UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES STANDARD LITERATURE SERIES POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE SELECTED AND EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY EDWARD EVERETT HALE, Jr., Ph.D. PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND LOGIC, UNION COLLEGE 5 13£ r> UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY NEW YORK, BOSTON AND NEW ORLEANS 519 Copyright, 1897, by UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY + * + 3040 .', .•.•*%•"! •"• ..''■'. • : ; : .V. : •••..' •••■.' . • .• • * . < • • • K t £ H i3 PREFATORY NOTE. In this volume have been brought together four poems of ^ knightly adventure. In Gareth and Lynette we have Tenny- son's idealization of the knight of chivalry; in Sohrab and Rustum we have the Persian hero ; Horatius is the type of the old Roman of the Republic ; in The Vision of Sir Launfal Lowell has expressed a modern conception of knightliness. The poems are worth reading together. They are also worth comparing in the matter of poetic style. The particular point of style here discussed is Figurative Language. Other volumes in this series deal with Poetic Diction and Metre, but short notes on those topics are given here. These discussions j of style may, in parts, perhaps be thought too difficult for pupils ; but there is nothing that the teacher cannot understand and ex- plain. It is generally better to make the pupil use his intelligence to the uttermost than to simplify a matter for easy comprehension, and in so doing drain all the real sense out of it. Edward E. Hale, Jr. Union College. CONTENTS. PAGE Prefatory Note 3 Introduction 5 Biographical Sketches 5 Introductions to the Poems 9 Figures of Speech 14 Metre .... 25 Diction 29 POEMS OP KNIGHTLY ADVENTUKR Garetii and Lvnette 35 Sohrab AND Rustum 84 Horatius 112 The Vision of Sir Launfal . . ... . . . 136 INTRODUCTION. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. Tennyson. — The life of Tennyson, like that of many poets, was in the ordinary sense of the word uneventful. To one who knows the poet's work a recital of his books and their times of publishing would indicate the growth of the poet's mind and artistic power, but the ordinary reader will not see their signifi- cance. Still, a record of names and dates will be convenient for reference, if nothing more. Alfred Tennyson was born August 6, 1809, at Somerby Rectory, Lincolnshire. His father, himself something of a poet and an artist, was the village rector. Of his brothers, Frederick and Charles had also the poetic gift. Alfred received his university preparation from his father, and in 1828 went to Trinity College, Cambridge. He had already, with his brother Charles, published a volume entitled Poems by Two Brothers, and in the university he won the Chancellor's Medal for the best English poem. His first volume was published in 1830 : it was called Poems, Chiefly Lyrical. In it we can now recognize Tennyson's quali- ties ; but it was not till his second collection, Poems (1832), that we have any of his well-known woi'k. His poems were rather sharply criticised in some quarters as being effeminate and senti- mental, but he had made a name for himself as a poet of exqui- site workmanship and remarkable power of melodious effect. In 1842 came another volume, containing many well-known poems, and in 1847 The Princess : a Medley. In 1850, on the death of Wordsworth, he was already so highly esteemed as to be appointed Poet Laureate. In the same year he published In Memoriam, in 1855 Maud, and in 1864 Enoch Arden. In 1859 he published four poems entitled Idylls of the King. They were independent poems, and yet each dealt with the same group of characters, the knights and ladies of the court of King 6 INTRODUCTION. Arthur. To these four poems, Tennyson in the next twenty-five years added others (seep. 10), intended each to take a definite place in the completed poem which constitutes his greatest work. Gareth and Lynette stands first of the poems after the introduc- tion, hut it was published in 1872, next to the last. 1 The chief works of the poet's later years were di'amas. In these he was not so successful as in his earlier poems; but some of his later lyric poetry, in Tiresias (1886), Locksley Hall Sixty Years After (1886), and Demeter and Other Poems (1889), has been thought to show his old mastery. Matthew Arnold. — Thomas Arnold was the famous head master of Rugby, one of the great English public schools. Matthew Arnold, born at Laleham, December 24, 1822, some few years before his father was called to Rugby, was therefore edu- cated under the most favorable circumstances of his time. He passed a year at Winchester, and then four at Rugby, and took his degree at Oxford in 1844. He was a distinguished student, and before going up to the university he gained a, Balliol scholarship ; at Oxford he became distinguished for his literature, and gained the Newdigate Prize for the best poem, as Tennyson had gained the Chancellor's Medal at Cambridge some years before. To Education in its broader sense and to Literature, Matthew Arnold's life was devoted. In 1851 be was appointed one of the Inspectors of Schools, an office which he held for the rest of his life, working to improve the schools of England directly, and also examining the educational systems of other countries. But he also devoted himself to what we may call Education in its broader sense, for his books and essays had always the aim of arousing and stimu- lating a higher and liner intellectual tone in England. His first devotion, however, was poetry. His first volume. The Strayed Reveller and Other Poems, was published in 1848, a few years after his leaving the university : the second, Empedocles on Etna and Other Poems, in 1n">2. Sohrab and Rustum appeared first in Poem* . King, and (la refit and L/jnette, as much as any of them, are examples of Tennyson's best Avorkmanship in poems of a narrative character. The name " Idyll " would seem 1 - • " Kixicli Anli-n .-iikI other Poems," X<>. 6 of thifi series. INTRODUCTIONS TO THE POEMS. 11 to have been chosen by the poet as meaning a picture-poem, care- fully and elaborately finished. The separate poems are certainly examples of the richest and fullest art. Sohrab and Rustum. — As it appears in Arnold's works the poem is called " an episode." That is, it is given to us as though it were part of a longer poem — as, for instance, Scott might have published only the story of the meeting and combat between Fitz-James and Roderick Dhu, which as it now stands is a part of The Lady of the Lake. We are not to think, however, that Arnold ever had in mind the complete poem, of which this should have been a part. Tennyson, in writing Morte oV Arthur in 1842, spoke of it half seriously as part of an unpublished poem. The Idylls of the King was not completed till forty years and more afterward ; but as it stands now, that earlier fragment has its place in it. 1 Matthew Arnold never contemplated a sustained epic of this character ; his desire was to write a shorter poem in epic fashion. Hence, although called an episode, Sohrab and Rustum is practically complete in itself, like Gareth and Lynette, for instance. It is true that we can imagine it part of a longer poem, but on the other hand the poem tells us practically all we want to know. A word or two may, perhaps, be needful before begin- ning, about the story and the characters. The story is not original with the poet. It is a Persian story, a part of the great Epic of Kings — a long poem by Firdausi, relat- ing the deeds of the great heroes of Persia, of whom Rustum was the chief. If Matthew Arnold had translated this part of the poem, it would have been a little more accurately called an epi- sode. As it was, he took the story and told it in English verse. As is gradually unfolded in the poem as we have it, Rustum, the son of Zal, had, in earlier adventurous journeys, married a beautiful maiden, but had shortly been separated from lrer by some knightly exploit. His wife had remained with her father, and a chTld~was born to her. Fearing that the adventurous hero, if he knew he had a son, Would come and take him from her, the mother sent word that a daughter had been born to them. With not unnatural barbaric brutality, Rustum, in chagrin at not having a son who might be brought up to knightly deeds, 1 Passing of Arthur, 11. 17CM40, in " Enoch Arden and Other Poems " in this series. 12 INTRODUCTION. abandoned his wife and heard no more of her. She, however, brought up her son, who was strong and noble, and became one of tbe great warriors of Afrasiab, the Tartar king. The young champion, knowing himself the son of Rustum, ever seeks his father. The poem begins on the occasion of a great invasion of Persia by the Tartars — Sohrab among them, not their leader, but their most brilliant champion. Rustum, according to common report, is not with tbe Persian army : disgusted at the ungrateful Kai Khosroo, he is thought to have retired to his home, where he lived with his father, Zal. Horatins. — As Gareth is the type of the medieval knight errant, so we may consider Horatius the type of the old Roman knight and gentleman. In the ancient histories of Rome are many stories which we know cannot be entirely true. Romulus and Remus, for instance, twins born of a maiden and a god, were exposed in the Tiber and brought up by a she-wolf. Of course, whatever fact may bo at the bottom of the story has been exaggerated and changed. In the oldest days of Rome, the great deeds of the Romans were pre- served in many a popular legend and story and in songs and bal- lads — known to all, and sung at festivals and on great occasions. To tell the truth, the real historic records of the earliest days were destroyed in the wars and violence of the time. But ballads and popular songs never trouble to be accurate ; they give a striking account of the fact, and are content even if they are not strictly correct in their details. So the early history of Rome lived in a ballad-literature, which, as it existed only in the mouths of the poets, was gradually forgotten on the appearance of the more formal written literature that we know— the literature of Terence and Plautus, of Horace and Vergil, of Livy and Tacitus. Bfacaulay was greatly interested in this idea of a popular poetry, preserved in the memory of popular poets and preserving the fame of the great deeds of great Romans. His imagination, here as always ip. 18), worked to make the idea real to him : he imagined for himself what such old poetry might have been, and wrote the Lays of Ancient Rome. It is not necessary for us to have much historical knowledge of the matter : it is probable that the only historic fact in the whole was the invasion by Porsena, which Tacitus says was entirely successful, and not repulsed at n INTRODUCTIONS TO THE POEMS. 13 all. But that need not trouble us ; the point is that we have here, that Macaulay had in mind, a piece of simple and stirring ballad-poetry, such as we may read in our own tongue. Of course Macaulay was not a simple old balladist, however ; and so his poem is not precisely a ballad. Just as Sir Walter Scott, in the Lay of the Last Minstrel, or in Marmion, wrote a poem full of the life and spirit of the old ballad-poetry which he knew so well, so Macaulay produced a longer, more polished poem, which should give us later readers some sort of an idea of what the old Roman ballad-poetry was. In his preface to the poem he shows that there probably had been a ballad on Hora- tius and his defense of the bridge among the old poems which were sung in ancient Rome. The Vision of Sir Launfal was one of Lowell's early poems. His first poems were published in 1843 ; the Vision only five years later. The two things that have made it so widely known as it is are both more characteristic of the poet in his youth than of his later years. The love of nature never left him ; but there is a fresh exuberance of youth to the feeling which created the atmosphere of full, warm summer and of hard, piercing winter. So also is the moral and allegoric character of the poem due to the feeling, strong with Lowell at this time, that his poems must not only please but teach. On this last matter there is much to say on either side. For my own part, I feel that so plain-spoken a moral will not be very useful to us in the long run ; although it will, at the time of read- ing, appeal to our moral sense, and very possibly make clear to us something that we have already realized but dimly. On the other hand it will be said, Here is a true, a guiding principle of life which can never fail to be of service to us, put in the form of a beautiful poem, which will never be forgotten by one who has once read it with care. Certainly, taking the poem as a strength- ener of our moral nature, it ranges other things on the right side ; the full, fresh summer is for us henceforward a sign of open- heartedness ; and even the hard cold of winter will be to us better than the hardness of a cold heart. This obvious moral element is often thought of as unpoetic : Lowell himself sometimes thought so. Practically, we need not bother ourselves much about the names. If we get pleasure, and 14 INTRODUCTION". lasting good besides, from the poem, we are so much the richer. But, however we may feel about the moral element, there can be no doubt about the other element of which we spoke — the feeling for the beauty of nature. Not to mention the constant allusions, nor the artistic care with which the feeling of the poem is echoed or contrasted in the descriptions of nature, we may think espe- cially of the two famous passages, the appreciation of summer (11. 33-70), and the ice- working of the brook (11. 174-210). These passages unite the keen observation of the lover of nature with the living imagination of the poet. FIGURES OF SPEECH. It is not an easy matter to give a good definition of Figure of Speech. The reason for this is that very many kinds of expres- sion have been called " figures of speech " which are really not alike except in the fact that they are not plain, straightforward ways of speaking. But it is not enough to say that a figure of speech is a departure from the ordinary direct mode of expression ; for that definition would include many forms of sentence-struct- ure, many variations of diction, which we do not commonly think of as figures. The fact is that the older writers called almost any mode of expression which could not be readily classified other- wise a " figure of speech." The result is that, in the old books on poetry or rhetoric, there sometimes are more than a hundred figures mentioned, each with a long name, and all together mak- ing a very confusing collection. For us it will be enough to understand some of the commoner figures— to know what they are, how they come to be used, and what sort of effect they have. And in doing this we shall not have much difficulty ; for, if it be hard to find any common like- ness between all the modes of expression that rhetoricians have at one time or another chosen to call " figures of speech," it is not especially hard to learn the chief things about the commoner figures, A. Figures Based upon Resemblance. One of our commonest habits is to compare one thing with another. Indeed, it is not only the commonest habit, but the FIGURES OF SPEECH. 15 most necessary ; for if we did not compare things, and see how they resemble each other and how they differ, we should never really know anything about them. All science is built up on resemblance and difference. Not only in science, however, but in poetry, is resemblance a common thing. Even in everyday conversation we are always remarking resemblances: "as good as gold," "as firm as a rock," we say ; "like lightning," "like a fish." If we cant think of a comparison strong enough, we say, 'You never saw anything like it." Comparisons are not a posses- sion of the poet only ; everybody uses them. But the poet is always thinking of fresh and beautiful ones ; most people use the same old comparisons that have been in the language for years. But not all comparisons are called figures of speech. There is a difference in the kind of subject-matter. If we say of a boy, " John is as big as an elephant," we should call it a figure. But if we say, "John is as big as his father was at his age," we should not call it a figure, but an ordinary comparison. The difference is that in the latter case we wanted to express with precision an actual fact ; we state it in plain, simple words of which the mean- ing is obvious. In the former case, however, we merely wish to give a striking impression ; we mean that John is a very big boy. He is not really as large even as a very small elephant ; but we connect the idea of bigness with the elephant, and so we make the comparison, knowing that it will make on the mind a strong impression of size. This difference is often stated by saying that a simile is the statement of resemblance between things of different kinds, while the resemblance between things of the same kind or class is called simply a comparison. Thus, "John" and "his father at his age " are of the same kind or class — namely, boys ; but " John" and ' ' an elephant " are of different kinds. This distinction rather simplifies the actual facts, but it comes near enough to a state- ment of the case. In Gareth and Lynette, when B ellicent says, " Thy father Lot beside the hearth Lies like a log, and all but smoulder'd out," 11. 73, 74, 16 INTRODUCTION. we have a simile; for a man and a log are of different kind. But later, in the line, " The three were clad like tillers of the soil," 1. 178, we have but a comparison ; for we are merely comparing one kind of man with another. In poetry we are not so apt to find comparisons as similes ; for the poet generally thinks, not so much of stating precise facts as they may happen to exist, but rather of saying what will be sug- gestive and stirring to the imagination. We have so far spoken as if all figures of speech based on resemblance were similes. But there are other ways in which we may express a figurative comparison. Suppose we say, ' ' He had no sooner begun the investigation than he was worried by a thou- sand minor annoyances," and suppose we want to make some figurative comparison. 1. We may state it directly. "He had no sooner begun the investigation than he was worried by a thousand minor annoy- ances, as a big bear seeking for honey is bothered by a swarm of bees." 2. We may speak of the matter as if it wei*e something else. " He had no sooner poked his nose into the matter than he was assailed by a swarm of bothers that threatened to sting the life out of him." 3. We may state the fact, and then state something else and imply that the two are alike : "He had no sooner begun the investigation than he was worried by a thousand minor annoy- ances : the bear had roused a swarm of stinging bees." Of these three ways the first is called a Simile and the second a Metaphor. The third, if it were longer, would be called an Allegory. It is not so common a figure in English as either of the others ; but we will call it an Allegory, whether it be long, as a story, or short, as in a single sentence. It is curious to note that poets and prose- writers as well use these figures very differently. In the first place, some use a great many more than others ; Lowell, for instance, may be compared with Macaulay. The Vision of Sir Launfal is full of figura- tive likenesses, expressed or suggested ; Horatius has hardly FIGURES OF SPEECH. 17 any. l This anybody would notice at the first reading ; it might not be so obvious that Sohrab and Rustum has more figures than Hora- tins, but not so many in proportion to its length as Gareth and Lynette, while this last has, proportionately, not nearly so many as Sir Launfal. Let us understand this matter before we go farther. Why does one poet use more figures of comparison than another ? Is it because he is more of a poet ? The answer is not quite so simple as that. We may certainly say that a great store of fresh, beautiful figures shows a strong, a poetic imagination. Read Sir Launfal, and see how everything suggested to Lowell some figurative comparison. The passage on the frozen brook is as good an example as any other. This shows what would be called " a poetic imagination." But how about the other side ? Can an imagination be poetic which does not bring up such comparisons ? In Macaulay there is little of all this. We have, not a multitude of short figures, but a few long ones. When Astur falls, under the blow of Horatius, Macaulay thinks of the fall of a mighty tree, and writes : "And the great Lord of Luna Fell at that deadly stroke, As falls on Mount Alvernus A thunder-smitten oak. Far o'er the crashing forest The giant arms lie spread ; And the pale augurs, muttering low, Gaze on the blasted head." In Sir Launfal there is but one comparison of such length (11. 205-210), and even this is hardly a true simile ; but, on the other hand, almost every sentence suggests some figurative com- parison. Now, shall we say that Lowell had a greater imagination than Macaulay ? Certainly, in one respect, Macaulay had a greater imagination that Lowell ; that is, he rarely thought of anything 1 A direct comparison can be made by rate of 152 per 1,000. Horatius (589 11.) has actually counting the figures and stating the 16 per 1,000. We may, then, say that there results in ratios per 1,000 lines. Thus, Sir are about 10 times as many figures in Sir Launfal has about 54 figures (excluding Launfal as in Horatius. tropes, see p. 21) in 352 lines, which is at the 18 INTRODUCTION. without its suggesting to him some definite image. Read stanzas iv. and v. of Horatius, and see how every town mentioned calls to his mind something definite about it — the giant hold of Volaterrae : Populonia, with the expanse of sea before her ; Pisa?, with its crowded harbor — each one brought to mind by some particular circumstance. Macaulay makes these places real to himself, which is certainly more than Lowell does for the castle of Sir Launfal. Read Horatius with this idea in mind, and see what a power Macaulay had of realizing his conceptions. 1 We must allow that, as far as constructive imagination is concerned, Macaulay is the superior. Let us then, just now at least, not bother ourselves with trying to determine which is the best poet. Let us be satisfied in see- ing what kind of poet each one is. We see Macaulay's imagina- tion making everything real and living to him (cf. Horatius, 11. 106-121 ; 168-200) ; we see Lowell's imagination playing about everything that comes to mind, adorning everything with roses, as it were, half- fantastic, exuberant. It will be worth while to read Sohrab and Rustum, and Gareth and Lynette, to see what you can discover of Tennyson and Arnold. In this respect you will find that Tennyson is more like Lowell, and Arnold more like Macaulay. So far, however, we have merely thought of figures altogether, without considering their especial kinds. Let us now consider the differences we noted above. Note the following passage : " But as a troop of peddlers, from Cabool, Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus, That vast sky-neighboring mountain of milk snow , Crossing so high, that, as they mount, they pass, Long flocks of traveling birds dead on the snow, Choked by the air, and scarce can they themselves Slake their parched throats with sugared mulberries — In .single file they move, and stop their breath, For fear they should dislodge the o'erhanging snows — So the pale Persians held their breath with fear." Sohrab und Rustum, 11. 160-109. 1 Of course, this is one of the great characteristics of his prose. Notice, also, what is paid (p. 32) of his use of h[k-< iti<- words. FIGURES OF SPEECH. 19 Here the picture of the terrified mei*chants stands out clear and distinct in our minds, and we think how the Persians must have held their breaths at the challenge of Sohrab. But now read this : " To weary her ears with one continuous prayer, Until she let me fly diseaged to sweep In ever-highering eagle-circles up To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop Down upon all things base, and dash them dead, A knight of Arthur, working out his will, To cleanse the world." Gaveth and Lynette, 11. 19-25. This is very different. We get the idea, certainly. Gareth compares himself, as a knight of King Arthur, to a great eagle ; but he speaks all in a breath of the eagle and himself. We have no clear-cut picture, but the rush of the soaring eagle and the flash of Gareth in his armor all in one moment. This is the difference between Simile and Metaphor : one is more distinct, the other is more brilliant. If you will read Sohrab and Rustuni, keeping your eye out for figm^es, you will find full twent y °f these long sustained figures. In Gareth and Lynette there are much fewer ; ' in Horatius, only three ; 2 in Sir Launfal, none. 'Hence the style of Sohrn h and Ri istum has a certain ^dis tinctness to it. On the other hand, Gareth and Lynette is full of short similes — not full pictures, but just a word or two; and has also a good many metaphors. All this gives a sort of brilliancy. Sohrab and Rustuni has but o ne_ su stained m etajdio r; and few short s imiles, and the sa.me - m a vb e- said of Horatius. In Sohrab and Rustuni, then, we may say that the figures tend to gi ve a m ore clear-cut impression, a more definite outline_ j_in_ Gareth and Lynette, we have a more glowing and brilliant effect. The difference is something like that between a Greek statue of white marble and a modern picture, with all its fullness of color. The difference should be noted : it is not a difference in degree of excellence ; it is rather a difference between kinds of excellence. The manner of Arnold is sometimes called classic^ and the manner of Tennyson is called romantic. Concerning these two « For instance, 11. 1116-1119. 2 For instance, 11. 412-416. 20 INTRODUCTION. words as applied to style, and especially to poetic style, the fol- lowing has heen written : "In classical writing, every idea is called up to the mind as nakedly as possible, and, at the same time, as distinctly ; it is exhibited in white light, and left to produce its own effect by its own unaided power. In romantic writing, on the other hand, all objects are exhibited, as it were, through a colored and iridescent atmosphere. Round about every central idea the romantic writer summons up a cloud of accessory subordinate ideas for the sake of enhancing the effect at the risk of confusing its outlines. The temper, again, of the romantic writer is one of excitement, while the temper of the classical writer is one of self-possession. . . . On the one hand, there is calm, on the other, enthusiasm ; the virtues of one style are strength of grasp, with clearness and just- ness of presentment ; the virtues of the other style are glow of spirit, with magic and richness of suggestion." ' So far as metaphors and similes are concerned, Tennyson is romantic. But we must also note another kind of figure. In Gareth and Lynette, 1. 141 : "Who walks thro' fire will hardly heed the smoke." Bellicent means that Gareth, not minding the petty annoyances that must come with the great trial he undergoes, would be like one who, in walking through fire, would not heed the smoke. 2 But she does not directly say, "You will be like one who walks through lire," etc. She leaves us to guess the application. This we have called Allegory, for it is not simile and it is not meta- phor ; and it is in character like the longer figures which are commonly called allegories. Thus, in the allegory of Gareth and the four brothers (11. 618 ft'., 1169), the comparisons are merely suggested, not stated. The temptations of youth are alluring and charming, but may be overcome by impetuous resistance : the temptations of middle age are powerful and blinding — one must deal with them as one may ; the temptations of age are old habits that must be wrestled with long and bitterly, and after all these 'Sidney Colvin, in the Introduction to than does fire; but then, in away, the petty Selections from Landor. annoyances of this world may be more kill- ' Actually, smoke kills far more quickly Ing than its great Borrows. FIGURES OF SPEECH. 