Then o'er it crost the dimness of a cloud
Floating, and once the shadow of a bird
Flying, and then a fawn; and his eyes closed.
And since he loved all maidens, but no maid
In special, half-awake he
whispered, 'Where?
O where? I love thee, though I know thee not.
For fair thou art and pure as Guinevere,
And I will make thee with my spear and sword
As famous--O my Queen, my Guinevere,
For I will be thine Arthur when we meet.'
Suddenly wakened with a sound of talk
And
laughter at the limit of the wood,
And glancing through the hoary boles, he saw,
Strange as to some old
prophet might have seemed
A
vision hovering on a sea of fire,
Damsels in
divers colours like the cloud
Of
sunset and
sunrise, and all of them
On horses, and the horses
richly trapt
Breast-high in that bright line of bracken stood:
And all the
damsels talked confusedly,
And one was pointing this way, and one that,
Because the way was lost.
And Pelleas rose,
And loosed his horse, and led him to the light.
There she that seemed the chief among them said,
'In happy time behold our pilot-star!
Youth, we are
damsels-errant, and we ride,
Armed as ye see, to tilt against the
knights
There at Caerleon, but have lost our way:
To right? to left? straight forward? back again?
Which? tell us quickly.'
Pelleas gazing thought,
'Is Guinevere herself so beautiful?'
For large her
violet eyes looked, and her bloom
A rosy dawn kindled in stainless heavens,
And round her limbs,
mature in womanhood;
And
slender was her hand and small her shape;
And but for those large eyes, the haunts of scorn,
She might have seemed a toy to
trifle with,
And pass and care no more. But while he gazed
The beauty of her flesh abashed the boy,
As though it were the beauty of her soul:
For as the base man, judging of the good,
Puts his own baseness in him by default
Of will and nature, so did Pelleas lend
All the young beauty of his own soul to hers,
Believing her; and when she spake to him,
Stammered, and could not make her a reply.
For out of the waste islands had he come,
Where saving his own sisters he had known
Scarce any but the women of his isles,
Rough wives, that laughed and screamed against the gulls,
Makers of nets, and living from the sea.
Then with a slow smile turned the lady round
And looked upon her people; and as when
A stone is flung into some
sleeping tarn,
The
circle widens till it lip the marge,
Spread the slow smile through all her company.
Three
knights were thereamong; and they too smiled,
Scorning him; for the lady was Ettarre,
And she was a great lady in her land.
Again she said, 'O wild and of the woods,
Knowest thou not the fashion of our speech?
Or have the Heavens but given thee a fair face,
Lacking a tongue?'
'O
damsel,' answered he,
'I woke from dreams; and coming out of gloom
Was dazzled by the sudden light, and crave
Pardon: but will ye to Caerleon? I
Go
likewise: shall I lead you to the King?'
'Lead then,' she said; and through the woods they went.
And while they rode, the meaning in his eyes,
His
tenderness of manner, and
chaste awe,
His broken utterances and bashfulness,
Were all a burthen to her, and in her heart
She muttered, 'I have lighted on a fool,
Raw, yet so stale!' But since her mind was bent
On
hearing, after
trumpet blown, her name
And title, 'Queen of Beauty,' in the lists
Cried--and beholding him so strong, she thought
That peradventure he will fight for me,
And win the
circlet:
therefore flattered him,
Being so
gracious, that he wellnigh deemed
His wish by hers was echoed; and her
knights
And all her
damsels too were
gracious to him,
For she was a great lady.
And when they reached
Caerleon, ere they past to
lodging, she,
Taking his hand, 'O the strong hand,' she said,
'See! look at mine! but wilt thou fight for me,
And win me this fine
circlet, Pelleas,
That I may love thee?'
Then his
helpless heart
Leapt, and he cried, 'Ay! wilt thou if I win?'
'Ay, that will I,' she answered, and she laughed,
And straitly nipt the hand, and flung it from her;
Then glanced askew at those three
knights of hers,
Till all her ladies laughed along with her.
'O happy world,' thought Pelleas, 'all, meseems,
Are happy; I the happiest of them all.'
