{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/arthur/art043.htm","path":"neu/arthur/art043.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/arthur/art043.htm","text":"Sacred Texts\u00a0\n Legends/Sagas\u00a0\n England\u00a0\n Index\u00a0\n Previous\u00a0\n Next\u00a0\n \n \n An Arthurian Miscellany\n THE TRAGEDY OF ETARRE\n by\n RHYS CARPENTER\n \n \n \n \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 CHARACTERS OF THE POEM \n \n PELLEAS\n GAWAINE, knight of the Table Round \n FERGUS, attendant on PELLEAS\n ETARRE\n AILEEN, maid to ETARRE\n AVRAN\n BALARIN\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 } knights of ETARRE\n MARIS\n \n \n The scene is laid in the COUNTRY OF ETARRE\n \n \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\n THE TRAGEDY OF ETARRE \n \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 PROLOGUE \n \n SCENE: The curtain rises upon shifting fog-clouds\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0which drive across the stage in ceaseless unrest.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 GAWAINE is half visible, struggling against \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the grey drift. \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 GAWAINE\n Is this the dawn whose fingers strive so weak\n To pluck away the clinging shroud of night,\n Or is this some unlightened, sullen land\n Fallen between the darkness and the day?\n Back from me, shrouded phantoms, misty sprites!\n This is no time to whirl your shadow-dance:\n Seek out the flooded marshes of the North\n If ye would revel; seek the sunless heights\n And laugh along their chasms and dark ravines,\n Or frown and lower on plain of gloomy lakes,\n Or battle with the giants of the hills.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He unsheathes his sword .]\n Since ye have shape and substance, fear this blade.\n Shifting and mocking though ye vex mine eyes,\n Yet are ye more than breath of mindless air,\n For here I see your bodies' countenance\n That leers against me, stupid mouth ajar,\n And there I see your clutching hands which stretch\n With boneless fingers, snatching at the wind.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He strikes. ]\n Lo, how I cleft thee, shuddering breast and waist\n From formless nether-limbs! Thy silly strength\n Is thistle-down that's harried by the storm,\n Or rain-drop's airy bubble threatening\n With tiny voice the clarion-mouth\u00e8d sea.\n Give way, weak phantom-thoughts of impotence,\n Less real than clouded dreams that fall and break\n In splintered crystals of awakening.\n Grey-blooded, mirthless things that toss and fret,\n I drive you back before me, void and vain.\n [ He disappears in the fog, cleaving with his sword\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the clouds which press in on every side. From\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the unseen background are heard three voices\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0singing. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0SONG\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Children of the misty plain,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Creatures wrought of cloud and rain,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shadowed phantoms of the brain\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of the dreaming earth,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fade and vanish! in the sun\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0All your magic is undone,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0All your charm\u00e8d webs unspun,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tangles little worth,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tattered shreds and wisps of grey\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0By the breezes swept away,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Smitten by the swords of day.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ During the song the fog has begun to clear. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fade and vanish, take you hence,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Loose your revel, break your spell,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Crush the heaven's lightless shell;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hidden in the magic well,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Held enfettered by our thrall,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Move no wing and stir no sense,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Bide imprisoned till we call.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ The fog has entirely cleared. ]\n \n SCENE: A woodland pool, about which stand three\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0maidens, the first of whom is young, the second\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0in the mid of life, the third old, with grey-\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0streaked hair. The trees show autumn leafage.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Early morning. \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n What sprites are ye that weave a riddled song\n Whereby the very forces of the sky\n Are held enmeshed in sure obedience?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n Draw near and hearken to our speech,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For we have wonders on our lips\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And work strange magic with our tongue.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n On sable reef and golden beach\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0By will of us sea-things and ships\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In wrack of wind and wave are flung.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE ELDEST\n The fingers of our fortune reach\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From moon to sun and work eclipse\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Whereby dead stars are fashioned young.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n What wild black speech is this of sun and star,\n And what have ye to do with ruined ships?\n Are ye the devil's handmaids working grief\n Against the sunlit ways of God?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE ELDEST\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We guard:\n Ours is a sacred heritage.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We wait:\n Ours is a dark fulfillment.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We attain:\n For we are one with all that moves and is.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n What ye attain I know not, why ye wait\n Is hidden till the waiting hour be done,\n And what ye guard I see not, yet am fain\n To snatch this knowledge from your flying speech\n As feather stricken from a fleeing bird.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He approaches the three ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n The plume that flutters down the tired wind\n Is not more idly grasped, nor with less toil\n Attained, than is the secret of our word.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Is this a spring wherein the fair water lies,\n Or but illusion's round, some silver gleam\n Caught up and pent within the hoop of night,\n A mirror wrought of nothing? Nay, but here\n Is water welcome to the thirsty mouth!\n I pray you by all holy thoughts and names\n Give me to drink! Three days of wandering\n Have parched my lips and snapped my strength in twain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n The well of strange adventure: whoso drinks\n Shall fill the changing pages of his deeds\n With words of written wonder.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And the king\n Has nought of higher praise to give his knights\n Than this: \"They sought adventure and attained.\"\n Give me to drink. Alone and without steed,\n Wearied with hunger, stricken with fatigue,\n I take upon me danger, toil, and strife,\n And drink adventure with an eager mouth;\n For I am Gawaine, and of Arthur's court!