21 struggles comes death, which is in reality not so awful as we have thought. All these things are suggested by the battles of Gareth with the four brothers, but the comparisons are not defi- nitely stated. This we call Allegory. But just the same kind of figure are the shorter stories of 11. 42 ff., 100 ff., 982-987, and the symbolism of 11. 212 ff., 1174 ff. ; and of just the same kind also (suggesting a comparison, but not stating it as in simile or meta- phor) are the shorter figures of the lines, ' ' Lion and stoat have isled together . . . in time of flood " (11. 871, 2), or " red berries charm the bird" (1. 84). The allegory, then, in various forms is common in Gareth and Lynette. It is a figure, on the whole, romantic in character. Eastern literature, Arabic and Persian as well as Hebrew, abounds in it; the literature of the Middle Ages is full of it. Allegory may be found in the classics ; but, on the whole, as is easily seen, it does not help the calm, clear beauty of outline which the classic poets aimed to gain : it is indefinite, vague, mystical. So far as these three figures are concerned, Simile, Metaphor, Allegory— it will be seen that Sohrab and Rustum is especially marked by its classic similes ; that Gareth and Lynette has bril- liant romantic figures of various kinds ; that Sir Launfal has immense wealth of fanciful metaphor ; that Horatius has few figures of any kind. Each poem has, then, a certain character of style given by its figures, which, had we time, we might see marked more strongly by its diction and expression, by its sub- ject and mode of thought. There is one word more to be said of figures of this kind — or. rather, of metaphors in particular. In studying diction ' we have already seen that figurative words are very common in poetry ; i.e., single words which suggest a figure that is not carried far. These figurative words are called "tropes," the meaning is of a word ' ' turned away " from its literal, prosaic meaning into some figurative sense. We shall speak further concerning the tropes or figurative diction of the poets we are studying on p. 33 ; but now it will be enough to call attention to one point. Words sug- gestive of figures are very common in language ; we all use them every day, and that without thinking of them as figures. Thus we might say, " hebrooded over his wrongs," without ever think- Introduction to Scott's Lady of the Lake. 22 INTRODUCTION. ing of bens, or "his blood boiled," without thinking of it as being even over 100°. But these expressions when first used were really figurative, like very many other words which we use. To "prevent " meant really " to get ahead of " ; to " inspire " meant really "to breathe into" : but now nobody remembers that, and we use the words as though they were perfectly literal. These metaphorical words may be called "petrified metaphors'' ; for there is no more life in them, and they are, as it were, turned to stone. We need not trouble about them in studying figures, for no one thinks of their figurative meaning. A poet uses fresh, living figures ; sometimes he revives old meanings, sometimes he sug- gests new ones. . B. Other Figures. There are many other figures of speech mentioned by writers on poetry, as we have already said ; but we shall not study them all particularly. We shall merely note the main characteristics of a few, which will suggest to us something interesting in the poets we are studying. Personification. — The figure of personification is, as every- one knows, the speaking of some inanimate thing as if it were a person. Thus, where Macaulay says of the city of Cortona that she " lifts to heaven fler diadem of towers," he thinks of the city in the form of a beautiful woman. When Lowell says of the brook (1. 181) that he heard the wind and built a roof, he thinks of the brook as a man looking after himself i i i bad weather. When Tei i nys< >n writes, ' ' a slender-shafted Pine, lost footing, fell, and so was whirled away" (1. 4), he thinks of the tree as a person who actually fa 1 Is into the torrent. When Arnold speaks of the river Oxus "rejoicing . . . under the solitary moon," he thinks of it as having life and personality. Personilieation is. and always has been, common in poetry. The poet conceives of the world as full of movement and life; and just as the ancient (i reeks really believed in spirits of the trees and water-springs, of the mountains and the sea,— spirits of human shape and beauty,— SO the poets are apt to think of things which have not life as if they had. FIGURES OF SPEECH. 23 One form of personification, and the simplest, is that of speak- ing of some abstraction as though it were a person. Thus, Gold- smith writes : " And shouting Folly hails them from the shore "; and we can all remember the analogies in the other arts — statues of Justice, pictures of Charity!! You must remember that this is not the only kind of Personification. It is not necessary that we use a capital letter ; nor, on the other hand, is it enough to do so. Personification is sometimes thought of as a figure of resem- blance. The poet, it is said, thinks of the city as being like a beautiful woman, of the brook as being like a wise and busy builder. But this, I hardly think, is so ; for the moment the poet thinks of the city as a woman. If you cannot understand that, you must read more poetry until you can. Metonymy and Synecdoche. — There are a number of figures which go in general under the name of Metonymy and Synecdoche, which all arise from our way of alluding to things by the most striking circumstance or part. Metonymy is the nam- ing something by some accompaniment which comes naturally to mind. It is of very many kinds. Sometimes "a significant adjunct" gives a name, as when we say "blue-coat" or "blue- jacket" for soldier or sailor. Sometimes the name of the con- tainer is used for the thing contained, as when we say "a long purse," meaning the money that is in it. Sometimes we speak of the effect, meaning the cause, as when we say "gray hairs" for the old age which causes them. Quite as common is Synecdoche, or the using the name of a part for a whole, as when we say "wheel" for "bicycle," or "trolley" for "electric railroad." There are other kinds of metonymy and synecdoche, but these are the more common forms. They come from a desire to indicate anything by whatever attracts most notice. These figures are not uncommon in daily speech : the examples of wheel and trolley show how they arise. They are a part of the poetry of everyday conversation. On the other hand, they are not so very common in real poetry. Of course, the poet uses the expressions of common talk if he chooses ; but he is not nearly so apt to invent new metonymies and synecdoches as he is to invent new similes. Such, at least, is the 24 INTRODUCTION. case with the poems we have in hand. All the reasons for this I cannot at present suggest. One, however, is that Tennyson, Macau- lay, Arnold, at least, in these narrative poems, with all their figura- tive similes and metaphors, do study a concreteness and directness of diction: and to this (he use of metonymyis opposed. It may Be more natural to say "a sail " when you mean a certain vessel seen at sea, hut it calls up a more distinct picture to say " a schooner." It may he more brilliant to say, " he seized his hlade," but it gives a more distinct picture to say " he seized his broadsword." If you will look at what is said on pp. 29-34 on the diction of these poems, you will see that it is generally specific and concrete; hence, there arc not many metonymies and synecdoches. Interrogation and Exclamation. — When Lowell writes, " What is so rare as a day in June ? " we know that he expects no answer to the question. It is a ques- tion in form only. When he writes, " And hark ! how clear bold chanticleer, Warmed with the new wine of the year, Tells all in his lusty crowing," we are conscious that he has departed from the plain manner of prose, which generally uses statements rather than exclamations. In narrative poems, such as these we are studying, these devices, which are often called figures of speech, are not very common. But one or two things are worth noting. One is that in Horatius you will find a few, for Horatius is written as though it were an old ballad (p. 12), an old song sung to listeners. Hence, Macau- lay writes : "But hark ! the cry is Astur: And lo ! the ranks divide," 348, 349. But in general you will not find many such expressions; for they rather interfere with the clearness and directness which we have spoken of elsewhere. In Lowell also you will find a few such, but for a somewhat different reason. They occur in the prelude to Part One. where the tone of the poet — see especially 11. 9-32— is much as if he were talking to somebody. The passage is not narrative, but rather METRE. 25 lyrical. In narrative poems such figures are rare ; in Sohrab and Rustum you will not find one of them, except in the lan- guage of one or another of the characters. It is not, then, neces- sary to poetry that we should have these unusual expressions ; we may have the plainest kind of sentence, and especially in nar- rative poetry. There are many other modes of speech which are called Figures, but we have noted the commonest. In your study of them always bear in mind one thing : a figure of speech in a poem is an indication of the way a poet thinks. Do not look at it as just something in a book to be learned about ; think of it as something that will give you, in some slight degree, to understand the work- ings of a poet's mind. That is not, it is true, one of the reasons for reading poetry ; we read poetry to gain pleasure from it. But it is one of the reasons for studying poetry ; for an appreciation of how a poet thinks will enable us to read his work more read- ily and sympathetically, and therefore with more pleasure. METRE. A few notes are added here, on Rhythm and Rhmye, for those who have already made a beginning in the subject. References are made to the study of the subject in the Introduction to Ten- nyson's Enoch Arden and Other Poems (No. 6 in this Series). Those who have studied other systems of metre, however, will apprehend the following remarks by remembering the notation. Unaccented syllables are indicated by x, accented by a ; thus, an iambic foot is xa, a trochaic foot ax, etc. The figure before the foot indicates the measure ; thus, 5xa is iambic pentameter, iax trochaic tetrameter, etc. Oareth and Lynette. — The poem is in blank verse, 5xa unrhymed. Examples of the customary variations are as follows : A. Substitution of ax for xa. 1. Especially in the first foot ; note the emphatic effect in 11. 23, 62, 104, 128, 149, 503 (note the effect of the pause) ; 118, 191, 887 (note the pause at the end of the second foot, a common cadence with Tennyson) ; 796 (cf. C xxa in third foot) ; 939 (note the effect of the repetition ; the three lines beginning with an accent, 26 INTRODUCTION. the fourth line running in normal form,, and the fifth again beginning with an accent). 2. Rarely in the second foot, 1. 181 ; occasionally in the third, 11. 16, 169, 219, 235, 527, 559 ; less often in the fourth, 11. 89, 142, 173, 1004. B. Substitution of xxaa for xaxa ; not so common as in Sohrab and Rustum : 11. 85, 182, 198, 225, 418. C. Substitution of xxa for xa (anapcestic movement). This occurs quite frequently ; note the following lines how the light- ness of the metre harmonizes with the thought : " Linger with vacillating obedience," 13. " In ever-highering eagle-circles up," 21. " Wept from her sides as water flowing away," 213. " Melody on branch, and melody in mid-air," 180. " Would hurry thither, and when he saw the knights," 511. " Tumbled it ; oilily bubbled up the mere," 790. " He drave his enemy backward down the bridge," 945. D. Feminine lines; xax f or xa in the last line. E.g., 11. 8, 356, 566, 1155, 1169, 1246, 1366. The three songs should also be noted : 11. 974-976 ; 1034-1036, 1040-1043, 1049-1051 ; 1130-1132. They are of the same rhythm as the rest of the poem, and consist of stanzas, each made of a couplet and a third line of the nature of a refrain. Sohrab and Rustum. — The metre of Sohrab and Rustum is also blank verse. We do not give an analysis of its peculiari- ties, for it will be more useful for the pupil to go over the differ- ent usages and compare with Gareth and Lynette. Thus it will be found thai the ax foot occurs often at the beginning of the line, but that there are no such repetitions for effect as in Gareth mill Li/nette, 11. 'XV.) !)43. There are not so many substitutions of the xxa foot, bo that the poem has a somewhat graver, less ani- mated motion, as suits the subject. There are many more lines with xxaa for xaxa, as: " And tin- fljst' gray' of morning filled the east," 1. 1. "Was dulled : for he slept' light', an old man's sleep," 1. 29. This concentration of accents takes away from the lightness METRE. 27 of movement; indeed it is rather more like the usual rhythm of prose. These points should be looked up and exemplified in the poem. Horatius. — The metre of Horatius is an old English ballad- metre made more regular. That metre consisted of stanzas of four lines, the first and third being 3xa lines with feminine end- ing, the second and fourth being Zxa ; ax and xxa feet being often substituted for the xa foot. This is a good swinging ballad- metre, but you can see that it would be rather tiresome in so long a poem as this ; there would be a hundred and fifty stanzas to it. So Macaulay makes some changes, as follows : 1. He makes the regular stanzas of eight lines instead of four. In the other Lays, especially The Battle of Lake Regillus and The Prophecy of Capys, he makes the stanzas of very variable length. 2. He often makes the stanzas even longer by introducing a line that will rhyme with one of the lines otherwise unrhymed (either the third or seventh), as in the first stanza. 3. He often introduces more than one line in such cases, as in stanza xxi, giving a peculiar effect. 1 The repetition of the rhyme irives us a prolonged sustained feeling. Thus in stanza xxi : " And nearer fast and nearer Doth the red whirlwind come ; And louder still and still more loud—" Now we expect a line rhyming with come : but we do not get it, nor at the next line. Our expectation is prolonged in a way that serves to harmonize with the rolling warcloud and the long array of spears. The effect may be observed in many stanzas, espe- cially in xlix, where the fourfold rhyme gives especial emphasis to the picture of the fierce old bear, the type of Rome at bay. 4. He lengthens the third or seventh line of the stanza ; some- times with a rhyme, making what is really two short lines : " Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest." 5. We have also the ordinary variations of iambic verse, as noted above. > Cf. Sir Launfal, 1. 167. 2 - INTRODUCTION. A. ax for xa: " Piled' by the hands of gi'ants For godlike kings of old." 28, 29. B. xxaa for xaxa, generally at the beginning' of the line : " From the proud' mart' of Pisne, Queen of the western waves." C. xxa for xa in 11. 12, 20, 24, 92, etc. D. Lines 1, 3, 5, 7 in each stanza are regularly feminine. These variations break up the regularity which might prove monotonous and are themselves pleasant in effect. The Vision of Sir Launfal. — The metre of the poem is not wholly regular. It begins with a series of 5xa lines, but 'with no anapaestic (xxa) variation till the eighth line, in wavering. It continues with 4xa verses, lighter in character because shorter. In the following lines (21-32) both rhyme and rhythm are smarter, more jingly, we might almost say ; the change of form (the fre- quent anapaests and double rhymes) comes to suit the transition to the semi-satirieal tone. But the same light dancing rhythm and the same double rhymes suit the glowing lines on summer. Read 11. 33-79 and see how the rhythm seems to move along. In the lines that follow, the movement is a little more regular, for the thought is graver and more serious. So the poem goes on with a certain irregularity of rhythm ; sometimes we have a slow -moving 4.ra lacking the first syllable (11. 127, 154), sometimes we have the long and rapid lines (174, 178), or the shorter, but quite as swift lines (46, 113) ; the rhyme varies too, sometimes coming in couplets, sometimes alternately ; sometimes simple single rhymes, sometimes dancing double rhymes (37, 38; 44, 46). The rhythm and rhyme are constantly varied as the mood of the poet changes. For it is hardly to be thought that Lowell planned out before- hand the modulations and movements of his verse and his thought ; that docs not seem to have been his way of working. This poem, at least, he is said to have written in two days : and it w as rarely his habit to revise his work carefully. It would seem, therefore, as though the truth were something like this : DICTION. 29 When the poet was in the full flush of his exuberant thought of springtime, the words came hurrying, and no lines would suit him which had not life and movement to them ; but in graver moments, when his mind paused a moment, as it always does in thought, his hand paused too, and instinctively his verse took a slower movement, which, as he read the lines he had written, he saw was good. DICTION. The student of the note on poetic diction in the Introduction to Scott's Lady of the Lake (No. 9 of this Series) will notice some differences between the points noted there and the chief points in these poems. Yet the principles are practically the same. Garetb and Lynette. — There are a good many archaic ex- pressions, for the story is of olden time. Thou, thee, ye, and verbal forms in -st and -th may be found in abundance ; so. also, be as indicative present (11. 237, 238, 261, 613), and preterites in a, as brake, 1. 57 ; drave, 1. 201 ; sjiake, 1. 295. The following words also occur frequently : an, 11. 37, 40, 50, 98, 142, 252, etc. ; so, 11. 131, 263, 268, 339, 507, 588, etc. ; save, 11. 107, 136 : albeit, 11. 82, 121; whereof, 1. 66; saving, 261; anon, 1. 193; lo, 1. 73. So also glamour (magic), 1. 202; boon, 1. 327; mien, 1. 443; casque, 1. 665; reave, 1. 411 ; deem, 1. 120 ; slay, 371 ; crave, 861; and such uses as were (= would be), 11. 17, 51; had (= would have), 11. 366, 821 ; shoidd (= were to), 1. 226. Besides the fact that the poem is of olden time there are other reasons for the archaic diction. One is that Tennyson naturally has Malory's Morte d' Arthur in mind, which is full of ancient expressions : brexvis, avail (advantage), lightly (quickly), worship (honor). Another influence would seem to be that of Spenser, ruth, wreak, bought, trenchant, clomb. 1 There is none of the conventional diction {sylvan bowers, etc.), such as we sometimes find in poetry. On the other hand, there is extreme simplicity in the diction, coming perhaps from the large proportion of words of old English origin in it. There are some abbreviations, but less than in The Lady of the Lake. 1 G. C. Macaulay's edition of Gareth and Lynette. 30 INTRODUCTION. There is a strong tendency toward specific words, not so much toward figurative words. Thus : •- . . . " Gareth, in a showerful spring Stared at the spate." Here the poet has compounded the word showerful to describe spring ; the word gives a very definite idea ; rainy would mean something else. He says stared instead of looked, a more gen- eral word, and uses the Scottish word spate instead of flood. Figurative words are not so common as archaic words. The stu- dent should note such examples as "to grace Thy climbing life, and cherish my prone year," 93, 94. Some peculiarities should be mentioned which did not occur in the note on diction alluded to. Coined compounds, often alliterative : gloomy -gladed, 1. 777; full-fair, 1. 825; bone-battered, 1024; May-music, 1. 1054; deep- di m pled, 1. 1063; fast-falling, 1. 90 ; storm-strengthened, 1.677: foul-fleshed, 1. 729; princely-proud, 1. 158 ; tourney -skill, 1. 1016; shield-lions, 1. 1186; lance-splintering, 1. 1273; slender- shafted, 1. 3; silver-misty, 1. 186; wan-sallow, 1. 444. So also does he use such obvious derivatives as discaged, 1. 20 ; fluent, 1. 454; decrescent, increscent, 1. 519 ; ever-highering, 1. 21 ; co-twisted, 1. 222 ; youthhood, 1. 566 ; waveringly, 1. 914. Expressions like these come from the poetic desire for com- pressed speech ; it is more stinking to express one's thought in a few words than in a longer roundabout expression. Some writers have thought that this feeling for condensed expression was the explanation for the poetic use of abbreviation. Sohrab and Rustum. — The diction of Sohrab and Rustum will be found to have less archaism than that of Gareth and Lunette. The pronouns thou, thine, ye ; the forms in -st and -th ; preterites in a, as spake, 1. 149 ; sate, 1. 199; in o, as shore, 1. 497 ; chire, 1. 496 ; certain usages like the avoidance of the auxiliary, aa in knew not, 1. 283; inversion, as in soon be that day, 1. 836 — these are merely the signs of a diction which, like that of the DICTION - . 31 Bible, is distinguished and elevated above common speech, but not especially characteristic of ancient time. There is an absolute lack of old-fashioned "poetic diction," 1 nor are abbreviations common ; o'er and "'tis occur several times, but there are few others. To one who has been reading The Lady of the Lake or The Idylls of the King, the diction of this poem will seem very plain and colorless. It is, indeed, far more nearly than either of those poems, the language of prose. Matthew Arnold greatly admired the poet Words worth, and one of Wordsworth's poetic principles was that the words of poetry should be the same as the words of prose. In this poem Matthew Arnold is strongly classi- cal in his workmanship, as Tennyson and Lowell are romantic. The difference between classic work and romantic work has already been explained : here it will be enough to say that although Arnold uses the simple, unadorned, direct language of prose, yet bis diction is not what we call prosaic ; his language is as far from the careless familiarity of our every-day conversation as a classic statue is from the careless attitudes of our intimate every-day life. His desire is to give a clear and definite concep- tion of a noble subject, a conception that shall have the distmcf. and sharply-cut outline of a great mountain against the blue sky. It is necessary that his language should be not quite that of common speech ; hence he uses expressions which have a gravity and dignity to us because we associate them with sacred and reverent utterance. But he does not otherwise use minor devices of language, for they might distract his readers from the main object. 2 As it is his purpose to be clear cut and sure, he is definite and specific in his wording as in his pictures. Peran-Wisa, rising from the warm rugs, puts on a woollen coat and a black sbeepskin cap, and over all a white cloak, ties his sandals to his feet and takes a staff in his hand. We have here a distinct imagination. With this compare the description of Gareth, who dropped his long cloak and stood forth as brilliant as a dragon-fly issuing from a cocoon (11. 667-674). This is a more brilliant piece of imagina- tion, but not so distinct. Note the description of the three brother knights in Gareth and Lynette : the Morning-Star reflected in 1 Introduction to The Lady of the Lake, 5 Thus he has but few figures, and we have p. x. already seen (p. 19) what is their effect. 32 INTRODUCTION. the clear stream, 11. 911-916 ; the Noonday Sun almost blinding the beholders, 11. 1000-1002 ; the Star of Evening, whose garb of hardened skins we hear of in the words of Lynette, 11. 1065-1069 ; the black knight, Death, "crowned with fleshless laughter," 1. 1348. These are imaginative descriptions, but the figures lack the clear and classic outline of Rustum at the table. 11. 196-200 ; of Ruksh, 11. 272-279 ; of the tomb of Sohrab, 11. 788-791. To this desire for clear definite] less belongs Arnold's use of specific words, as silt, 1. 769; caked, 1. 736; smirched, 1. 701; Jt addling, 1. 563; and so on. Horatius. — The diction of Horatius is marked chiefly by its exact and specific character. The student will easily observe the extent to which the diction is archaic; thou, ye, spake, bare; some few poetic forms, as morn, 1. 69 ; mart, 1. 34 ; yore, 1. 73 ; I wis, 1. 138 (incorrect for ywiss); I ween, 1. 518; hied, 1. 145; lo, 1. 243 ; smote, 1. 279 ; in all we have a slightly archaic coloring. It will also be observed that the diction is not figurative ' ; the poet states directly what he has to say much as one would say it in prose. But the diction is specific ; and that is because for everything that he said Macaulay had an idea in mind that was very definite indeed, and for every idea that he wished to express he had the right words. So in the lines " Shall plunge the struggling sheep," 61. " This year, the must shall foam," 63. The specific word in the first case fills out the picture ; in the second case it is the one right word to express an idea which would otherwise demand a roundabout expression. Often the specific words add more than one would think at iir.st. Thus, in the lines following, tho specific words convey a considerable meaning to one who understands them. See the notes in each case: 1. 37. fair-haired; 1. 115, skins; 1. 144, girded; 1. 196, ivory; 1. 277, Commons; 1. 360, litter; 1. 470, tawny. Macaulay'a greatest power in poetry, as in prose, was the double power of realization. He realized his own ideas in mind : that is, he made his imaginations take form as if they had been actual 1 Nor arc there many figure* ; see p. 17, note. DICTION. 33 experiences, he made things which had been only to others be as though they had been to him ; that in tbe first place ; and in the second, he expressed his realized ideas, so that they come as nearly as may be to be real to the reader. Such is Macaulay's chief power as a poet — that he makes that which is not seem as if it were real. The Vision of Sir Launfal.— So far as archaic words are concerned, Sir Launfal is not absolutely uniform; it will be good exercise to find out how and why. In regard to the following words, mention whether or not it is an archaism, whether the archaism occurs throughout the poem, and, if not, see if the idea explains the use of the form. 1. What reason may be given for the use of (a) Thou, 11. 282, 283 ; Thee, 11. 280, 287, 320 ; Thy, 1. 284 ? (b) Didst, 1. 319 ? (c) Lo, 1. 315 ; Behold, 1. 318 ? 2. Is there any reason for doth, 1. 10 ; hath, 1. 23 ; instead of does and has f The other verbs in the poem do not have the ending in -th. 3. Is there anything to be said of list, 1. 3 ; lay, 1. 4 ? 4. Of an alms, 1. 273 ; me, 1. 162 ? 5. Are there any abbreviations in the poem ? Are they con- versational or not ? Cf. 11. 29, 47. The diction is rather figurative than specific, as Macaulay in Horatius is specific rather than figurative. 1 The two qualities are not contrary to each other, but you can see easily enough that a man who is chiefly bent on getting an exact view of any- thing will not be likely to think of comparing it to something else ; and, on the other hand, a man who, when he mentions any- thing, always thinks also of something else, will not be so likely to be definite as to the thing itself. Most poets, however, have something of both gifts, the imaginative vision tbat calls up the vivid picture, and also the imaginative comparison that brings to mind some resemblance. In Lowell this latter power was the more developed. Not only is this poem full of more extended figures, but there are many tropes, or figures, implied in single 1 We have already compared the frequency of more extended figures. 3 3-i INTRODUCTION. words. Take the well-known passage, 11. 