William Morris

“ On Arthur's head, till some of her long hair
⁠Brush'd on the new-cut stone—"Well done! to pray
"For Arthur, my dear lord, the greatest king
⁠That ever lived." "Guenevere! Guenevere!
Do you not know me, are you gone mad? fling
⁠Your arms and hair about me, lest I fear
"You are not Guenevere, but some other thing."
⁠"Pray you forgive me, fair lord Launcelot!
I am not mad, but I am sick; they cling,
⁠God's curses, unto such as I am; not
"Ever again shall we twine arms and lips." ”

“ And do not touch me! No, you shall not die,
Nor yet pay ransom. You, John Curzon, cause
Some carpenters to build a scaffold, high,
Outside the gate; when it is built, sound out
To all good folks, "Come, see a traitor punish'd!"
Take me my knight, and set him up thereon,
And let the hangman shave his head quite clean,
And cut his ears off close up to the head;
And cause the minstrels all the while to play
Soft music, and good singing; for this day
Is my high day of triumph; is it not,
Sir Lambert?
Sir Lambert
⁠Ah! ”

“ Over those bones I sat and pored for hours,
⁠And thought, and dream'd, and still I scarce could see
The small white bones that lay upon the flowers,
⁠But evermore I saw the lady; she
With her dear gentle walking leading in,
⁠By a chain of silver twined about her wrists,
Her loving knight, mounted and arm'd to win
⁠Great honour for her, fighting in the lists.
O most pale face, that brings such joy and sorrow
⁠Into men's hearts—yea, too, so piercing sharp
That joy is, that it marcheth nigh to sorrow
⁠For ever—like an overwinded harp.
Your face must hurt me always ”

“ I would kiss the place where the gold hems meet,
And the golden girdle round my sweet—
⁠Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
Ah me! I have never touch'd her hand;
When the arriere-ban goes through the land,
Six basnets under my pennon stand;—
⁠Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
And many an one grins under his hood:
"Sir Lambert de Bois, with all his men good,
Has neither food nor firewood;"—
⁠Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
If I were rich I would kiss her feet,
And the golden girdle of my sweet,
And thereabouts where the gold hems meet;—
⁠Ah! ”

“ And the dogs will howl for those who went last month to the war.
⁠⁠Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?
⁠⁠Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,
⁠⁠Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.
So I will sit and think of love that is over and past,
O! so long ago—yes, I will be quiet at last;
Whether I like it or not, a grim half-slumber is cast
Over my worn old brains, that touches the roots of my heart. ”

“ Right so I fell upon the floor and knelt,
⁠Not as one kneels in church when mass is said,
But in a heap, quite nerveless, for I felt
⁠The first time what a thing was perfect dread.
But mightily the gentle voice came down:
⁠"Rise up, and look and listen, Galahad,
Good knight of God, for you will see no frown
⁠Upon my face; I come to make you glad.
"For that you say that you are all alone,
⁠I will be with you always, and fear not
You are uncared for, though no maiden moan
⁠Above your empty tomb ”

“ Red heavy swinging hair; he fear'd a scoff
⁠So overmuch, though what true knight would dare
"To mock that face, fretted with useless care,
⁠And bitter useless striving after love?
O Palomydes, with much honour bear
⁠Beast Glatysaunt upon your shield, above
"Your helm that hides the swinging of your hair,
⁠And think of Iseult, as your sword drives through
Much mail and plate—O God, let me be there
⁠A little time, as I was long ago!
"Because stout Gareth lets his spear fall low,
⁠Gauwaine, and Launcelot, and Dinadan
Are helm'd and waiting; let the trumpets go! ”

“ Large in the eyes, and slim and tall;
And ever she sung from noon to noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
There was a knight came riding by
In early spring, when the roads were dry;
And he heard that lady sing at the noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
Yet none the more he stopp'd at all,
But he rode a-gallop past the hall;
And left that lady singing at noon,
Two red roses across the moon.
Because, forsooth, the battle was set,
And the scarlet and blue had got to be met,
He rode on the spur till the next warm noon:—
Two red roses across the moon. ”

“ Sir Lambert
If your side were right,
You might be, though you lost ; but if I said,
"You are a traitor, being, as you are,
Born Frenchman." What are Edwards unto you,
Or Richards?
Sir Peter
Nay, hold there, my Lambert, hold!
For fear your zeal should bring you to some harm,
Don't call me traitor.
Sir Lambert
⁠Furthermore, my knight,
Men call you slippery on your losing side,
When at Bordeaux I was ambassador,
I heard them say so, and could scarce say "Nay". ”