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE ELDEST\n Before that hour when over stony ways\n Thy steed was broken, never in the lists\n To run against the wind with nostrils wide\n Or stand again the shock of breaking spears,\n Before, alone in wood and tangled glade,\n Thy feet strove sadly, seeking hermitage,\n We knew of Gawaine, dreaming he would come\n And beg a draught to quench his bitter thirst.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n What tale is this? Ye knew that I should come?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE ELDEST\n Yea, 'twas our knowledge that this thing should be.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Beneath gold raiment lurks deceptive heart\n And too-great knowledge is a mask for ill.\n I fear you that are fair of face, and wise\n Beyond all proper wisdom of mankind.\n God and the devil's workers are alone\n In such foreknowledge.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE ELDEST\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Find no fear of us.\n This was a dream: we are beset with dreams.\n What faults of ours if they be always true?\n We cannot guide our dreams, they are of God.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n We are the warders of a deathless source.\n Draw near and drink, and have no further fear.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n We give, yet give not save for gift's return.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n What will ye of me?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0That which all must give,\n Judgement between us of his true desire.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n The shrouds of clinging words are yet undrawn,\n And deep enfolded lies the inner wish:\n I know not what ye say, nor what ye will.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n No colours of strange magic hide our speech.\n The well of strange adventure: whoso drinks\n Shall choose between us whom his true desire\n Would make companion in the day of deeds.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Is this the price wherewith a draught is paid?\n Small price and quickly given. Yet to choose\n Vexes the spirit with a running doubt\n That will not rest.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nay, drink thy draught,\n And when the clamour of the hounds of thirst\n Has ceased above its quarry, and thy lips\n Are drinking in their long-sought sustenance,\n Perchance thy spirit's fire shall rise again\n Until the lamp of judgement shall be light\n Within thy mind, to cast its faultless shine\n Upon our waiting and release thy doubt.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n Loosen thy helm and make of it thy bowl,\n Thy silver goblet dipping crystal wine.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n The subtle threads of water twist and spin\n And will not be contained within a helm.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n Nay, make thy trial.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0If there be magic here,\n Perchance the helm will hold the dwindling weight;\n Else is it vain. Yet let my hands essay\n What soul and body thirst for; and ye streams\n Of shadowed water, lend your kindly aid.\n [ He looses his helmet and dips it into the well until it\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0is filled to the brim. He raises it to his lips,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and, stooping above it, drinks long. ]\n Through all the barren chambers of my soul\n There went the sound of music and a voice\n That woke the silence with a song of life;\n And my own spirit sang. Through open doors\n Came breath of springtime, earth's awakening,\n The resurrection from the graves of sleep.\n Look down, look down; the water at thy feet\n Is troubled with the coming of a dream.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n [ Gawaine bends over the well and stares into its depths. ]\n What world of changing pageants here is hid?\n Across the mirrored passage of the well\n Move bright processions, glittering array\n Of bannered knights and charging battle-fields.\n The shift like oil on silent rivers borne\n And blend quick colours caught from rainbow heights\n With gold and silver pride of broidered silks\n Precious beyond all treasured count of wealth.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He remains, staring spellbound. ]\n The armies pass, and now again the sky\n Lies here reflected, and the shaded trees\n Bring silence with their canopy of green.\n There sped a swallow like a gleam of grey,\n And here the wind went laughing through the leaves.\n The magic show has passed.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It will renew.\n Some fuller vision draws across the depths.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE ELDEST\n What seest thou, O Gawaine? for mine eyes\n Are not as are my sister's, keen to mark\n From farthest bounds the uttermost approach,\n And in quick vision versed; yet mine retain\n Their memories, unfaded for all time.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n An armoured knight in shameful wise is borne\n Bound to the belly of a drooping steed;\n Three sorry knaves of little stature drag\n Th' unwilling bridle. Now the dream is passed.\n What sight was this? what riddle of a world\n Where men are pictures on the water's shield,\n And things go by without our minds' control\n Like scattered dreams when body's maladies\n Assail the brain and make of it their toy?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n This is thy future: time's processional\n Moves ever through the water's mirrored depth,\n And he who drinks may gain a broken glimpse\n Within the endless change of shape and form\n Wherewith the false, illusive world of sense\n Doth clothe itself in unreality.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Am I that knight, in wretched manner bound?\n Shall others drag me at their bridle's will?\n Would I were slain in battle, ere such fate\n Had darkened all the splendour of my deeds\n And over all the glory of great wars\n And broken fields of battle cast a pall.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n My knight he is and loyally he serves.\n But let thine eyes and not thy lips demand\n Response: lean forth above the crystal flood\n And with keen search from visioned future pluck\n A present knowledge; in those depths there lie\n The figures, shapes, and fashions of all things.\n Call forth again its magic pageantry,\n And seek thy answer there.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The depths are stirred,\n Light leaps from shadow, figures move and sway\n And gather into outline fraught with life. . .\n Unbound he lies, the horse with feet unmoved\n Crops short the herbage, triple caitiff knights\n Have laid their hands beneath him; now they toil\n Across the gorse; his helpless body hangs\n With legs and arms that strike against the ground\n In mimic eagerness and mock embrace.\n And here they move beyond the mirror's rim,\n And lo, myself, approaching on the hill! . . .\n Dark! . . . dark! . . . more quick than sun before the storm,\n Or moon cloud-ridden, sped the light away.\n This water, gleaming with the shapes of men,\n Is now but water -- \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And therewith fulfils\n Thy thirst, and calls upon thee for thy word,\n That pledged reward, that choice between our lives.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n How ran your saying? \"Whoso drinks\n Shall choose among us her whom true desire\n Would make companion in the day of deeds.\"\n Fair are ye all: here lies no price to pay,\n But some reward, heav'n-sent to quench desire.\n Fair are ye all, and therein lurks the doubt:\n I choose the one, and straight the other two\n Neglected rankle, till a gaping wound\n Across my memory cries out regret,\n And lo, I know not whom my choice approves.