Launcelot and Guenevere | ||
Scene I.
—Camelot. The gardens. Morgause, Peredure, Lionors, Gawaine, Dagonet, Kaye, and others.Morgause.
The day is dull. Shall we have music?
Kaye.
Ay,
A rousing song!
Lionors.
He's all for tavern catches
Or martial strains of braggadocio.
Dagonet.
It is the finitude of his wit, whereof he has neither enough to be merry without drinking nor to be silent when drunk.
Kaye.
Drunk, varlet?
Dagonet.
If I called it a finer name, you would not follow me.
Lionors.
Nay, for that would be false manners. Would you have the nobleman follow the fool?
Dagonet.
No more than I would have the ass
43
Morgause.
Peredure, is there not a madrigal
Knocking against your heart to be let out?
Our idleness feeds on the empty day
As a chameleon on the air. Come, sing
And give us richer nurture.
Peredure.
As you will.
There is a story written in this book
Of two young lovers in far Italy
And how they dreamed away a summer noon
Upon the Arno. Reading this but now,
I fell a-dreaming, I was in the boat,
And round my neck her wondrous arms were thrown—
And then, I scarce know how, the song was made.
[Sings.]
There is a story written in this book
Of two young lovers in far Italy
And how they dreamed away a summer noon
Upon the Arno. Reading this but now,
I fell a-dreaming, I was in the boat,
And round my neck her wondrous arms were thrown—
And then, I scarce know how, the song was made.
Love me!
I care not for this one brief hour
If blue calm smile or tempest lower
Above me.
I care not though the boat sink now
If only thou
Wilt love me.
Kiss!
Ah sweet, what joy in fame or years
Or yellow gold? Life burns through tears
For this.
Ah, what though God should cast away
The world to-day!
Kiss!
I care not for this one brief hour
If blue calm smile or tempest lower
Above me.
I care not though the boat sink now
If only thou
Wilt love me.
44
Ah sweet, what joy in fame or years
Or yellow gold? Life burns through tears
For this.
Ah, what though God should cast away
The world to-day!
Kiss!
Gawaine.
A silly song! That's not the way to love.
Morgause.
What do you know of love, Gawaine?
Gawaine.
Enough
To know that it is a silly song, my mother.
Morgause.
Are you but sixteen and know love already?
[Enter Publius and Ladinas.]
The age has grown so forward that our children
Will make us grandams ere our heads are gray.—
You join us late, Sir Ladinas.
Ladinas.
Royal Orkney,
The courtesy of Camelot to a guest
45
With weighty missives from the Emperor.
While he awaits the King's return from Cornwall,
He must not sigh for the Campagna.
Morgause.
Welcome.
Will you make one of our too idle party?
We have been merry with inconsequences,
Tossing our empty fancies back and forth
Like shuttlecocks, for wantonness. I fear
You are too serious for these bagatelles.
Publius.
Let me not spoil your entertainment, madam.
So many fair young faces are about me,
Such a spring-burst of beauty and of youth,
I shall grow young myself for sympathy.
Gawaine
[apart to Lionors].
What an old flub! [Aloud.]
Now, madam, if you like,
I'll sing a song I learned the other day
And wager twenty pounds against a shilling
Mine is the better love-song of the two.
Morgause.
What say you, ladies? Shall this fledgling sing?
Lionors.
I am sure he will sing well.
46
[apart to Lionors].
I'll pay that speech
With twenty kisses for a word to-night.
[Sings. Morgause, Publius, and Ladinas
converse apart earnestly.]
With twenty kisses for a word to-night.
It was a sonsie shepherd lass
So early in the morning
That tripped across the dewy grass
And tossed her curls for scorning.
So early in the morning
That tripped across the dewy grass
And tossed her curls for scorning.
But ere she passed the brook, she cast
A look across her shoulder
That made the pitapats come fast
And yet my heart grew bolder.
A look across her shoulder
That made the pitapats come fast
And yet my heart grew bolder.
A look, a smile, a jest, a sigh,
A kiss and, ere we're madder,
A glance to see that no one's nigh—
And this is Cupid's ladder.
A kiss and, ere we're madder,
A glance to see that no one's nigh—
And this is Cupid's ladder.
Lionors.
Oh, fie! it is a jade's song. Naughty boy,
You must be good or you'll be sent to bed.
47
[to Peredure].
She cries “boy” too loudly. Oh, la la! Ostriches, ostriches!
Morgause.
Come, let's to tennis.
