to flee from their besieged
castle in Brittany. Before they had gone far, the aged Ban, seeing his home
in flames, sank dying to the ground. Helen, eager to minister to her
husband, laid her baby boy down on the grass near a lake, and when she
again turned around, she saw him in the arms of Vivian, the Lady of the
Lake, who plunged with him into the waters.
"In the wife's woe, the mother was forgot.
At last (for I was all earth held of him
Who had been all to her, and now was not)
She rose, and looked with tearless eyes, but dim,
In the babe's face the father still to see;
And lo! the babe was on another's knee!
"Another's lips had kissed it into sleep,
And o'er the sleep another watchful smiled;
The Fairy sate beside the lake's still deep,
And hush'd with chaunted charms the orphan child!
Scared at the mother's cry, as fleets a dream,
Both Child and Fairy melt into the stream."
BULWER LYTTON, _King Arthur_.
The bereaved wife and mother now sorrowfully withdrew into a convent, while
Lancelot was brought up in the palace of the Lady of the Lake, with his two
cousins, Lyonel and Bohort. Here he remained until he was eighteen, when
the fairy herself brought him to court and presented him to the king.
Arthur then and there made him his friend and confidant, and gave him an
honored place at the Round Table. He was warmly welcomed by all the other
knights also, whom he far excelled in beauty and courage.
"But one Sir Lancelot du Lake,
Who was approved well,
He for his deeds and feats of armes
All others did excell."
_Sir Lancelot du Lake_ (Old Ballad).
[Sidenote: Lancelot and Guinevere.] Lancelot, however, was doomed to much
sorrow, for he had no sooner beheld Queen Guinevere than he fell deeply in
love with her. The queen fully returned his affection, granted him many
marks of her favor, and encouraged him to betray his friend and king on
sundry occasions, which form the themes of various episodes in the romances
of the time. Lancelot, urged in one direction by passion, in another by
loyalty, led a very unhappy life, which made him relapse into occasional
fits of insanity, during which he roamed aimlessly about for many years.
When restored to his senses, he always returned to court, where he
accomplished unheard-of deeds of valor, delivered many maidens in distress,
righted the wrong wherever he found it, won all the honors at the
tournaments, and ever remained faithful in his devotion to the queen,
although many fair ladies tried to make him forget her.
Some of the poems, anxious to vindicate the queen, declare that there were
two Guineveres, one pure, lovely, and worthy of all admiration, who
suffered for the sins of the other, an unprincipled woman. When Arthur
discovered his wife's intrigue with Lancelot, he sent her away, and
Guinevere took refuge with her lover in Joyeuse Garde (Berwick), a castle
he had won at the point of his lance to please her. But the king, having
ascertained some time after that the real Guinevere had been wrongfully
accused, reinstated her in his favor, and Lancelot again returned to court,
where he continued to love and serve the queen.
[Illustration: SIR LANCELOT DU LAC.--Sir John Gilbert.]
On one occasion, hearing that she had been made captive by Meleagans,
Lancelot rushed after Guinevere to rescue her, tracing her by a comb and
ringlet she had dropped on the way. His horse was taken from him by
enchantment, so Lancelot, in order sooner to overtake the queen, rode on in
a cart. This was considered a disgraceful mode of progress for a knight, as
a nobleman in those days was condemned to ride in a cart in punishment for
crimes for which common people were sentenced to the pillory.
Lancelot succeeded in reaching the castle of Guinevere's kidnaper, whom he
challenged and defeated. The queen, instead of showing herself grateful for
this devotion, soon became needlessly jealous, and in a fit of anger
taunted her lover about his journey in the cart. This remark sufficed to
unsettle the hero's evidently very tottering reason, and he roamed wildly
about until the queen recognized her error, and sent twenty-three knights
in search of him. They journeyed far and wide for two whole years without
finding him.