\n Yet often, when our brains are still at fault,\n Still measuring confusion, weighing doubts,\n There wakens in our heart a sudden fire\n To guide the will and light the darkened thought.\n I pray you, therefore, be compassionate\n And find no evil in my words; their fault,\n If fault they hold, set not against my charge,\n But lay their burden at the doors of Them\n Who fashioned men and gave them their desires.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE ELDEST\n To him that cries my name, I bring a gift\n Of wisdom greater than the strength of kings.\n Mine eyes have seen, through many a changing year,\n The circles of men's life revolve, return,\n Through birth and childhood unto age and death.\n My lips can tell thee tales and mysteries\n Of olden days when dragons held the earth\n And creatures of the slime were on the sea,\n When men did battle in fierce, brutish wise\n And lived in hollow caverns of the hills.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n The past I love not: 'tis a murdered life,\n A corpse wherein the worms of memory cling.\n I like not tales, they haunt the present deed\n And make the sword-edge tremble with their dreams,\n The faltering spear-shaft snap within our hands.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE YOUNGEST\n But I am one who never felt the past\n Blow like the bitter wind from winter seas.\n For me the world is yet a dream unheard,\n A flower whose cup has never held the sun.\n Turn unto me and love me; thou and I\n Shall guide anew the world, restore the right,\n And make of men a goodlier, nobler race.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n There is nought certain in this world of change\n Save what our hands can grasp, our eyes behold;\n All else is mockery of chance and time,\n A golden bauble, a deceptive lure,\n A sunlit rainbow seen across the clouds, --\n Draw nearer, there is nothing: mist and rain.\n And thou, fair maid upon the threshold caught\n With eager feet half ventured, half afraid,\n Thy promise is not yet fulfillment grown,\n Thine eyes are mirrors of a future world,\n Foreboders of enchantment, giving view\n On womanhood and sweet matured delights,\n Still hidden, now, in virginal reserve.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He turns towards the SECOND MAIDEN.]\n But thou whose gaze is neither sad nor gay,\n Not sad for years behind thee taken flight,\n Nor gay with hope of pleasant days unseen,\n But full with knowledge of a present grace,\n Demanding not from future or from past,\n Secure within the fastness of thy ways,\n Thou art to me a token and a sign\n Of perfect womanhood's unyielding charm,\n For matchless adoration set apart.\n I choose thee for the mistress whom my spear\n Shall champion against the warring earth;\n My sword shall bear thy name through cloven steel\n Of foeman's helm and reeling battle-shield;\n And like a beacon shalt thou blaze and burn\n Above the lists, through cries of fallen men,\n To light me into battle, till I grasp,\n With victor's hand, th' unsteady plume of fame.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE SECOND\n The choice is made, the choosing spirit bound;\n The reed is cut, the spoken word is writ;\n Closed lies the book; already, many hands\n Are fashioning the unrelenting seal.\n The hour is here wherein thou shalt depart.\n In form invisible I come to guide\n Thy shifting purpose and uncertain will.\n Go forth and seek fulfillment from thy choice:\n Beyond this wood there lies the waiting world\n And many deeds therein, to do or spurn.\n Across the shifting picture of thy fate\n Lie sun and shadow of incessant change\n And nought of steadfast purpose under all\n Save me, in guise unseen, to lead thy hand\n From fortune into favour, love, and strife.\n Farewell, and fare as best such spirits may\n That choose my counsel; theirs is but a life\n That mocks its own attainment, wrought in vain.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ She bends over the well and speaks in incantation. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Veil the light:\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hide the day!\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shadow and silence!\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Dreamless sleep!\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Spirits hidden in the well,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Bound beneath a magic spell,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Stirring neither limb nor sense\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In an idle impotence,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Rise against the glaring day,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Spreading sable shrouds and dun,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Cover earth and sky with grey;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Cast your veils against the sun!\n [ As she speaks, the light gradually wanes. From the well\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0a fine mist begins to rise. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n By sorcery accursed I stand agape\n Nor stretch a thwarting hand to break the spell.\n Were I a cliff, a thousand ages old,\n Or gnarl\u00e8d pine deep-rooted in the rock,\n I could not stand more idly, nor endure\n More helpless in the surging front of ill.\n [ The mist grows ever heavier, until a dense fog, rising\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0from the well, has covered the entire stage. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0THE THREE MAIDENS [ singing ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Damp and mist and heavy vapour,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shrouded fog and dripping cold,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Quench the sunlight's fallen taper,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hide away the flame of gold.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Out of pond and becken cool,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Out of well and fountain head,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Out of tree-enshadowed pool\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Where the autumn leaves lie dead,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Where no deer with frightened feet\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ever leapt in terror fleet,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Out of marshy river bed\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Where no forest creature drank,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Out of swamp and fen arisen,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Break your bonds and loose your prison,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Water vapours, grey and dank!\n \n [ The fog has completely hidden everything. The\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0singing voices have drifted ever further and\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0further away, until at last the song dies in the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0distance. A long silence follows. For several\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0minutes the stage remains grey and void. At\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0last the fog begins to clear. ]\n \n \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 ACT ONE \n \n SCENE: A wild upland open to the sky. Hill-\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0slopes with scattered firs. The ground is\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0covered with gorse-bushes; knee-high, in golden\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0bloom. The last shreds of fog drift off over the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0moors to the left and vanish, reevaeling far-away\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the gleaming towers of the Castle of ETARRE.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Full morning. AVRAN, BALARIN, and MARIS \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0stand above the helpless body of PELLEAS.