J. Comyns Carr - King Arthur - Act II lyrics

ACT II THE QUEEN'S MAYING. SCENE: – The slope of a hill in spring-time studded with bushes of whitethorn. A company of Maidens, garlanded with white may, descend the slope. They are followed by Guinevere and her Ladies. THE MAY SONG Ere upon its snowy bed Lies the firstborn of the spring, Ere the crocus lifts its head, Or the swallow finds its wing, Love is here: Say ye then Earth's flowers shall fade? We shall tell ye nay: Love, the first of all flowers made, Lives from May to May. He beneath whose sun-kissed feet Daisies rise to kiss the sun, Lily, rose, and meadow-sweet, – Love, that is all flowers in one, Love is here. Heed not then the blooms that fall, Dying with the day, Love, the sweetest flower of all, Lives from May to May. GUINEVERE. Here, on the verge of this untravelled wood, Beneath Love's flowering banner, we have set Our camp of war. For, know ye, ladies all, That dread adventure whereunto ye are called Is no poor mockery of a tournament Such as our lords love, jousting for a prize! Our cause is mortal; and those unseen swords We women wield, are forged to pierce men's hearts. Whereat, if any cheek grow white with fear, Let its poor owner straightway quit the field. Nay, all are brave? 'tis well. Ere day had dawned Our scouts and spies, which are the wingèd birds, Reported that a band of swaggering knights Did challenge our approach; 'gainst them we war. Yet hear me – not like timorous men who find Their courage grow from fellowship in fear, Wherefore in serried ranks they face their foe. Our greater strength hath ever best been proved In single combat: so we fight to-day; Nor need these fairer faces be encased In casques of steel; that never was our plan – For so indeed we should but hide from view All Love's bright armoury that lodges there. But, truth, I waste my breath where all are sk**ed In these same arts of war. Therefore set forth, Each on her chosen way, for in this wood Lurks many a pleasant bower o'er-roofed with green, Where moss and harebells weave a patterned floor With shifting tracery of added gold, Shot from the sun's eyes, peeping through the boughs Of flowering thorn. There should each lady lead Her conquered knight, that so, by gentler arts, Her love may cure the wounds that Love hath made. So, fare we all till sunset. Haste, away! As they move towards the wood, Dagonet rushes in and falls on his knees before the Queen. He bears a large rough garland of flowers hanging about his neck like a horse-collar. DAGONET [who is trembling with mock fear]. Sweet ladies, save me though ye love me not! I am sore pressed. GUINEVERE. What, hath some beast pursued thee? DAGONET. Ay, truth, a most sweet beast, yet fearsome, too. CLARISSANT. I pray you, madam, let us call these knights. We are in danger else. GUINEVERE. Is this your valour, That so you quake at shadows? Shame on ye! DAGONET. Ay, shame, for here is a beast that will harm no lady, though at this budding season 'tis very fatal to man. GUINEVERE. I would hear more of this beast. What form hath it? DAGONET. Well, to be plain yet modest withal, and not too curious, it is in all things shaped like a woman. GUINEVERE. Truly, a very monstrous woman that would so pursue a fool. DAGONET. Faith, there be many such, though 'tis only your sage fool that fears them. GUINEVERE. Rise, Dagonet, and tell us how it chanced. DAGONET. Then stiffen your sinews, for 'tis a heart-shaking legend. Hither came I through the wood, thinking of naught, and so counting myself wise beyond my years, when of a sudden I espied a maid who tended a herd of swine; whereat, I do confess it, I fell a-weeping bitterly, for surely never was mortal woman so fitly employed. CLARISSANT. You hear him, madam. GUINEVERE. Nay, let him run on. DAGONET. Ay, 'tis the finish that will cause ye to quake. For this same maid, not content with her most righteous calling, and haply moved by my tears, most artfully flung this halter about my neck, and swore a most villainous oath that she loved me well. Whereat I, being, as 'tis known, only half a fool, slipped from her embrace, and fled incontinently. GUINEVERE. Now thou art half a man, and therefore a most complete fool, that could so dread to be loved. DAGONET. Wherein thou art wrong, for I have a leaning that way, being very tenderly fashioned, and with a taste for red lips. But alack, I am troubled with a most constant heart that goes not with love! GUINEVERE. How say you? Is it so wise to rail against constancy? DAGONET. Nay, I would question thee. Canst tell me now what is most like to a river that drains to the sea? GUINEVERE. Faith, I cannot. DAGONET. Why, a maiden who weeps in the rain. GUINEVERE. Where hast thou seen that? DAGONET. Last night, where I sheltered from the storm, there pa**ed a lady sobbing as she rode, and with her tears the rain kept even tune; 'twas a sweet contest, yet I'll warrant her eyes outstayed the drippings of the sky. GUINEVERE. Knew you her face? DAGONET. 