University of Virginia Library


3

FIRST MOVEMENT.

The Forest of Broceliande. Taliesin lies asleep under the thick-leaved trees, a harp by his side. The voices of unseen Spirits are heard, singing.
Voices.
Here falls no light of sun nor stars;
No stir nor striving here intrudes;
No moan nor merrymaking mars
The quiet of these solitudes.
Submerged in sleep, the passive soul
Is one with all the things that seem;
Night blurs in one confusèd whole
Alike the dreamer and the dream.
O dwellers in the busy town!
For dreams you smile, for dreams you weep.
Come out, and lay your burdens down!
Come out; there is no God but Sleep.


4

[The branches are pressed apart, and the young knight, Sir Percival, pushes his way through them.
Percival.
No path, no beacon of directing stars,
No outlet from perpetual wandering!
Three days have I sought vainly through this wood;
And yet I fear to sleep. The heavy air
Enwraps me with a drowsiness so strange
I dare not yield to it.—What youth is this?
A minstrel, by his harp. Alas, he sleeps
As if he ne'er would wake again. Soho!
Awake! lest you should sleep into your death.

Taliesin
(awaking).
Dreams, but I fain would know wherefore we dream.

Percival.
Shake off your slumber now and answer me.
I am Sir Percival, three days ago
Made Knight of the Round Table. Who art thou?

Taliesin.
I was the bard at Elphin's court, whose realm
The encroaching sea o'erthrew. And now I go
To seek the halls of Arthur, for a bard
Must live at courts, and where the life of men
Is densest and the struggle is most fierce.

Percival.
Men speak at Camelot of Taliesin,
And call him the new Merlin. Ay, the King
Himself has spoken of you, and I know
That you will be right welcome. But how comes it
That you are here so far from the right way?


5

Taliesin.
This is the mystic wood where Merlin lies
In his enchanted sleep. My master he,
And of him I seek counsel.

Percival.
And I too.
Three days have I sought for him in this wood,
And seen no living thing, nor heard no sound
But murmurs that entice me to a sleep
Wherefrom I shrink. I took this quest upon me,
Being heartsore with the scandals of the court.

Taliesin.
Scandals, at the court of the blameless King?

Percival.
Sir, I perceive you know us as we seem,
Not as we are. And for the King himself,
Save rumors of strange sins wrought long ago,
I know no charge against him. But his court,
Even the high order of the Table Round,
That was for an ensample edified
Of manhood at its highest, holiest reach,—
It has become a house of infamy.
Ere I was made a knight, the sin I saw
Made the light harsh and the air stifling to me;
And then I vowed that my first knightly quest
Should be to find some rescue from the sin.

Voices.
Sleep, and renounce the vital day;
For evil is the child of life.
Let be the will to live, and pray
To find forgetfulness of strife.

6

Beneath the thicket of these leaves
No light discriminates each from each.
No Self that wrongs, no Self that grieves
Hath longer deed nor creed nor speech.
Sleep on the mighty Mother's breast!
Sleep, and no more be separate!
Then, one with Nature's ageless rest,
There shall be no more sin to hate.

Taliesin.
Again—the slumber gains upon my eyes
As gently as night rises on the hills.

Percival.
Arouse you! Hither came we not to sleep;
And to my ears these voices, like the scent
Of poisonous orient flowers, albeit sweet,
Are heavy with the drowsiness of death.

Taliesin.
Death hath no terrors if he come like this,
Fondling the soul to sleep with lingering touch.

Percival.
No sleep for us, on whom the weight is laid
Of many labors. Yet what way to turn
Or by what art or speech or master deed
To find the Seer where he lies entranced
That know I not.

Taliesin
(seizing his harp).
But that I know, nor longer

7

Shall these seducing spirits have power on me.
Listen, for now I rule them in my turn.
[He touches the strings of his harp, and at the sound the other murmurs are still. He sings:
Spirits of Sleep,
That swell and sink
In the sea of Being
Like waves on the deep,
Forming, crumbling,
Fumbling, and tumbling
Forever, unseeing,
From brink to brink!
Perishing voices,
That call and call
From the coves of dream
With hollow noises!
I hear the sweep
Of the tides of sleep,
The ocean stream
Where the ages fall.
But not for these
Will I let me die,
Though my heart remembers
The calling seas;
For the cycles fought
Till form was wrought
And Might had members
And I was I.

8

Yet still to you,
O Dreams, I turn;
Not with a prayer
But a bidding to do!
I surmount and subdue you;
Not without you but through you
I shall forge and fare
To the chosen bourne.

Voices.
We are ware of a will
Cries “Peace, be still!”
And our waters cease
To a troubled peace.

