Then answered Lancelot,the chief of knights:
'And with what face,after my pretext made,Shall I appear,O Queen,at Camelot,IBefore a King who honours his own word,As if it were his God's?'
'Yea,'said the Queen,'A moral child without the craft to rule,Else had he not lost me:but listen to me,If I must find you wit:we hear it said That men go down before your spear at a touch,But knowing you are Lancelot;your great name,This conquers:hide it therefore;go unknown:
Win!by this kiss you will:and our true King Will then allow your pretext,O my knight,As all for glory;for to speak him true,Ye know right well,how meek soe'er he seem,No keener hunter after glory breathes.
He loves it in his knights more than himself:
They prove to him his work:win and return.'
Then got Sir Lancelot suddenly to horse,Wroth at himself.Not willing to be known,He left the barren-beaten thoroughfare,Chose the green path that showed the rarer foot,And there among the solitary downs,Full often lost in fancy,lost his way;Till as he traced a faintly-shadowed track,That all in loops and links among the dales Ran to the Castle of Astolat,he saw Fired from the west,far on a hill,the towers.
Thither he made,and blew the gateway horn.
Then came an old,dumb,myriad-wrinkled man,Who let him into lodging and disarmed.
And Lancelot marvelled at the wordless man;
And issuing found the Lord of Astolat With two strong sons,Sir Torre and Sir Lavaine,Moving to meet him in the castle court;And close behind them stept the lily maid Elaine,his daughter:mother of the house There was not:some light jest among them rose With laughter dying down as the great knight Approached them:then the Lord of Astolat:
'Whence comes thou,my guest,and by what name Livest thou between the lips?for by thy state And presence I might guess thee chief of those,After the King,who eat in Arthur's halls.
Him have I seen:the rest,his Table Round,Known as they are,to me they are unknown.'
Then answered Sir Lancelot,the chief of knights:
'Known am I,and of Arthur's hall,and known,What I by mere mischance have brought,my shield.
But since I go to joust as one unknown At Camelot for the diamond,ask me not,Hereafter ye shall know me--and the shield--I pray you lend me one,if such you have,Blank,or at least with some device not mine.'
Then said the Lord of Astolat,'Here is Torre's:
Hurt in his first tilt was my son,Sir Torre.
And so,God wot,his shield is blank enough.
His ye can have.'Then added plain Sir Torre,'Yea,since I cannot use it,ye may have it.'
Here laughed the father saying,'Fie,Sir Churl,Is that answer for a noble knight?
Allow him!but Lavaine,my younger here,He is so full of lustihood,he will ride,Joust for it,and win,and bring it in an hour,And set it in this damsel's golden hair,To make her thrice as wilful as before.'
'Nay,father,nay good father,shame me not Before this noble knight,'said young Lavaine,'For nothing.Surely I but played on Torre:
He seemed so sullen,vext he could not go:
A jest,no more!for,knight,the maiden dreamt That some one put this diamond in her hand,And that it was too slippery to be held,And slipt and fell into some pool or stream,The castle-well,belike;and then I said That if I went and if I fought and won it (But all was jest and joke among ourselves)Then must she keep it safelier.All was jest.
But,father,give me leave,an if he will,To ride to Camelot with this noble knight:
Win shall I not,but do my best to win:
Young as I am,yet would I do my best.'
'So will ye grace me,'answered Lancelot,Smiling a moment,'with your fellowship O'er these waste downs whereon I lost myself,Then were I glad of you as guide and friend:
And you shall win this diamond,--as I hear It is a fair large diamond,--if ye may,And yield it to this maiden,if ye will.'
'A fair large diamond,'added plain Sir Torre,'Such be for queens,and not for simple maids.'
Then she,who held her eyes upon the ground,Elaine,and heard her name so tost about,Flushed slightly at the slight disparagement Before the stranger knight,who,looking at her,Full courtly,yet not falsely,thus returned:
'If what is fair be but for what is fair,And only queens are to be counted so,Rash were my judgment then,who deem this maid Might wear as fair a jewel as is on earth,Not violating the bond of like to like.'
He spoke and ceased:the lily maid Elaine,Won by the mellow voice before she looked,Lifted her eyes,and read his lineaments.
The great and guilty love he bare the Queen,In battle with the love he bare his lord,Had marred his face,and marked it ere his time.
Another sinning on such heights with one,The flower of all the west and all the world,Had been the sleeker for it:but in him His mood was often like a fiend,and rose And drove him into wastes and solitudes For agony,who was yet a living soul.
Marred as he was,he seemed the goodliest man That ever among ladies ate in hall,And noblest,when she lifted up her eyes.
However marred,of more than twice her years,Seamed with an ancient swordcut on the cheek,And bruised and bronzed,she lifted up her eyes And loved him,with that love which was her doom.
Then the great knight,the darling of the court,Loved of the loveliest,into that rude hall Stept with all grace,and not with half disdain Hid under grace,as in a smaller time,But kindly man moving among his kind:
Whom they with meats and vintage of their best And talk and minstrel melody entertained.
And much they asked of court and Table Round,And ever well and readily answered he:
But Lancelot,when they glanced at Guinevere,Suddenly speaking of the wordless man,Heard from the Baron that,ten years before,The heathen caught and reft him of his tongue.
'He learnt and warned me of their fierce design Against my house,and him they caught and maimed;But I,my sons,and little daughter fled From bonds or death,and dwelt among the woods By the great river in a boatman's hut.
Dull days were those,till our good Arthur broke The Pagan yet once more on Badon hill.'