'Twas laid so low upon her palfrey's neck I saw it not. GUINEVERE. Go, fool, on your way. DAGONET. Ay, madam, by your leave, for I must seek the King, who comes from hunting. In May-time your King and your fool were ever very prettily a**orted. He goes up the hill singing. The cuckoo's note doth haunt the May, And some are glad, And some grow mad, But the fool goes singing on his way. Exit Dagonet. As he goes the Queen stands wrapt in thought. CLARISSANT. Nay, madam, see, 'tis noon, we waste our day. GUINEVERE [rousing herself]. Truly; lift up your voices, let us on. MAY SONG Dreaming 'neath a whitened thorn, Like a rose-leaf on the snow, Lovers! ere the day be worn, Ye shall find him and shall know, Love is here. And, at nightfall when ye part, Whispering shall say: Love is lord of every heart, Love is lord of May. The Ladies wander off through the wood preceded by the company of singing maidens, whose voices grow gradually fainter as they are lost in the distance, and at the last Guinevere follows slowly, and as she goes off, Morgan enters, and stands gazing after her, while at the same time Merlin appears on the rising path above. MORGAN. March on, my Queen, in all thy bravery! He that is lord of May and of thy heart, Blind leader of the blind, shall draw thee on, Where Lancelot waits for thee, love's slave and ours. MERLIN. The scabbard's gone, but England's lord Holds till d**h the naked sword. MORGAN [seeing him.] What wouldst thou now whose work is wellnigh done? May-day is here, and we, thy ministers, Need no fresh spur to hasten Fate's decree. MERLIN [approaching her]. At dawn I heard the splashing of the mere, And saw that j**elled scabbard sink and sink Till, like a glittering rainbow, down the deep It vanished, and the shuddering tide grew still. Dost thou know aught of this? MORGAN. Not I, forsooth! MERLIN. Thou liest, for I tracked thee in thy theft, And saw thee creep beside the sleeping King, Whose hand held fast that naked blade which gleamed, A bar of quivering moonlight, by his side. Thou hast stolen the scabbard, but no mortal hand Shall take the sword. MORGAN. What then? thyself didst say – The scabbard's worth doth far outweigh the sword. MERLIN. To him, but not to thee. 'Tis naught to thee: Who steals the scabbard doth but draw the sword, Who holds the sword, holds all save life, and wins, Though life be spent, a d**hless crown from d**h. MORGAN. Whose hand shall take it then, when d**h draws near? MERLIN. When those Queens of Night shall steer Arthur's barge across the mere, She who long ago did bring England's sword to England's King, She shall claim Excalibur! Exit Merlin. MORGAN. Croak on, let d**h but come; we'll chance the rest! Enter Mordred. MORDRED. Whose voice was that? MORGAN. 'Twas Merlin's, who grows old, And babbles like a child. What is thy news? MORDRED. Beyond our hope; Ryons and Mark are joined In equal strength of war, and, by this hour, Their glittering squadrons, like a serpent, coil Around Caerleon's walls. MORGAN. Whence got you this? MORDRED. Sir Morys from Caerleon rode post haste To warn our Master. He will ride no more. [Touching his sword. MORGAN. 'Tis well; your men keep watch on every road? MORDRED. Ay, all are guarded, let but this day pa** With no unwelcome note to wake the King, Then war may shriek its loudest; all is sure. MORGAN. Hast thou forgotten Lancelot? MORDRED [in alarm]. What of him? MORGAN. Nay, track him through the wood, and thou shalt learn. Come hither, see where, trembling, hand to hand, With speechless answering eyes, they woo the spring. Love sets the snare, but the caged bird is ours. For ere night's dusky arms enfold the sun, Lancelot shall be thy partner and thy slave. Exeunt Morgan and Mordred. The May Song is heard faintly in the distance. Enter Sir Lavaine and Clarissant. LAVAINE. Dost think our love will live from May to May? CLARISSANT. Nay, ask me that when May-day comes again. LAVAINE. Ah, tell me now! CLARISSANT. I'll tell thee all I