"'Then Sir Bors had ridden on
Softly, and sorrowing for our Lancelot,
Because his former madness, once the talk
And scandal of our table, had return'd;
For Lancelot's kith and kin so worship him
That ill to him is ill to them.'"
TENNYSON, _The Holy Grail_.
Finally a fair and pious damsel took pity upon the frenzied knight, and
seeing that he had atoned by suffering for all his sins, she had him borne
into the chamber where the Holy Grail was kept; "and then there came a holy
man, who uncovered the vessel, and so by miracle, and by virtue of that
holy vessel, Sir Lancelot was all healed and recovered."
[Sidenote: Gareth and Lynette.] Sane once more, Lancelot now returned to
Camelot, where the king, queen, and all the knights of the Round Table
rejoiced to see him. Here Lancelot knighted Sir Gareth, who, to please his
mother, had concealed his true name, and had acted as kitchen vassal for a
whole year. The new-made knight immediately started out with a fair maiden
called Lynette, to deliver her captive sister. Thinking him nothing but the
kitchen vassal he seemed, the damsel insulted Gareth in every possible way.
He bravely endured her taunts, courageously defeated all her adversaries,
and finally won her admiration and respect to such a degree that she bade
him ride beside her, and humbly asked his pardon for having so grievously
misjudged him.
"'Sir,--and, good faith, I fain had added Knight,
But that I heard thee call thyself a knave,--
Shamed am I that I so rebuked, reviled,
Missaid thee; noble I am; and thought the King
Scorn'd me and mine; and now thy pardon, friend,
For thou hast ever answer'd courteously,
And wholly bold thou art, and meek withal
As any of Arthur's best, but, being knave,
Hast mazed my wit: I marvel what thou art.'"
TENNYSON, _Gareth and Lynette_.
Granting her full forgiveness, Gareth now rode beside her, fought more
bravely still, and, after defeating many knights, delivered her sister from
captivity, and secured Lynette's promise to become his wife as soon as he
had been admitted to the Round Table. When he returned to Arthur's court
this honor was immediately awarded him, for his prowess had won the
admiration of all, and he was duly married on St. Michaelmas Day.
"And he that told the tale in older times
Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyoners,
But he that told it later, says Lynette."
TENNYSON, _Gareth and Lynette_.
[Sidenote: Geraint and Enid.] Gareth's brother, Geraint, was also an
honored member of the Round Table. After distinguishing himself by many
deeds of valor he married Enid the Fair, the only daughter of an old and
impoverished knight whom he delivered from the tyranny of his oppressor and
restored to all his former state. Taking his fair wife away with him to his
lonely manor, Geraint surrounded her with every comfort, and, forgetting
his former high aspirations, spent all his time at home, hoping thereby to
please her.
"He compass'd her with sweet observances
And worship, never leaving her, and grew
Forgetful of his promise to the King.
Forgetful of the falcon and the hunt,
Forgetful of the tilt and tournament,
Forgetful of his glory and his name,
Forgetful of his princedom and its cares.
And this forgetfulness was hateful to her."
TENNYSON, _Geraint and Enid_.
Enid, however, soon perceived that her husband was forgetting both honor
and duty to linger by her side. One day, while he lay asleep before her,
she, in an outburst of wifely love, poured out her heart, and ended her
confession by declaring that since Geraint neglected everything for her
sake only, she must be an unworthy wife.
Geraint awoke too late to overhear the first part of her speech; but,
seeing her tears, and catching the words "unworthy wife," he immediately
imagined that she had ceased to love him, and that she received the
attentions of another. In his anger Geraint (whom the French and German
poems call Erec) rose from his couch, and sternly bade his wife don her
meanest apparel and silently follow him through the world.
"The page he bade with speed
Prepare his own strong steed,
Dame Enid's palfrey there beside;
He said that he would ride
For pastime far away:
So forward hastened they."
HARTMANN VON AVE, _Erek and Enid_ (Bayard Taylor's tr.)