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Enough of drudge and drag: here let him lie.\n The pricking gorse has played an eager bride\n And clapped him welcome in her unwelcome arms.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0BALARIN\n A weary work fulfilling punishment!\n Too often in the scourger's thankless toil\n The swinging lash flies back, and with shrewd blow\n Assails th' inflicting hand: so is't with us,\n Who strain against yon living weight of mail\n With bloodless fingers, and with stumbling feet\n Through country-side accurst scarce feel our way;\n Small glory have we got us therewithal.\n This is our fame: to counter with a knight\n Who will not lift his spear against our shields,\n A mad-cap creature in whose brain there sits\n The bird of folly. Truth, a mighty task.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n And here, within the growing heat of morn,\n We come like serfs in secret burial,\n Dragging a living corpse beneath the sky.\n Enough, enough! this is no food for knights;\n Our very horses would revolt the taste\n And eye their masters with a keen disdain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n There is a feast which no knight may refuse\n If he be bid to a table; all that owe\n Allegiance to an overlord must eat\n The meat of service, drink the willing wine\n Of fealty, whereby true knighthood lives.\n You know from whom you draw your honour's strength;\n She laid upon us bond of her commands\n And bade us from the belly of his steed\n Unbind this knight and over briar and thorn\n Drag out his body till the breath be faint:\n So should his courage vanish like a dream,\n And that mad frequency of his desire\n Be staid to abstinence. Up! drag him on.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Then snare the sun and strangle out its heat.\n Go, draw cool shadows out of distant trees\n And wake the winds that sleep upon the hills.\n Call back our bodies' breath that's taken flight\n At sight of labour, like a bonded wretch.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n Then let him lie, and heaven rest his soul.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0BALARIN\n The mighty Pelleas, the rumoured knight\n Well proven in the midmost toil of war,\n How fares he now, the hero of the lance,\n The champion such as men have never seen?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n In curious wise beneath the open sun\n He dreams of battle, while the springing gorse\n Grows up unheard around his silent helm.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0BALARIN\n But when his bruis\u00e8d limbs have found the balm\n Of first recovery, he'll rise and seek\n To draw the shattered ships of his emprise\n To greater battles over windier deeps.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n 'Twere well to slay him here and quench his soul.\n Else will the spirit that indwells his breast\n Grow wings once more and fly above our heads\n Like loosened hawk against the fleeing hare.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n We may not slay him, tho' 'twere mercy's hand\n Which dealt that stroke.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then will he, like a midge,\n In vast persistence make our lives a curse\n Of tiny wounds and quick annoyances.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n 'Twill prove him small avail to prick and sting:\n The midge, if he return too often, learns\n That wings so small can yet be clipped and crushed\n And tiny body caught and buffeted.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n 'Twere well to hold it longer to its cage;\n Yet here it has its freedom and the world\n Wherein to fly abroad, and lo, it lies\n Ungrateful, without sign of thanks or praise.\n Fly warrior, we salute thee! Noisy gnat,\n Midge of the marshes, fare thee well!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0BALARIN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0All hail,\n Chit-sparrow; sit i' the bush and braggart sing;\n O valiant bird! O wren with eagle's soul!\n An owl that flies in daytime without eyes.\n [BALARIN and AVRAN depart across the hill. MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 follows, but hesitates and turns back. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS [ standing above the body of PELLEAS]\n Too many times, far, far too many times\n In this same outcome of the selfsame deed\n Have we prevailed above you, dragged you off,\n Railed over you and spoken out our curse\n Of bitterness against your foolish ways\n And ears forever thirsting for abuse.\n Too many times our lips have brewed this draught\n And mixed the gall of laughter with farewell,\n A honeyed mead in truth, a stirrup cup\n To speed you in your folly. Change your ways!\n But if you fall once more within our hands,\n Expect no better fare from us, nor yet\n From her that sent us, whom your seeking eyes\n Shall never look upon again.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[PELLEAS moves slightly. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Etarre!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n Yes, 'tis Etarre! the one sweet word forlorn\n That lies upon your lips like magic seal,\n Like stroke of sorcery and mystic spell\n Awak'ning fever in your blood and brain\n That iron may not chill, nor dungeon tame!\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He goes off. Silence. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS [ moaning ]\n O world! O disillusion!\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ In a sudden passionate outburst ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Black despair,\n Come, cover me with all the shrouds of night!\n [ Silence. FERGUS, attendant on Pelleas, comes over the hill to the right. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n I marked them how they stood upon this hill\n In final converse of an evil deed,\n Here, here upon these trackless, silent slopes\n Within the yellow reaches of the gorse\n Lies Pelleas on prison-bed of thorns,\n Bound with the glowing fetters of the sun.\n O misery, that in his mind should dwell\n Submission unto knaves, the lowered shaft,\n The sunken sword, the battle void and thin.\n Alas the name that rang in other days!\n The knight whose deeds dwelt ever on the lips\n Of others' praises -- how with single hand\n He smote the robbers of the woods and hills\n With keen destruction -- how within the lists\n His spear was fire, a gathered shaft of light,\n His battle-cry the voices of the storm.\n And now his name is overset with growth\n Of dark abuse and shameful calumny,\n And those that should have reeled and sunk to earth\n In red disaster and dark swoon of sense,\n These, even these, mean varlets, thieves, and rogues,\n Drag Pelleas through upland gorse and way\n And throw him like a carcase for the birds!\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He casts about him in the gorse. ]\n In vain: in vain. Oh, would that eyes were made\n To pierce the barriers which hide their goal,\n Or cleave like lightning in a darkened sky,\n Bringing their own fierce strength wherewith to see.\n Here, somewhere here, he lies in bitterness\n With broken mail and battered helmet thrown,\n A useless tool discarded from the hands\n Of little workers fashioning misdeeds.\n Etarre! Etarre! accurs\u00e8d beauteous face\n That shines like fire of madness in his eyes\n And makes his courage falter like a flame;\n Etarre! Etarre! from heaven's utmost height\n May God's unfailing anger strike you down\n And burn that body like a blackened tree!\n May you be fire engulfed with water-floods,\n May you be embers smouldered into death,\n May you be ashes blown across the air!\n I hate you! who are poison in my lips;\n Within my mouth your name runs like a curse,\n A thing to rail against with tongue and teeth.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He comes upon PELLEAS.]\n O mighty master -- fallen, fallen, fallen,\n See, I am here, your servant, nigh at hand\n To raise you up, to loose your helm and mail\n And with fresh water lave your sunken eyes\n And wet your thirsty lips and cheeks and hair.