Nor slept that night for pleasure in his blood,
And green wood-ways, and eyes among the leaves;
Then being on the
morrowknighted, sware
To love one only. And as he came away,
The men who met him rounded on their heels
And wondered after him, because his face
Shone like the
countenance of a
priest of old
Against the flame about a sacrifice
Kindled by fire from heaven: so glad was he.
Then Arthur made vast banquets, and strange
knights
From the four winds came in: and each one sat,
Though served with choice from air, land,
stream, and sea,
Oft in mid-banquet measuring with his eyes
His neighbour's make and might: and Pelleas looked
Noble among the noble, for he dreamed
His lady loved him, and he knew himself
Loved of the King: and him his new-made
knightWorshipt, whose lightest
whisper moved him more
Than all the ranged reasons of the world.
Then blushed and brake the morning of the jousts,
And this was called 'The Tournament of Youth:'
For Arthur,
loving his young
knight, withheld
His older and his mightier from the lists,
That Pelleas might
obtain his lady's love,
According to her promise, and remain
Lord of the tourney. And Arthur had the jousts
Down in the flat field by the shore of Usk
Holden: the gilded parapets were crowned
With faces, and the great tower filled with eyes
Up to the
summit, and the
trumpets blew.
There all day long Sir Pelleas kept the field
With honour: so by that strong hand of his
The sword and golden
circlet were achieved.
Then rang the shout his lady loved: the heat
Of pride and glory fired her face; her eye
Sparkled; she caught the
circlet from his lance,
And there before the people crowned herself:
So for the last time she was
gracious to him.
Then at Caerleon for a space--her look
Bright for all others, cloudier on her
knight--
Lingered Ettarre: and
seeing Pelleas droop,
Said Guinevere, 'We
marvel at thee much,
O
damsel, wearing this unsunny face
To him who won thee glory!' And she said,
'Had ye not held your Lancelot in your bower,
My Queen, he had not won.' Whereat the Queen,
As one whose foot is
bitten by an ant,
Glanced down upon her, turned and went her way.
But after, when her
damsels, and herself,
And those three
knights all set their faces home,
Sir Pelleas followed. She that saw him cried,
'Damsels--and yet I should be shamed to say it--
I cannot bide Sir Baby. Keep him back
Among yourselves. Would rather that we had
Some rough old
knight who knew the
worldly way,
Albeit grizzlier than a bear, to ride
And jest with: take him to you, keep him off,
And pamper him with papmeat, if ye will,
Old milky fables of the wolf and sheep,
Such as the
wholesome mothers tell their boys.
Nay, should ye try him with a merry one
To find his mettle, good: and if he fly us,
Small matter! let him.' This her
damsels heard,
And mindful of her small and cruel hand,
They, closing round him through the journey home,
Acted her hest, and always from her side
Restrained him with all manner of device,
So that he could not come to speech with her.
And when she gained her castle, upsprang the bridge,
Down rang the grate of iron through the groove,
And he was left alone in open field.
'These be the ways of ladies,' Pelleas thought,
'To those who love them, trials of our faith.
Yea, let her prove me to the
uttermost,
For loyal to the
uttermost am I.'
So made his moan; and darkness falling, sought
A priory not far off, there lodged, but rose
With morning every day, and, moist or dry,
Full-armed upon his
charger all day long
Sat by the walls, and no one opened to him.
And this persistence turned her scorn to wrath.
Then
calling her three
knights, she charged them, 'Out!
And drive him from the walls.' And out they came
But Pelleas
overthrew them as they dashed
Against him one by one; and these returned,
But still he kept his watch beneath the wall.
Thereon her wrath became a hate; and once,
A week beyond, while walking on the walls
With her three
knights, she
pointeddownward, 'Look,
He haunts me--I cannot breathe--besieges me;
Down! strike him! put my hate into your strokes,
And drive him from my walls.' And down they went,
And Pelleas
overthrew them one by one;
And from the tower above him cried Ettarre,
'Bind him, and bring him in.'
He heard her voice;
Then let the strong hand, which had overthrown
Her minion-
knights, by those he
overthrewBe bounden straight, and so they brought him in.
Then when he came before Ettarre, the sight
Of her rich beauty made him at one glance