“ John, despatch.
In the French camp before the Castle
Sir Peter prisoner, Guesclin, Clisson, Sir Lambert
Sir Peter
So now is come the ending of my life;
If I could clear this sickening lump away
That sticks in my dry throat, and say a word,
Guesclin might listen.
Guesclin
Tell me, fair sir knight,
If you have been clean liver before God,
And then you need not fear much; as for me,
I cannot say I hate you, yet my oath,
And cousin Lambert's ears here clench the thing.
Sir Peter
I knew you could not hate me, therefore I
Am bold to pray for life ”

“ Will ride and smite among the serried glaives,
Fear not death so; for I can tilt right well,
Let me not say "I could"; I know all tricks,
That sway the sharp sword cunningly; ah you,
You, my Lord Clisson, in the other days
Have seen me learning these, yea, call to mind. ”

“ Kissing my face, half blinded with the heat
⁠Of king's love for the queen I used to be.
"Launcelot, Launcelot, why did he take your hand.
⁠When he had kissed me in his kingly way?
Saying, 'This is the knight whom all the land
⁠Calls Arthur's banner, sword, and shield to-day;
"'Cherish him, love.'⁠Why did your long lips cleave
⁠In such strange way unto my fingers then?
So eagerly glad to kiss, so loath to leave
⁠When you rose up? Why among helmed men
"Could I always tell you by your long strong arms. ”

“ Had Launcelot come before—and now, so nigh!
After that day why is it Guenevere grieves?
"Nevertheless you, O Sir Gauwaine, lie.
Whatever happened on through all those years,
God knows I speak truth, saying that you lie.
"Being such a lady could I weep these tears
If this were true? A great queen such as I
Having sinn'd this way, straight her conscience sears;
"And afterwards she liveth hatefully,
Slaying and poisoning, certes never weeps,—
Gauwaine be friends now, speak me lovingly.
"Do I not see how God's dear pity creeps
All through your frame, and trembles in your mouth? ”

“ Sir Lambert
Such mercy! why not kill me then outright?
To die is nothing; but to live that all
May point their fingers! yea, I'd rather die.
John Curzon
Why, will it make you any uglier man
To lose your ears? they're much too big for you,
You ugly Judas!
Sir Peter
⁠Hold, John! ”

“ But, alas! the sea-salt oozes through
The chinks of the tiles of the Closet Blue;
And ever the great bell overhead
Booms in the wind a knell for the dead,
The wind plays on it a knell for the dead. ”

“ And then his coming step would ring
Joy-bells for her,—some time ago.
Ah! sometimes like an idle dream
That hinders true life overmuch,
Sometimes like a lost heaven, these seem—
This love is not so hard to smutch. ”

“ And the smoke roll'd over the reeds of the fen,
Slew Guy of the Dolorous Blast.
And now, knights all of you,
I pray you pray for Sir Hugh,
A good knight and a true,
And for Alice, his wife, pray too. ”

“ Guesclin
My sweet lord, much I grieve
I cannot please you, yea, good sooth, I grieve
This knight must die, as verily he must;
For I have sworn it, so men take him out,
Use him not roughly.
Sir Lambert, coming forward
Music, do you know,
Music will suit you well, I think, because
You look so mild, like Laurence being grill'd ”

“ The fighting was—Ellayne! Ellayne!
They cannot love like you can, who
Would burn your hands off, if that pain
Could win a kiss—am I not true
To you for ever? therefore I
Do not fear death or anything ”

“ I heard Ozana murmur low,
⁠"There comes no sleep nor any love."
But Galahad stoop'd and kiss'd his brow:
⁠He shiver'd; I saw his pale lips move.
Sir Ozana
There comes no sleep nor any love;
⁠Ah me! I shiver with delight.
I am so weak I cannot move ”

“ A quick shriek came from me:
"Come back, dear lord, to your white maid;"—
The Sword went out to sea.
The hot sun bit the garden-beds,
When the Sword came back from sea;
Beneath an apple-tree our heads
Stretched out toward the sea ”

“ From a red heart: with little blame—
⁠Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.
Our tough spears crackled up like straw;
He was the first to turn and draw
His sword, that had nor speck nor flaw,—
⁠Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée. ”

“ See, this dame Alice, maiden Mary,
Her hair is thin and white,
But she is a housewife good and wary,
And a great steel key hangs bright
From her gown, as red as the flowers in corn;
She is good and old like the autumn corn. ”

“ Five minutes hence, and grow black in the face,
And curl your toes up. Therefore I am glad.
⁠Guess why I stand and talk this nonsense now,
With Guesclin getting ready to play chess,
And Clisson doing something with his sword,
I can't see what, talking to Guesclin though,
I don't know what about, perhaps of you.
But, cousin Peter, while I stroke your beard,
Let me say this, I 'd like to tell you now
That your life hung upon a game of chess,
That if, say, my squire Robert here should beat,
Why you should live, but hang if I beat him ”

