There two stood armed,and kept the door;to whom,All up the marble stair,tier over tier,Were added mouths that gaped,and eyes that asked 'What is it?'but that oarsman's haggard face,As hard and still as is the face that men Shape to their fancy's eye from broken rocks On some cliff-side,appalled them,and they said 'He is enchanted,cannot speak--and she,Look how she sleeps--the Fairy Queen,so fair!
Yea,but how pale!what are they?flesh and blood?
Or come to take the King to Fairyland?
For some do hold our Arthur cannot die,But that he passes into Fairyland.'
While thus they babbled of the King,the King Came girt with knights:then turned the tongueless man From the half-face to the full eye,and rose And pointed to the damsel,and the doors.
So Arthur bad the meek Sir Percivale And pure Sir Galahad to uplift the maid;And reverently they bore her into hall.
Then came the fine Gawain and wondered at her,And Lancelot later came and mused at her,And last the Queen herself,and pitied her:
But Arthur spied the letter in her hand,Stoopt,took,brake seal,and read it;this was all:
'Most noble lord,Sir Lancelot of the Lake,I,sometime called the maid of Astolat,Come,for you left me taking no farewell,Hither,to take my last farewell of you.
I loved you,and my love had no return,And therefore my true love has been my death.
And therefore to our Lady Guinevere,And to all other ladies,I make moan:
Pray for my soul,and yield me burial.
Pray for my soul thou too,Sir Lancelot,As thou art a knight peerless.'
Thus he read;
And ever in the reading,lords and dames Wept,looking often from his face who read To hers which lay so silent,and at times,So touched were they,half-thinking that her lips,Who had devised the letter,moved again.
Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to them all:
'My lord liege Arthur,and all ye that hear,Know that for this most gentle maiden's death Right heavy am I;for good she was and true,But loved me with a love beyond all love In women,whomsoever I have known.
Yet to be loved makes not to love again;
Not at my years,however it hold in youth.
I swear by truth and knighthood that I gave No cause,not willingly,for such a love:
To this I call my friends in testimony,Her brethren,and her father,who himself Besought me to be plain and blunt,and use,To break her passion,some discourtesy Against my nature:what I could,I did.
I left her and I bad her no farewell;
Though,had I dreamt the damsel would have died,I might have put my wits to some rough use,And helped her from herself.'
Then said the Queen (Sea was her wrath,yet working after storm)'Ye might at least have done her so much grace,Fair lord,as would have helped her from her death.'
He raised his head,their eyes met and hers fell,He adding,'Queen,she would not be content Save that I wedded her,which could not be.
Then might she follow me through the world,she asked;It could not be.I told her that her love Was but the flash of youth,would darken down To rise hereafter in a stiller flame Toward one more worthy of her--then would I,More specially were he,she wedded,poor,Estate them with large land and territory In mine own realm beyond the narrow seas,To keep them in all joyance:more than this I could not;this she would not,and she died.'
He pausing,Arthur answered,'O my knight,It will be to thy worship,as my knight,And mine,as head of all our Table Round,To see that she be buried worshipfully.'
So toward that shrine which then in all the realm Was richest,Arthur leading,slowly went The marshalled Order of their Table Round,And Lancelot sad beyond his wont,to see The maiden buried,not as one unknown,Nor meanly,but with gorgeous obsequies,And mass,and rolling music,like a queen.