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[PELLEAS moves slightly, groaning. ]\n Midway between the waking sense he swoons.\n Ah, master, fallen master, turn and speak!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Leave me. Depart. I have no wish for you.\n Go, bring me death to minister my needs.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n Death's a false friend, a thief within your tents;\n He'll stab you in your slumber. Cast him out!\n [FERGUS has been busy stooping above Pelleas. He\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0busies himself in loosening the armour while he\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0speaks. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n I'll have no other servant: bring me death.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS [ loosening the helmet ]\n Death's a grim army laying endless siege\n Against the living fortress of the soul.\n Endure, endure; beat back the pressing foe,\n Lift up again your shield above the walls\n In stern defiance. See, I raise you up.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS [ in FERGUS' arms ]\n Leave me, ah, leave me here. My broken strength\n Is fainter than a sunset wind, my mind\n Is dry and empty. -- Do not make me live,\n But leave me, leave me here; Etarre -- \n I saw her not, nor heard her voice, nor felt\n Her anger go across me like a rain.\n God knows, such rain were welcome to my lips!\n Her anger is more sweet than other's praise,\n Her voice is like a wind within the grain,\n A moving swell of wave-like melody.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS [ raising PELLEAS to his feet ]\n Her voice is like the winter moon half seen\n Across the other shoulder, magical -- a curse!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Have you come hither mocking at my grief,\n To cry before me words against Etarre\n And prick my sorrow into festered rage?\n No, leave me, leave me: what avails your heed?\n I may not look upon her eyes again!\n She will not see me, will not grant me speech;\n Her wretched knights perform her word afar,\n And cast me from her. Oh, world, world,\n What cruelty there lies within your breast\n To poison all the milk whereat we suck!\n We are the children of your hate, conceived\n In some dark moment of false passion, born\n In anguish of repentance, things accursed\n For whom you have no mother-love, no care,\n No joy if we be happy, no regret\n If we be clothed in sorrow and in grief.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n Each man, if he be strong, can take the world\n Within the grasping hollows of his hand\n And shape anew the image of his will.\n There is no knight of all this country wide\n Can sit his steed unshaken in the lists\n Against your onset, none that can maintain\n A helm unshorn, and armour unassailed.\n What runes are carven by an evil hand\n Within the iron of your spirit? Wake,\n Throw off the clutch of sleep, the grasp of dreams,\n And blow the wraith of magic into mist\n Of idle vapour. Ah, if I were you,\n My lance should smite the laughter of your foes,\n My wrath should strike them like an angry sea,\n My vengeance scatter them like autumn leaves!\n Ride, ride against them! Snap their strength in twain!\n Go like a curse across this evil land\n And leave behind you weeping in the halls\n And wail of women seeking 'mid the slain\n For their departed lords: and she, the shining snake\n That sits enfolded in your chang\u00e8d heart,\n She, even she, whose castle holds these lands,\n Etarre, the witch of evil, let her die.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n What, is your service changed to blackest gall?\n Is all your heart tormented like your speech\n With envious canker? O ungrateful task\n To lift from earth the children of the dust\n And give the toiling creatures of the plough\n High freedom in a servitude of love.\n Nay, who shall give the oxen of the field\n The battle-steed's high temper, who shall place\n A soul within the body of a slave,\n And waken knighthood stifled in the serf?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n With no sweet ointment of forgiving love\n Will I anoint the heads of those that feed\n Their starving wits on hatred and foul thoughts.\n To them that do you wrong I bear one love,\n The love to see their naked bodies hang\n From windy branches, and their vulture necks\n Engirdled with the swaying, clinging noose.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n God grant you never set your feet within\n The holy circle of knighthood! -- Take me hence.\n For I will wait until my body's harm\n Be grown to match my soul's serenity,\n The high security of my resolve.\n Then shall I find me other ways to seek\n My lady's favour, win her angry heart\n To softer mood of loving.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yet your words\n Are greater than your strength. How would you walk\n Through upland gorse and rough unlevelled way?\n I cannot bear you far, tho' I am fain\n My back would seek the burden.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Search and say\n If with your eyes you mark my loosened steed\n Among the heather ranging; for they came\n And bore me bound thereto. You see him not?\n Go, search the distance with quick feet and bring\n Him hither straight; he has not wandered far.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n Rest here in quiet till I come again\n And wait in patience for my sure return.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 [ He departs. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[PELLEAS stands staring before him in silence. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n I would I were as changeless as the sun\n Who sinks each day into the nether-mist\n And on the morrow mounts above the dawn\n In light undimmed; but I with shaken soul\n Survey the darkness, and with faltering step\n Go down into the countries of the night,\n Not knowing if within another East\n My eyes shall look upon the risen day.\n All, all is dark: the hell-pits of despair\n Gape ever at my feet. Where leads the way\n That brings me to the daylight of her eyes,\n The dawn which is her presence, and the world\n Which is her body's grace, her beauty's orb\n Of circled wonder? Barred and double barred!\n There is no oaken shaft can break this port,\n No twisted hook to catch the bolt aside.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ Silence .]\n O s\u00e9rene sun, alone and pitiless,\n How mocking is the glitter of thy beams!\n Meseems thou art the laughter of the world\n Made visible, contemptuous disdain\n Wherewith all nature frames the race of man.\n O shadow stretched before me on the ground,\n What thing art thou, with what fidelity\n Art thou my steadfast comrade? Is't thy wish\n That binds thee, or a dread necessity?\n Art thou my soul, an unsubstantial thing\n Knit to me while the sun of life shall last?\n The sun's a mockery, and life a lure!\n Go! I release thee from thy servitude;\n Thou canst not love me who am no man's friend.\n Here in the world I stand alone. Go forth,\n My soul, my shadow; seek a happier land\n And leave this wretched body to fulfil\n Unequal combat with a grudging fate\n And so go down to death, all purposeless.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He becomes aware of GAWAINE approaching. ]\n What knight is this that stands upon the hill?\n Is this some foe to plague my restless life,\n Some novel torment wrought against my love?\n He moves alone, an armoured knight, afoot\n Within these reaches of untrodden wild.\n How came he here? Why moves he without steed\n In painful toil beneath his armour's press?\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[GAWAINE enters. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Long have I sought you, wayfaring alone.\n In visionary speech with three, I gained\n Strange knowledge and strange biddings to fulfil.