University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—A rocky pass in the mountains. Enter Launcelot, Bors, Lionel, Ector, the Lady, and the Dwarf.
Launcelot.
Let me rest here a moment. Nay, go on;
I shall o'ertake you ere you gain the crest.
Cousin, a word with you.
[Exeunt all but Bors and Launcelot.]
What blessed chance
Has led me hither?

Bors.
Cousin, you called me back.

Launcelot.
Why, but to have you with me, Bors. This place
Is like a sudden scene of other days
That starts up in the middle of a dream;

Bors.
Have you been here ere now?

Launcelot.
Ay, and that time
Would stand erect and vivid in my brain
Though all the other puppets of the past
Reeled into smoke. This is the very spot.
I lay here, cousin, even here where this gaunt bramble
Still tugs a meagre life out of the cleft
Where it is rooted,—faint almost to death;
For I had struggled through these cruel hills
Three days without a crust, and my head swam
And my legs wavered under me and would not
Bear me upright. Down these precipitous crags
And o'er these dizzy ledges I could pass
No more than I could leap across yon gulf,
And I lay down and thought of death, as of
A gulf into whose blackness one might leap
And fall forever. A long time lay I so,
Too weak to struggle with impending doom,
And death seemed like to yawn and swallow me.

Bors.
And yet you are not dead. How 'scaped you, then?

Launcelot.
God sent a blessed angel to my aid.
There on the peak beyond the gulf I saw her,
Standing against the sky, with garments blown,
The mistress of the winds! An angel, said I?
God was more kind, he sent a woman to me.

Bors.
The Lady of the Hills!

Launcelot.
Ay, so I call her,
For other name I know not.

Bors.
The unknown lady,
Whom you have made more famous than a queen!
Here saw you her the first time?

Launcelot.
And the last time.
She was attended by a motley Fool,
Who stretched his hand and pointed where I lay.
She saw me and in pity of my case
Sent Master Dagonet—so the Fool was called
But he nowise would tell the lady's name—
To help me down the pass. But she went on
Alone across the summits of the hills
Like some grand free Diana of the North
And passed out of my sight, as daylight fades
Out of the western sky. But I no more
Was faint, and went my way, considering.

Bors.
But could you nowise find out who she was?

Launcelot.
Nowise, for Merlin met me thereupon,
And brought me suddenly to Camelot,
Where I was knighted. I had fain delayed
But boy-like shamed to say wherefore my heart
Hung back toward the hills. And so I passed
Away from her and never saw her more.

Bors.
Even here it was you saw her?

Launcelot.
Ay, even here.

Bors.
Why, then, should you not meet her here again?

Launcelot.
The hope of that is as the morning-star,
The messenger of dawn. And in good sooth
I have a feeling in my heart that soon
My long and lightless service shall have end
And I shall serve her seeing. But our friends
Await us. I shall serve my lady better
With noble actions than with idle dreams.

[Exeunt.]