33-79, and see how many comparisons are suggested by single words. This " figured speech," as we may call it, in Lowell, came, or, rather, was encour- aged, by his wide reading of Shakespeare and the Old English Dramatists. Besides some little knowledge of figures, of metre, and of diction, you may gain from what has gone before one other thing, a lesson in method. The preceding sections may at first sight seem complicated and unnecessarily detailed. That is chiefly because the facts of the poetry are visually cited to exemplify the state- ments made. This is the best way of realizing one's knowledge. It is of no great value merely to know, for instance, that Tenny- son's diction in the Idylls is somewhat archaic : the thing im- portant is to know that such a statement includes such facts as are cited on p. 29. It is of little value to know that the metre of Horatius is based on the old ballad-metre : you want to know how it is like it and how unlike, as explained on p. 27. Nor should you feel that you are merely gaining information from somebody else. This is the sort of thing you can do for your- selves: there are plenty of examples besides those cited. You can search and remember and compare. Keep your eye on the texts of the poems : so will you learn to know them. And that is the first thing in studying poetry : to know. There are other things to do with poetry besides studying it ; but if you study, your object is to know. POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. GARETH AND LYNETTE. The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent, And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring Scared at the spate. 1 A slender-shafted Pine Lost footing, fell, and so was whirl'd away. 5 " How he went down," said Gareth, " as a false knight Or evil king before my lance if lance Were mine to use — senseless cataract, Bearing all down in thy precipitancy — And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows 10 And mine is living 2 blood: thou dost His will, The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know, Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall Linger with vacillating obedience, Prison 'd, and kept and coax'd and Avhistled to — 15 Since the good mother holds me still a child! Good mother is bad mother unto me! A worse were better; yet no worse would I. Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force To weary her ears with one continuous prayer, SO Until she let me fly discaged to sweep In ever-highering eagle-circles up To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop 1 Scotch for spring torrent, freshet. s and therefore should run with more life than mere water. 36 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTUKE. Down upon all things base, and dash them dead, A knight of Arthur, 1 working out his will, 25 To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain, 2 when he came With Modred hither in the summer time, Ask'd me to tilt with him, the proven knight. Modred for want of worthier was the judge. Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said, 30 'Thou hast half prevail'd against me,' said so— he — Tho' Modred biting his thin lips was mute, For he is alway sullen : what care I ? " And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair, Ask'd, " Mother, tho' ye count me still the child, 35 Sweet mother, do ye love the child ? " She laugh 'd, " Thou art but a Avild goose to question it." " Then, mother, an 3 ye love the child," he said, " Being a goose and rather tame than wild, Hear the child's story." " Yea, my well-beloved, 40 An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs." And Gareth answer'd her with kindling eyes, " Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine AVas finer gold than any goose can lay ; For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid 45 Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours. 4 And there was ever haunting round the palm A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw The splendor sparkling from aloft, and thought 50 ' An I could climb and lay my hand upon it, Then were I wealthier than a leash ' of kings.' i g ee p jo * a book with devotions for different a Gawain and Modred were brothers of times of the day. Gareth and nephews of King Arthur. The • A leash is a thong to hold dogs. Gareth first appears in the old romances as the type uses the word here to show his contempt of knightly courtesy, the other as the type for kings merely as men of wealth. True of the treacherous, villainous knight. kings who live to rule righteously he reveres »if. and admires. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 37 But ever when he reach 'd a hand to climb- One, that had loved him from his childh »1, caught And stay'd him, ' Climb not lest thou break thy neck, 55 I charge thee by my love,' and so the boy, Sweet mother, neither clomb, 1 nor brake his neck, But brake his very heart in pining for it, And past away." To whom the mother said, " True love, sweet son, had risk'd himself and climb'd, 60 And handed down the golden treasure to him." And Gareth answer'd her with kindling eyes, " Gold ? said I gold ? — ay then, why he, or she, Or whosoe'er it was, or half the world Had ventured — had the thing I spake of been €5 Mere gold — but this was all of that true steel, Whereof they forged the brand 2 Excalibur, 3 And lightnings play'd about it in the storm, And all the little fowl were flurried at it, And there were cries and clash ings in the nest, 70 That sent him from his senses: let me go." * Then Bellicent bemoan'd herself and said, " Hast thou no pity upon my loneliness? Lo, where thy father Lot beside the hearth Lies like a log, and all but smoulder'd out! 75 For ever since when traitor to the King 5 He fought against him in the Barons' war, And Arthur gave him back his territory, His age hath slowly droopt, and now lies there 1 archaic past tense of climb. 4 Notice the effect of the three simple 5 sword. words coming at the end of the impassioned 3 the famous sword of Arthur, given him exclamation. by the Lady of the Lake (Coming of 5 There had been those who did not allow Arthur, p. 45, in Enoch Arden and other Arthur's title and therefore banded together Poems, No. 6 in this series). against him. See 1. 120. 51900 g8 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. A yet-warm corpse, and yet unburiable, 80 No more; nor sees, nor hears, nor speaks, nor knows. And both thy brethren are in Arthur's hall, Albeit ' neither loved with that full love I feel for thee, nor worthy such a love : Stay therefore thou ; red berries charm the bird, 85 And thee, mine innocent, the jousts, 2 the wars, Who never knewest finger-ache, nor pang Of wrench'd or broken limb — an often chance In those brain-stunning shocks, and tourney-falls, Frights to my heart; but stay: follow the deer 90 By these tall firs and our fast-falling burns; 3 So make thy manhood mightier day by day; Sweet is the chase: and I will seek thee out Some comfortable 4 bride and fair, to grace Thy climbing life, and cherish my prone year, 95 Till fallkig into Lot's forgetfulness I know not thee, myself, nor anything. Stay, my best son! ye are yet more boy than man." Then Gareth, " An ye hold me yet for child, Hear yet once more the story of the child. 100 For, mother, there was once a King, like ours; 8 The prince his heir, when tall and marriageable. Ask'd for a bride; and thereupon the King Set two before him. One was fair, strong, arm'd — But to be won by force — and many men 105 Desired her; one, good lack, 6 no man desired. And these were the conditions of the King: That save 7 he won the first by force, he needs Must wed that other, whom no man desired, A red-faced bride who knew herself so vile, l although. 6 Gareth thinks of Arthur offering lnm « friendly tournaments. euch a choice. » Scotch for brooks. ' an old colloquial exclamation. < cheerful and agreeable. 7 except, unlesB. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 39 110 That evermore she loug'd to hide herself, Nor fronted man or woman eye to eye — Yea — some she cleaved to, but they died of her. And one — they call'd her Fame; and one, Mother, How can ye keep me tether'd to you — Shame ! 115 Man am I grown, a man's work must I do. Follow the deer? follow the Christ, the King, 1 Live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King — Else, wherefore born ? " To whom the mother said, " Sweet son, for there be many who deem him not, 120 Or will not deem him, wholly proven Kiug — Albeit in mine own heart I knew him King, 2 When I was frequent witli him in my youth, And heard him Kingly speak, and doubted him No more than he, himself; but felt him mine, 125 Of closest kin to me; yet — wilt thou leave Thine easeful bidding here, and risk thine all, Life, limbs, for one that is not proven King? Stay, till the cloud that settles round his birth Hath lifted but a little. Stay, sweet son." 130 And Gareth answer 'd quickly, " Not an hour, So 3 that ye yield me — I will walk thro' fire, Mother, to gain it — your full leave to go. Nob proven, who swept the dust of ruin'd Eome From off the threshold of the realm, and crush 'd 135 The Idolaters, and made the people free ? Who should be King save him who makes us free? " 4 J Arthur was preeminently a Christian 3 if. king. Hence his knighthood sang "The 4 Arthur had led the British against the King shall follow Christ, and we the King." Romans and against the heathen Saxons. 2 Bellicent knew him for her brother, the See Coming of Arthur, pp. 52, 53, of Enoch son of Uther, the former king. Arden and other Poems, No. 6 in this series. 40 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. So when the Queen, who long had sought in vain To break him from the intent to which he grew, Found her son's will unwaveringly one, 140 She answer'd craftily, " Will ye walk thro' fire?* Mho walks thro' fire will hardly heed the smoke. Ay, go then, an ye must : only one proof, Before thou ask the King to make thee knight, Of thine obedience and thy love to me, 145 Thy mother, — I demand." And Gareth cried, " A hard one, or a hundred, so I go. Kay — quick! the proof to prove me to the quick! " 2 But slowly spake the mother, looking at him, "Prince, 3 thou shalt go disguised to Arthur's hall, 150 And hire thyself to serve for meats and drinks Among the scullions and the kitchen-knaves, And those that hand the dish across the bar. Xor shalt thou tell thy name to any one. And thou shalt serve a twelvemonth and a day." * 155 For so the Queen believed that when her son Beheld his only way to glory lead Low down thro' villain 6 kitchen- vassalage, 4 Her own true Gareth was too princely-proud To pass thereby: so should he rest with her, 160 Closed in her castle from the sound of arms. Silent awhile was Gareth, 'then replied, " The thrall in person may be free in soul, 1 Bellicent quickly takes up his offer. 3 being grandson of old King Fther. 5 Quick originally meant living, as in the * " A twelvemonth and a day" is a fa- expression "the quick and the dead." We vorite expression in the old romances. It speak now of "the quick of the finger- comes originally frrrn the law. nails." "To the quick" means "to the 6 Villain formerly meant no more than most sensitive part." low, vulgar. • service in the kitchen. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 41 And I shall see the jousts. Thy son am I, And since thou art ray mother, must obey. 165 I therefore yield me freely to thy will; For hence will I, 1 disguised, and hire myself To serve with scullions and with kitchen-knaves; Nor tell my name to any — no, not the King. ' ' Gareth awhile linger'd. The mother's eye 170 Full of the wistful fear that he would go, And turning toward him wheresoe'er he turn'd, Perplext his outward purpose, till an hour, When waken'd by the wind which with full voice Swept bellowing thro' the darkness on to dawn, 175 He rose, and out of slumber calling two That still 2 had tended on him from his birth, Before the wakeful mother heard him, went. The three were clad like tillers of the soil. Southward they set their faces." The birds made 180 Melody on branch, and melody in mid-air. 3 The damp hill-slopes were quicken'd 4 into green, And the live green had kindled into flowers, For it was past the time of Easterday. So, when their feet were planted on the plain 185 That broaden'd toward the base of Camelot, 5 Far off they saw the silver-misty morn Rolling her smoke about the Eoyal mount, That rose between the forest and the field. At times the summit of the high city flash'd; 190 At times the spires and turrets half-way down Prick'd thro' the mist; at times the great gate shone i Hence will I go. * brought to life. See 1. 147. 2 continually. 5 Camelot was one of the chief cities of s Notice the rhythm of the line and the Arthur, and a favorite place for holding his alliteration ; it harmonizes with the subject, court. 42 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Only, that open'd on the field below: Anon, 1 the whole fair city had disappeared. Then those who went with Gareth were amazed. 195 One crying, " Let us go no farther, lord. Here is a city of Enchanters, built By fairy Kings." The second echo'd him, " Lord, we have heard from our wise men at home To Northward, that this King is not the King, 200 But only changeling 3 out of Fairyland, "Who drave the heathen hence by sorcery And Merlin's glamour." 3 Then the first again, " Lord, there is no such city anywhere. But all a vision." Gareth answer'd them 205 With laughter, swearing he had glamour enow ' In his own blood, his princedom, youth and hopes. To plunge old Merlin in the Arabian sea; So push'd them all unwilling towards the gate, And there was no gate like it under heaven; 210 For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave, The Lady of the Lake 6 stood: all her dress "Wept from her sides as water flowing away; But like the cross her great and goodly arms 215 Stretch'd under all the cornice and upheld: And drops of water fell from cither hand; And down from one a sword was hung, from one 1 soon, in a little while. Lake stands for the Christian Church : her 2 The old superstition was that the fairies dress, like water, is the sacrament of bap- sometimes stole away children, leaving in tism ; the sword and the censer typify the their place "changelings, 1 ' as they were militant and reverent characteristics: the called, beings of a strange, unearthly nature, fish was a sacred emblem among the 3 the old word for magic. early Christians, for the word for fith in * enough. Greek ismadeup of theinitialsof the Greek 6 The sculpture on the gate is symbolic, as words for "Jesus Christ, Son of God, the is much else in the Idylls. The Lady of the Saviour. 11 GARETH AND LYNETTE. 43 A censer, either worn with wind and storm; And o'er her breast floated the sacred fish ; 220 And in the space to left of her, and right, Were Arthur's wars in weird devices done, Xew things and old co-twisted,' as if Time Were nothing, so in Vetera tely, 2 that men Were giddy gazing there; and over all 225 High on the top were those three Queens, 3 the friends Of Arthur, who should help him at his need. Then those with Gareth for so long a space Stared at the figures, that at last it seem'd The dragon-boughts 4 and elvish emblemings 230 Began to move, seethe, twine and curl: they 6 call'd To Gareth, " Lord, the gateway is alive." And Gareth likewise on them fixt his eyes So long, that ev'n to him they seem'd to move. Out of the city a blast of music peal'd. 235 Back from the gate started the three, to whom From out thereunder came an ancient man, Long-bearded, saying, " Who be ye, my sons? " Then Gareth, " We be 6 tillers of the soil, Who leaving share ' in furrow come to see 240 The glories of our King: but these, my men (Your city moved so weirdly in the mist), Doubt if the King be King at all, or come From Fairyland; and whether this be built By magic, and by fairy Kings and Queens; 245 Or whether there be any city at all, 1 twisted together. 4 the folds (boughts) of the dragon's 2 inextricably. tall. 3 often mentioned in the Idylls of the * his two companions. King, especially in the Coming and the * See p. 29. Passing of Arthur. 7 ploughshare. 44 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTUKE. Or all a vision; and this mnsic now Hath scared them both, but tell thou these the truth." Then that old Seer made answer playing on him ' And saying, " Son, I have seen the good ship cail 250 Keel upward and mast downward in the heavens, And solid turrets topsy-turvy in air; And here is truth; but an it please thee not, Take thou the truth as 2 thou hast told it me. For truly, as thou sayest, a Fairy King 255 And Fairy Queens have built the city, son; They came from out a sacred mountain-cleft Toward the sunrise, each with harp in hand, And built it to the music of their harps.* And as thou sayest, it is enchanted, son, 260 For there is nothing in it as it seems Saving the King; 4 tho' some there be that hold The King a shadow, and the city real : 6 Yet take thou heed of him, for, so 6 thou pass Beneath this archway, then wilt thou become 265 A thrall to his enchantments, for the King Will bind thee by such vows, as is a shame A man should not be bound by, yet the which No man can keep; 7 but, so thou dread to swear, Pass not beneath this gateway, but abide 270 Without, among the cattle of the field. For, an ye heard a music, like enow They are building still, seeing the city is built i trying him, and making game of him. 6 Some thought the king's ways wr-rr- » in the fame manner ; that is, untruly, foolishness and the way of the world about So in 1. 283 Merlin mocks Gareth as Gareth him the true way. had mocked him. * if ; as in 1. 131 and elsewhere. > In Greek legend the walls of Thebes 7 He means that the ideals of the king are arose to the music of Amphion. so noble that nobody could refuse them, yel * The king alone was what he appeared so hard to attain them that everybody must to be. The others all concealed, under their make some failure. Yet Gareth, like all noble exterior, some touch of evil, though finer souls (not " cattle of the field," 1. 270), never so slight makes the attempt. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 45 To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever." ' Gareth spake "2T5 Anger'd, " Old Master, reverence thine own beard That looks as white as utter 2 truth, and seems Well nigh as long as thou art statured tall ! Why mockest thou the stranger that hath been To thee fair-spoken ? " But the Seer replied, 280 " Know ye not then the Kiddling of the Bards?" ' Confusion, and illusion, and relation, Elusion, and occasion, and evasion ? ' I mock thee not but as thou mockest me, 4 And all that see thee, for thou art not who 285 Thou seemest, but I know thee who thou art. 5 And now thou goest up to mock the King, Who cannot brook the shadow of any lie." Unmockingly the mocker ending here Turn'd to the right, and past along the plain; 290 Whom Gareth looking after, said, " My men, Our one white lie 6 sits like a little ghost Here on the threshold of our enterprise. Let love be blamed for it, not she, nor I: Well, we will make amends." With all good cheer 295 He spake and laugh'd, then enteral with his twain Camelot, a city of shadowy palaces, And stately, rich in emblem and the work 1 Because Arthur's rule is founded upon * the ancient Welsh poets : a part of noble ideals it is not easy to think of it as their poetry consisted of riddles in verse, having been made, and yet for this same * See 1. 253. 6 See Luke iv. 34. reason it cannot pass away. « The " one white lie " was pretending to 2 absolute. be what he was not. 46 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Of ancient Kings who did their days in stone; ' Which Merlin's hand, the Mage at Arthur's court, 300 Knowing all the arts, had touch'd and everywhere At Arthur's ordinance, tipt with lessening peak And pinnacle, and had made it spire to heaven. And ever and anon a knight would pass Outward, or inward to the hall : his arms 305 Clash'd; and the sound was good to Gareth's ear. And out of bower and casement shyly glanced Eyes of pure women, wholesome stars of love; And all about a healthful people stept As in the presence of a gracious king.* 310 Then into hall Gareth ascending heard A voice, the voice of Arthur, and beheld Far over heads in that long-vaulted hall The splendor of the presence of the King Throned, and delivering doom 3 — and look'd no more — 315 But felt his young heart hammering in his ears. And thought, " For this half -shadow of a lie The truthful King will doom me when I speak." Yet pressing on, tho' all in fear to find Sir Gawain or Sir Modred, 4 saw nor one 320 Nor other, but in all the listening eyes Of those tall knights, that ranged about the throne, Clear honor shining like the dewy star Of dawn, and faith in their great King, with pure Affection, and the light of victory, 325 And glory gain'd, and evermore to gain. Then came a widow crying to the King, " A boon, 6 Sir King! Thy father, TJther, reft i who had the deeds of their time carved 3 judgment. ^ 8 tone. * llis brothers. See note on 11. 25, 26, and 2 The place was in keeping with Gareth's also 11. 408, 409. enthusiastic ideals. s favor. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 47 From my dead lord a field with violence : For howsoe'er at first he proffer 'd gold, 330 Yet, for the field was pleasant in our eyes, We yielded not; and then he reft us of it Perforce, and left us neither gold nor field." Said Arthur, " Whether ' would ye ? gold or field ? " To whom the woman weeping, " Nay, my lord, 335 The field was pleasant in my husband's eye." And Arthur, " Have thy pleasant field again, And thrice the gold for Uther's use thereof, According to the years. No boon is here, But justice, so thy say be proven true. 340 Accursed, who from wrongs his. father did Would shape himself a right! " And while she past, Came yet another widow crying to him, " A boon, Sir King! Thine enemy, King, am I. With thine own hand thou slewest my dear lord, 345 A knight of Uther in the Barons' war, 2 When Lot and many another rose and fought Against thee, saying thou wert basely born. I held with these, and loathe to ask thee aught. Yet lo! my husband's brother had my son 350 Thrall' d in his castle, and hath starved him dead; And standeth seized 3 of that inheritance Which thou that slewest the sire hast left the son. So tho' I scarce can ask it thee for hate, Grant me some knight to do the battle for me, 355 Kill the foul thief, and wreak 4 me for my son." 1 which of the two. were acknowledged. See lines 75, 76. 2 the Barons 1 war against Arthur be- 3 a legal term for possessed of. fore his supremacy and title to the throne 4 revenge. 48 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Then strode a good knight forward, crying to him, "A boon, Sir King! I am her kinsman, I. Give me to right her wrong, and slay the man." Then came Sir Kay, the seneschal, 1 and cried, 360 " A boon, Sir King! ev'n that thou grant her none, This railer, that hath mock'd thee in full hall — None; or the wholesome boon of gyve and gag." But Arthur, " We sit King, to help the wrong'd Thro' all our realm. The woman loves her lord. 3G5 Peace to thee, woman, with thy loves and hates! The kings of old had doom'd thee to the flames, Aurelius Emrys 2 would have scourged thee dead, And Uther slit thy tongue; but get thee hence — Lest that rough humor of the kings of old 370 Return upon me! Thou that art her kin, Go likewise; lay him low and slay him not, k But bring him here, that I may judge the right, According to the justice of the King: Then, be he guilty, by that deathless King 375 Who lived and died for men, the man shall die.' Then came in hall the messenger of Mark,' A name of evil savor in the land, The Cornish king. In either hand he bore What dazzled all, and shone far-off as shines 380 A field of charlock* in the sudden sun Between two showers, a cloth of palest gold, Which down he laid before the throne, and knelt. Delivering, 6 that his Lord, the vassal king, 1 Sir Kay is one of the familiar figures 3 Mark, king of Cornwall, a" vassal king" among Arthur's knights in the old ro- or dependent lord of Arthur, is the type of mances. He was the seneschal or steward, cowardly meanness elsewhere in the poems the keeper of the king's castle. of the Idylls of the King, as Modred is the 3 Aurelius Emrys and Uther were broth- type of envious cunning, ere. The latter was king before Arthur, the 4 the yellow wild mustard plant. former before Uther. t giving the message. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 49 Was ev'n upon his way to Camelot; 385 For having heard that Arthur of his grace Had made his goodly cousin, Tristram, knight,' And, for himself was of the greater state, Being a king, he trusted his liege-lord "Would yield him this large honor all the more; 390 So pray'd him well to accept this cloth of gold, In token of true heart and fealty. 2 Then Arthur cried to rend the cloth, to rend In pieces and so cast it on the hearth. An oak-tree 3 smouldered there. " The goodly knight! * 395 What ! shall the shield of Mark stand among these '? ' ' For midway down the side of that long hall A stately pile, — whereof along the front Some blazon'd, 5 some but carven, and some blank, There ran a treble range of stony shields, — 400 Eose and high-arching overbrow'd the hearth. And under every shield a knight was named; For this was Arthur's custom in his hall; When some good knight had done one noble deed, His arms were carven only; but if twain 405 His arms were blazon'd also; but if none The shield was blank and bare without a sign Saving the name beneath ; and Gareth saw The shield of Gawain blazon'd rich and bright, And Modred's blank as death; and Arthur cried 410 To rend the cloth and cast it on the hearth. 6 " More like are we to reave 7 him of his crown Than make him knight because men call him king. 1 The king had power to raise whom he 6 This is the word in the science of her- would to the order of knighthood. aldry for portraying in the right colors. s faithful service. * These words take up the story after the 3 The hearth was so large that the trunk description. of a great tree could be put in it. 7 To reave is to take away. The con- * Arthur speaks in scorn, as though he had struction is the same as after " deprive." said, '' A fine knight he would be." 4 50 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. The kings we found, ye know we stay'd their hands From war among themselves, but left them kings; 415 Of whom were any bounteous, merciful. Truth-speaking, brave, good livers, them we enroll'd Among us, and they sifc within our hall. But Mark hath tarnish'd the great name of king, As Mark would sully the low state of churl : 420 And seeing he hath sent us cloth of gold, Return, and meet, and hold him from our eyes, Lest we should lap him up in cloth of lead, 1 Silenced forever — craven — a man of plots, Craft, poisonous counsels, wayside ambush ings — 425 No fault of thine: let Kay, the seneschal, Look to thy wants, and send thee satisfied — Accursed, who strikes nor lets the hand be seen! " And many another suppliant crying came With noise of ravage wrought by beast and man, 430 And evermore a knight would ride away. Last Gareth leaning both hands heavily Down on'the shoulders of the twain, his men, Approach'd between them toward the King, and ask'd, " A boon, Sir King (his voice was all ashamed), 435 For see ye not how weak and hunger-worn I seem — leaning on these? grant me to serve For meat and drink among the kitchen-knaves A twelvemonth and a day, nor seek my name. Hereafter I will fi^ht.'" 'to* To him the King, 440 "A goodly youth and worth a goodlier boon! But an thou wilt no goodlier, then must Kay, The master of the meats and drinks be thine." ' 1 Lead was used for coffins ; lap is the 3 rather a condensed construction. Kay game word as wrap. is to be master of Gareth as well as of the 1 He cannot help expressing his real hopes, meats and drinks. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 51 He rose and past; then Kay, a man of mien Wan-sallow as the plant that feels itself 445 Root-bitten by white lichen, " Lo ye now! This fellow hath broken from some Abbey, where, God wot, he had not beef and brewis enow, However that might chance ! but an he work, Like any pigeon will I cram his crop, 450 And sleeker shall he shine than any hog." Then Lancelot 1 standing near, " Sir Seneschal, Sleuth-hound thou knowest, and gray, and all the hounds; A horse thou knowest, a man thou dost not know: Broad brows and fair, a fluent 2 hair and fine, 455 High nose, a nostril large and fine, and hands Large, fair and fine ! — Some young lad's mystery — But, or from sheepcot or king's hall, the boy Is noble-natured. Treat him with all grace, Lest he should come to shame thy judging of him." 460 Then Kay, "What murmurest thou of mystery? Think ye this fellow will poison the King's dish ? Nay, for he spake too fool-like: mystery! Tut, an the lad were noble, he had ask'd For horse and armor : fair and fine, forsooth ! 465 Sir Fine-face, Sir Fair-hands ? but see thou to it That thine own fineness, Lancelot, some fine day Undo thee not — and leave my man to me." So Gareth all for glory underwent The sooty yoke of kitchen- vassalage; "Lancelot is the chief of Arthur's "flowing. We say" a fluent speech," but knights, the most courteous, the bravest, do not often use the word for material and the greatest in everything that be- things, longed to knighthood. 3 See 1. 157. 52 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 470 Ate with young lads his portion by the door, And couch'd at night with grimy kitchen-knaves. And Lancelot ever spake him pleasantly, But Kay the seneschal who loved him not Would hustle and harry him, and labor him 475 Beyond his comrade of the hearth, and set To turn the broach, 1 draw water, or hew wood, Or grosser tasks; and Gareth bow'd himself With all obedience to the King, and wrought All kind of service with a noble ease 480 That graced the lowliest act in doing it. And when the thralls had talk among themselves And one Avould praise the love that linkt the King And Lancelot — how the King had saved his life In battle twice, and Lancelot once the King's — 485 For Lancelot was the first in Tournament, But Arthur mightiest on the battlefield — Gareth was glad. Or if some other told, How once the wandering forester at dawn, Far over the blue tarns and hazy seas, 490 On Caer-EryriV highest found the King A naked babe, of whom the Prophet spake, " He passes to the Isle Avilion, 3 He passes and is heal'd and cannot die " — Gareth was glad. But if their talk were foul, 495 Then would he whistle rapid as any lark, Or carol some old roundelay, and so loud That first they mock'd, but, after, reverenced him. Or Gareth telling 6ome prodigious tale Of knights, who sliced a red life-bubbling 4 way 500 Thro' twenty folds of twisted dragon, held All in a gap-mouth'd circle his good mates Lying or sitting round him, idle hands, 1 the great Bpit. ' a mythical island, a sort of paradise on » apparenUy Mt. Suowdon. earth. * because the life-blood gushed out GARETH AND LYNETTE. 53 Cliarm'd; till Sir Kay, the seneschal, would come Blustering upon them, like a sudden wind 505 Among dead leaves, and drive them all apart. Or when the thralls had sport among themselves, So there were any trial of mastery, He, by two yards in casting bar or stone "Was counted best; and if there chanced a joust, 510 So that Sir Kay nodded him leave to go, Would hurry thither, and when he saw the knights Clash like the coming and retiring wave, And the spear spring, and good horse reel, the boy Was half beyond himself for ecstasy. 515 So for a month he wrought among the thralls; But in the weeks that follow'd, the good Queen, Bepentant of the word she made him swear, And saddening in her childless castle, sent, Between the increscent and decrescent moon,* 520 Arms for her son, and loosed him from his vow. This, Gareth hearing from a squire of Lot With whom he used to play at tourney once, When both were children, and in lonely haunts Would scratch a ragged oval on the sand, 2 525 And each at either dash from either end — Shame never made girl redder than Gareth joy. He laugh'd; he sprang. " Out of the smoke, at once I leap from Satan's foot to Peter's knee 3 — These news be mine, none other's — nay, the King's — 530 Descend into the city: " whereon he sought The Kiug alone, and found, and told him all. " I have stagger' d thy strong Gawain in a tilt For pastime; yea he said it: joust can I. 1 increasing and decreasing. Increscent, closures in which the tournaments were like fluent, is nearer the Latin form. held. 3 From Hell to Heaven, of which * in imitation of the oval lists or en- Peter holds the keys. 5-1 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Make me thy knight — in secret! let my name 535 Be hidd'n, and give me the first quest, I spring Like flame from ashes." Here the King's calm eye Fell on, and check'd, and made him flush, and bow Lowly, to kiss his hand, who answer'd him, " Son, the good mother let me know thee here, 540 And sent her wish that I would yield thee thine. : Make thee my knight ? my knights are sworn to vows Of utter hardihood, utter gentleness, And, loving, utter faithfulness in love, And uttermost obedience to the King." 545 Then Gareth, lightly springing from his knees, " My King, for hardihood I can promise thee. For uttermost obedience make demand Of whom ye gave me to, the Seneschal, No mellow master of the meats and drinks! 550 And as for love, God wot, I love not yet, But love I shall, God willing." And the King — " Make thee my knight in secret? yea, but he, Our noblest brother, and our truest man, And one with me in all, he needs must know." 555 " Let Lancelot know, my King, let Lancelot know, Thy noblest and thy truest! " And the King — " But wherefore would ye men should wonder at you ? Nay, rather for the sake of me, their King, And the deed's sake my knighthood do the deed, 560 Than to be noised of." 1 give you the honor which is rightly yours. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 55 Merrily Gareth ask'd, * ( Have I not earned my cake in baking of it ? Let be my name until I make my name! ' My deeds will speak: it is but for a day." So with a kindly hand on Gareth's arm 565 Smiled the great King, and half unwillingly Loving his lusty youthhood yielded to him. Then, after summoning Lancelot privily, " I have given him the first quest: he is not proven. Look therefore when he calls for this in hall, 570 Thou get to horse and follow him far away. Cover the lions on thy shield, 2 and see Far as thou mayest, he be nor ta'en nor slain. " / Then that same day there past into the' hall A damsel of high lineage, and a brow 575 May-blossom, and a cheek of apple-blossom, Hawk-eyes; and lightly was her slender nose Tip-tilted like the petal of a flower; She into hall past with her page and cried, " King, for thou hast driven the foe without, 580 See to the foe within ! bridge, ford, beset By bandits, every one that owns a tower The Lord for half a league. 3 Why sit ye there? Eest would I not, Sir King, an I were king, Till ev'n the lonest hold 4 were all as free 585 From cursed bloodshed, as thine altar-cloth From that blest blood it is a sin to spill. " " Comfort thyself," said Arthur, " I nor mine Rest: so my knighthood keep the vows they swore, The wastest moorland of our realm shall be * Never mind my name till I can make one. 3 That is, master of the territory just 8 Lancelot even in his armor was known around about his castle, by the device on his shield. See 1. 1273. * castle. 56 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 590 Safe, damsel, as the centre of this hall. What is thy name ? thy need ? " " My name ? " she said — " Lynette my name; noble; my need, a knight To combat for my sister, Lyonors, A lady of high lineage, of great lands, 595 And comely, yea, and comelier than myself. She lives in Castle Perilous: a river Buns in three loops about her living-place; And o'er it are three passings, and three knights Defend the passings, brethren, and a fourth, 600 And of that four the mightiest, holds her stay'd In her own castle and so besieges her To break her will, and make her wed with him: And but ' delays his purport till thou send To do the battle with him, thy chief man 605 Sir Lancelot whom he trusts to overthrow, Then wed, with glory; but she will not wed Save whom she loveth, or a holy life. 2 Xow therefore have I come for Lancelot." Then Arthur mindful of Sir Gareth ask'd, 610 " Damsel, ye know this Order 3 lives to crush All wrongers of the Realm. But say, these four, Who be they ? What the fashion of the men ? " " They be of foolish fashion, O Sir King, The fashion of that old 4 knight-errantry 615 Who ride abroad and do but what they will; Courteous or bestial from the moment, Such as have nor law nor king: and three of these Proud in their fantasy call themselves, the Day, i only. s (lie order of Arthur's knights. » To " wed a holy life " was to become a « heforr the time of Arthur, whose nun. knights had higher aims. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 57 Morning-Star, and Noon-Sun, and Evening-Star, 620 Being strong fools; and never a whit more wise The fourth who always rideth arm'd in black, A huge man-beast of boundless savagery. He names himself the Night and oftener Death, And wears a helmet mounted with a skull 625 And bears a skeleton figured on his arms, To show that who may slay or scape the three Slain by himself shall enter endless night. And all these four be fools, but mighty men, And therefore am I come for Lancelot." l 630 Hereat Sir Gareth call'd from where he rose, A head with kindling eyes above the throng, " A boon, Sir King — this quest! " then — for he mark'd Kay near him groaning like a wounded bull — '"Yea, King, thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am I," 635 And mighty thro' thy meats and drinks am I, And I can topple over a hundred such. Thy promise, King," and Arthur glancing at him, Brought down a momentary brow. " Eough, sudden, And pardonable, worthy to be knight — 640 Go therefore," and all hearers Ave re amazed. But on the damsel's forehead shame, pride, wrath, Slew the May- white; she lifted either arm, " Fie on thee, King! I ask'd for thy chief knight, And thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave." 645 Then ere a man in hall could stay her, turn'd, Fled doAvn the lane of access to the King, Took horse, descended the slope street, 3 and past The Aveird Avhite gate, and paused without, beside The field of tourney, murmuring "kitchen-knave." > Lynette is impetuous (11. 579-582) and size that which he knows will disgust him persistent. most. 3 Camelot was a " high city," 8 The sight of Kay makes Gareth erupha- and the palace was on the summit. 58 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 650 Now two great entries open'd from the hall, At one end one, that gave upon a range Of level pavement where the King could pace At sunrise, gazing over plain and wood ; And down from this a lordly stairway sloped 655 Till lost in blowing trees and tops of towers. 1 And out by this main doorway past the King. But one was counter to 2 the hearth, and rose High that the highest-crested helm could ride Therethro' nor graze : and by this entry fled 660 The damsel in her wrath, and on to this Sir Gareth strode, and saw without the door King Arthur's gift, the worth of half a town, A war-horse of the best, and near it stood The two that out of north had follow'd him. 665 This 3 bare a maiden shield, a casque; * that held The horse, the spear; whereat Sir Gareth loosed A cloak that dropped from collar-bone to heel, A cloth of roughest web, and cast it down, And from it like a f uel-smother'd fire, 670 That lookt half-dead, brake bright, and flash'd as those Dull-coated things, that making slide apart Their dusk wing-cases, all beneath there burns A jewel'd harness, ere they pass and fly. So Gareth ere he parted flash'd in arms. 675 Then while he donn'd b the helm, and took the shield And mounted horse and graspt a spear, of grain Storm-strengthened on a windy site, and tipt With trenchant 8 steel, around him slowly prest The people, and from out of kitchen came 680 The thralls in throng, and seeing who had work'd Lustier than any, and whom they could but love, > The hill was bo steep that from above, 3 tliix, one of the two ; that, the other, the road seemed to ruu among tue to P 8 of * helmet houses. 6 Pol "ii. 4 opposite. * good for cutting. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 59 Mounted in arms, threw up their caps and cried, i( God bless the King, and all his fellowship! " And on thro' lanes of shouting Gareth rode 685 Down the slope street, and past without the gate. So Gareth past with joy; but as the cur Pluckt from the cur he fights with, ere his cause Be cool'd by fighting, follows, being named, His owner, but remembers all, and growls 690 Remembering, so Sir Kay beside the door Mutter'd in scorn of Gareth whom he used To harry and hustle. " Bound upon a quest "With horse and arms — the King hath past his time '— My scullion knave! Thralls to your work again. 695 For an your fire be low ye kindle mine! 2 Will there be dawn in West and eve in East ? ' Begone! — my knave! — belike and like enow Some old head-blow 4 not heeded in his youth So shook his wits they wander in his prime — 700 Crazed ! How the villain lifted up his voice. Nor shamed to bawl himself a kitchen-knave. Tut: he was tame and meek enow with me, Till peacock'd up with Lancelot's noticing. Well — I will after my loud knave, and learn T05 Whether he know me for his master yet. Out of the smoke he came, and so my lance Hold, by God's grace, he shall into the mire — Thence, if the King awaken from his craze, Into the smoke again." But Lancelot said, 710 " Kay, wherefore will ye go against the King, 1 He ie in his dotage. 4 If not in his dotage, something is wrong 2 My fire is metaphorical. with his mind : it may be that some old 3 Is the order of everything to be reversed? wound has unsettled him. 60 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. For that did never he ' whereon ye rail, But ever meekly served the King in thee? Abide : take counsel ; for this lad is great And lusty, and knowing both of lance and sword." 715 " Tut, tell not me," said Kay, "ye are over-fine To mar stout knaves with foolish courtesies." Then mounted, on thro' silent faces 2 rode Down the slope city, and out beyond the gate. But by the field of tourney lingering yet 720 Muttered the damsel, " Wherefore did the King Scorn me ? for, were Sir Lancelot lackt, at least He might have yielded to me one of those "Who tilt for lady's love and glory here, Rather than— sweet heaven! fie upon him — 725 His kitchen-knave." To whom Sir Gareth drew (And there were none but few goodlier than he) Shining in arms, " Damsel, the quest is mine. Lead, and I follow." She thereat, as one That smells a foul-flesh'd agaric 3 in the holt/ 730 And deems it carrion of some woodland thing, Or shrew, or weasel, nipt her slender nose With petulant thumb and finger, shrilling, 6 "Hence! Avoid, thou smellest all of kitchen-grease. And look who comes behind," for there was Kay. 735 " Knowest thou not me ? thy master ? I am Kay. "We lack thee by the hearth." And Gareth to him, ' • Master no more ! too well I know thee, ay — The most ungentle knight in Arthur's hall." » Gareth. s a mushroom. * The people had no love for him aa they 4 the wood, bad for Gareth (1. 684). 6 crying in a shrill voice. GARETH JlND LYNETTE. 61 "Have at thee then," said Kay; they shock'd, and Kay 740 Fell shoulder-slipt, 1 and Gareth cried again, " Lead, and I follow," and fast away she fled. \ But after sod and shingle 2 ceased to fly Behind her, and the heart of her good horse Was nigh to burst with violence of the beat, 745 Perforce she stay'd, and overtaken spoke. " What doest thou, scullion, in my fellowship? Deem'st thou that I accept thee aught the more, Or love thee better, that by some device Full cowardly, or by mere unhappiness, 750 Thou hast overthrown and slain thy master — thou! — Dish-washer and broach -turner, loon! — to me Thou smellest all of kitchen as before." " Damsel," Sir Gareth answer'd gently, " say Whate'er ye will, but whatsoe'er ye say, 755 I leave not till I finish this fair quest, Or die therefor." " Ay, wilt thou finish it ? Sweet lord, how like a noble knight he talks! The listening rogue hath caught the manner of it. But, knave, anon thou shaltbe met with, 3 knave, 760 And then by such a one that thou for all The kitchen brewis 4 that was ever supt , Shalt not once dare to look him in the face." " I shall assay," 5 said Gareth with a smile That madden'd her, and away she flash'd again 765 Down the long avenues of boundless wood, And Gareth following was again beknaved. 6 1 His shoulder dislocated. * Thickened soup or broth. 3 coarse gravel. 6 attempt. 8 As we say " come up with." 8 called a knave. 62 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. " Sir Kitchen-knave, I have miss'd the only way Where Arthur's men are set along the wood ; The wood is nigh as full of thieves as leaves: 770 If both be slain, I am rid of thee; but yet, Sir Scullion, canst thou use that spit 1 of thine? Fight, an thou canst: I have miss'd the only May." So till the dusk that followed even-song Rode on the two, reviler and reviled : 775 Then after one loug slope was mounted, saw, Bowl-shaped, thro' tops of many thousand pines, A gloomy-gladecl hollow slowly sink To westward — in the deeps whereof a mere,* Round as the red eye of an Eagle-owl, 780 Under the half -dead sunset glared ; and cries Ascended, and there brake a serving-man Flying from out of the black wood, and crying, " They have bound my lord to cast him in the mere.'* Then Gareth, " Bound am I to right the wrong'd, 785 But straitlier bound am I to bide with thee." And when the damsel spake contemptuously, " Lead and I follow," Gareth cried again, " Follow, I lead! " so down among the pines He plunged, and there, black-shadow'd nigh the mere, 7i>0 And mid-thigh-deep, in bulrushes and reed, Saw six tall men haling 3 a seventh along, A stone about his neck, to drown him in it. Three with good blows he quieted, but three Fled thro' the pines; and Gareth loosed the stone 795 From off his neck, then in the mere beside Tumbled it; oilily bubbled up the mere. Last, Gareth loosed his bonds and on free feet Set him a stalwart Baron, Arthur's friend. 1 She calls his lance a spit because he had a little pond, been in the kitchen. ' an older form of hauling. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 63 " Well that ye came, or else these caitiff ' rogues 800 Had wreak'd themselves on me; good cause is theirs To hate me, for my wont hath ever been To catch my thief, and then like vermin here Drown him, and with a stone about his neck; And under this wan water many of them 805 Lie rotting, but at night let go the stone, And rise, and flickering in a grimly light Dance on the mere. Good now, ye have saved a life Worth somewhat as the cleanser of this wood. And fain would I reward thee worshipfully. 810 What guerdon will ye ? " Gareth sharply spake, " None! for the deed's sake have I done the deed, In uttermost obedience to the King. But will ye yield this damsel harborage ? " Whereat the Baron saying, " I well believe 815 Ye be of Arthur's Table," a light laugh Broke from Lynette, " Ay, truly of a truth, And in a sort, being Arthur's kitchen-knave! — But deem not I accept thee aught the more, Scullion, for running sharply with thy spit 820 Down on a rout 2 of craven foresters. A thresher with his flail had scatter'd them. Nay— for thou smellest of the kitchen still. But an this lord will yield us harborage, WelL" So she spake. A league beyond the wood, 825 All in a full-fair manor and a rich, His towers where that day a feast had been Held in high hall, and many a viand left, 1 villainous. 2 used contemptuously, as we might say a mob. 5 9 64 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. And many a costly cate, 1 received the three. And there they placed a peacock in his pride * 830 Before the damsel, and the Baron set ,/^Gareth beside her, but at once she rose. " Meseems 3 that here is much discourtesy, Setting this knave, Lord Baron, at my side. Hear me — this morn I stood in Arthur's hall, 835 And pray'd the King would grant me Lancelot To fight the brotherhood of Day and Night— The last a monster unsubduable Of any save of him for whom I call'd — Suddenly bawls this f rontless * kitchen-knave, 840 ' The quest is mine; thy kitchen-knave am I And mighty thro' thy meats and drinks am I. Then Arthur all at once gone mad replies, ' Go therefore,' and so gives the quest to him— Him — here — a villain 6 fitter to stick swine 845 Than ride abroad redressing women's wrong, Or sit beside a noble gentlewoman." Then half-ashamed and part amazed, the lord Now look'd at one and now at other, left The damsel by the peacock in his pride, 850 And, seating Gareth at another board, 8 Sat down beside him, ate and then began. " Friend, whether ye be kitchen-knave, or not, Or whether it be the maiden's fantasy, And whether she be mad, or else the King, 855 Or both or neither, or thyself be mad, I ask not; but thou strikest a strong stroke, i an article of food. 3 It seems to me. » A peacock with his tail spread was * shameless, called in the books of heraldry " a peacock » See note on 1. 157, where the word is> in his pride" used as an adjective. 'aside-table. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 65 For strong thou art and goodly therewithal, And saver of my life ; and therefore now, For here be mighty men to joust with, weigh 860 Whether thou wilt not with thy damsel back To crave again Sir Lancelot of the King. 1 Thy pardon ; I but speak for thine avail, The saver of my life." And Gareth said, " Full pardon, but I follow up the quest, 865 Despite of Day and Night and Death and Hell." l So when, next morn, the lord whose life he saved Had, some brief space, convey'd them on their way And left them with God-speed, Sir Gareth spake, " Lead, and I follow." Haughtily she replied, 870 " I fly no more: I allow thee for an hour. Lion and stoat have isled 3 together, knave, In time of flood. Nay, furthermore, methinks Some ruth 4 is mine for thee. Back wilt thou, fool ? For hard by here is one who will overthrow 875 And slay thee: then will I to court again, And shame the King for only yielding me My champion from the ashes of his hearth." To whom Sir Gareth answer'd courteously, " Say thou thy say, and I will do my deed. 880 Allow me for mine hour, and thou wilt find My fortunes all as fair as hers, who lay Among the ashes and wedded the King's son." 5 Then to the shore of one of those long loops Wherethro' the serpent river coil'd, they came. ** To ask the king to send Lancelot. 3 have climbed for safety on an islet. a Gareth goes a step farther than the alle- 4 pity, gory, meaning that nothing shall daunt him. 6 Cinderella. 5 66 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 885 Rough thicketed were the hanks and steep; the stream Full, narrow; this a bridge of single arc Took at a leap; and on the further side Arose a silk pavilion, gay with gold In streaks and rays, and all Lent-lily ' in hue 890 Save that the dome was purple, and above, Crimson, a slender banneret fluttering. And therebefore the lawless warrior paced TJnarm'd, and calling, " Damsel, is this he, The champion ye have brought from Arthur's hall ? 895 For whom we let thee pass." " Nay, nay," she said, " Sir Morning-Star. The King in utter scorn Of thee and thy much folly hath sent thee here His kitchen-knave: and look thou to thyself: See that he fall not on thee suddenly, 900 And slay thee unarm'd: he is not knight but knave." Then at his call, " daughters of the Dawn, And servants of the Morning-Star, approach, Arm me," from out the silken curtain-folds Barefooted and bareheaded three fair girls 905 In gilt and rosy raiment came: their feet In dewy grasses glisten'd; and the hair All over glanced with dewdrop or with gem Like sparkles in the stone Avanturine. 3 These arm'd him in blue arms, and gave a shield 910 Blue also, and thereon the morning star. And Gareth silent gazed upon the knight, Who stood a moment, ere his horse was brought, Glorying; and in the stream beneath him, shone, Immingled with Heaven's azure waveringly, 915 The gay pavilion and the naked feet, I lis arms, the rosy raiment, and the star. 1 The " Lcnt-lily " is the yellow daffodil. 2 a kind of quartz, containing mica GARETH AND LYNETTE. 67 Then she that watch 'd him, 1 " "Wherefore stare ye so ? Thou shakest in thy fear: there yet is time: Flee down the valley before he get to horse. 920 AVho will cry shame ? Thou art not knight but knave. " Said Gareth, " Damsel, whether knave or knight, Far liefer had I fight a score of times Than hear thee so missay 2 me and revile. Fair words were best for him who fights for thee; 925 But truly foul are better, for they send That strength of anger thro' mine arms, I know That I shall overthrow him." And he that bore The star, being mounted, cried from o'er the bridge, "A kitchen-knave, and sent in scorn of me! 930 Such fight not I, but answer scorn with scorn. For this were shame to do him further wrong Than set him on his feet, and take his horse And arms, and so return him to the King. Come, therefore, leave thy lady lightly, knave. 935 Avoid : for it beseemeth not a knave To ride with such a lady." " Dog, thou liest. I spring froin loftier lineage than thine own." He spake; and all at fiery speed the two Shock 'd on the central bridge, and either spear 940 Bent but not brake, and either knight at once, Hurl'd as a stone from out of a catapult Beyond his horse's crupper and the bridge. Fell, as if dead; but quickly rose and drew, And Gareth lash'd so fiercely with his brand 945 He drave his enemy backward down the bridge, 1 Lynette. 2 speak wrongly of me. 68 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. The damsel crying, " Well-stricken, kitchen-knave! " Till Gareth's shield was cloven; but one stroke Laid him that clove it grovelling on the ground. 1 &£ Then cried the fall'n, " Take not my life: I yield." 950 And Gareth, " So this damsel ask it of me Good — I accord it easily as a grace." She reddening, " Insolent scullion: I of thee? I bound to thee for any favor ask'd! " " Then shall he die." 2 And Gareth there unlaced 955 His helmet as 3 to slay him, but she shriek'd, " Be not so hardy, scullion, as to slay One nobler than thyself." " Damsel, thy charge Is an abounding pleasure to me. Knight, Thy life is thine at her command. Arise 960 And quickly pass to Arthur's hall, and say His kitchen-knave hath sent thee. See thou crave His pardon for thy breaking of his laws. Myself, when I return, will plead for thee. Thy shield is mine 4 — farewell; and, damsel, thou 965 Lead, and I follow." And fast away she fled. Then when he came upon her, spake, " Methought,* Knave, when I watch 'd thee striking on the bridge The savor of. thy kitchen came upon me A little faintlier: but the wind hath changed: 970 I scent it twentyfold." And then she sang, " ' morning star ' (not that tall felon there Whom thou by sorcery or unhappine68 8 'The combats between Gareth and the < He takes the shield of the Morning-Star, brothers have an allegorical meaning, for See 11. 1008, 1011. which see p. 10. "It seemed to me. Me is here the 3 That is, if you will not ask for his life. dative. s ; ltI j . • mischance. GARETH AND LYNETTE. Or some device, hast foully overthrown), ' morning star that smilest in the blue, 975 star, my morning dream hath proven true, . Smile sweetly, thou ! my love hath smiled on me. 5 1 " But thou begone, take counsel, and away, For hard by here is one that guards a ford — The second brother in their fool's parable 2 — 980 Will pay thee all thy wages, and to boot. 3 Care not for shame: thou art not knight but knave." To whom Sir Gareth answer'd, laughingly, " Parables ? Hear a parable of the knave. When I was a kitchen-knave among the rest 985 Fierce was the hearth, and one of my co-mates Own'd a rough dog, to whom he cast his coat, ' Guard it,' and there was none to meddle with it.* And such a coat art thou, and thee the King Gave me to guard, and such a dog am I, 990 To worry, and not to flee — and — knight or knave — The knave that doth thee service as full knight Is all as good, meseems, as any knight Toward thy sister's freeing." "Ay, Sir Knave! Ay, knave, because thou strikest as a knight, 995 Being but knave, I hate thee all the more." " Fair damsel, ye should worship 6 me the more, That, being but knave, I throw thine enemies." " Ay, ay," she said, " but thou shalt meet thy match." 