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Knight, if on wrathful deed your steps be turned,\n Let not your pride so wander from its ways\n That it o'erstride itself and seek the dark\n Of high self-confidence and vaunting word.\n Fulfil your bidding, add your little stroke\n Of evil action, yet at heart know well\n By no necessity of fallen strength\n I yield my honour to your lesser sword.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n You shall not find the hungry bird of hate\n Upon my shield engraven, with fierce claws\n Tearing the world asunder.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Are you not\n Of them that loathe me at my lady's will\n And their own coward hearts' high jealousy?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n I am of Arthur's court. I come in need\n To succour knighthood, as our king enjoins\n Upon the glorious order of his knights.\n I know not who you are nor with what wrong\n Pent up by men's ill-will and jealous hate.\n Yet three there were who spoke in visioned speech\n And by their power on heaven's high elements\n Conveyed my hither.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0O belov\u00e8d sound,\n The speech of knighthood in this wretched land,\n The light of honour risen in the dark\n Of shameless men and unrepentant deeds!\n Pelleas I am: my spear has held the prize\n In many tourneys made in many lands.\n Much have I heard and loved your noble king.\n The name of Arthur is a silver star\n Of truth and equity; in faultless strength\n The sword of chivalry gleams there aloft,\n A vision unto men, a creed for faith.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n And I am Gawaine, of the king's high court,\n Come hither from the walls of Camelot.\n The fame of Pelleas has pierced the dark\n Of distance, with the light of far renown\n For tourney's wreath, and battle's blameless meed.\n Our noble order knows no nobler knight.\n What fateful force of men iniquitous\n Or deed self-willed has brought you, armed and lone,\n To stand upon the broom's flower-gilded heights\n And gaze across the stretch of wind and sun\n On warring wastes where no man's hand is set\n Compulsive o'er the unwilling growth of fields?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Alas, this tale runs back among the years\n And far beyond the present sight attains\n Its first awakening.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yet would I hear.\n I seek adventure and I strive to bring\n Knighthood's redemption into creedless lands.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n On word there is, which shuts and opens wide\n The doors of all my deeds and all my thoughts:\n It is a sign wherewith to clothe my soul\n In courage linked from bright security;\n It is a charm\u00e8d ring, a circled rune,\n A treasure-stone of wizardry -- Etarre!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n The name I know not, but am fain to hear\n This mystic potency, enfolded deep\n Within a word's soft-sounding innocence.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n If you would hear, and track the winding speech\n Through courts of men and castles set anigh,\n I have no need to hide on lying lips\n The truth wherefrom my knighthood gets its shame.\n So hearken: -- in the eager days long since,\n I know not how far back, for memory stands\n In helpless failure at the count of time\n So wretched and so slow to drag away,\n Perhaps ten years are flown, enough to fill\n A stripling youth's advance to manly state, -- \n Long time, long time, how long ago it seems -- \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Nay, well I know the adverse wind of fate\n Clouds all the backward years and hides the sun\n Of memory in a grey forgetfulness;\n The past becomes a lost and distant land\n Where once we moved and shall not move again.\n But for your story. -- Speak, and tell the tale.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Magic of forge and steel and crucible\n Had wrought a sword; by whose hand, no one knew;\n 'Twas thought the workers of the hills had steeped\n Their fires in incantation and had made\n This sword to be a gift to mortal child,\n A king's son of the western isles, who died.\n Golden the hilt, alight with ruddy glow;\n Thereon engraved, in token of its gift,\n \"The son of Ork. Be strong and hold me fast.\"\n Now, when the king's son died, his father called\n A mighty tourney in the land and set\n This sword as guerdon to the winning arm.\n And many came and made their name be cried\n Within the tourney, and King Arthur's knights\n Were gathered, ten or twelve, and Kay was there\n (Him whom they call the Seneschal), Sir Tor,\n And many others. So the joust was made.\n Great ladies, queens and nobly born, beheld;\n And one there was whose eyes were like a fire\n Within my heart, and ever as I strove\n Her beauty shone about me like a star,\n And in mine ears I heard a crying voice,\n And felt a throbbing of unmeasured strength\n Which of my body made its minister\n To triumph in the tourney. So I fought,\n And over all prevailed.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then you are grown\n A giant from the strength of lesser men;\n The hard-wrought prowess of each vanquished name\n Like hound that changes master comes to you\n To aid you in the quest for fame, and swell\n The cry of hunting.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In my hands they set\n The tourney's meed, the gleaming hilt of gold\n That clasped the flash of steel; upon my head\n The golden circlet clung. And I, forthwith,\n Rode down the lists, and passed with heedless eyes\n The rang\u00e8d queens, and at the shining feet\n Of one more fair than kingly daughter cast\n The golden circle, royal crown of love\n And adoration; but with mocking hands\n She flung it from her, high above the heads\n Of those who sat about her, that it fell\n Within the dust and turmoil of the lists.\n And many there cried out with jealous speech\n And wrought her shame, until I made be known\n That I would prove her every act and word\n Against their gathered spears: thereat they ceased.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Strange tale it is, yet not too hard to read.\n She loved a lesser knight and with sure strength\n Spurned proffered homage of his vanquisher.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Nay, in that quiet heart of hers there beats\n No blood of passion. Dark indifference\n With sluggish stream mounts ever in her veins.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n What came of this?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Into her rightful land\n I followed her; and there I still abide.\n Against the sky of my desires and deeds\n There stands, with distant battlements agleam,\n The castle of Etarre, undimmed, unchanged,\n While over me the seasons spend their wrath\n And men work out their hate; yet I prevail.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n What brought you here alone and without steed?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n The hands of men across the thorny wild.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n In anger, or by your own spoken wish?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n In anger done, yet by another's will.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Why seek to hide the need? Within a glass\n I saw a knight whom other three unbound\n From belly of a steed, and with rude strength\n Dragged far across the barren fields of gold.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Ah, I am shamed forever in your sight.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n True knighthood never sleeps with naked shame,\n And though he share her hovel leaves therein\n No children of ill fame. Your courage shines\n Through all the shrouds of dark ign\u00f3miny.\n Pure spirits cannot err.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0O noble creed,\n That brings the eye to witness, not to judge\n Ask what you will.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I ask your present need,\n And give you service of my sword and spear.