Patiently Enid did her husband's bidding, watched him fight the knights by
the way, and bound up his wounds. She suffered intensely from his
incomprehensible coldness and displeasure; but she stood all his tests so
nobly that he finally recognized how greatly he had misjudged her. He then
restored her to her rightful place, and loved her more dearly than ever
before.
"Nor did he doubt her more,
But rested in her fealty, till he crown'd
A happy life with a fair death, and fell
Against the heathen of the Northern Sea
In battle, fighting for the blameless King."
TENNYSON,--_Geraint and Enid_.
[Sidenote: Sir Galahad.] One Pentecost Day, when all the knights were
assembled, as usual, around the table at Camelot, a distressed damsel
suddenly entered the hall and implored Lancelot to accompany her to the
neighboring forest, where a young warrior was hoping to receive knighthood
at his hands. This youth was Sir Galahad, the peerless knight, whom some
authorities call Lancelot's son, while others declare that he was not of
mortal birth.
On reëntering the hall after performing this ceremony, Lancelot heard that
a miracle had occurred, and rushed with the king and his companions down to
the riverside. There the rumor was verified, for they all saw a heavy stone
floating down the stream, and perceived that a costly weapon was sunk deep
in the stone. On this weapon was an inscription, declaring that none but a
peerless knight should attempt to draw it out, upon penalty of a grievous
punishment. As all the knights of the Round Table felt guilty of some sin,
they modestly refused to touch it.
When they returned into the hall an aged man came in, accompanied by
Galahad, and the latter, fearless by right of innocence, sat down in the
"Siege Perilous." As his name then appeared upon it, all knew that he was
the rightful occupant, and hailed his advent with joy. Then, noticing that
he wore an empty scabbard, and hearing him state that he had been promised
a marvelous sword, they one and all escorted him down to the river, where
he easily drew the sword out of the stone. This fitted exactly in his empty
sheath, and all vowed that it was evidently meant for him.
That selfsame night, after evensong, when all the knights were seated about
the Round Table at Camelot, they heard a long roll of thunder, and felt the
palace shake. The brilliant lights held by the statues of the twelve
conquered kings grew strangely dim, and then, gliding down upon a beam of
refulgent celestial light, they all beheld a dazzling vision of the Holy
Grail. Covered by white samite, and borne by invisible hands, the sacred
vessel was slowly carried all around the great hall, while a delicious
perfume was wafted throughout the huge edifice. All the knights of the
Round Table gazed in silent awe at this resplendent vision, and when it
vanished as suddenly and as mysteriously as it had come, each saw before
him the food which he liked best.
Speechless at first, and motionless until the wonted light again illumined
the hall, the knights gave fervent thanks for the mercy which had been
vouchsafed them, and then Lancelot, springing impetuously to his feet,
vowed that he would ride forth in search of the Holy Grail and would know
no rest until he had beheld it unveiled. This vow was echoed by all the
knights of the Round Table; and when Arthur now questioned them closely, he
discovered that none had seen the vessel unveiled. Still he could not
prevent his knights from setting out in quest of it, because they had
solemnly vowed to do so.
"'Nay, lord, I heard the sound, I saw the light,
But since I did not see the Holy Thing,
I sware a vow to follow it till I saw.'
"Then when he ask'd us, knight by knight, if any
Had seen it, all their answers were as one:
'Nay, lord, and therefore have we sworn our vows.'"
TENNYSON, _The Holy Grail_.
[Sidenote: Quest of the Holy Grail.] During this quest the knights traveled
separately or in pairs all through the world, encountered many dangers, and
in true mediaeval fashion defended damsels in distress, challenged knights,
and covered themselves with scars and glory. Some of the legends declare
that Parzival alone saw the Holy Grail, while others aver that Lancelot saw
it through a veil faintly. The pure Galahad, having never sinned at all,
and having spent years in prayer and fasting, finally beheld it just as his
immaculate soul was borne to heaven by the angels.