1 These songs of Lynette are, of course, 3 in addition. Tennyson's way of showing the gradual * No one dared to touch it. change of her feeling. s Worship and honor in the old romances 2 See 1. 1169 f. have much the same sense. 70 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. So when they touch'd the second riverloop, 1000 Huge on a huge red horse, and all in mail Burnish'd to blinding, shone the Noonday Sun Beyond a raging shallow. As if the flower, That blows a globe of after arrowlets, Ten thousandfold had grown, flash'd the fierce shield, 1005 All sun; and Gareth's eyes had flying blots Before them when he turn'd from watching him. He from behind the roaring shallow roar'd " What doest thou, brother, 1 in my marches 2 here? " And she athwart the shallow shrill'd again, 1010 " Here is a kitchen-knave from Arthur's hall Hath overthrown thy brother, and hath his arms." " Ugh! " cried the Sun, and vizoring up 3 a red And cipher face of rounded foolishness, Push'd horse across the foamings of the ford, 1015 Whom Gareth met midstream; no room was there For lance or tourney-skill: four strokes they struck With sword, and these were mighty; the new knight Had fear he might be shamed; but as the Sun Heaved up a ponderous arm to strike the fifth, 1020 The hoof of his horse slipt in the stream, the stream Descended, and the Sun was wash'd away. Then Gareth laid his lance athwart the ford; So drew him home; but he that would not fight, As being all bone-battered on the rock, 1025 Yielded; and Gareth sent him to the King. " Myself when I return will plead for thee. Lead, and I follow." Quietly she led. " Hath not the good wind, damsel, changed again ? " 4 " Nay, not a point: i nor art thou victor here. » He thought Gareth was the Morning- See 1. %9. Star, because he had taken his shield. • not a point of the compass, by which 3 boundaries. the wind is commonly reckoned. Lynette 9 covering by closing his visor. will not yet admit that she was wrong. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 71 1030 There lies a ridge of slate across the ford; His horse thereon stumbled — ay, for I saw it. "'0 Sun ' (not this strong fool who thou, Sir Knave, Hast overthrown thro' mere unhappiness), ' San, that wakenest all to bliss ©r pain, 1035 moon, that layest all to sleep again, Shine sweetly : twice my love hath smiled on me. ' " What knowest thou ' of lovesong or of love ? Nay, nay, God wot, so thou wert nobly born, Thou hast a pleasant presence. Yea, perchance, 2 1040 " ' O dewy flowers that open to the sun, O dewy flowers that close when day is done, Blow sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me.' "What knowest thou of flowers, except, belike, To garnish meats with ? hath not our good King 1045 Who lent me thee, the flower of kitchendom, A foolish love for flowers ? what stick ye round The pasty? wherewithal deck the boar's head? Flowers ? nay, the boar hath rosemaries and bay. " ' birds, that warble to the morning sky, 1050 O birds, that warble as the day goes by, Sing sweetly : twice my love hath smiled on me. ' " What knowest thou of birds, lark, mavis,' merle, 4 Linnet? what dream ye when they utter forth May-music growing with the growing light, 1055 Their sweet sun-worship ? these be for the snare (So runs thy fancy), these be for the spit, 6 1 How Bhould a scullion know anything 3 thrush. 4 blackbird. / 1 of noble life ? 6 You only think whether they are suit- '/ 2 perhaps. able for the kitchen or not. V(/y 72 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Larding and basting. See thou have not now Larded thy last, except ' thou turn and fly. There stands the third fool of their allegory." 1060 For there beyond a bridge of treble bow, All in a rose-red from the west, and all Naked it seem'd, and glowing in the broad Deep-dimpled current underneath, the knight, That named himself the Star of Evening, stood. 1065 And Gareth, " Wherefore waits the madman there Naked in open dayshine ? " " Nay," she cried, "Not naked, only wrapt in hardened skins That fit him like his own; and so ye cleave His armor off him, these will turn the blade." 1070 Then the third brother shouted o'er the bridge, " O brother-star, why shine ye here so low ? Thy ward 2 is higher up : but have ye slain The damsel's champion? " and the damsel cried, " No star of thine, but shot from Arthur's heaven 1075 With all disaster unto thine and thee! For both thy younger brethren have gone down Before this youth; and so wilt thou, Sir Star; Art thou not old?" " Old, damsel, old and hard, Old, with the might and breath of twenty boys.' 1080 Said Gareth, " Old, and over-bold in brag! But that same strength which threw the Morning-Star Can throw the Evening." Then that other blew A hard and deadly note upon the horn. 1 unless. * P'ace to guard. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 73 " Approach and arm me! ' With slow steps from out 1085 An old storm-beaten, russet, many-stain'd Pavilion, forth a grizzled damsel came, And arm'd him in old arms, and brought a helm With but a drying evergreen for crest, And gave a shield whereon the Star of Even l#9i Half-tarnish'd and half-bright, his emblem, shone. 1 But when it glittered over the saddle-bow, They madly hurl'd together on the bridge, And Gareth overthrew him, lighted, drew. There met him drawn, and overthrew him again, 1095 But up like fire he started: and as oft As Gareth brought him grovelling on his knees, So many a time he vaulted up again ; Till Gareth panted hard, and his great heart, Foredooming 2 all his trouble was in vain, 1100 Labor'd within him, for he seem'd as one That all in later, sadder age begins To war against ill uses of a life, But these from all his life arise, and cry, " Thou hast made us lords, and canst not put us down! " 1105 He half despairs; so Gareth seem'd to strike Vainly, the damsel clamoring all the while, " Well done, knave-knight, well-stricken, O good knight-knave — O knave, as noble as any of all the knights — Shame me not, shame me not. I have prophesied — 1110 Strike, thou art worthy of the Table Round — His arms are old, he trusts the harden'd skin — Strike — strike — the wind will never change again." ' And Gareth hearing ever stronglier smote, And hew'd great pieces of his armor off him, 1115 But lash'd in vain against the harden'd skin, 1 Note the difference from the arms of the s judging beforehand. Morning-Star. 3 See 11. 969, 1038. 74 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. And could not wholly bring him under, more Than loud South westerns, rolling ridge on ridge, The buoy that rides at sea, and dips and springs Forever; till at length Sir Gareth's brand 1120 Clash'd his, and brake it utterly to the hilt. " I have thee now; " but forth that other sprang. And, all unknightlike, writhed his wiry arms Around him, till he felt, despite his mail, Strangled, but straining ev'n his uttermost 1125 Cast, and so hurl'd him headlong o'er the bridge Down to the river, sink or swim, and cried, "Lead, and I follow." But the damsel said, "I lead no longer; ride thou at my side; Thou art the kindliest of all kitchen-knaves. 1 J to J 1130 " ' trefoil, sparkling on the rainy plain, rainbow with three colors after rain, Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath smiled on me." " Sir, — and good faith, I fain had added — knight, But that I heard thee call thyself a knave, — 1135 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 1140 As any of Arthur's best, but, being knave, Hast mazed my wit: I marvel what thou art." " Damsel," he said, " ye be not all to blame, Saving that ye mistrusted our good King Would handle scorn, or yield thee, asking, one > ecullions. a See 1. 976. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 75 1145 Not fit to cope thy quest.' Ye said your say; Mine answer was my deed. Good sooth! I hold He scarce is knight, yea but half-man, nor meet To fight for gentle damsel, he, who lets His heart be stirr'd with any foolish heat 1150 At any gentle damsel's waywardness. Shamed ? care not! thy foul sayings fought for me: And seeing now my words are fair, methinks, There rides no knight, not Lancelot, his great self, 1 Hath force to quell me." Nigh upon that hour 1155 When the lone hern forgets his melancholy, Lets down his other leg, and stretching dreams Of goodly supper in the distant pool, Then turn'd the noble damsel smiling at him, And told him of a cavern hard at hand, 1160 "Where bread and baken meats and good red wine Of Southland, which the Lady Lyonors Had sent her coming champion, waited him. h Anon they past a narrow comb 3 wherein Were slabs of rock with figures, knights on horse 1165 Sculptured, and deckt in slowly-waning hues. " Sir Knave, my knight, a hermit once was here, Whose holy hand hath fashion'd on the rock The war of Time against the soul of man. And yon four fools have suck'd their allegory 1170 From these damp walls, and taken but the form. 4 Know ye not these ? " and Gareth lookt and read — In letters like to those the vexillary 1 to accomplish your adventure. 4 The allegory as inscribed on the rock a Lancelot was the most powerful of the had a meauing. The brothers took but the Knights of the Round Table. names and forms, having no conception of 3 A comb is a hollow in a hillside. the thought at bottom. 76 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Hath left crag-carven o'er the streaming Gelt ' — " Phosphorus," then " Mekidies " — " Hesperus "— 1175 " Nox "— " Mors/ " beneath five figures, armed men, Slab after slab, their faces forward all, And running down the Soul, a Shape that fled "With broken wings, torn raiment and loose hair, For help and shelter to the hermit's cave. 3 1180 " Follow the faces, and we find it. Look, Who comes behind ? " For one — delay'd at first Thro' helping back the dislocated Kay To Camelot, then by what thereafter chanced, The damsel's headlong error 4 thro' the wood — 1185 Sir Lancelot having swum the river-loops — His blue shield-lions cover'd — softly drew Behind the twain, and when he saw the star 5 Gleam, on Sir Gareth's turning to him, cried, " Stay, felon knight, I avenge me for my friend." 1190 And Gareth crying prick 'd against the cry; But when they closed — in a moment — at one touch Of that skill'd spear, the wonder of the world — Went sliding down so easily, and fell, That when he found the grass within his hands 1195 He laugh'd; the laughter jarr'd upon Lynette: Harshly she ask'd him, " Shamed and overthrown, And tumbled back into the kitchen-knave, Why laugh ye ? that ye blew your boast in vain ? " * There are Roman inscriptions cut in a 3 The hermit's idea emphasized the stnig- reck above the Gelt, a small stream in Cum- glc of the soul in the world. The soul, pur- berlaild, One of them has mention of a sued by Youth, Middle Age, Old Age, and ■vencillntio, or detachment of one of the old Death, seeks refuge in Religion. Roman legions. The rexillary would have * wandering from the path, been a soldier in such a detachment. 6 Lancelot, on seeing the shield of the 1 These are Latin names for "Morn- Morning-Star, thought Gareth had been ing Star," " Midday," " Evening Star," overcome. A knight was known by his "Night," "Death." shield. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 77 " Nay, noble damsel, but that I, the son 1200 Of old King Lot and good Queen Bellicent, And victor of the bridges and the ford, And knight of Arthur, here lie thrown by whom I know not, all thro' mere unhappiness — Device and sorcery and unhappiness — 1205 Out, sword; we are thrown!" and Lancelot answer 'd, " Prince, Gareth — thro' the mere unhappiness Of one who came to help thee not to harm, Lancelot, and all as glad to find thee whole, As on the day when Arthur knighted him." 1210 Then Gareth, " Thou — Lancelot! — thine the hand That threw me ? And some chance to mar the boast Thy brethren of thee make — which could not chance — Had sent thee down before a lesser spear Shamed had I been and sad — Lancelot — thou! ' : 1215 Whereat the maiden, petulant, " Lancelot, Why came ye not, when call'd ? and wherefore now Come ye, not call'd ? I gloried in my knave, "Who being still ' rebuked, would answer still Courteous as any knight — but now, if knight, 1220 The marvel dies, and leaves me fool'd and trick'd, And only wondering wherefore play'd upon : And doubtful whether I and mine be scorn'd. Where should be truth if not in Arthur's hall, 2 In Arthur's presence ? Knight, knave, prince and fool, 1225 I hate thee and forever." And Lancelot said, " Blessed be thou, Sir Gareth! knight art thou » continually. « Yet even in the court of Arthur, Gareth had appeared deceitfully. See 1. 291. 78 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. To the King's best wish. damsel, be ye wise To call him shamed, who is but overthrown? Thrown have I been, nor once, but many a time. 1230 Victor from vanquished issues at the last, And overthrower from being overthrown. With sword we have not striven; ' and thy good horse And thou art weary; vet not less I felt Thy manhood thro' that wearied lance of thine. 1235 Well hast thou done: for all the stream is freed, And thou hast wreak'd his justice on his foes, And when reviled, hast answer'd graciously, And makest merry, when overthrown. Prince, Knight, Hail, Knight and Prince, and of our Table Round! " 1240 And then when turning to Lynette he told The tale of Gareth, petulantly she said, :i Ay well — ay well — for worse than being fool'd Of others, is to fool one's self. A cave, Sir Lancelot, is hard by, with meats and drinks 1245 And forage for the horse, and flint for fire. But all about it flies a honeysuckle. Seek, till we find." And when they sought and found, Sir Gareth drank and ate, and all his life Past into sleep; on whom the maiden gaz'd. 1250 " Sound sleep be thine! sound cause to sleep hast thou. Wake lusty ! Seem I not as tender to him As any mother ? Ay, but such a one As all day long hath rated at her child, And vext his day, but blesses him asleep — 1255 Good lord, how sweetly smells the honeysuckle In the hush'd night, as if the world were one Of utter peace, and love, and gentleness! Lancelot, Lancelot " — and she clapt her hands — 1 The meeting on horseback, lunce in rest, was generally followed by combat with sword on foot. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 79 " Full merry am I to find my goodly knave 1260 Is knight and noble. See now, sworn have I, Else yon black felon had not let me pass, 1 To bring thee back to do the battle with him. Thus an thou goest, he will fight thee first : Who doubts thee victor ? so will my knight-knave 1265 Miss the full flower of this accomplishment." a Said Lancelot, " Perad venture he you name, May know my shield. Let Gareth, an he will, Change his for mine, and take my charger, fresh, Not to be spurr'd, loving the battle as well 1270 As he that rides him." " Lancelot-like," she said, " Courteous in this, Lord Lancelot, as in all." And Gareth, wakening, fiercely clutch 'd the shield; *' Eamp, ye lance-splintering lions, 3 on whom all spears Are rotten sticks! ye seem agape to roar! 1275 Yea, ramp and roar at leaving of your lord ! — Care not, good beasts, so well I care for you. noble Lancelot, from my hold on these Streams virtue — fire — thro' one that will not shame Even the shadow of Lancelot under shield. 1280 Hence let us go. " Silent the silent field They traversed. Arthur's harp 4 tho' summer-wan, In counter-motion 6 to the clouds, allured The glance of Gareth dreaming on his liege. A star shot: " Lo," said Gareth, " the foe falls! " 1285 An owl whoopt: " Hark the victor pealing there! " 1 See 11. 604, 605. so dark as in winter, so that the stars seem 9 deed accomplished. less bright. 3 on Lancelot's shield. 6 The clouds passing over the star made it * " Arthur's Harp " was the name of a seem as thojgh it were going in the contrary constellation or of a star. It is pale in sum- direction. Counter-motion means motion mer because in summer the nights are not the other wa.y. 80 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Suddenly she that rode upon his left Clung to the shield that Lancelot lent him crying, " Yield, yield him this again: 'tis he must fight: ' I curse the tongue that all thro' yesterday 1290 Reviled thee, and hath wrought on Lancelot now To lend thee horse and shield: wonders ye have done; Miracles ye cannot: here is glory enow having flung the three: I see thee maim'd, Mangled: I swe»e4hou canst not fling the fourth." 1295 " And wherefore, damsel ? tell me all ye know. Ye cannot scare me; nor rough face, or voice, Brute bulk of limb, or boundless savagery Appall me from the quest." "Nay, Prince," she cried, " God Avot, I never look'd upon the face, 1300 Seeing he never rides abroad by day; But watch 'd him have I like a phantom pass Chilling the night: nor have I heard the voice. Always he made his mouthpiece of a page Who came and went, and still reported him 1305 As closing in himself the strength of ten, And when his anger tare him, massacring Man, woman, lad and girl — yea, the soft babe — Some hold that he hath svvallow'd infant flesh, Monster! O Prince, I went for Lancelot first, 1310 The quest is Lancelot's: give him back the shield." Said Gareth laughing, " An he fight for this, Belike he wins it as the better man : Thus — and not else ? " But Lancelot on him urged All the devisings of their chivalry 1 Lynette was seized with sudden fear ; she had wished that Oareth should have all the honor : now she fears the danger so much that she wishes Lancelot to take the adventure. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 81 1315 Where one might meet a mightier than himself; How best to manage horse, lance, sword and shield, And so fill up the gap where force might fail AVith skill and fineness. 1 Instant 2 were his words. Then Gareth, " Here be rules. I know but one — 1320 To dash against mine enemy and to win. Yet have I watch'd thee victor in the joust, And seen thy way." 3 "Heaven help thee," sigh'd Lynette. Then for a space, and under cloud that grew To thunder-gloom palling all stars, they rode 1325 In converse till she made her palfrey halt, Lifted an arm, arid softly whisper'd, " There." And all the three were silent seeing, pitch'd Beside the Castle Perilous on flat field, I A huge pavilion like a mountain peak 1330 Sunder the glooming crimson on the marge, Black, with black banner, and a long black horn iBeside it hanging; which Sir Gareth graspt, And so, before the two could hinder him, Sent all his heart and breath thro' all the horn. 1335 Echo'd the walls; a light twinkled; anon Came lights and lights, and once again he blew; Whereon were hollow tramplings up and down And muffled voices heard, and shadows past; Till high above him, circled with her maids, 1340 The Lady Lyonors at a window stood, Beautiful among lights, and waving to him White hands, and courtesy; but when the Prince Three times had blown — after long hush — at last — The huge pavilion slowly yielded up, 1 delicacy. » In spite of his headlong dash, Gareth * pressing. had noticed Lancelot carefully. 82 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 1345 Thro' those black foldings, that which housed ' therein. High on a nightblack horse, in nightblack arms, With white breast-bone, and barren ribs of Death, And crown'd with fleshless laughter — some ten steps — In the half light — through the dim dawn — advanced 1350 The monster, and then paused, and spake no word. But Gareth spake and all indignantly. " Fool, for thou hast, men say, the strength of ten, Canst thou not trustfthe limbs thy God hath given, But must, to make the terror of thee more, 1355 Trick thyself out in ghastly imageries Of that which Life hath done with, and the clod, Less dull than thou, will hide with mantling flowers As if for pity ? " 3 But he spake no word; Which set the horror higher: a maiden swoon'd; 1360 The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands and wept, As doom'd to be the bride of Night and Death; Sir Gareth's head prickled beneath his helm; And ev'n Sir Lancelot thro' his warm blood felt Ice strike, and all that mark'd him were aghast. 1365 At once Sir Lancelot's charger fiercely neigh'd — At once the black horse bounded forward with him. Then those that did not blink the terror, saw That Death was cast to ground, and slowly rose. But with one stroke Sir Gareth split the skull. 1370 Half fell to right and half to left and lay. Then with a stronger buffet he cleft the helm As throughly 3 as the skull; and out from this Issued the bright face of a blooming boy Fresh as a flower new-born, and crying, " Knight, 1375 Slay me not: my three brethren bade me do it, » dwelt. * Even the earth hides the dead with flowers rather than with signs of mourning » entirely. GARETH AND LYNETTE. 83 To make a horror all about the house, And stay the world from Lady Lyonors. They never dream'd the passes would be past." Answer'd Sir Gareth graciously to one 1380 Not many a moon his younger, " My fair child, What madness made thee challenge the chief knight Of Arthur's hall ? " " Fair Sir, they bade me do it. They hate the King, and Lancelot, the King's friend, They hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream, 1385 They never dream'd the passes could be past." Then sprang the happier day from under-ground; And Lady Lyonors and her house, with dance And revel and song, made merry over Death, As being after all their foolish fears 1390 And horrors only prov'n a blooming boy. So large mirth lived, and Gareth won the quest. And he that told the tale in older times Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyonors, But he, that told it later, says Lynette. ' 1 " He that told the tale in older times " Gareth had really fought for Lynette, and is Malory (p. 9). But Tennyson feels that that it is Lynette whom he should win. V* SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. AN EPISODE. And the first gray of morning filled the east, K> ji ./ And the fog rose out of the Oxus l stream. But all the Tartar 2 camp along the stream y Was hushed, and still the men were plunged in sleep; 5 Sohrab alone, he slept not; all night long He had lain wakeful, tossing on his bed; But when the gray dawn stole into his tent, lie rose, arm 1 clad himself, aiid girt his sword, And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent, 10 And went abroad into the cold wet fog, Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's 3 tent. Through the black Tartar tents he passed, which stood Clustering like beehives on the_lo w fiat strand y/ Of Oxus , where the summe r-flood s o'erflow 15 When the sun melts the snows inhigh Pamere; Through the black tents he passed, o'er that low strand, And to a hillock came, a little back From the stream's brink — the spot where first a boat, Crossing the stream in summer, 4 scrapes the land. 80 The men of former times had crowned the top With a clay fort; but that was falPn, and now The Tartars built there Peran-Wisa's tent, A dome 5 of laths, and o'er it felts were spread. And Sohrab came there, and went in, and stood 25 Upon the thick piled carpets in the tent, 1 a river ri^in^ in the western Himalayas. Asia. In 11. 117-13.5 the poet mentions u It flows from the plateau called Pamere (1. number of the tribes. 15) or Pamir, north of Afghanistan, toward 3 Peran-Wisa, the chief of the Tartar the west and north into the Aral Sea. army. a The Tartan Include, looeely speaking, * when the river was flooded. numbers of half-civilized tribes of Central • It was rather larger than the other tenta. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 85 A J "umd the old man sleeping on his bed G gs and felts, and near him lay his arms. And Peran-Wisa heard him, though the step Was dulled; for he slept light, an old man's sleep; 30 And he rose quickly on one arm, and said : — " Who art thou ? for it is not yet clear dawn. Speak! is there news, or any night alarm ? " But Sohrab came to the bedside, and said: " Thou know'st me, Peran-Wisa! it is I. 35 The sun is not yet risen, and the foe Sleep; but I sleep not; all night long I lie Tossing and wakeful, and I come to thee. For so did King Afrasiab ' bid me seek Thy counsel, and to heed thee as thy son, 40 In Samarcand, 2 before the army marched; And I will tell thee what my heart desires. Thou know'st if, since from Ader-baijan 3 first I came among the Tartars and bore arms, I have still 4 served Afrasiab well, and shown, 45 At my boy's years, the courage of a man. This too thou know'st, that while I still bear on The conquering Tartar ensigns through the world, And beat the Persians 5 back on every field, I seek one man, one man, and one alone — 50 Rustum/ my father; who I hoped should greet, Should one day greet, upon some well-fought field, His not unworthy, not inglorious son. So I long hoped, but him I never find. Come then, hear now, and grant me what I ask. 55 Let the two armies rest to-day; but I 1 the ruler, for the time being, of all the epic of Persia (see p. 11), of which a greu- Tartar tribes that would submit to him. part consists of a poetical account of the * Samarcand, in what is now Turkestan, struggles of the Persians with the Turanian north of Afghanistan. (or Tartar) invaders. 3 in the northern part of Persia. * Rustum, the great legendary hero of 4 continually. Persia, a champion of unconquerable might * This tale is an episode in the national and power. 6 86 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Will challenge forth the bravest Persian lords To meet me, man to man; if I prevail, Rustuin will surely hear it; if I fall — Old man, the dead need no one, claim no kin. 60 Dim is the rumor of a common ' fight, Where host meets host, and many names are sunk; But of a single combat fame speaks clear." He spoke; and Peran-Wisa took the hand Of the young man in his, and sighed, and said: 65 " Sohrab, an unquiet heart is thine: Canst thou not rest among the Tartar chiefs, And share the battle's common chance with us Who love thee, but must press forever first, In single fight incurring single risk, 70 To find a father thou hast never seen ? That were far best, my son, to stay with us Unmurmuring; in our tents, while it is war, And when 'tis truce, 2 then in Af rasiab's towns. But, if this one desire indeed rules all, 75 To seek out Rustum — seek him not through fight! Seek him in peace, and carry to his arms, Sohrab! carry an unwounded son! But far hence seek him, for he is not here. 3 For now it is not as when I was young, 80 When Rustum was in front of every fray; But now he keeps apart, and sits at home, In Seistan, 4 with Zal, his father old. Whether that his own mighty strength at last Feels the abhorred approaches of old age, 85 Or in some quarrel with the Persian King. 6 There cro! — thou wilt not? Yet my heart forebodes Danger or deatli awaits thee on this field. Fain would I know thee safe and well, though lost ' a fight in which everybody is engaged. * Seistan was a province of Afghanistan. 1 a short peace. » Sec II. SSI ff. 6 Bee I. 226. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 87 To us; fain therefore send thee hence, in peace 90 To seek thy father, not seek single fights In vain; — but 1 who can keep the lion's cub From ravening, and who govern Eustnm's son ? Go, I will grant thee what thy heart desires." So said he, and dropped Sohrab's hand, and left 95 His bed, and the warm rugs whereon he lay; And o'er his chilly limbs his woolen coat He passed, and tied his sandals on his feet, And threw a white cloak round him, and he took In his right hand a ruler's staff, no sword ; 100 And on his head he set his sheepskin cap, Black, glossy, curled, the fleece of Kara-Kul;* And raised the curtain of his tent, and called His herald to his side, and went abroad. The sun by th isj had risen, and cleared- tlie fog y 105 From the broa d Oxu s_and the glittering sands. ^ And from their tents the Tartar horsemen filed Into the open plain; so Hainan bade — Haman, who next to Peran-Wisa ruled The host, and still was in his lusty prime. 