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Strength will not ease the tightened cord of hate,\n 'Tis drawn too high above an earthly reach.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n The sword of courage and the spear of truth\n May yet avail. Who were these wretched three\n And by what order moved?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The self-same word:\n It is a light for knowledge.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Speak! Etarre?\n And is it she who brings you into wrong?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Because I may not live sans sight of her\n I ride against her knights in mimic fray\n And suffer them to make me prisoner\n That I may come before my lady's eyes\n To look upon her countenance and hear\n The wonder of her speech. In wrath alway\n She cries against me and commands her knights\n To cast me into dungeon or to set\n The brand of shame across my fallen shield\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Were those her men that wrought you this despite?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Her will through others moving, cast me here.\n And now the last sweet flower of hope is dead,\n Trod under by her foot. The autumn grows\n And winter creeps along the leafless cold,\n With mortal fingers plucking branch and twig\n And blowing harsh against the feeble strength\n Which is the life of man and beast and flower.\n My hope is dead; I shall not see it more.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n If hope through snow and chill of winter love\n Has ever blossomed in your heart, and spread\n Its balm of perfume through your wounded soul,\n 'Twill reach its flower once more against the sky\n To catch the sunlight in its chaliced cup\n And nurture trustless sorrow into confidence.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n This is the last; beyond this utmost bound\n Nought further lies: love, life, all, all at end!\n She will not suffer me her presence' grace,\n But strikes me from afar with other hands.\n To-day, I saw her not; her worthless knaves\n Fulfilled her final anger, bringing word\n More bitter than their curses and their blows.\n \"O fool,\" they said, \"our lady whom we serve\n Bids us to tell you that until she die\n She will not look upon your loath\u00e8d form\n Nor hear your wretched pleading.\" So they spoke,\n And dragged me hither with full jest and jeer.\n Accurst be all the forces in me pent\n That out of shattered nody, darkened brain,\n Build up anew the empery of life,\n The realm with I must rule, unwilling king\n Of citizens that hold me prisoner\n Within the palace of my self. Have end,\n O dreadful powers working in the dark;\n Have end, and let me die!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nay, live, and love!\n Or if you may not love, then hate; but live!\n Life is a present moment, a shifting point\n That moves from nothing into nothing; where it is,\n There is the world, the beating pulsing world\n With all its marvel of a felt design.\n Stretch out your hand and snare the fleeting point;\n Then have you all the world within your grasp.\n Live, live, and I will aid you in your quest.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n What can you do? For many a month and year\n I dreamed that love would waken in her breast.\n A fool, I dreamed that mortal will could guide\n Love the immortal, Love the uncompelled, --\n From impious effort gaining due reward,\n Sadness of heart, bruised limbs, and shattered faith.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Is there no gentler word which I may speak?\n May I not plead before her, win her heart\n To softer ways and kindlier moods?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In vain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n May I not say she has misjudged, has scorned\n That which no queen may purchase with her crown,\n A lover's worship, gift of gifts?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In vain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Then let us find some subtler web to catch\n Her fleeting love and bring it to your lips.\n If she be mortal, she shall yet be yours;\n If pity stir within her, let us make\n A staff of pity; if within her dwell\n A woman's worship of high deeds and thoughts,\n Then let us make high thoughts and deeds our scrip\n To help us in our quest; if fear of death\n Live in her body, death shall be our shoon\n Wherewith to walk; if dreams of love\n E'er stir the curtains of her sleep, then love\n Shall be a cloak and clothe us from the rain.\n Pity, high deeds, and love, and fear of death,\n Shall be to us cloak, shoon, and scrip, and staff,\n And from her we'll get alms.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In vain! in vain!\n You would with naked strength and covered wiles\n Beget from hatred tears, from loathing love.\n I tell you, not with open pomp and power\n Love enters in. There is a world unseen\n Wherein our passions live, and come and go\n When no eye marks them. In the world of sense\n Our words and deeds have puissance, and the earth\n Trembles before our coming; blown with pride\n We stretch our sceptres toward that other world\n And lo, the wand whereat earth's kingdoms shook\n Stands idle in our hand, a gilded stem.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n And yet Etarre shall love you; grief and fear\n Are masters of the soul, and work their will.\n Love is their servant; they but clap their hands\n And he appears. Give me your knighthood's trust\n And by my knighthood's faith I swear to you,\n Etarre shall love you.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0O mistaken creed!\n Is love a hound that walks within the leash?\n Too long, too long in folly I maintained,\n Seeking to win her love. Love comes not thus.\n We know not when nor wherefore, we have seen\n No shadow fall across our steps, nor heard\n His mystic footfall; yet we raise our eyes\n And lo, he stands before us, garbed in white,\n Triumphant, with a light upon his brows.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Nay, call him and he'll come, a willing slave.\n God gave him unto men, that men might be.\n Hearken and heed: your shield and helm and sword\n Shall change with mine. So armed, and with a steed,\n Will I approach the castle where Etarre\n Holds state aloof.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What then? She'll love me more\n Because you hold my arms?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nay, hate you less.\n Death breaks in twain the stubborn plant of wrath\n And treads to earth its growth and jealous fruit;\n He lays his finger on the lips of hate,\n And anger stands with saddened eyes downcast\n Before his presence. In the camps of war\n He binds proud nations with a chain of tears,\n And with a mound of earth builds emperies.\n Etarre shall hear my words of bitter weal\n And think you dead. Thereat her brow will change\n And all her nature be suffused with grief;\n Th' unshaken headland of her wrath shall sink\n Within a sea of tears. With sudden ray\n Illumined, she shall see life's large expanse\n Move like a landless ocean, vast and void.\n So will her heart be caught with sudden love\n And she shall hate me, and against my name\n Cry murderer. Her body's burning light\n Shall languish in the sable cloth of grief,\n Affliction's gloomy cloak; her cheeck shall pale\n With wan reflection, like the moon that broods\n Too much upon the splendour of the sun.\n Then will I cry her pardon of my fault,\n Confess you living, till the glad blood leap\n Through all her veins and mantle in her brow.\n She shall give thanks to Heaven's holy power\n That held you safe; to all, she shall proclaim\n You loved and dear; and she shall bid me go\n To seek you out and bring you to her arms.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n So, with the breath of falsehood you would blow\n Love, like a wooden vane that points the wind?\n The gust of truth will veer it straight once more!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n The winds must change; the north must yield to south,\n The breath of snow be melted by the spring,\n And hate must falter at undoubting love.