Taliesin.
Lo, star upon star!
They dwell alone—
Sirius, Altair,
Algebar!
Their ways are asunder,—
Aloof, in thunder
They march and flare
From zone to zone.
But the formless ether
Far and far
Enfolds their places.
Therein together
At one they sweep

9

From deep to deep,
And over its spaces
Star calls to star.
Through its waves they reach
Beyond their spheres
To their fellow fires.
Each yearns to each,
And the straight wills swerve
To a yielding curve,
And a moth's desires
Deflect the years.
And with urge on urge
Of the rippling wave
Light speeds through space;
The domes emerge;
And the halls of Night
Behold each light
Reveal his face
To the vast conclave
The centred Soul
By these is known.
Its will it wreaks
At its own control;
But dumb, unseeing,
The sea of Being
Washes the peaks
Where it strives alone.


10

Voices.
As the dawn awaits
The recoiling gates
Of the eastern air,
We are calm and hear.

Taliesin.
O vast of Sleep
Wherein we grew!
Whence wrench by wrench
Self heaved its steep!
The bond abides;
Your mighty tides
Still clasp and clench
The soul to you.
In your darks indwelling
The lonely Mind
Regains its deeps.
Therethrough the compelling
Gravitation of soul
Decrees control,
And with far leaps
Knits kind to kind.
Through your floods of dream
The warm love glows;
And its live light streaming
Beam on beam
Bares each to each

11

As sight nor speech
Nor deed nor deeming
Could e'er disclose.
For save in you
(Strange under-life!)
We can but trust
If the world be true,
Or if our vision
Be but derision,
The smoke and dust
Of a phantom strife.
Oh, then, to gain
The eternal streams!
Nor fail as flakes
In the gulfing main!
No lordship losing,
To fare on, fusing
The self that wakes
And the self that dreams!
For so shall my calling
Compel to me
The dumb, the distant,
The unrecalling,
Through ways that darken
To hie and hearken
And unresistant
Their dooms decree.

12

So shall my word
Yearn forth and reach
Where Merlin lies,
Far, still, unstirred
Of birth or dying.
Yea, at my crying
The dead shall rise
And grant me speech.
O Merlin, master,
Hear my prayer!
We grope and palter,
And thick disaster
Besets our ways
In the wood of days
Wherein we falter
From snare to snare.
One hour awake
From your magic sleep,
And point us where
Are the paths to take;
Till in your musing
We find for choosing
The deeds to dare
And the laws to keep.

[A diffused light appears in the background. It gathers and defines to a luminous sphere.

13

Voices.
He hath spoken our names;
And we yield as flames
That are wild or still
At the wind's will.

[The forms of Merlin and Nimue gradually become visible in the light.
Nimue.
He sleeps;
The ancient Mother o'er him croons
The lull of her recurring runes;
And in his heart he keeps
The calm of silent moons.
For him no vital Avalon,
No still-aspiring Paradise!
He sought it not; at peace he lies,
Nor hears the years stride on.
On earth two only held his heart,
And with these two his soul abides.
For here reluctant Nature hides
No more her secret; he is part
Of her most unconfided whim,
And here in dreams I visit him.
O ye for whom the forest has no fears!
O thou whose voice is strong
To quell the night with song!
Speak; for he hears.

Taliesin.
Wakest thou, then, O Merlin?

Merlin.
Nay, I sleep.

Taliesin.
And yet thou hearest?


14

Merlin.
I hear thee in my dream.
Who art thou?

Taliesin.
One that ere thou knewest sleep,
Chose thee for master; for I heard the hills
Reverb thy music, and the druid trees
Speak with thy voice and take thy thought upon them.
And still I hearten mine own song with thine,
And on the lonely crags repeat thy runes
And fill my lungs with thunders. But to me
Speak thou not yet. I am but as my harp
Whereon a Hand makes music; thou, the last
Of the antique wholeness and heroic height,
Bard, ruler, prophet, like the sacred oak,
With stir of lyric rumor in thy leaves,
Shadowest the mysteries of the hidden gods.
Give answer first to him that comes with me,
Who seeks to rule his deeds; then to my cry,
Who am the horn blown on his battlefield.

Merlin.
The horn blown is a deed. I know thee now
And him that comes with thee. (To Percival.)
Brave-hearted boy,

Though not for thee to know the mysteries,
Be of good heart; thou also shalt attain.
Thou shalt behold the ripe fruit on the tree,
Though the earth send its riches through the sap
Without thy ken; and thy right hand shall guard
The fruit from evil, and thy lips shall taste
Its savor. From this place the earth-goddess,
Even Nimue, whom thou beholdest here,

15

Shall bear thee to a castle far away
Where the Graal-lord, King Evelac, abides;
A marvel shall be shown thee there, and all,
Lawful to speak, be told thee.

Percival.
Must I leave
My comrade then?