110 From their black tents, long files of horse, they streamed; As when some gray November morn the files, In marching order spread, of long-necked cranes Stream over C a s jgj u 3 and the southern slopes Of Elburz, 4 from the Aralian 5 estuaries, 115 Or some frore ' Caspian 5 reed-bed, southward bound For the warm Persian seaboard — so they streamed. The Tartars of the Oxus^ the King's guard, 1 The dash indicates a break in the con- 4 a chain of mountains running south of etruction. Peran-Wisa sees the hopeless- the present northern boundary of Persia. ness of what he is saying, and stops short. 5 The Caspian and the Aral Sea are both 2 Kara-Kul is in Bokhara. This passage north of Persia. The cranes were migrat- is rather characteristic of Arnold's style (p. ing southward for the winter. 31), but the detail is carried to an excess 6 frozen. that is almost prosaic. 7 In the following passage Arnold uses 3 a city of Persia. geographical names with a view of giving a 88 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. First, with black sheepskin caps and with long spears-, Large men, large steeds; who from Bokhara come 120 And Khiva, and ferment the milk of 'mares. Next, the more temperate Toorkmnns of the south, The Tukas, and the lances of Salore, And those from At track and the Caspian sands; Light men and on light steeds, who only drink 125 The acrid milk of camels, and their wells. And then a swarm of wandering horse, who came From far, and a more doubtful service owned; The Tartars of Ferg hana, from the banks Of the Jaxartes, men with scanty beards 130 And close-set skull caps; and those wilder hordes Who roam o'er Kipchak and the northern waste, Kalmuck s and unkempt Kuzzaks, tribes who stray Nearest the Pole, and Avandering Kirghizzes, Who come on shaggy ponies from Pamere* ; 135 These all filed out from camp into the plain. And on the other side the Persians formed; — First a light cloud of horse, Tartars they seemed, The Ilyats ' of Khorassan, 2 and behind, The royal troops of Persia, horse and foot, 140 Marshaled battalions bright in burnished steel.' Bat PeranAYisa with his herald came, Threading the Tartar squadrons to the front, And with his staff kept back the foremost ranks. general effect of variety and greatness. It Kalmuck is a very general name, as also is not necessary to know the exact where- Kuzzak, or, as more commonly spelled, Cob- aboutBOf each place, nor would it be easy sacks. The Kirghizzes are of Mongolian to tell without a map. Most of the places stock, coining from further east than the and people mentioned will he found on any rest. good modern map of Persia, Afghanistan, > tribes. and Turkestan. TheOznfl Is now called the a an eastern province of Persia. Amu Daria. Khiva ami Bokhara will be • The Persians were a more civilized peo- easily found. The Toorkmans are more pie than the Tartars, and had attained a commonly called Turcomans. TheAttrnck greater military discipline, although they empties into the Caspian. The Jaxartes, larked the wild fierceness and courage of now called tiie sir Daria, empties into the the Tartar host: see also line 193 and the Aral Sea. Ferghana is a part of Turkestan, note on it. A SOHRAB AND KUSTUM. 89 And when Ferood, who led the Persians, saw 145 That Perau-Wisa kept the Tartars back, He took his spear, and to the front he came, And checked his ranks, and fixed them where they stood. And the old Tartar came npon the sand Betwixt the silent hosts, and spake, and said: 150 " Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear! Let there be t ruce between the hosts to-day. But choose a champion from the Persian lords To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man." As, in the country, on a morn in June, 155 When the dew glistens on the pearled ears, T~~ A shiver runs through the deep corn for joy — So, when they heard what Peran-Wisa said, A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran Of pride and hope for Sohrab, whom they loved. 160 But as a troop of peddlers, fi^mCabpol, 1 Cr f oss underneath the Indian Caucasus, 2 s^.* That vast sky-neighboring mountain of milk snow; Crossing so high, that, as they mount, they pass Long flocks of traveling birds dead on the snow, 165 Choked by the air, 3 and scarce can they themselves Slake their parched throats with sugared mulberries — In single file they move, and stop their breath, For fear they should dislodge the o'erhanging snows — So the pale Persians held their breath with fear. 170 And to Ferood his brother chiefs came up To counsel; Gudurz and Zoarrah came, And Feraburz, who ruled the Persian host Second, and was the uncle of the King; Tliese came and counseled, and then Gudurz said: 175 " Ferood, shame bids us take their challenge up, 1 th^a^jtaTbf Afghanistan. is almost impossible to breathe it. These 2 the Hindoo Koosh Mountains. birds had flown so high in trying to get • The higher one goes the more rarefied over the great mountains, that they had becomes the air, until upon great heights it risen to where the air was unbreathable. 90 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Yet champion have we none to match this youth. He has the wild stag's foot, the lion's heart. But Rustum came last night; aloof he sits And sullen, and has pitched his tents apart. 180 Him will I seek, and carry to his ear The Tartar challenge and this young man's name. Haply he will forget his wrath, and fight. Stand forth the while, and take their challenge up." So spake he; and Ferood stood forth and cried: 185 " Old man, be it agreed as thou hast said! Let Sohrab arm, and we will find a man." He spake: and Peran-Wisa turned, and strode Back through the opening squadrons to his tent. But through the anxious Persians Gudnrz ran, 190 And crossed the camp which lay behind, and reached, Out on the sands beyond it, Rustum's tents. Of scarlet cloth 1 they were, and glittering gay, Just pitched; the high pavilion in the midst Was Rustum's, and his men lay camped around. 195 And Gudurz entered Rustum's tent, and found ,*. Rustum; his morning meal was done, but still The table stood before him, charged with food — A side of roasted sheep, and cakes of bread, And dark-green melons; and there Rustum sate 200 Listless, and held a falcon a en his wrist, And played with it; but Gudurz came and stood Before him; and he looked, and saw him stand, And with a cry sprang up and dropped the bird, And greeted Gudurz with both hands, and said: 205 " Welcome! these eyes could see no better sight. What news? but sit down first, and eat and drink." But Gudnrz stood in the tent-door, and said: 1 Note the greater luxury among the Per- of birds with trained falcons, has been iaa than among the Tartars, prevalent in the East from most ancient 3 The sport of falconry, or the hunting times. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 91 " Not now! a time will come to eat and drink, But not to-day; to-day has other needs. 210 The armies are drawn out, and stand at gaze; For from the Tartars is a challenge brought To pick a champion from the Persian lords To fight their champion — and thou know'st his name — Sohrab men call him. but his birth is hid. 1 215 Eustum, like thy might is this young man's! He has the wild stag's foot, the lion's heart; And he is young, and Iran's 2 chiefs are old, Or else too weak; and all eyes turned to thee. Come down and help us, Eustum, or we lose! " He spoke; but Eustum answered with a smile: 220 " Go to! if Iran's chiefs are old, then I Am older; if the young are weak, the King Errs strangely; for the King, for Kai K h osro o, 3 Himself is young, and honors younger men, 225 And lets the aged molder in their graves. Eustum he loves no more, but loves the young — The youug may rise at Sohrab's vaunts, not I. For what care I, though all speak Sohrab's fame? For would that I myself had such a son, 4 230 And not that one slight helpless girl b I have — A son so famed, so brave, to send to war, And I to tarry with the snow-haired Zal, 6 My father, whom the robber Afghans 7 vex And clip his borders short, and drive his herds, 235 And he has none to guard his weak old age. There would I go, and hang my armor up, And with my great name fence that weak old man, 1 This was, of course, the reason for all born with snow-white hair. This was con- the evil that followed. sidered unpropitious, and the child was es- a Iran, the Persian name for Persia. posed on the mountains. He was found 3 Cyrus the Great. and brought up, however, by the Simurgh, 4 This is the poet's irony. a wonderful griffin. See 11. 679-682. 6 See p. 11. 7 Seistan, where Zal then lived, is now a 6 Zal, the father of Rustum, had been part of Afghanistan. 92 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. And spend the goodly treasures I have got, And rest my age, and hear of Sohrab's fame, 240 And leave to death the hosts of thankless kings, And with these slaughterous hands draw sword no more." He spoke, and smiled; and Gudurz made reply: •• What then, Rustum, will men say to this, When Sohrab dares our bravest forth, and seeks 245 Thee most of all, and thou, whom most he seeks, Hidest thy face? Take heed lest men should say: ' Like some old miser, Rustum hoards his fame, And shuns to peril it with younger men.' " And, greatly moved, then Rustum made reply: 250 " Gudurz, wherefore dost thou say such words? Thou knowest better words than this to say. What is one more, one less, obscure or famed, Valiant or craven, young or old, to me ? Are not they mortal, am not I myself? 255 But who for men of naught would do great deeds ? Come, thou shalt see how Rustum hoards his fame! But I will fight unknown, and in plain arms; Let not men say of Rustum, he was matched In single fight with any mortal man." 2G0 He spoke, and frowned; and Gudurz turned, and ran Back quickly through the camp in fear and joy — Fear at his wrath, but joy that Rustum came. But Rustum strode to his tent door, and called His followers in, and bade them bring his arms, 265 And clad himself in steel; the arms he chose Were plain, and on his shield was no device, Only his helm was rich, inlaid with gold, And, from the fluted spine atop, a plume Of horsehair waved, a scarlet horsehair plume. 270 So armed, he issued forth; and Ruksh, 1 his horse, i In legends of chivalry the horse and the sword of the hero arc well-nigh as famous as himself. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 93 Followed him like a faithful hound at heel — Ruksh, whose renown was noised through all the earth, The horse, whom Rustum on a foray once Did in Bokhara by the river find 275 A colt beneath its dam, and drove him home, And reared him; a bright bay, with lofty crest, Dight ' with a saddlecloth of broidered green Crusted with gold, and on the ground were worked All beasts of chase, all beasts which hunters know. 280 So followed, Rustum left his tents, and crossed The camp, and to the Persian host appeared. And all the Persians knew him, and with shouts Hailed ; but the Tartars knew not who he was. And dear as the wet diver to the eyes 285 Of his pale wife who waits and weeps on shore, By sandy Bahrein, 2 in the Persian Gulf, Plunging all day in the blue waves, at night, Having made up his tale 3 of precious pearls, Rejoins her in their hut upon the sands — 290 So dear to the pale Persians Rustum came. And Rustum to the Persian front advanced, And Sohrab armed in Hainan's tent, and came. And as afield the reapers cut a swath Down through the middle of a rich man's corn, 295 And on each side are squares of standing corn, And in the midst a stubble, short and bare — So on each side were squares of men, with spears Bristling, and in the midst, the open sand. And Rustum came upon the sand, and cast 300 His eyes toward the Tartar tents, and saw Sohrab come forth, and eyed him as he came. As some rich woman, on a winter's morn, Eyes through her silken curtains the poor drudge Who with numb blackened fingers makes her fire — i clothed, caparisoned. 2 an island famous for its pearl-diving. ' the required amount. 94 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 305 At cockcrow, on a starlit winter's morn, When the frost flowers the whitened window-panes 1 — And wonders how she lives, and what the thoughts Of that poor drudge may be; so Rustum eyed The unknown adventurous Youth, who from afar 310 Came seeking Eustum, and defying forth All the most valiant chiefs; long he perused* His spirited air, and wondered who he was. For very young he seemed, tenderly reared ; Like some young cypress, tall, and dark, and straight, 315 Which in a queen's secluded garden throws Its slight dark shadow on the moonlit turf, By midnight, to a bubbling fountain's sound- So slender Sohrab seemed, so softly reared. And a deep pity entered Rustum's 60ul 320 As he beheld him coming; and he stood, And beckoned to him with his hand, and said: " thou young man, the air of heaven is soft, And warm, and pleasant; but the grave is cold! Heaven's air is better than the cold dead grave: 325 Behold me! I am vast, and clad in iron, And tried; 3 and I have stood on many a field Of blood, and I have fought with many a foe — Xever was that field lost, or that foe saved. Sohrab, wherefore wilt thou rush on death? 330 Be governed! quit the Tartar host, and come To Iran, and be as my son 4 to me, And fight beneath my banner till I die! There are no youths in Iran brave as thou." So he spake, mildly; Sohrab heard his voice, 335 The mighty voice of Rustum, and he saw ' This simile, so obviously drawn from 3 experienced, proved, modern life, hardly seems so much in keep- « Here again the irony of the poet, and " ing with the general tone of the poem as do here, as later in I. 447, the evil outcome others. hangs in the balance. But Fate is deter- * examined carefully. mined : see 1. 709. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 95 His giant figure planted on the sand, Sole, like some single tower, which a chief Hath builded on the waste in former years Against the robbers; and he saw that head, 340 Streaked with its first gray hairs; — hope filled his soul, And he ran forward and embraced his knees, And clasped his hand within his own, and said: " Oh, by thy father's head! by thine own soul! Art thou not Rustum? speak! art thou not he?" 345 But Rustum eyed askance the kneeling youth, And turned away, and spake to his own soul: " Ah me, I muse what this young fox may mean! False, wily, boastful, are these Tartar boys. For if I now confess this thing he asks, 350 And hide it not, but say: ' Rustum is here!'' He will not yield indeed, nor quit our foes, "But he will find some pretext not to fight, And praise my fame, and proffer courteous gifts, A belt or sword perhaps, and go his way. - > 355 And on a feast-tide, in Afrasiab's hall, In Samarcand, he will arise and cry: ' I challenged once, when the two armies camped- , Beside the Oxus, ._all the Persian lords \s To cope with me in single fight; but they 360 Shrank, only Rustum dared; then he and I Changed gifts, aud went on equal terms away.' So will he speak, perhaps, while men applaud; Then were the chiefs of Iran shamed through me." And then he turned, and sternly spake aloud: 365 "Rise! wherefore dost thou vamly question thus • Of Rustum ? I am here, whom thou hast called By challenge forth; make good thy vaunt, or yield! Is it with Rustum only thou wouldst fight? Rash boy, men look on Rustum's face and flee! 370 For well I know, that did great Rustum stand 96 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Before thy face this day, and were revealed, ' There would be then no talk of righting more. But being what I am, I tell thee this — Do thou record it in thine inmost soul: 375 Either thou shalt renounce thy vaunt and yield, Or else thy bones shall strew this sand, till winds Bleach them, or Oxus w UhJug-Sumrner floods, ^ OxusJji_sjiminejLjy^^ He spoke; and Sohrab answered, on his feet: 380 " Art thou so fierce? Thou wilt not fright me so! I am no girl; to be made pale by words. Yet this thou hast said well, did Ivustum stand Here on this field, there were no lighting then. But Rustum is far hence, and Ave stand here. 385 Begin ! thou art more vast, more dread than I, And thou art proved, I know, and I am young. But yet success sways ' with the breath of heaven. And though thou thinkest that thou knowest sure Thy victory, yet thou canst not surely know. 390 For we are all, like swimmers in the sea, Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate,* Which hangs uncertain to which side to fall. And whether it will heave us up to land, Or whether it will roll us out to sea, 305 Back out to sea, to the deep waves of death, We know not, and no search will make us know; < inly the event 3 will teach us in its hour." He spoke, and Rustum answered not, but hurled His spear; down from the shoulder, down it came, 400 As on some partridge in the corn a hawk, That long has towered in the airy clouds, Drops like a plummet; Sohrab saw it come, And sprang aside, quick as a flash; the spear > Success goes this way and that, as J We have litre the only long metaphor in heaven directs. the poem. 3 the outcome. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. * 97 Hissed, and went quivering down into the sand, | 405 Which it sent flying wide; — then Sohrab threw ,; ^ In turn, and full struck Rustnm's shield; sharp rang, The iron plates rang sharp, but turned the spear. And Rustum seized his club, which none but he Could wield; an unlopped ' trunk it was, and huge, 410 Still rough — like those which men in treeless plains To build them boats fish from the flooded rivers, Hypha6is or Hydaspes/ when, high up By their d&Vk springs, the wind in winter time Hath made in Himalayan forests wrack, 3 415 And strewn the channels with torn boughs — so huge The club Which Rustum lifted now, and struck One stroke; but again Sohrab sprang aside, Lithe as the glancing snake, and the club came Thundering to earth, and leapt from Rustum's hand. 420 And Rustum followed his own blow, and fell To his knees, and with his fingers clutched the sand; And now might Sohrab have unsheathed his sword, /And pierced the mighty Rustum while he lay Dizzy, and on his knees, and choked with sand; 425 But he looked on, and smiled, nor bai'ed his sword, But courteously drew back, and spoke, and said : "Thou strik'st too hard! that club of thine will float Upon the summer floods, and not my bones. But rise, and be not wroth! not wroth am I; 430 No, when I see thee, wrath forsakes my soul. Thou say'st, thou art not Rustum; be it so! Who art thou then, that canst so touch my soul ? Boy as I am, I have seen battles too — Have waded foremost in their bloody waves, 435 And heard their hollow roar of dying men; But never was my heart thus touched before. 1 with all the branches on. the Indus ; the modern names are Jhelum * rivers in northern India, running into and Beas. 3 the same as wreck, ruin. 7 #8 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Are they from Heaven, these softenings of the heart? thou old warrior, let us yield to Heaven! Come, plant we here in earth our angry spears, 440 And make a truce, and sit upon this sand, And pledge each other in red wine, like friends. And thou shalt talk to me of Rustum's deeds. There are enough foes in the Persian host, Whom I may meet, and strike, and feel no pang; 445 Champions enough Afrasiab has, whom thou Mayst fight; fight than, when they confront thy spear! But oh, let there be peace 'twixt thee and me!" 1 He ceased, but while he spake, Rustum had risen, And stood erect, trembling with rage; his club 450 He left to lie, but had regained his spear, Whose fiery point now in his mailed right hand Blazed bright and baleful, like that autumn star, 2 The baleful sign of fevers; dust had soiled His stately crest, and dimmed his glittering arms. 455 His breast heaved, his lips foamed, and twice his voice "Was choked with rage; at last these words broke way: " Girl! nimble with thy feet, not with thy hands! Curled minion, 3 dancer, coiner 4 of sweet words! Fight, let me hear thy hateful voice no more! 460 Thou art not in Afrasiab's gardens now With Tartar girls, with whom thou art wont to dance; y ButjULjlu3_0£u^san^_jiid in the dance I Of battle, and with me, who make no play Of war; I fight it out, and hand to hand. 4G5 Speak not to me of truce, and pledge, and wine! Remember all thy valor; try thy feints 6 And cunning! all the pity I had is gone; Because thou hast shamed me before both the hosts 1 See note on I. 331. s a pretended stroke, made to get one's « the Dog-star. adversary to leave himself unprotected in s a favorite, a darling. * a phrase-maker, trying to guard. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 99 With thy light skipping tricks, and thy girl's wiles." 470 He spoke, and Sohrab kindled at his taunts, And he too drew his sword ; at once they rushed Together, as two eagles on one prey Come rushing down together from the clouds, One from the east, one from the west; their shields 475 Dashed with a clang together, and a din Eose, such as that the sinewy wood-cutters Make often in the forest's heart at morn, Of hewing axes, crashing trees — such blows Rustum and Sohrab on each other hailed. 480 And you would say that sun and stars took part In that unnatural ' conflict; for a cloud Grew suddenly in heaven, and darked the sun f^tLe6d Over the fighters' heads; and a wind rose ^ Under their feet, and moaning swept the plain, 485 And in a sandy whirlwind wrapped the pair. In gloom they twain were wrapped, and they alone; For both the on-looking hosts on either hand Stood in broad daylight, a nd t he_sky wasjpure, Anj_the^un_sparkl ed on the Oxu s_streani. »-/ 490 But in the gloom they fought, with bloodshot eyes And laboring breath; first Rustum struck the shield Which Sohrab held stiff out; the steel-spiked spear Rent the tough plates, but failed to reach the skin, And Rustum plucked it back with angry groan .H 495 Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum's helm, Nor clove its steel quite through; but all the crest He shore away, and that proud horsehair plume, Never till now defiled, sank to the dust; And Rustum bowed his head; but then the gloom 500 Grew blacker, thunder rumbled in the air, And lightnings rent the cloud ; and Ruksh, the horse, Who stood at hand, uttered a dreadful cry; — 1 between father and son. 100 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. No horse's cry was that, most like the roar Of some pained desert lion, who all day 50J5 Hath trailed the hunter's' javelin in his side, And comes at night to die upon the sand. The two hosts heard that cry, and quaked for fear, And Oxus curdled as it crossed his stream. But Sohrab heard, and quailed not, but rushed on, 510 And struck again; and again Rustum bowed His head; but this time all the blade, like glass, Sprang in a thousand shivers on the helm, And in the hand the hilt remained alone. Then Rustum raised his head; his dreadful eyes 515 Glared, and he shook on high his menacing spear, And shouted: " Rustum! " — Sohrab heard that shout, And shrank amazed: back he recoiled one step, And scanned with blinking eyes the advancing form; And then he stood bewildered, and he dropped 520 His covering shield, and the spear pierced his side. He reeled, and, staggering back, sank to the ground; And then the gloom dispersed, and the wind fell, And the bright sun broke forth, and melted all The cloud; and the two armies saw the pair; — 525 Saw Rustum standing, safe upon his feet, And Sohrab, wounded, on the bloody sand. 1 Then, with a bitter smile, Rustum began : " Sohrab, thou thoughtest in thy mind to kill A Persian lord this day, and strip his corpse, 530 And bear thy trophies to Afrasiab's tent; Or else that the great Rustum would come down Himself to fight, and that thy wiles would move His heart to take a gift, and let thee go; And then that all the Tartar host would praise 535 Thy courage or thy craft, and spread thy fame, 1 Note the sudden change from the stirring description of the conflict and the calmness of II. 523 626. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 101 To glad ' thy father in his weak old age. Fool, thou art slain, and by an unknown man! Dearer to the red jackals 5 shalt thou be Than to thy friends, and to thy father old." 540 And, with a fearless mien, Sohrab replied: " Unknown thou art; yet thy fierce vaunt is vain. Thou 3 dost not slay me, proud and boastful man ! No! Eustum slays me, and this filial heart. For were I matched with ten such men as thee, 545 And I were that which till to-day I was, They should be lying here, I standing there. But that beloved name unnerved my arm — That name, and something, I confess, 4 in thee, Which troubles all my heart, and made my shield 550 Fall; and thy spear transfixed an unarmed foe. And now thou boastest, and insult'st my fate. But hear thou this, fierce man, tremble to hear: The mighty Eustum shall avenge my death! My father, whom I seek through all the world, 555 He shall avenge my death, and punish thee! " As when some hunter in the spring hath found A breeding eagle sitting on her nest, Upon the craggy isle of a hill-lake, And pierced her with an arrow as she rose, 560 And followed her to find her where she fell Far off ; — anon her mate comes winging back From hunting, and a great way off descries His huddling young left sole; at that, he checks His pinion, and with short uneasy sweeps 565 Circles above his eyry, with loud screams Chiding his mate back to her nest-; but she Lies dying, with the arrow in her side, In some far stony gorge out of his ken, 1 gladden. 3 The accent is upon the first syllable of 3 who prey upon dead bodies. the line. * See 1. 436. 102 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. A heap of fluttering feathers — never more 570 Shall the lake glass ' her, flying over it; Never the black and dripping precipices Echo her stormy scream as she sails by — As that poor bird flies home, nor knows his loss, So Rustum knew not his own loss, but stood 575 Over his dying son, and knew him not. But, with a cold, incredulous voice, he said: " What prate 2 is this of fathers and revenge? The mighty Rustum never had a son." And, with a failing voice, Sohrab replied: 580 " Ah yes, he had! and that lost son am I. Surely the news will one day reach his ear, Reach Rustum, where he sits, and tarries long, Somewhere, I know not where, but far from here; And pierce him like a stab, and make him leap 585 To arms, and cry for vengeance upon thee. Fierce man, bethink thee, for an only son! "What will that grief, what will that vengeance be ? Oh, could I live till I that grief had seen! Yet him I pity not so much, but her, 590 My mother, who in Ader-baijan dwells With that old king, her father, who grows gray With age, and rules over the valiant Koords. Her most I pity, who no more will see Sohrab returning from the Tartar camp, 595 With spoils and honor, when the war is done. But a dark rumor will be bruited up, From tribe to tribe, until it reach her ear; And then will that defenseless woman learn That Sohrab will rejoice her sight no more, 600 But that in battle with a nameless foe, ^/ By the far-dista nt Oxus, he is slain." He spoke; and as he ceased, he wept aloud, 1 reflect. 3 foolish talk. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 103 Thinking of her he left, and his own death. He spoke; but Rustum listened, plunged in thought. 605 Nor did he yet believe it was his son Who spoke, although he called back names he knew; For he had had sure tidings that the babe, Which was in Ader-baijan born to him, Had beeu a puny girl, no boy at all '— 610 So that sad mother sent him word, for fear Rustum should seek the boy, to train in arms. And so he deemed that either Sohrab took, By a false boast, the style 2 of Rustum's son; Or that men gave it him, to swell his fame. 615 So deemed he: yet he listened, plunged in thought; And his soul set to grief, as the vast tide s i «• » ' e Of the bright rocking Ocean sets to shore At the full moon; tears gathered in his eyes; For he remembered his ow"n early youth, 620 And all its bounding rapture; a s, at dawn, ^i, ic s«WU The shepherd from his mountain lodge descries A far, bright city, smitten by the sun, Through many rolling clouds— so Rustum saw His youth; saw Sohrab's mother, in her bloom; 625 And that old king, her father, who loved well ^ His wandering guest, and gave him his fair child With joy; and all the pleasant life they led, They three, in that long-distant summer time— The castle, and the dewy woods, and hunt 630 And hound, and morn on those delightful hills In Ader-baijan. And he saw that youth, Of age and looks to be his own dear son, Piteous and lovely, lying on the sand, Like some rich hyaciuthe which by the scythe ^ % ^ //£ 635 Of an unskillful gardener has been cut, -*f 4 *' Mowing the garden grassplots near its bed, i See Introduction, p. 11. 