The rest of the knights, realizing after many years' fruitless search that
they were unworthy of the boon, finally returned to Camelot, where they
were duly entertained by the queen. While they were feasting at her table,
one of their number, having partaken of a poisonous draught, fell lifeless
to the ground. As the incident had happened at the queen's side, some of
her detractors accused her of the crime, and bade her confess, or prove her
innocence by a judicial duel. Being her husband, Arthur was debarred by law
of the privilege of fighting for her in the lists of Camelot, and the poor
queen would have been condemned to be burned alive for lack of a champion
had not Lancelot appeared incognito, and forced her accuser to retract his
words.
Throughout his reign Arthur had been wont to encourage his knights by
yearly tournaments, the victor's prize being each time a precious jewel. It
seems that these jewels had come into his possession in a peculiar way.
While wandering as a lad in Lyonesse, Arthur found the moldering bones of
two kings. Tradition related that these monarchs had slain each other, and,
as they were brothers, the murder seemed so heinous that none dared touch
their remains. There among the rusty armor lay a kingly crown studded with
diamonds, which Arthur picked up and carelessly set upon his own head. At
that very moment a prophetic voice was heard declaring to him that he
should rule. Arthur kept the crown, and made each jewel set in it the
object of a brilliant pageant when the prophecy had been fulfilled.
"And Arthur came, and laboring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares
Had trodden that crown'd skeleton, and the skull
Brake from the nape, and from the skull the crown
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.'"
TENNYSON, _Lancelot and Elaine_.
[Sidenote: Lancelot's prowess.] Lancelot had been present at every one of
these knightly games, and had easily borne away the prize, for his very
name was almost enough to secure him the victory. When the time for the
last tournament came, he pretended to take no interest in it; but, riding
off to Astolat (Guildford), he asked Elaine, the fair maiden who dwelt
there, to guard his blazoned shield and give him another in exchange.
This fair lady, who had fallen in love with Lancelot at first sight,
immediately complied with his request, and even timidly suggested that he
should wear her colors in the coming fray. Lancelot had never worn any
favors except Guinevere's, but thinking that it would help to conceal his
identity, he accepted the crimson, pearl-embroidered sleeve she offered,
and fastened it to his helmet in the usual way.
"'Lady, thy sleeve thou shalt off-shear,
I wol it take for the love of thee;
So did I never no lady's ere [before]
But one, that most hath loved me.'"
ELLIS, _Lancelot du Lac_.
Thus effectually disguised, and accompanied by Sir Lawaine, Elaine's
brother, Lancelot rode on to the tournament, where, still unknown, he
unhorsed every knight and won the prize. His last encounter, however,
nearly proved fatal, for in it he received a grievous wound. As he felt
faint, and was afraid to be recognized, Lancelot did not wait to claim the
prize, but rode immediately out of the town. He soon fainted, but was
conveyed to the cell of a neighboring hermit. Here his wound was dressed,
and he was carefully nursed by Elaine, who had heard that he was wounded,
and had immediately set out in search of him.
[Sidenote: Lancelot and Elaine.] When Lancelot, entirely recovered, was
about to leave Elaine after claiming his own shield, she timidly confessed
her love, hoping that it was returned. Gently and sorrowfully Lancelot
repulsed her, and, by her father's advice, was even so discourteous as to
leave her without a special farewell. Unrequited love soon proved too much
for the "lily maid of Astolat," who pined away very rapidly. Feeling that
her end was near, she dictated a farewell letter to Lancelot, which she
made her father promise to put in her dead hand. She also directed that her
body should be laid in state on a barge, and sent in charge of a mute
boatman to Camelot, where she was sure she would receive a suitable burial
from the hands of Lancelot.
In the meanwhile the hero of the tournament had been sought everywhere by
Gawain, who was the bearer of the diamond won at such a cost. Coming to
Astolat before Lancelot was cured, Gawain had learned the name of the
victor, which he immediately proclaimed to Guinevere. The queen, however,
hearing a vague rumor that Lancelot had worn the colors of the maiden of
Astolat, and was about to marry her, grew so jealous that when Lancelot
reappeared at court she received him very coldly, and carelessly flung his
present (a necklace studded with the diamonds he had won at various
tournaments) into the river flowing beneath the castle walls.