Merlin.
Heed not; but, forasmuch
As thou mayest not behold the secrets shown
To thy companion, sleep. When thou awakest,
Thou shalt be with him and the ancient King.

Percival.
Nay, nay, I will not sleep.

Merlin.
Thou must. (To Taliesin.)
For thee,

Dear son, thou shalt not be as I. I am
As I desired, but thy desire shall be
Other, and thou shalt go from hence to win
From brighter powers intenser wakefulness,
While I sink back to deeper sleep. But first,
Ere from the wood thou pass, thou shalt behold,
Unclad alone to lyric eyes, the heart
Of Broceliande, the Lady of the wood,
The goddess of the silent stir of life,
Nimue, in star-blinding nakedness.

Percival.
Thou wilt not do this thing.

Taliesin.
Thy dream for thee;
But for me other stars and white desires.
Great master, rest; and all thy will be thine.

Merlin.
I go again to the great deep. Farewell!

[The form of Merlin fades away out of the circle of light.

16

Nimue
(to Percival).
Wilt thou resist? Behold, if I stretch but my hand
Like a gleam of the northlights against thee, thou yieldest. The calm
Of the cool earth rises about thee, and over thy heart
Shoots lacework of frost,—crystal lightnings that thicken and knit
To a corselet of silence: Ice-bound, wilt thou strive, wilt thou wake?
[Percival sleeps.
Sleep; not for the eyes that contemn me, I draw from its sheath
The white sword of my beauty. Sleep; ay, lest thou wake and it smite
And cleave thee with madness.

Taliesin.
Goddess swift and fierce!
I know the trail that in dim woods at eve
Hangs like a mist and makes each stir of air
Accord in music. I have caught and lost
The memory of thy passing in thrilled skies,
Or where waves crumble their thin edges down
In laughter of shifting line. But never day
So bugling, never night so druid-sweet
That the elusive secret spoke itself,
The lamp whose radiance or reflection washed
The world in charm, blazed evident in pearl.

Nimue.
I have known thee, my lover, my bard. I have lurked in the leaves
And allured thee with rumors, and fled, and beguiled thee to follow,

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Till I sank in the maze and escaped thee and laughed through my hair.

Taliesin.
Thou crafty, thou elusive, undivined!
Laugh once again, O queen, with lyric throat
And witchcraft of escape in wildwood eyes!
—Nay, this time mock me not; though equal charm
Abide in thee evasive in the glen
Or in this arctic splendor palpable!
Remain, remain; and from thy holy light,
Oh, cast the pale electric mantle off;
My eyes will dare the sun.

Nimue.
On thy head the event!
Be thou weak to sustain the intolerable avatar,
Thou shalt flee from this forest accursed; from this day at thy heart
Like a vulture the rage of that beauty shall ravin for food
And consume thee for failure to find it. But master thy soul
And be strong to command in the blaze of the vision thy song,
And my power shall be thine and the word of my magic to men.
Achieve the ordeal, through me shalt thou seek other gods,
And their light be upon thee.

Taliesin.
Reveal thyself.

Nimue.
See, at thy peril.


18

[Nimue throws back from her shoulders her mantle, revealing herself in softer garments of a roseate yellow; these, with an almost imperceptible slowness, seem first to melt away into draperies of light, which vanish in turn save for shreds of luminous mist that linger a little and then disappear completely, leaving the goddess manifest in her beauty. All the while Taliesin, standing by the entranced body of his companion, sings to a strange accompaniment on his harp.
Taliesin.
As the stars dissolve in the dawn,
Thou art warm, thou art fair;
And the birth of thy beauty is gone
Like a chord through the air.
The darkness has heard, and is thrilled
With a light to be born;
The heart of the silence is filled
With the trumpets of morn.
As the kiss of two lovers at night
Makes the darkness a choir,
The dusk is a-quiver with light
Of its heart's desire.
Earth bows in her temple of stars
In a rapturous hush,
As beaconing over her scars
God burns in the bush.

19

As the heather glows over the hills
Like a shadow ablaze,
The moss of the forest-floor thrills
Into bloom at thy gaze;
The grasses begin to confer,
And the crickets to fife;
The borders of Death are astir
With the armies of Life.
Thou art comely, O queen, thou art strong
As the red deer leaping;
And the light of thy limbs is like song
When thought lies sleeping;
As the sphere of a star thou art fair;
As an almond in bloom
The flush of thy beauty laid bare
Throbs, throbs in the gloom.
O daughter and queller of strife,
From whose beauty death slips
Like a cloud in thy garments! my life
For the cling of thy lips!
I have known thee, our Lady of Birth;
I have seen and adored;
I must die on the reel of thy mirth
Or be wholly thy lord.

[He steps forward into the circle of light and kisses her. The light vanishes instantly, and the scene is plunged into darkness.