2 title ' name - 104 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. And lies, a fragrant tower of purple bloom, On the mown, dying grass — so Sohrab lay, Lovely in death, upon the common sand. 640 And Kustum gazed on him with grief, and said: " Sohrab, thou indeed art such a son Whom Rustum, wert thou his, might well have loved! Yet here thou errest, Sohrab, or else men Have told thee false — thou art not Rustum's son. 645 For Rustum had no son; one child he had — But one — a girl; who with her mother now Plies some light female task, nor dreams of us — Of us she dreams not, nor of wounds, nor war." But Sohrab answered him in wrath; for now 650 The anguish of the deep-fixed spear grew fierce, And he desired to draw forth the steel, And let the blood flow free, and so to die — But first he would convince his stubborn foe; And, rising sternly on one arm, he said: 655 " Man, who art thou who dost deny my words? Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine. 1 I tell thee, pricked upon this arm I bear The seal which Rustum to my mother gave, 660 That she might prick it on the babe she bore." He spoke; and all the blood left Rustum's cheeks, And his knees tottered, and he smote his hand Against his breast, his heavy mailed hand, That the hard iron corselet clanked aloud; 6G5 And to his heart he pressed the other hand, And in a hollow voice he spake, and said : " Sohrab, that were a proof which could not lie! If thou show this, then art thou Rustum's son." Then, with weak hasty fingers, Sohrab loosed 1 I never lied when living ; how much more do I now speak the truth when about to ilie. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. 105 670 His belt, and near the shoulder bared his arm, And showecl a sign in faint vermilion points Pricked; as a cunning workman, in Pekin, «^>- s . Pricks with vermilion some clear porcelain vase, An emperor's gift — at early morn he paints, 675 And all day long, and, when night comes, the lamp Lights up his studious forehead and thin hands — So delicately pricked the sign appeared On Sohrab's arm, the sign of Rustum's seal. It was that griffin, 1 which of old reared Zal, 680 Kustum's great father, whom they left to die, A helpless babe, among the mountain rocks; Him that kind creature found and reared, and loved — Then Rustum took it for his glorious sign. And Sohrab bared that image on his arm, 685 And himself scanned it long with mournful eyes, And then he touched it witli his hand, and said: " How say'st thou ? Is that sign the proper 3 sign Of Rustum's son, or of some other man's? " He spoke; but Rustum gazed, and gazed, and stood 690 Speechless; and then he uttered one sharp cry: " boy — thy father! " — and his voice choked there. And then a dark cloud passed before his eyes, And his head swam, and he sank down to earth. But Sohrab crawled to where he lay, and cast 695 His arms about his neck, and kissed his lips, And with fond faltering fingers stroked his cheeks, Trying to call him back to life; and life Came back to Rustum, and he oped his eyes, And they stood wide with horror; and he seized 700 In both his hands the dust which lay around, And threw it on his head, and smirched his hair, — His hair, and face, and beard, and glittering arms; 1 See 1. 232 and note on the mysterious 2 The word originally meant thatparticu- youth of Zal. larly belonging to one. 106 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. And strong convulsive groanings shook liis breast, And his sobs choked him; and he clutched his sword, 705 Tt) draw it, and forever let life out. ] ■^rBxit Sohrab saw his thought, and held his hands, And with a soothing voice he .spake, and said : "Father, forbear! for I but meet to-day The doom which at my birth was written down 710 In heaven, and thou art heaven's unconscious hand. Surely my heart cried out that it was thou, When first I saw thee; and thy heart spoke too, I know it! but fate trod those promptings down Under its iron heel; fate, fate engaged 715 The strife, and hurled me on my father's spear. But let us speak no more of this! I find My father; let me feel that I have found! Come, sit beside me on this sand, and take My head betwixt thy hands, and kiss my cheeks, 720 And wash them with thy tears, and say : ' My son ! ' Quick! quick! for numbered are my sands 2 of life And swift; for like the lightning to this field I came, and like the wind I go away — Sudden, and swift, and like a passing wind. 725 But it was writ in heaven that this should be." 'art So said he, and his voice released the he£ Of Rustum, and his tears broke forth; he cast ITis arms round his son's neck, and wept aloud, And kissed him. And awe fell on both the hosts, 730 When they saw Rustum's grief; and Ruksh, the horse, With his head bowing to the ground and mane Sweeping the dust, came near, and in mute woe First to the one then to the other moved His head, as if inquiring what their grief 735 Might mean; and from his dark, compassionate eyes, 1 He would have killed himself when he a The figure conies perhaps from the run- saw what he had done. ning out of the hour-glass. SOHRAB AND BUSTUM 107 The big warm tears rolled down, and caked the sand. But Rustum chid him with stern voice, and said : " Ruksh, now thou grievest; but, Ruksh, thy feet Should then have rotted on their nimble joints, 740 When first they brought thy master to this field! " But Sohrab looked upon the horse, and said: " Is this, then, Ruksh ? How often, in past days, My mother told me of thee, thou brave steed, My terrible father's terrible horse! and said, 745 That I should one day find thy lord and thee. Come, let me lay my hand upon thy mane ! Ruksh, thou art more fortunate than I; For thou hast gone where I shall never go, And snuffed the breezes of my father's home. 750 And thou hast trod the sands of Seistau, And seen the River of Hehnund, and the Lake 1 Of Zirrah; and the aged Zal himself Has often stroked thy neck, and given thee food, Corn in a golden platter soaked with wine, 755 And said: ' Ruksh! bear Rustum well,' — but I Have never known my grandsire's furrowed face, Nor seen his lofty house in Seistan, Nor slaked my thirst at the clear Helmund stream; But lodged among my father's foes, and seen 760 Afrasiab's cities only, Samarcand, Bokhara, and lone Khiva in the waste, And the black Toorkmun tents; and only drunk The desert rivers, Moorghab and Tejend, Kohik, and where the Kalmuks feed their sheep, 765 The northern Sir; 2 and t his grea t Oyhr st.rp.amr v The yellowjOxus, by whose brink I ^die^' Then, with a heavy groan, Rustum bewailed: 1 The places here mentioned are mostly in 2 the Jaxartes, or, as now called, the Syr- Afghanistan and Turkestan, and are sufli- Daria, which runs into the Aral Sea, to the ciently explained in the poem. north of the Oxus. 108 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. " Oh, that its waves were flowing over me! Oh, that I saw its grains of yellow silt' 770 Roll tumbling in the current o'er my head! " But, with a grave mild voice, Sohrab replied : " Desire not that, my father! thou must live." For some are born to do great deeds, and live, \As some are born to be obscured, and die. 775 Do thou the deeds I die too young to do, And reap a second glory in thine age; Thou art my father, and thy gain is mine. But come! thou seest this great host of men Which follow me; I pray thee, slay not these! 780 Let me entreat for them; what have they done ? They followed me, my hope, my fame, my star. Let them all cross the Oxusjjack in peace. But me thou~must bear hence, not send with them, But carry me with thee to Seistan, 785 And place me on a bed, and mourn for me, Thou, and the snow-haired Zal, and all thy friends. And thou must lay me in that lovely earth, And heap a stately mound above my bones, And plant a far-seen pillar over all. 790 That so the passing horseman on the waste May see my tomb a great way off, and cry: ' Sohrab, the mighty Rustum's son, lies there, Whom his great father did in ignorance kill! ' And I be not forgotten in my grave." 795 And, with a mournful voice, Rustum replied: " Fear not! as thou hast said, Sohrab, my son, So shall it be; for I will burn my tents, And quit the host, and bear thee hence with me, And carry thee away to Seistan, 800 And place thee on a bed, and mourn for thee, 1 soil carried along by the river. and dignity coming from approaching death, a Here the young man, with a seriousness gently restrains his father's passion. SOHRAB AND RUSTUM 109 With the snow-headed Zal, and all my friends. And I will lay thee in that lovely earth, And heap a stately mound above thy bones, And plant a far-seen pillar over all, 805 And men shall not forget thee in thy grave. And I will spare thy host; yea, let them go! Let them all cross th e Oxus bac k in peace! What should I do with slaying any more ? For would that all that I have ever slain 810 Might be once more alive; my bitterest foes, And they who were called champions in their time, And through whose death I won that fame I have — And I were nothing but a common man, A poor, mean soldier, and without renown, 815 So thou mightest live too, my son, my son! Or rather would that I, even I myself, Might now be lying on this bloody sand, Near death, and by an ignorant stroke of thine, Not thou of mine! and I might die, not thou; 820 And I, not thou, be borne to Seistan; And Zal might weep above my grave, not thine; And say : ' son, I weep thee not too sore, For willingly, I know, thou met'st thine end! ' But now in blood and battles was my youth, 825 And full of blood and battles is my age, And I shall never end this life of blood." Then, at the point of death, Sohrab replied: " A life of blood indeed, thou dreadful ' man! But thou shalt yet have peace; only not now, 830 Not yet! but thou shalt have it on that day When thou shalt sail in a high-masted ship, Thou and the other peers of Kai Khosroo, Returning home over the salt blue sea, From laying thy dear master in his grave." 1 awe-inspiring. 110 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 835 And Rustum gazed in Soli rub's face, and said: " Soon be that day, my son, and deep that sea! Till then, if fate so wills, let me endure." He spoke; and Sohrab smiled on him, and took The spear, and drew it from his side, and eased 840 His wound's imperious anguish; but the blood Came welling 1 from the open gash, and life Flowed with the stream; — all down his cold white side The crimson torrent ran, dim now and soiled, Like the soiled tissue of white violets 845 Left, freshly gathered, on their native bank, By children whom their nurses call with haste Indoors from the sun's eye; his head drooped low, His limbs grew slack; motionless, white, he lay — White, with eyes closed; only Avhen heavy gasps, 850 Deep heavy gasps quivering through all his frame, Convulsed him back to life, he opened them, And fixed them feebly on his father's face; Till now all strength was ebbed, and from his limbs Unwillingly the spirit, fled away, 855 Regretting the warm mansion a which it left, And youth, and bloom, and this delightful world. So, on the bloody sand, Sohrab lay dead; And the great Rustum drew his horseman's cloak Down o'er his face, and sate by his dead son. 860 As those black granite pillars, once high-reared By Jemshid 3 in Persepolis, to bear His house, now 'mid their broken flights of steps Lie prone, enormous, down the mountain side — So in the sand lay Rustum by his son. 865 And night came down over the solemn waste, And the two gazing hosts, and that sole pair, An d dark ened all; and a cold fog, with night, 1 Blow gushing. 3 Jemshid, a legendary king of Persia, 2 abiding-place. who did great building in old Persepolis. K y¥ SOHRAB AND RUSTUM. HI Drppf, from the Osus. S oon a hum arose, As of a great assembly loosed, and fires 870 Began to twinkle through the fog; for now '»' Both armies moved to camp, and took their meal; ' The Persians took it on the open sands j Southward, the Tartars by the river marge; And Rustum and his son were left alone. 875 But the majestic river floated on," Out of the mist and hum o! that low land, Into the frosty starlight, and tlie^mioved, Rejoicing, through the hushed Cliorasmian waste, Under the solitary moon; — he flowed 880 Right for the polar star, past Orgunje, Brimming, and bright, and large; then sands begin To hem his watery march, and dam his streams, And split his currents; that for many a league The shorn and parceled Oxus strains _ along 885 Through beds of sand and matted rushy isles — O aus, forgetting the bri ght speed h ejiad In his high mountain cradle in Pamere, A foiled circuitous wanderer — till at last The longed-for dash of waves is heard, and wide 890 His luminous home of waters opens, bright And tranquil, from whose floor the new-bathed stars Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea. i Everybody else went about his ordi- tragedy of the poem, the mind needs some nary affairs. assurance of peace. This mood is felt and 2 These last few lines are very beautiful, answered in these lines, which end with such After the struggling battle and human tranquil calmness. HOKATIUS. A LAY MADE ABOUT THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCLX. I. Lars Porsena of Clusium 1 By the Nine Gods a he swore That the great house of Tarquin 1 Should suffer wrong no more. 5 By the Nine Gods 5 he swore it, And named a trysting day, 3 And bade his messengers ride forth, East and west and south aud north, To summon his array. ii. 10 East and west and south and north The messengers ride fast, And tower and town and cottage Have heard the trumpet's blast. Shame on the false Etruscan 15 Who lingers in his home, When Porsena of Clusium Is on the march for Home! 1 Lars Porsena (Lars was an Etruscan title belonged to the twelve cities. The other meaning King) was ruler of the town of cities mentioned, as Populonia (1. 30), were Clusium, the head of the Etruscan confed- not members of the confederacy, but joined eracy of twelve cities (cf. 1. 177). To him in the expedition. We shall not, as a rule, Tarquinius Supcrbus (or the Proud), the be particular as to their situation. They are last king of Koine, cast out by the Romans, all cities of Etruria, and may be found in applied for aid. Lars Porsena engaged in a classical atlas. The modern names, of war on his behalf, aided by several of the course, are different. cities of the confederacy. Of the cities ' Not much was known of the Nine Gods mentioned later, Volatemc (1. 20), Cortona of the Etruscan religion. (1. 40), Falerii (1. 319), and Arretium (1- 58) 3 day for meeting. HORATIUS. 118 III. The horsemen and the footmen Are pouring in amain ' 20 From many a stately market-place; From many a fruitful plain; From many a lonely hamlet, 2 Which, hid by beach and pine, Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest 25 Of purple Apennine; IV. From lordly Volaterra?, 3 Where scowls the far-famed hold Piled by the hands of giants For godlike kings of old; 30 From seagirt Populonia, 3 Whose sentinels descry Sardinia's snowy mountain-tops Fringing the southern sky; From the proud mart of Pisae. 4 35 Queen of the western waves. Where ride Massilia's b triremes 8 Heavy with fair-haired slaves; ' From where sweet Clanis 8 wanders Through corn and vines and flowers; 40 From where Cortona lifts to heaven Her diadem of towers. 1 with vigorous hurry. 8 ships with three banks of oars. 2 a small village. * The Gauls, as later the Britons, were 3 See note on 1. 1. fair-haired; the Italians were, as a rule, * Pisa?, on the site of modern Pisa, on dark. the Arnus, near its mouth. 8 Clanis, a river in the territory of Clu- 6 now Marseilles. sium. 8 114 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. VI. Tall are the oaks whose acorns Drop in dark Auser's ' rill; Fat are the stags that champ the boughs 45 Of the Ciminian hill; Beyond all streams Clitumnus Is to the herdsman dear; Best of all pools the fowler loves The great Volsiniau mere. 3 VII. 50 But now no stroke of woodman Is heard by Auser's rill; No hunter tracks the stag's green path Up the Ciminian hill; Unwatched along Clitumnus 55 Grazes the milk-white steer; Unharmed the water fowl may dip In the Volsinian mere. VIII. The harvests of Arretium,' This year, old men shall reap, 60 This year, young boys in Umbro Shall plunge the struggling sheep; And in the vats 4 of Luna, This year, the must & shall foam Round the white feet of laughing girls 65 "Whose sires have marched to Rome. . Anser and Clitumnus were rivers of • the wine-vats into which the grape, . were thrown to be trampled on. Luna was Etruna. , . .. t a lake near Volsinii, one of the twelve noted for its wine. citie8 See note on 1.1. » the new wine. HORATIUS. 115 IX. There be thirty chosen prophets, The wisest of the land, Who alway by Lars Porsena Both morn and evening stand : 70 Evening and morn the Thirty Have turned the verses o'er, Traced from the right ' on linen white By mighty seers of yore. And with one voice the Thirty 75 Have their glad answer given : " Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena; Go forth, beloved of Heaven; Go, and return in glory To Clusium's royal dome; 80 And hang round Nurscia's altars* The golden shields of Eome." / XI. And now hath every city Sent up her tale 3 of men; The foot are fourscore thousand, 85 The horse are thousands ten: Before the gates of Sutrium 4 Is met the great array. A proud man was Lars Porsena Upon the trysting day. 1 The Etruscan writing ran from right to ' required number, left. 4 a town in southern Etruria, convenient * Nurscia, the Etruscan goddess of for- as a starting point for Rome, about thirty tune. miles away. 116 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. XII. 90 For all the Etruscan armies Were ranged beneath his eye, And many a banished Roman, 1 And many a stout ally; And with a mighty following 95 To join the muster came The Tusculan Mamilius, 4 Prince of the Latian name. XIII. But by the yellow 3 Tiber Was tumult and affright: 100 From all the spacious champaign * To Eonie men took their flight. A mile around the city, The throng stopped up the ways; A fearful sight it was to see 105 Through two long nights and days. XIV. For aged folks on crutches, And women great with child, And mothers sobbing over babes That clung to them and smiled, 110 And sick men borne in litters 6 High on the necks of slaves, And troops of sun-burned husbandmen With reaping-hooks and staves,' 1 Romans who had followed their ban- * the open country about Rome, now ished king. called the Campagna. a Tusculum, a powerful city of Latiuin. 6 Litters, and not carriages, were long the Dot far from Rome. Mamilius was the hus- common way of getting about for such as bund of Tarquin's daughter. would not ride or walk. * •' Yellow " is a common epithet for the e For the descriptive power of this Btanza swiftly running Tiber : see 1. 470. and the following, see p. 18. HORATIUS. 117 XV. And droves of mules and asses 115 Laden with skins ' of wine, And endless flocks of goats and sheep, And endless herds of kine, And endless trains of wagons That creaked beneath the weight 120 Of corn-sacks and of household goods, Choked every roaring gate. XVI. Now, from the rock Tarpeian,* Could the wan 3 burghers 4 spy The line of blazing villages 125 Eed in the midnight sky. The Fathers 5 of the City/ They sat all night and day, For every hour some horseman came With tidings of dismay. XVII. 130 To eastward and to westward Have spread the Tuscan bands; Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote In Crustumerium 6 stands. Verbenna 7 down to Ostia 8 135 Hath wasted all the plain ; Astur 9 hath stormed Janiculum, 10 And the stout guards are slain. 1 Skins were the ancient bottles and hogs- Patres Conscripti, or Conscript Fathers, heads. « a city of Latium, not far from Rome. 2 The Tarpeian rock on the Capitoline 7 See 1. 191. Hill. s the port of Rome. * pale from fatigue. » See 1. 350. * citizens. io a suburb of Rome, on the other side of 6 The members of the Senate were called the Tiber. 118 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. XVIII. I wis, 1 in all the Senate, There was no heart so bold, 140 But sore it ached and fast it beat, When that ill news was told. Forthwith up rose the Consul/ Up rose the Fathers all; In haste they girded up their gowns/ 145 And hied * them to the wall. XIX. They held a council standing Before the River-Gate; Short time was there, ye well may guess, For musing or debate. 150 Out spake the Consul roundly: 6 " The bridge must straight go down; For, since Janiculum is lost, Nought else can save the town." xx. Just then a scout came flying, 155 All wild with haste and fear; " To arms! to arms! Sir Consul: Lars Porsena is here! " On the low hills to westward The Consul fixed his eye, 100 And saw the swarthy storm of dust Rise fast along the sky. 1 The form should be Twis : the word 3 The Roman toga was a loose, flowing means "assuredly." Macaulay uses it as garment, which had to be girt up or laid though the /were the personal pronoun. aside for any rapid work. 8 Two Consuls were tin- chief executive ' hastened. officers of the Roman republic. 6 plainly, without mincing matters. HOKATIUS. 119 XXI. And nearer fast and nearer Doth the red whirlwind come; And louder still and still more loud, 165 From underneath that rolling clond, Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud, The trampling, and the hum. And plainly and more plainly Now through the gloom appears, 170 Far to left and far to right, In broken gleams of dark-blue light, The long array of helmets bright, The long array of spears. XXII. And plainly and more plainly, 175 Above that glimmering line, Now might ve see the banners Of twelve fair cities shine; ' But the banner of proud Clusium Was highest of them all, 180 The terror of the Umbrian, The terror of the Gaul. XXIII. And plainly and more plainly Now might the burghers know, By port and vest, 2 by horse and crest, 185 Each warlike Lucumo. 3 There Cilnius of Arretium On his fleet roan was seen; And Astur of the four-fold shield, Girt with the brand none else may wield, 1 See note to 1. 1. 3 The chief of an Etruscan city was 60 2 by their bearing and garments. called by the Romans. 120 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 190 Tolumnius with the belt of gold, And dark Verbenna from the hold By reedy Thrasymeue. 1 XXIV. Fast by the royal standard, O'erlooking all the war, 195 Lars Porsena of Clusium Sat in his ivory car. By the right wheel rode Mamilins, Prince of the Latian name; And by the left false Sextus, 2 200 That wrought the deed of shame. XXV. But when the face of Sextus Was seen among the foes, A yell that rent the firmament From all the town arose. 205 On the house-tops was no woman But spat towards him and hissed, No child but screamed out curses, And shook its little fist. XXVI. But the Consul's brow was sad, 210 And the Consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe. " Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; 215 And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town ? " 1 the largest lake iD Etruria ; it was com- 2 Sextos Tarqniniue, the nephew of the paratively shallow. king. HORATIUS. 121 XXYIT. Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: " To every man upon this earth 220 Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds.. For the ashes of his fathers, And the temjiles of his gods, XXVIII. 225 " And for the tender mother AVho dandled him to rest, And for the wife who nurses His baby at her breast, And for the holy maidens 230 Who feed the eternal flame, 1 To save them from false Sextus That wrought the deed of shame ? XXIX. " Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; 235 I, with two more to help me, Will hold the foe in play. 2 In yon strait 3 path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Now who will stand on either hand, 240 And keep the bridge with me?" 1 the virgin priestesses in the temple of » will keep them occupied. Vesta, where the fire burned forever. s narrow. 122 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. XXX. Then out spake Spurius Lartins; A Ramnian ' proud was he: " Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, And keep the bridge with thee." 245 And out spake strong Herminius; Of Titian ' blood was he : " I will abide on thy left side, And keep the bridge with thee." XXXI. "Horatius," quoth the Consul, 250 " As thou sayest, so let it be." And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless Three. For Romans in Rome's quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, 255 Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, In the brave davs of old. XXXII. Then none was for a party; * Then all were for the state; Then the great man helped the poor, 260 And the poor man loved the great : Then lands were fairly portioned; Then spoils were fairly sold : The Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old. 1 The Roman nobles were divided into Romans in later times. The singer was a three tribes— the Ramnes, the Tities, the plebeian, and wrote in times of public dis- I.nreres. cord. This stanza and the next give us his 2 It must be remembered that the poem own thoughts on his own times, when the Is supposed to be a ballad sung by the ancient harmony was much broken. HORATIUS. 123 XXXIII. 265 Now Roman is to Roman More hateful than a foe; And the Tribunes ' beard the high, And the Fathers 2 grind the low. As we wax hot in faction, 270 In battle we wax cold :' Wherefore men fight not as they fought In the brave days of old. xxxiv. Now while the Three were tightening Their harness 3 on their backs, 275 The Consul was the foremost man To take in hand an axe: And Fathers mixed with Commons Seized hatchet, bar, and crow, And smote upon the planks above, 280 And loosed the props below. XXXV. Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, Came flashing back the noonday light, Rank behind rank, like surges bright 285 Of a broad sea of gold. Four hundred trumpets sounded A peal of warlike glee, As that great host, with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, 290 Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three. 1 The Tribunes of the People were officers a The Senators or Patricians, chosen to assure the plebeians their rights. * armor. 12-i POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. XXXVI. The Three stood calm and silent, And looked upon the foes, And a great shout of laughter 295 From all the vanguard rose : And forth three chiefs came spurring Before that deep array; To earth they sprang, their swords they drew, And lifted high their shields, and flew 300 To win the narrow way; XXXVII. Aunus from green Tifernum, Lord of the Hill of Vines; And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves Sicken in Ilva's ' mines; 305 And Picus, long to Clusium Vassal in peace and war, Who led to fight his Umbrian powers From that gray crag where, girt with towers, The fortress of Nequinum lowers 310 O'er the pale waves of Nar." XXXVIII. Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus Into the stream beneath : Herminius struck at Seius, And clove him to the teeth: 315 At Picus brave Horatius Darted one fiery thrust; And the proud Umbrian 's gilded arms Clashed in the bloody dust. 1 the island of Elba. the sulphuretted character of its waters, * a tributary of the Tiber, noteworthy for which were whitish in color. HORATIUS. 