“ These loose-hung bones seem shapely still, and tall,—
⁠Didst ever see a woman's bones, my lord?"
Often, God help me! I remember when
⁠I was a simple boy, fifteen years old,
The Jacquerie froze up the blood of men
⁠With their fell deeds, not fit now to be told:
God help again! ”

“ I sew'd it up with scarlet silk
⁠Last night upon my knee,
And my heart grew sad and sore to think
⁠Thy face I'd never see.
I sew'd it up with scarlet silk,
⁠As I lay upon my bed:
Sorrow! the man I'll never see
⁠That had my maidenhead. ”

“ Sank down and crept on hand and knee,
On the window-sill she laid her head.
There, with crooked arm upon the sill,
She look'd out, muttering dismally:
"There is no sail upon the sea.
No pennon on the empty hill. ”

“ John, John, John!⁠
Throw all your mason's tools down the deep well,
Hang Peter up and Jacques; they're no good,
We shall not build, man.
John Curzon (going)
Shall I call the guard⁠
To hang them, sir? and yet, sir, for the tools,
We'd better keep them still; sir, fare you well. ”

“ Beneath an apple-tree our heads
Stretched out toward the sea.
My sisters wore; I wore but white:
Red, brown, and white, are three;
Three damozels; each had a knight,
When the Sword went out to sea. ”

“ Which way through the floods, good carle, I pray?
"The left side yet! the left side yet!
Till your hand strikes on the bridge parapet."
"Yea so: the causeway holdeth good
Under the water?" "Hard as wood;
"Right away to the uplands; speed, good knight." ”

“ Had settled on her, all her robes were black,
⁠With a long white veil only; she went slow,
As one walks to be slain, her eyes did lack
⁠Half her old glory, yea, alas! the glow
Had left her face and hands; this was because
⁠As she lay last night on her purple bed,
Wishing for morning, grudging every pause
⁠Of the palace clocks, until that Launcelot's head
Should lie on her breast, with all her golden hair
⁠Each side—when suddenly the thing grew drear,
In morning twilight, when the grey downs bare
⁠Grew into lumps of sin to Guenevere. ”

“ Yea, for my own sake, too, and Clisson's sake.
When Guesclin told him he must be hanged soon,
Within a while he lifted up his head
And spoke for his own life; not crouching, though,
As abjectly afraid to die, nor yet
Sullenly brave as many a thief will die ”

“ Some fell from off her quivering chin.
Her long throat, stretch'd to its full length,
Rose up and fell right brokenly;
As though the unhappy heart was nigh
Striving to break with all its strength. ”

“ Men are forgetting as I speak to you;
By her head sever'd in that awful drouth
"Of pity that drew Agravaine's fell blow,
I pray your pity! let me not scream out
For ever after, when the shrill winds blow
"Through half your castle-locks! let me not shout
For ever after in the winter night
When you ride out alone! ”

“ Boom'd in the wind a knell for the dead.
Though no one toll'd it, a knell for the dead.
Lady Louise
Sister, let the measure swell
Not too loud; for you sing not well
If you drown the faint boom of the bell ”

“ Ho! is there any will ride with me,
Sir Giles, le bon des barrières?
The leopards and lilies are fair to see,
“St. George Guienne” right good to hear:
Ho! is there any will ride with me,
Sir Giles, le bon des barrières? ”

“ They bound my blood-stain'd hands together,
They bound his corpse to nod by my side:
Then on we rode, in the bright March weather,
With clash of cymbals did we ride.
We ride no more, no more together ”

“ Feet half in the water, there in a row,
⁠Long hair in the wind afloat.
"Therefore," said fair Yoland of the flowers,
"This is the tune of Seven Towers."
No one walks there now
⁠Except in the white moonlight
The white ghosts walk in a row. ”

“ Before they ripen there they fall:
There are no banners on the tower.
The draggled swans most eagerly eat
The green weeds trailing in the moat;
Inside the rotting leaky boat
You see a slain man's stiffen'd feet. ”

“ Whom have I got to lean on here, but you?
A man can die but once, will you die then,
Your brave sword in your hand, thoughts in your heart
Of all the deeds we have done here in France—
And yet may do? So God will have your soul,
Whoever has your body.
John Curzon
Why, sir, I⁠
Will fight till the last moment, until then
Will do whate'er you tell me. Now I see
We must e'en leave the walls; well, well, perhaps
They're stronger than I think for; pity, though!
For some few tons of stone, if Guesclin comes.
Sir Peter
Farewell, John, pray you watch the Gascons well,
I doubt them. ”