[To Peredure.]
Will you play with me?
Dagonet
[aside].
Ay, that he will, and lose the game too, for all your faults.
[Some play and the others gather about as spectators.]
Ladinas
[to Publius].
What think you? Have
I not achieved an ally of great price?
Publius.
It is well done. And no one of the court
Suspects you are Rome's secret emissary?
Ladinas.
Suspect a Knight of the Round Table? They would
As soon suspect the blessed angels.
Publius.
Yet
There was a Lucifer—
Ladinas.
No more of that!
I do not mean to sell my contraband
For barren rank or tinsel decorations.
I am no barbarous chieftain of the Zaire
48
I must have money; you must make me rich
Beyond the power of prodigality
To dissipate—rich, rich; the rest is toys
For babes to play with!
Publius.
You shall have your will.
But say what motive pricks the Queen of Orkney?
Ladinas.
She hates the King as none can hate but they
Who once have loved. It is the tale that ere
The mystery of Arthur's parentage
Was by his mother's oath made clear, he fought
With Lot of Orkney and defeated him.
Then came this queen, Morgause, the wife of Lot,
And Arthur's sister, but they knew it not;
And Arthur was enamoured, nor was she
Unwilling. And, indeed, men say a child
Was born and hidden somewhere in the hills,
And that by him his father shall be slain.
And others say the King is free from stain,—
None knows. But't is most certain that they loved;
And still the Queen of Orkney will not think
That Arthur is her brother, but believes
49
Judge how she hates him.
Publius.
And you love this woman?
Ladinas.
Ay, as the lost knight in the hollow hill
Loves Venus!. ... See you the fair lady yonder,
Who leads the stripling prince, Gawaine, at heel
Like a pet greyhound?
Publius.
Well, and what of her?
Ladinas.
Her name is Lionors, and of old time
She was the mistress of the King; but now
The Queen of Orkney keeps her in her train
That she may flaunt in Guenevere's proud face
Her bridegroom's old adulteries.
Morgause.
Love game!
It is the set, my lord.
[A trumpet without.]
Publius.
Is it a herald of the King's return?
Ladinas.
He will not come so soon. We shall have time
To spread a snare that he cannot escape,
Though how is all uncertain yet.
50
Galahault.
Good news!
Ladies, glad news! Sir Launcelot is returned.
Several.
What say you? Launcelot?
Galahault.
Launcelot and his kinsmen,
Lionel and Ector and the good Sir Bors.
[Enter Launcelot and Bors.]
Morgause.
All honor to the realm's pre-eminent knight,
Returned, I doubt not, from a glorious quest!
Honor and welcome to the good Sir Bors!
Launcelot.
Thanks, gentle lady. Joy be with you all!
Where is the King?
Dagonet.
Welcome to Camelot—
To my new capital of Foolery!
Launcelot.
What, Dagonet! [Aside.]
The Fool! Where is the lady?
Dagonet.
You have too good a memory, sir, for a man of place. But, indeed, I knew not it was you when I saved you. Nathless, without me you had
51
Morgause
[aside].
What's this? What's this?
Launcelot.
Now, by my sword, I am
Right glad to see your merry face again.
Where is the King?
Dagonet.
Why, I am king now and these are my subjects. See you not how, like good courtiers, they mimic me?
Kaye.
How do we mimic you, sirrah?
Dagonet.
Marry, by making fools of yourselves.
Ladinas.
The King, sir, is in Cornwall at the wars.
Launcelot.
I am right sorry that he is not here,
For since I set my face toward Camelot,
For joy that I should see him I have been
Light-hearted as a boy. I would clasp hands
And wish him happiness with his young bride!
The rumor of her beauty has gone out
From end to end of Britain. I have heard
She moves among our gardens like a dream
Of empired loveliness in far Cathay.
52
Do homage to my queen. Ah, gentle lady—
She shall not find in Camelot, I swear,
A heart more leal to her than Launcelot's.
Henceforth I'll wear no colors in the lists
But those of Arthur's bride.
[Enter Guenevere and Ladies. She stops in the centre, looking at Launcelot.]
Dear Galahault,
'T is my first duty both to king and friend
To lay my good sword at his lady's feet.
Lead me to her—
Bors! Galahault! Is it—? It is—
Galahault.
The Queen!
Launcelot.
I shall be leal to her indeed. Just God!
[He recovers himself. As he steps forward with Galahault toward the Queen the scene closes.]
Launcelot and Guenevere | ||