125 XXXIX. Then Ocnus of Falerii l 320 Rushed on the Roman Three; And Lausulus of Urgo, The rover of the sea; And Aruns of Volsinium, 1 Who slew the great wild boar, 325 The great wild boar that had his den Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen, And wasted fields, and slaughtered men, Along Albinia's shore. XL. Herminius smote clown Aruns: 330 Lartius laid Ocnus low : Right to the heart of Lausulus Horatius sent a blow. " Lie there," he cried, " fell pirate! No more, aghast and pale, 335 From Ostia's 2 walls the crowd shall mark The track of thy destroying bark. No more Campania's 3 hinds shall fly To woods and caverns when they spy Thy thrice-accursed sail." XLI. 340 But now no sound of laughter Was heard among the foes. A wild and wrathful clamor From all the vanguard rose. Six spears' lengths from the entrance 345 Halted that deep array, And for a space no man came forth To win the narrow way. •Falerii and Volsinii were two of the 2 See note on 1. 134. twelve cities. 3 a province of Italy, to the south of Rome. 126 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. XLII. But hark ! the cry is Astur : And lo! the ranks divide; 350 And the great Lord of Luna Comes with his stately stride. Upon his ample shoulders Clangs loud the fourfold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand 355 Which none but he cau wield. XLIII. He smiled on those bold Romans A smile serene and high; He eyed the flinching Tuscans, And scorn was in his eye. 360 Quoth he, " The she-wolf's litter 1 Stand savagely at bay : But will ye dare to follow, If Astur clears the way ? " XLIV. Then, whirling up his broadsword 365 With both hands to the height, He rushed against Horatius, And smote with all his might. With shield and blade Horatius Right deftly 2 turned the blow. 370 The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh; It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh : The Tuscans raised a joyful cry To see the red blood flow. ' Romulus and Remus, the founders of ing to the legend, and suckled hy a she- Rome, had been exposed at birth, accord- wolf. cleverly and neatly. HORATIUS. 127 XLV He reeled, arid on Herminius 375 He leaned one breathing-space; Then, like a wild-cat mad with wounds, Sprang right at Astur's face. Through teeth, and skull, and helmet So fierce a thrust he sped, 380 The good sword stood a hand-breadth out Behind the Tuscan's head. XLVI. And the great Lord of Luna Fell at that deadly stroke, As falls on Mount Alvernus ' 385 A thunder-smitten oak. Far o'er the crashing forest The giant arms lie spread; And the pale augurs, 3 muttering low, Gaze on the blasted head. XLVII. 390 On Astur's throat Horatius Right firmly pressed his heel, And thrice and four times tugged amain, Ere he wrenched out the steel. "And see," he cried, " the welcome, 395 Fair guests, that waits you here ! What noble Lucumo comes next To taste our Roman cheer ? " 3 the watershed in which the Tiber rises. a priests who divined the future. 3 good fare. 128 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. XLVIII. But at his haughty challenge A sullen murmur ran, 400 Mingled of wrath, and shame, and dread. Along that glittering van. 1 There lacked not men of prowess, Nor men of lordly race; For all Etruria's noblest 405 Were round the fatal place. XLIX. But all Etruria's noblest Felt their hearts sink to see On the earth the bloody corpses, In the path the dauntless Three: 410 And, from the ghastly entrance Where those bold Eomans stood, All shrank, like boys who unaware, Banging the woods to start a hare, Come to the mouth of the dark lair 415 Where, growling low, a fierce old bear Lies amidst bones and blood. L. Was none who would be foremost To lead such dire attack : But those behind cried " Forward ! ' 420 And those before cried " Back! " And backward now and forward Wavers the deep array ; And on the tossing sea of steel, To and fro the standards reel; 425 And the victorious trumpet-peal Dies fitfully away. ' the advance guard of the army. HORATIUS. LI. Yet one man for one moment Stood out before the crowd; Well known was he to all the Three, 430 And they gave him greeting loud, "Now welcome, welcome, Sextus! Now welcome to thy home ! Why dost thou stay, and turn away ? Here lies the road to Rome." LII. 435 Thrice looked he at the city; Thrice looked he at the dead; And thrice came on in fury, And thrice turned back in dread : And, white with fear and hatred, 440 Scowled at the narrow way Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, The bravest Tuscans lay. LIII. But meanwhile axe and lever Have manfully been plied ; 445 And now the bridge hangs tottering Above the boiling tide. " Come back, come back, Horatius! " Loud cried the Fathers all. "Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! 450 Back, ere the ruin fall! " LIV. Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back: And, as they passed, beneath their feet They felt the timbers crack. 9 130 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 455 But when they turned their faces, And on the farther shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, They would have crossed once more. LV. But with a crash like thunder 400 Fell every loosened beam, And, like a dam, the mighty wreck Lay right athwart the stream. And a long shout of triumph Rose from the Avails of Rome, 465 As to the highest turret-tops Was splashed the yellow foam. LVI. And, like a horse unbroken When first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard, 470 And tossed his tawny ' mane, And burst the curb, and bounded, Rejoicing to be free, And whirling down in fierce career, Battlement, and plank, and pier, 4T5 Rushed headlong to the sea. LVII. Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant 5 still in mind; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, And the broad flood behind. 480 " Down with him! " cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face. " Now yield thee, 1 ' cried Lars Porsena, " Now yield thee to our grace." i See 1. 98. itrm HORATIUS. 131 LVIII. Round turned he, as not deigning 485 Those craven 1 ranks to see; Nought spake he to Lars Porsena, To Sextus nought spake he; But he saw on Palatinus 2 The white porch of his home; 490 And he spake to the noble river That rolls by the towers of Rome. LIX. "0 Tiber! father Tiber ! 3 To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, 495 Take thou in charge this day! " So he spake, and speaking sheathed The good sword by his side, And with his harness on his back, Plunged headlong in the tide. LX. 500 No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; 505 And when above the surges They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer. 1 cowardly, for having been stopped so 3 He thinks of the river as a protecting long by so few. god ; so in 1. 524. To the Romans it was a The Palatine is one of the Seven Hills Father Tiber because it had protected Rom- of Rome. ulns and Remus when exposed on its waters. 132 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. LXI. 510 But fiercely ran the current, Swollen high by months of rain: And fast his blood was flowing; And he was sore in pain, And heavy with his armor, 515 And spent ' with changing blows: And oft they thought him sinking, But still again he rose. LXII. Never, I ween, 2 did swimmer, In such an evil case, 520 Struggle through such a raging flood Safe to the landing-place: But his limbs were borne up bravely By the brave heart within, And our good father Tiber 3 525 Bare bravely up his chin. LXIII. " Curse on him! " quoth false Sextus; " Will not the villain drown? But for this stay, ere close of day We should have sacked * the town! " 530 " Heaven help him! " quoth Lars Porsena/ " And bring him safe to shore; For such a gallant feat of arms Was never seen before." > wearied out, his strength gone. 6 The difference between the coward and s I think. the high-minded enemy is well brought out ' See 1. 492. * pillaged. in these two speeches. HORATIUS. 133 LXIY. And now he feels the bottom ; 535 Now on dry earth he stands; Now round him throng the Fathers To press his gory hands; And now, with shouts and clapping, And noise of weeping loud, 540 He enters through the River-Gate, Borne by the joyous crowd. LXT. They gave him of the corn-land, That was of public right, As much as two strong oxen 545 Could plow from morn till night; And they made a molten image, And set it up on high, And there it stands unto this day To witness if I lie. LXYI. 550 It stands in the Comitium, Plain for all folk to see; Horatius in his harness, Halting upon one knee : And underneath is written, 555 In letters all of gold, How valiantly he kept the bridge In the brave days of old. a that part of the Forum used for the assembly of the thirty Curise. 134 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. LXVII. And still his name sounds stirring Unto the men of Rome, 560 As the trumpet-blast that cries to them To charge the Volscian 1 home; And wives still pray to Juno 2 For boys with hearts as bold As his who kept the bridge so well 565 In the brave days of old. LXVIII. And in the nights of winter, When the cold north winds blow, And the long howling of the wolves Is heard amidst the snow; 570 When round the lonely cottage Roars loud the tempest's din, And the good logs of Algidus 3 Roar louder yet within ; LXIX. When the oldest cask is opened, 575 And the largest lamp is lit; When the chestnuts glow in the embers, And the kid turns on the spit; When young and old in circle Around the firebrands close; 580 When the girls are weaving baskets, And the lads are shaping bows; i The Volsci were a people of central 2 Ihi- goddess of marriage. Italy, with whom the Romans in their early 3 one of the Alban Hills, not far from days were often at wai\ Rome. HORATIUS. 135 LXX. When the goodman mends his armor, And trims his helmet's plume; When the good wife's shuttle merrily 585 Goes flashing through the loom; With weeping and with laughter Still is the story told, How well Horatius kept the bridge In the brave days of old. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. Note by the Author. — According to the mythology of the Romartcers, the San Greal, or Holy Grail, was the cup out of which Jesus partook of the last supper with his disciples. It was brought into England by Joseph of Arimathea, and remained there, an object of pilgrimage and adoration, for many years in the keeping of his lineal descendants. It was incumbent upon those who had charge of it to be chaste in thought, word, and deed; but one of the keepers having broken this condition, the Holy Grail disappeared. From that time it was a favorite enterprise of the knights of Arthur's court to go in search of it. Sir Galahad was at last successful in finding it, as may be read in the seventeenth book of the Romance of King Arthur. Tennyson has made Sir Galahad the sub- ject of one of the most exquisite of his poems. The plot (if I may give that name to any thing so slight) of the follow- ing poem is my own, and, to serve its purposes, I have enlarged the circle of competition in search of the mu-aculous cup in such a manner as to include, not only other persons than the heroes of the Round Table, but also a period of time subsecpient to the date of King Arthur's reigu. Prelude to Part First. Over his keys the musing organist, Beginning doubtfully and far away, First lets his fingers wander as they Jistj And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay: s 5 Then, as the touch of his loved instrument Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws 8 his theme, First guessed by faint auroral 3 flushes sent Along the wavering vistajof his dream. Not only around our infancy 10 Doth heaven with all its splendors lie: 4 1 song, poem. ' like the Aurora Borealis, or Northern • At first the idea was vague and hulis- Lights. tinet, like a dream. As he goes on, the poet 4 This refers to the line in Wordsworth's brings it into fuller shape and more definite Ode on the Intimations of Immortality : outline. " Heaven lies about us in our infancy ! " (ft THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. 137 Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, We Sinais ' climb and know it not; Over our manhood bend the skies; Against our fallen and traitor lives 15 The great winds utter prophecies; 2 With our faint hearts the mountain strives; Its arms outstretched, the druid 3 wood Waits with its benedicite,* And to our age's drowsy blood 20 Still shouts the inspiring sea. ? Earth 5 gets its price for what Earth gives us; The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in, The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us; We bargain for the graves we lie in ; 25 At the Devil's booth are all things sold, * Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold; For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we earn with a whole soul's tasking; 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, fl| 30 'Tis only God may be had for the asking; There is no price set on the lavish summer, And June may be had by the poorest comer. And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days; 35 Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm .ear lays : 1 Moses ascended Mount Sinai to be with M blessing. God. Lowell me:.'iis that we may be and 5 Earthly things (of no real value) we are with God everyday without knowiM' it. must pay fur; heavenly things (1. 30) we -he strong powers of nature are^pjn- might have for nothing, had we sense s ^ reproach to our weak sinfulness.* » enough to know it. the Druids, priests of ancient Gairl|4d 8 The word sold should have the empha- jiain, worshipped in the great oak groves, sis, as contrasted with asking (1. 30). 138 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Whether we look, or whether Ave listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, 40 An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul for grass and flowers; The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys; 45 The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, 1 And there's never a leaf or a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace; The little bird sits at his door in the sun, 50 Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; 55 He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest." In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best ? Now is the high-tide of the year, ' And whatever of life hath ebbed away Comes flooding back, with a ripply cheer, 60 Into every bare inlet and creek and bay; Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, We are happy now because God so wills it; No matter how barren the past may have been, 'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green; 65 We sit in the warm shade and feel right well How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell; We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing That skies are clear and grass is growing; 1 cup. bird : still, it may have its own <'x Golden spurs were the symbol of knight- * The " Vision " really begins with 1. 109 hood. When a knight disgraced himself and ends at 1. 887. What has gone before his golden spurs were hacked off his heels has been introductory, by the cook's cleaver. * See 1. 181. 5 northern England presumably ; the form 3 The floors in old times were strewn witli of the word is common in older English, rushes. and esi>ecially in ballad-poetry. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. 141 Summer besieged it on every side, 120 But the churlish ' stone her assaults defied; She could not scale the chill} 7 wall, Though round it for leagues her pavilions 2 tall Stretched left and right, Over the hills and out of sight; 125 Green and broad was every tent, And out of each a murmur went Till the breeze fell off at night. in. The drawbridge dropped with a surly clang, And through the dark arch 3 a charger sprang, 130 Bearing Sir Launfal, the maiden 4 knight, In his gilded mail, that flamed so bright It seemed the dark castle had gathered all Those shafts the fierce sun had shot over its wall In his siege 6 of three hundred summers long, 135 And, binding them all in one blazing sheaf, 6 Had cast them forth ; so, young and strong, And lightsome as a locust leaf, Sir Launfal flashed forth in his unscarred 7 mail, To seek in all climes for the Holy Grail. 8 IV. 140 It was morning on hill and stream and tree, And morning in the young knight's heart; Only the castle moodily Rebuffed the gifts of the sunshine free, And gloomed by itself apart; 1 rude, like a churl or rude, ill-mannered B See 11. 119-127. fellow. 6 eheaf, or quiver of arrows. 3 Summer i6 represented as an army en- 7 See 1. 130. camped in tents ; so in 1. 125. 8 See the introductory Note by the Atr- 3 of the castle gateway. thor, and 11. 253, 293, 315, 353. One of the 4 He has as yet done no service ; his armor Idylls of the King tells how the Round was unscarred by battle (1. 138). Table sought the Holy Grail. 142 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. 145 The season brimmed all other things up Full as the rain fills the pitcher-plant's cup. As Sir Launfal made morn ' through the darksome gate, He was 'ware of a leper 2 crouched by the same, Who begged with his hand and moaned as he sate; 150 And a loathing over Sir Launfal came; The sunshine went out of his soul with a thrill, The flesh 'neath his armor did shrink and crawl, And midway 3 its leap his heart stood still Like a frozen waterfall; 155 For this man, so foul and bent of stature, Rasped harshly against his dainty nature, And seemed the one blot on the summer morn,* — So he tossed him a piece of gold in scorn. VI. The leper raised not the gold from the dust: 1G0 " Better to me the poor man's crust, Better the blessing of the poor, Though I turn me empty from his door; That is no true alms which the hand can hold; 5 He gives nothing but worthless gold 1G5 W T ho gives from a sense of duty; But he who gives a slender mite, And gives to that which is out of sight, That thread of the all-sustaining Beauty Which runs through all and doth all unite, — » with his golden armor. 4 Sir Launfal, enjoying the glad beauty > The hideous disease of leprosy was com- of spring, was shocked and pained at the iiioii in the Middle Ages. hideous sight, and tried to get rid of it as ' in the midst of. quickly as possible. 6 See 1. 170. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. 143 170 The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms, The heart outstretches its eager palms, For a god goes with it and makes it store To the soul that was starving in darkness before." Prelude to Part Second. Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, 175 From the snow five thousand summers ' old; On open wold 2 and hill-top bleak It had gathered all the cold, And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek; It carried a shiver everywhere 180 From the unleafed boughs aVd pastures bare; The little brook heard it and built a roof 'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof; All night by the white stars' frosty gleams He groined 3 his arches and matched his beams; 185 Slender aud clear were his crystal spars As the lashes of light that trim the stars; He sculptured every summer delight In his halls and chambers out of sight; Sometimes his tinkling waters slipt 190 Down through a frost-leaved forest-crypt, 4 Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees Bending to counterfeit a breeze; Sometimes the roof no fretwork knew But silvery mosses that downward grew; 5 195 Sometimes it was carved in sharp relief With quaint arabesques 6 of ice-fern leaf; 1 The enow never melted, even in the * crypt because it was down underneath, hottest summer. as if in the cellar ; forest because the ice " open field-like country. froze in form of trees. U "groin" is made by four arching 6 like stalactites, sides coming together. 6 intricate and complicated patterns. 144 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. Sometimes it was simply smooth and clear For the gladness of heaven to shine through, and here He had caught the nodding bulrush-tops 200 And hung them thickly with diamond drops, Which crystalled the beams of moon and sun, And made a star of every one: No mortal builder's most rare device Could match this winter-palace of ice; 205 'Twas as if every image that mirrored lay In his depths serene through the summer day, Each flitting shadow of earth and sky, Lest the happy model should be lost, Had been mimicked in fairy masonry 210 By the elfin builders of the frost. 1 Within the hall are song and laughter, The cheeks of Christmas glow red and jolly, And sprouting is every corbel 5 and rafter With the lightsome green of ivy and holly; 215 Through the deep gulf of the chimney wide Wallows the Yule-log's 3 roaring tide; 4 The broad flame-pennons droop and flap And belly and tug as a flag in the wind; Like a locust shrills the imprisoned sap, 6 220 Hunted to death in its galleries blind; And swift little troops of silent sparks, Now pausing, now scattering away as in fear, Go threading the soot-forest's tangled darks Like herds of startled deer. 1 This charming passage is delightful in s The "Yule-log" is the great log brought itself, but can hardly be said to have any in on Christmas eve. especial connection with the rest of the 4 The roaring flame is compared to the poem. Lowell wrote it because he liked to. tide setting into the deep gulf (of the chim- ' Corbel is the architectural term for the ney). end of a rafter. * in the logs. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. 145 i 225 But the wind without was eager 1 and sharp, Of Sir LaunfaFs gray 2 hair it makes a harp, And rattles and wrings The icy strings, Singing, in dreary monotone, 230 A Christmas carol of its own, Whose burden still, as he might guess, Was — "Shelterless, shelterless, shelterless!" The voice of the seneschal flared like a torch As he shouted the wanderer away from the porch, 3 235 And he sat down in the gateway and saw all night The great hall-fire, so cheery and bold, Through the window-slits of the castle old, Build out its piers of ruddy light 4 Against the drift of the cold. Part Second. 240 There was never a leaf on bush or tree, The bare boughs rattled shudderingly; The river, was dumb and could not speak, For the frost's swift shuttles its shroud had spun; ' A single crow on the tree-top bleak 245 From his shining feathers shed off the cold sun; Again it was morning, but shrunk and cold, As if her veins were sapless and old, And she rose up decrepitly For a last dim look at earth and sea. 1 Eager originally meant much the same 4 Try to realize this figure— the light from as sharp. So in the word vinegar. the narrow window shining into the thick a Thus Lowell gives us the idea that after darkness— and you will see how excellent long years Sir Launfal has come back. As it is. is soon seen, he has long been given up for 5 The ice on the brook is now compared lost and wholly forgotten. Seel. 251. to its shroud, as though it were not only 8 See 1. 250. dumb, but dead. 10 146 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. II. 250 Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate, For another heir in his earldom sate; ' An old, bent man, worn out and frail. He came back from seeking the Holy Grail ; Little he recked of his earldom's loss, 255 No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross, But deep in his soul the sign he wore, The badge of the suffering and the poor. in. Sir Launfal's raiment thin and spar Was idle mail 'gainst the barbed air, 260 For it was just at the Christmas-time; So he mused, as he sat, of a sunnier clime. And sought for a shelter from cold and snow In the light and warmth of long ago; 2 He sees the snake-like caravan crawl 3 265 O'er the edge of the desert, black and small, Then nearer and nearer, till, one by one, He can count the camels in the sun, As over the red-hot sands they pass To where, in its slender necklace of grass, 270 The little spring laughed and leapt in the shade. And with its own self like an infant played, And waved its signal of palms. IV. " For Christ's sweet sake, I beg an 4 alms; " The happy camels may reach the spring, 275 But Sir Launfal sees naught save the grewsome thing, 1 He had been so long away that he had 3 nis thoughts went back to the Holy been given up as dead. Land. • "O, wlio can hold a fire in his hand * The word alms is really singular, in Hy thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? " gp j( e f t^c s — RiciiAiti) II., i, 8, 894. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. 14i The leper, lank as the rain-blanched bone, That cowered beside him, a thing as lone And white as the ice-isles of Northern seas l In the desolate horror of his disease. 280 And Sir Lannfal said, — " I behold in thee An image of Him who died on the tree; a Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns, — Thou also hast had the world's buffets and scorns, — And to thy life were not denied 285 The wounds in the hands and feet and side; Mild Mary's Son, acknowledge 3 me; Behold, through him, I give to thee! " VI. Then the soul of the leper stood up in his eyes And looked at Sir Lannfal, and straightway he 290 Remembered in what a haughtier guise He had flung an alms to leprosie, When he caged 4 his young life up in gilded mail And set forth in search of the Holy Grail, The heart within him was ashes and dust; 295 He parted in twain his single crust, He broke the ice on the streamlet's brink, And gave the leper to eat and drink; 'Twas a moldy crust of coarse brown bread, 'Twas water out of a wooden bowl, — 300 Yet with fine wheaten bread was the leper fed. And 'twas red wine he drank with his thirsty soul. 1 One sign of leprosy was a horrible pale- also before my Father which is in heaven.*' ness. —Matt. x. 32. 2 the cross. 4 gave himself no opportunity to do as his ' " Whosoever therefore shall acknowl- best impulses might urge him, but tried to edge me before men, him will I acknowledge do some deed of splendid devotion. 148 POEMS OF KNIGHTLY ADVENTURE. ' VII. As Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face, A light shone round about the place; The leper no longer crouched at his side, 305 But stood before him glorified, Shining and tall and fair and straight As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate, 1 - Himself the Gate 2 whereby men can Enter the temple of God in Man." VIII. 310 His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine, And they fell on Sir Launfal as snows on the brine, 4 Which mingle their softness and quiet in one With the shaggy unrest they float down upon ; And the voice that was calmer than silence said, w 315 ^o, it is I, be not afraid! In many climes, without avail, Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail; Behold it is here, — this cup which thou Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now; 320 This crust is my body broken for thee, This water His blood that died on the tree; The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need, — Not that which we give, but what we share, — 325 | For the gift without the giver is bare; Who bestows himself with his alms feeds three,— Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me." > See Acts iii. 2. J See 1 Cor. iii. 16, 17. » See John s. 7. * as enow falling into the sea. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. 149 IX. Sir Launfal awoke, 1 as from a swound: — ' ; The Grail in my castle here is found! 330 Hang my idle armor up on the wall, Let it be the spider's banquet-hall; He must be fenced with stronger mail Who would seek and find the Holy Grail." x. The castle-gate stands open now,' 335 And the wanderer is welcome to the hall As the hangbird is to the elm-tree bough ; No longer scowl the turrets tall, The Summer's long siege at last is o'er; 3 When the first poor outcast went in at the door, 340 She entered with him in disguise, And mastered the fortress by surprise; There is no spot she loves so well on ground, She lingers and smiles there the whole year round; The meanest serf on Sir Launfal' s land 345 Has hall and bower 4 at his command ; And there's no poor man in the North Countree But is lord of the earldom as much as he. 1 The story goes back to Sir Launfal on 3 See 1. 119. the rushes (1. 108). * The word was commonly enough used a not as in the " Vision " (1. 117). in the ballads for chambers. S132 5 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 'Hiis bool- ; ' T ->n the last date AA 000 297148 9 Pt -EA*z DQ N THic « REMOVE TH 'S BOOK CARD ? Un ^sity Research L/'bro ry