"She seized,
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 passed away."
TENNYSON, _Lancelot and Elaine_.
[Illustration: ELAINE--Rosenthal.]
[Sidenote: The funeral barge.] As he leaned out of the window to trace them
in their fall, Lancelot saw a barge slowly drifting down the stream. Its
peculiar appearance attracted his attention, and as it passed close by him
he saw that it bore a corpse. A moment later he had recognized the features
of the dead Elaine. The mute boatman paused at the castle steps, and Arthur
had the corpse borne into his presence. The letter was found and read aloud
in the midst of the awestruck court. Arthur, touched by the girl's love,
bade Lancelot fulfill her last request and lay her to rest. Lancelot then
related the brief story of the maiden, whose love he could not return, but
whose death he sincerely mourned.
"'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.
Yet to be loved makes not to love again;
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,
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;
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.'"
TENNYSON, _Lancelot and Elaine_.
Haunted by remorse for this involuntary crime, Lancelot again wandered away
from Camelot, but returned in time to save Guinevere, who had again been
falsely accused. In his indignation at the treatment to which she had been
exposed, Lancelot bore her off to Joyeuse Garde, where he swore he would
defend her even against the king. Arthur, whose mind, in the mean while,
had been poisoned by officious courtiers, besieged his recreant wife and
knight; but although repeatedly challenged, the loyal Lancelot ever refused
to bear arms directly against his king.
When the Pope heard of the dissension in England he finally interfered; and
Lancelot, assured that Guinevere would henceforth be treated with all due
respect, surrendered her to the king and retreated to his paternal estate
in Brittany. As Arthur's resentment against Lancelot had not yet cooled, he
left Guinevere under the care and protection of Mordred, his nephew,--some
versions say his son,--and then, at the head of a large force, departed for
Brittany.
[Sidenote: Treachery of Mordred.] Mordred the traitor immediately took
advantage of his uncle's absence to lay claim to the throne; and loudly
declaring that Arthur had been slain, he tried to force Guinevere to marry
him. As she demurred, he kept her a close prisoner, and set her free only
when she pretended to agree with his wishes, and asked permission to go to
London to buy wedding finery.
When Guinevere arrived in that city she intrenched herself in the Tower,
and sent word to her husband of her perilous position. Without any delay
Arthur abandoned the siege of Lancelot's stronghold, and, crossing the
channel, encountered Mordred's army near Dover.
Negotiations now took place, and it was finally agreed that Arthur and a
certain number of knights should meet Mordred with an equal number, and
discuss the terms of peace. It had been strictly enjoined on both parties
that no weapon should be drawn, and all would have gone well had not an
adder been lurking in the grass. One of the knights drew his sword to kill
it, and this unexpected movement proved the signal for one of the bloodiest
battles described in mediaeval poetry.
"An addere crept forth of a bushe,
Stunge one o' th' king's knightes on the knee.
Alacke! it was a woefulle chance,
As ever was in Christientie;
When the knighte founde him wounded sore,
And sawe the wild worme hanginge there,
His sworde he from the scabbarde drewe;
A piteous case, as ye shall heare;
For when the two hostes saw the sworde,
They joyned in battayle instantlye;
Till of so manye noble knightes,
On one side there was left but three."
_King Arthur's Death_.
