With all good cheer He spake and laughed,then entered with his twain Camelot,a city of shadowy palaces And stately,rich in emblem and the work Of ancient kings who did their days in stone;Which Merlin's hand,the Mage at Arthur's court,Knowing all arts,had touched,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 Clashed;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.
Then into hall Gareth ascending heard A voice,the voice of Arthur,and beheld Far over heads in that long-vaulted hall The splendour of the presence of the King Throned,and delivering doom--and looked no more--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,though all in fear to find Sir Gawain or Sir Modred,saw nor one Nor other,but in all the listening eyes Of those tall knights,that ranged about the throne,Clear honour shining like the dewy star Of dawn,and faith in their great King,with pure Affection,and the light of victory,And glory gained,and evermore to gain.
Then came a widow crying to the King,'A boon,Sir King!Thy father,Uther,reft From my dead lord a field with violence:
For howsoe'er at first he proffered gold,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,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.
Accursed,who from the 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,A knight of Uther in the Barons'war,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 Thralled in his castle,and hath starved him dead;And standeth seized of that inheritance Which thou that slewest the sire hast left the son.
So though I scarce can ask it thee for hate,Grant me some knight to do the battle for me,Kill the foul thief,and wreak me for my son.'
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,and cried,'A boon,Sir King!even that thou grant her none,This railer,that hath mocked thee in full hall--None;or the wholesome boon of gyve and gag.'
But Arthur,'We sit King,to help the wronged Through all our realm.The woman loves her lord.
Peace to thee,woman,with thy loves and hates!
The kings of old had doomed thee to the flames,Aurelius Emrys would have scourged thee dead,And Uther slit thy tongue:but get thee hence--Lest that rough humour of the kings of old Return upon me!Thou that art her kin,Go likewise;lay him low and slay him not,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 Who lived and died for men,the man shall die.'
Then came in hall the messenger of Mark,A name of evil savour in the land,The Cornish king.In either hand he bore What dazzled all,and shone far-off as shines 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,that his lord,the vassal king,Was even upon his way to Camelot;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 honour all the more;So prayed him well to accept this cloth of gold,In token of true heart and fealty.
Then Arthur cried to rend the cloth,to rend In pieces,and so cast it on the hearth.
An oak-tree smouldered there.'The goodly knight!
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 blazoned,some but carven,and some blank,There ran a treble range of stony shields,--Rose,and high-arching overbrowed 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 His arms were blazoned also;but if none,The shield was blank and bare without a sign Saving the name beneath;and Gareth saw The shield of Gawain blazoned rich and bright,And Modred's blank as death;and Arthur cried To rend the cloth and cast it on the hearth.
'More like are we to reave him of his crown Than make him knight because men call him king.
The kings we found,ye know we stayed their hands From war among themselves,but left them kings;Of whom were any bounteous,merciful,Truth-speaking,brave,good livers,them we enrolled Among us,and they sit within our hall.
But as Mark hath tarnished the great name of king,As Mark would sully the low state of churl:
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,Silenced for ever--craven--a man of plots,Craft,poisonous counsels,wayside ambushings--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,And evermore a knight would ride away.