know. If thou dost woo me well, I'll love thee well, – Should no one woo me better! LAVAINE. Wouldst thou be wooed That art already won? CLARISSANT. Most surely, sir! Who holds my heart must win it every day; And when 'tis won, 'tis then it must be wooed And won again. LAVAINE. Why, 'twas but yesterday That thou didst swear thy love would last till d**h. CLARISSANT. Ay, that was yesterday. LAVAINE. And shall thine oath Live but an hour? CLARISSANT. What is there in these oaths That you poor men so fondly cherish them? Perchance they fit your duller brains, which seek, With empty words, to bind the unborn hours. But we do wrong to humour you in this. We should not swear at all, knowing full well There's no to-morrow in a woman's heart, Which hath its yesterday of joy or pain Whose savour, lingering on our lips to-day, Makes all the present half a memory – The future all a blank. Then ask me not If I shall love thee when the year is worn; I loved thee yesterday: so be content. LAVAINE. Ah, but thou lovest to-day? CLARISSANT. To-day is young; Ask me at sundown, I will tell thee then. Exit laughing, and he following her. Enter Guinevere and Lancelot. GUINEVERE. The wood is dark. Let us be in the sun. LANCELOT. 'Twas dark ere yet the glory of thy face Came, like a golden message from the sun. And now, beneath this open vault of day, 'Twould change again to night wert thou not here. GUINEVERE. I had a foolish fear I should not find thee. LANCELOT. Nay, Guinevere, thou knowest that could not be. GUINEVERE. Indeed, 'tis true, for wandering alone Across the leafy screen that hedged my way, From every side I heard the echoing laugh Of Love's encounter. Then the wood grew still, And, softer than the silence, came the sound Of whispered vows from lips but newly met; And then, beneath an opening arch of green, Two lovers pa**ed, with hand in hand locked close. Ah, Lancelot! I was lonely as a child Locked in a darkened room. I called thee then; Didst thou not hear me? LANCELOT. Ay, and saw thee, too. GUINEVERE. Thou didst not answer? LANCELOT. Nay, forgive me, sweet! I could but watch thee. GUINEVERE. That was cruel, sir. LANCELOT. 'Twas but an instant. GUINEVERE. No, it was a year! And in that year a thousand thronging fears With devil faces perched amid the boughs. LANCELOT. What were thy fears? GUINEVERE. So many all in one: That I should lose thee. Lancelot putting his arms round her. LANCELOT. Never, until d**h. GUINEVERE. Ah, speak not so of d**h! I have seen a face That frighted me like d**h. LANCELOT [starting]. Whose face and where? GUINEVERE. Within the wood. 'Twas Merlin's, but so old, Lancelot, so old and worn I knew it not. LANCELOT. Those empty words of his do haunt thee still. I wonder at thy fears. GUINEVERE. Nay, scold me not. There's nothing haunts me when I have thee near. Love shuts the door on all things save itself, On all that's past and all that is to come When thou art by! Tell me, 'tis so with thee? LANCELOT. Ay, sweet, 'tis so. GUINEVERE. Ah, say it once again! I could not live, Lancelot, if in thy heart There lurked the tiniest little ache or pain Love might not cure. LANCELOT. Thou knowest all my heart; And in my love, which knows no law but love, The future and the past are drowning straws Caught in the full tide of our present joy, That neither ebbs nor flows. He holds her in a close embrace as Morgan and Mordred enter stealthily; at the same time is heard the sound of distant thunder, and the scene darkens. MORGAN. Dost mark them well? LANCELOT. Ambition, honour, duty, all that life Once held most dear, by thy sweet will subdued, Now wear Love's livery and would serve Love's Queen. The thunder is heard again and nearer. GUINEVERE [starting]. What sound was that? See, it grows dark again! LANCELOT. 'Tis but a cloud. GUINEVERE. It came like sudden night. Let us go in. [Thunder again.] Ah, 'tis the thunder's bolt That cracks the sky! LANCELOT. Nay, tremble not; 'twill pa** And leave Heaven's deeper blue. What shouldst thou fear? GUINEVERE. I know not. Hold me closer, closer still, That so my heart may catch the fearless tune Of thy heart's steadfast music. Now I am brave, And could be always, wert thou always here, So let us on. Yet tell me o'er again – Ah, I do tease thee; 'tis but this once more – Tell me, whate'er befall, that thou art mine! LANCELOT. For ever and for ever I am thine. A crash of thunder and a lightning flash. MORDRED [looking after them]. He lies, my Queen; not thine, but mine till d**h!