[Sidenote: Arthur wounded.] On both sides the knights fought with the
utmost courage, and when nearly all were slain, Arthur encountered the
traitor Mordred. Summoning all his strength, the exhausted king finally
slew the usurper, who, in dying, dealt Arthur a mortal blow. This would
never have occurred, however, had not Morgana the fay, Arthur's sister,
purloined his magic scabbard and substituted another. All the enemy's host
had perished, and of Arthur's noble army only one man remained alive, Sir
Bedivere, a knight of the Round Table. He hastened to the side of his
fallen master, who in faltering accents now bade him take the brand
Excalibur, cast it far from him into the waters of the lake, and return to
report what he should see. The knight, thinking it a pity to throw away so
valuable a sword, concealed it twice; but the dying monarch detected the
fraud, and finally prevailed upon Bedivere to fulfill his wishes. As the
magic blade touched the waters Sir Bedivere saw a hand and arm rise up from
the depths to seize it, brandish it thrice, and disappear.
"'Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems
Should blind my purpose; for I never saw,
Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die,
Not tho' I live three lives of mortal men,
So great a miracle as yonder hilt.
Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him;
But when I look'd again, behold an arm,
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
That caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him
Three times, and drew him under in the mere.'"
TENNYSON, _The Passing of Arthur_.
Arthur gave a sigh of relief when he heard this report; and after telling
his faithful squire that Merlin had declared that he should not die, he
bade the knight lay him in a barge, all hung with black, wherein he would
find Morgana the fay, the Queen of Northgallis, and the Queen of the
Westerlands.
Sir Bedivere obeyed all these orders exactly; and then, seeing his beloved
king about to leave him, he implored permission to accompany him. This,
however, Arthur could not grant, for it had been decreed that he should go
alone to the island of Avalon, where he hoped to be cured of his grievous
wound, and some day to return to his sorrowing people.
"'But now farewell. I am going a long way
With these thou seest--if indeed I go
(For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)--
To the island-valley of Avilion;
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns
And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea,
Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.'"
TENNYSON, _The Passing of Arthur_.
[Sidenote: Arthur in Avalon.] It was because Arthur thus disappeared and
was never seen again, according to one version of the myth, and because
none knew whether he were living or dead, that he was popularly supposed to
be enjoying perpetual youth and bliss in the fabled island of Avalon,
whence they averred he would return when his people needed him. This belief
was so deeply rooted in England that Philip of Spain, upon marrying Mary,
was compelled to take a solemn oath whereby he bound himself to relinquish
the crown in favor of Arthur should he appear to claim it.
"Still look the Britons for the day
Of Arthur's coming o'er the sea."
LAYAMON, _Brut_.
Other romances and poems relate that Arthur was borne in the sable-hung
barge to Glastonbury, where his remains were laid in the tomb, while
Guinevere retired into the nunnery at Almesbury. There she was once more
visited by the sorrowing Lancelot, who, in spite of all his haste, had come
upon the scene too late to save or be reconciled to the king, to whom he
was still devotedly attached. In his sorrow and remorse the knight withdrew
into a hermitage, where he spent six years in constant penance and prayer.
At last he was warned in a vision that Guinevere was no more. He hastened
to Almesbury, and found her really dead. After burying her by Arthur's
side, in the chapel of Glastonbury, Lancelot again withdrew to his cell.
Six weeks later, worn to a shadow by abstinence and night watches, he
peacefully passed away, and a priest watching near him said that he had
seen the angels receive and bear his ransomed spirit straight up to heaven.
Lancelot was buried either at Arthur's feet or at Joyeuse Garde. He was
deeply mourned by all his friends, and especially by his heir, Sir Ector de
Maris, who eulogized him in the following touching terms: "'Ah, Sir
Lancelot,' he said, 'thou were head of all Christian knights; and now I
dare say,' said Sir Ector, 'that, Sir Lancelot, there thou liest, thou were
never matched of none earthly knight's hands; and thou were the courtliest
knight that ever bare shield; and thou were the truest friend to thy lover
that ever bestrode horse; and thou were the truest lover of a sinful man
that ever loved woman; and thou were the kindest man that ever struck with
sword; and thou were the goodliest person that ever came among press of
knights; and thou were the meekest man, and the gentlest, that ever ate in
hall among ladies; and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that
ever put spear in rest.'"