V. Thus in the garden's narrow bound, Shade after shade with skill combines, Long for rough glades and forest free. VI. 'Three summer months had scantly flown When Arthur, in embarrass'd tone, The other for an instant press'd VII. 'At her reproachful sign and look, The hint the Monarch's conscience took. Eager he spoke-" No, lady, no! I swear by sceptre and by sword, The lady deign'd him not reply. VIII. At dawn of morn, ere on the brake His matins did a warbler make, Or stirr'd his wing to brush away A single dewdrop from the spray, Ere yet a sunbeam, through the mist, The castle-battlements had kiss'd, The gates revolve, the drawbridge falls, And Arthur sallies from the walls. Doff'd his soft garb of Persia's loom, And steel from spur to helmet-plume, His Lybian steed full proudly trode, And joyful neigh'd beneath his load. The Monarch gave a passing sigh To penitence and pleasures by, When, lo! to his astonish'd ken Appear'd the form of Guendolen. IX. Beyond the outmost wall she stood, Attired like huntress of the wood : Sandall'd her feet, her ankles bare, And eagle-plumage deck'd her hair; Firm was her look, her bearing bold, And in her hand a cup of gold. "Thou goest!" she said, "and ne'er again Must we two meet, in joy or pain. Full fain would I this hour delay, Though weak the wish-yet, wilt thou stay? No! thou look'st forward. Still, attend! Part we like lover and like friend." She raised the cup-"Not this the juice The sluggish vines of earth produce; Pledge we, at parting, in the draught Which Genii love!" She said, and quaff'd ; And strange unwonted lustres fly From her flush'd cheek and sparkling eye. X. 'The courteous Monarch bent him low, Then breath and sinew fail'd apace, frown'd, The lonely streamlet brawl'd around A tufted knoll, where dimly shone Fragments of rock and rifted stone. Musing on this strange hap the while, The King wends back to fair Carlisle; And cares, that cumber royal sway, Wore memory of the past away. XI. 'Full fifteen years and more were sped, Each brought new wreaths to Arthur's head. Twelve bloody fields, with glory fought, And Roman Lucius, own'd his might; And wide were through the world renown'd The glories of his Table Round. Each knight who sought adventurous fame, To the bold court of Britain came, And all who suffer'd causeless wrong, From tyrant proud, or faitour strong, Sought Arthur's presence, to complain, Nor there for aid implored in vain. XII. For this the King, with pomp and pride, Held solemn court at Whitsuntide, And summon'd Prince and Peer, All who owed homage for their land, Or who craved knighthood from his hand, Or who had succour to demand, To come from far and near. At such high tide were glee and game Mingled with feats of martial fame, For many a stranger champion came In lists to break a spear; And not a knight of Arthur's host, Save that he trode some foreign coast, But at this feast of Pentecost Before him must appear. Ah, Minstrels! when the Table Round Arose, with all its warriors crown'd, There was a theme for bards to sound In triumph to their string! Five hundred years are past and gone, But Time shall draw his dying groan Ere he behold the British throne Begirt with such a ring! XIII. 'The heralds named the appointed spot, As Caerleon or Camelot, Or Carlisle fair and free. At Penrith, now, the feast was set, The flower of Chivalry. And love-lorn Tristrem there: And Dinadam with lively glance, And Lanval with the fairy lance, And Mordred with his look askance, Brunor and Bevidere. Why should I tell of numbers more? Sir Cay, Sir Banier, and Sir Bore, Sir Carodac the keen, The gentle Gawain's courteous lore, Look'd stol'n-wise on the Queen. XIV. 'When wineandmirth did most abound, And harpers play'd their blithest round, A shrilly trumpet shook the ground, And marshals cleared the ring; A maiden, on a palfrey white, Heading a band of damsels bright, Paced through the circle, to alight And kneel before the King. Arthur, with strong emotion, saw Her graceful boldness check'd by awe, Her dress, like huntress of the wold, Her bow and baldric trapp'd with gold, Her sandall'd feet, her ankles bare, And the eagle-plume that deck'd her hair. Graceful her veil she backward flung; The King, as from his seat he sprung, Almost cried, "Guendolen!" But 'twas a face more frank and wild, Betwixt the woman and the child, Where less of magic beauty smiled Than of the race of men ; And in the forehead's haughty grace The lines of Britain's royal race, Pendragon's, you might ken. XV. 'Faltering, yet gracefully, she said— "Great Prince! behold an orphan maid, In her departed mother's name, His vow, he said, should well be kept, But she, unruffled at the scene XVI. "Up! up! each knight of gallant crest, And Carlisle town and tower." Then might you hear each valiant knight To page and squire that cried, "Bring my armour bright, and my courser wight! 'Tis not each day that a warrior's might May win a royal bride." Then cloaks and caps of maintenance In haste aside they fling; The helmets glance, and gleams the lance, And the steel-weaved hauberks ring. Small care had they of their peaceful array, They might gather it that wolde; For brake and bramble glitter'd gay With pearls and cloth of gold. XVII. What time, of all King Arthur's crew 'Within trumpet sound of the Table He, as the mate of lady true, Round Were fifty champions free, And they all arise to fight that prize, They all arise but three. Nor love's fond troth, nor wedlock's oath, One gallant could withhold, For priests will allow of a broken vow For penance or for gold. But sigh and glance from ladies bright Among the troop were thrown, To plead their right, and true-love plight, And 'plain of honour flown. The knights they busied them so fast, With buckling spur and belt, That sigh and look, by ladies cast, Were neither seen nor felt. From pleading, or upbraiding glance, Each gallant turns aside, And only thought, "If speeds my lance, A queen becomes my bride! She has fair Strath-Clyde, and Reged wide, And Carlisle tower and town; She is the loveliest maid, beside, That ever heir'd a crown." So in haste their coursers they bestride, And strike their visors down. XVIII. 'The champions, arm'd in martial sort, For faith so constant shown,There were two who loved their neighbours' wives, And one who loved his own. The first was Lancelot de Lac, The second Tristrem bold, The third was valiant Carodac, Who won the cup of gold, Alone the cup could quaff. Though envy's tongue would fain surmise That, but for very shame, Had given both cup and dame; XIX. 'Now caracoled the steeds in air, Now plumes and pennons wanton'd fair, As all around the lists so wide XX. "Thou see'st, my child, as promisebound, I bid the trump for tourney sound. task; And Beauty's eyes should ever be Like the twin stars that soothe the sea, And Beauty's breath shall whisper Pendragon's daughter will not fear peace, And bid the storm of battle cease. And threatens death or deadly harm, XXI. 'A proud and discontented glow O'ershadow'd Gyneth's brow of snow; She put the warder by: For clashing sword or splinter'd spear, Nor shrink though blood should flow; And all too well sad Guendolen XXII. 'He frown'd and sigh'd, the Monarch bold: "I give what I may not withhold; "Reserve thy boon, my liege," she Gyneth shall lose a daughter's place." said, "Thus chaffer'd down and limited, Debased and narrow'd, for a maid Of less degree than I. Has but her father's rugged tower, King Arthur swore, By crown and sword, As belted knight and Britain's lord, That a whole summer's day should strive His knights, the bravest knights alive! But think not she will e'er be bride |