\n Give me your shield and sword, and let me fare.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Shall love's high course be furthered by deceit,\n Blessed by false words and hastened by false wiles,\n And crooked path lead straighter to the goal?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Yet paths that cannot scale a naked cliff\n May find soft slopes to guide a sure ascent\n On other sides. What matter for the turn?\n Give me your shield and sword, and let me fare.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n I will not. 'Tis by other ways I seek\n To win her pure truth and faultless love.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Are you a fisher who with straining net\n Enmeshes ocean prey, and at the last\n When silver fishes struggle in his grasp\n Throws back his booty to the waiting sea?\n The years with eyes of pity have looked down\n Upon you, and in restless flight o'erhead\n Paused for a moment with a prophecy\n Of other years to come.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And now?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And now\n The time is here with open-handed gift,\n And you would spurn it! Oh, how vain are thoughts!\n They have no more reality than mist\n Which sunlight scatters: 'tis the deed that is .\n Three days, and you shall lie within the clasp\n Of golden arms and hear from burning lips\n Love's true confessional, the marriage night.\n Will you then doubt she loves you? Will you smite\n Her mouth and call her lips a liar's tool\n And cast her from you? What shall matter then\n The means whereby we strove and wrought, and gained\n This loved reality, this goal of all your thoughts?\n If she be brought to love you, then she loves,\n And on it there's no doubt.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But in my heart\n Doubt raises tumult like an angry sea.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n A stormless sky shall lay its waves at rest.\n Etarre shall love you, by my word and truth!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n O fond belief, that wings the heart\n As feather to a bird new-born\n Wherewith to leave the nest of pain\n And seek the lands of gold!\n Give me your oath of knightly faith\n That you are herald in this act,\n Not wooer.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For that jealous word\n I give you pardon.\n [ He stretches out his hands and touches PELLEAS'\n sword .]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hilt and bar and blade\n Be record of my oath; sunlight and wind\n Maintain it; honour keep it fast. I swear\n By Arthur's knighthood shining in the skies\n Of false enchantment and black cowardice,\n If I be found unfaithful, changeful, false,\n May my bare through feel this unsheath\u00e8d blade,\n May I be cast for ever from the light!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Across despair's black-vaulted firmament\n Your words have moved refulgent like a star\n Which angels hurl from heaven to guide men's steps\n On stormy nights through treacherous foul ways.\n Words lie too lightly on the lips of man\n That I with words could thank you.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He loosens his helm. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Take my helm,\n And here my shield.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The sword--?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I cannot give.\n \"Be strong and hold me fast,\" so runs the rune.\n Through dungeon keep, through false defeat, foul hands,\n And knaves' dark roguery, the rhyme has wrought;\n Unharmed the sword abides. Take shield and helm,\n Therefrom the tale has evidence enough.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[FERGUS appears over the hill. ]\n And here at time's full flood my servant comes,\n Called by the present need, -- and yet, alone;\n Wherein our need is desolate. He went\n To seek a mount, yet comes with empty zeal.\n [FERGUS at sight of GAWAINE stops, alarmed. Reassured\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 by GAWAINE'S attitude and bearing, he advances. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Armed and afoot, I cannot far proceed.\n Yon castle on the deep horizon's rim\n Beckons and nods with greeting from afar\n In vain civility. Stands nowhere nigh\n Some hermitage whence I may find a steed?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n My man-at-arms knows well this waste of land.\n He shall inform us. \u00a0\u00a0[ To FERGUS] So, in idle quest\n You sought?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sir Pelleas, the steed I found.\n He waits beyond the slant of yonder rise.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n What mock of service have you hid herein?\n I bade you lead him hither.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0How? with wings?\n He cannot mount the sudden sheer ascent;\n But thither I can bear you, where he waits.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Then thither lead Sir Gawaine.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shall he ride\n And you remain?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shall squires-at-arms protest\n When knights hold counsel?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Good sir knight, oft time\n The fool's hid wisdom guides the king aright,\n The jester's bells sit steadier than the crown.\n I guard my lord and master from deceit.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n I pray you pardon him, a faithful servant,\n Who errs too much in serving and in faith.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ To FERGUS]\n Sir Gawaine goes to plead before Etarre,\n And win me favour.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Favour in love's cause\n Is not a ring to slip on other's hand.\n The pleader pleads but for himself.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0O vile,\n O base earth-born, were you my serving man\n Red stripes should leap across your quivering back;\n The dogs should laugh at you and loll their tongues\n To see you lower fallen than themselves!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Sir Gawaine, pardon. Much adversity,\n On me descended, has made dark his mind.\n He probes forever in suspicious depths,\n And where he thinks to find an enemy,\n His very soul drips poison and his words\n Are but the distillations of his thoughts,\n The gathered fumes and acids of his brain.\n He shall repent and serve you loyally.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Then let me go forthwith and seek the steed,\n And so depart. My helm and shield I leave\n In pledged exchange. When twice the sun has set\n And twice arisen, messenger shall come\n And big you to the castle of Etarre.\n Till then, farewell.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0God speed the ventured aim.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n And you, O master, what of you alone,\n Wearied and hungered on the shadeless hills?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Go seek for me from distant hermitage\n Another steed. By sun-down be returned\n And bear my hence at last.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Farewell.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Farewell.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[FERGUS and GAWAINE depart. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n [ alone, watching the two move across the brow of the hill ]\n So fare, my heart's adventure, so fare well.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 CURTAIN \n \n \n \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 ACT TWO \n \n SCENE: A room in the Castle of ETARRE.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tapestries upon the walls. The late afternoon\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0sun streams in through a solitary window. Its\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0shaft of light falls full upon ETARRE, who sits\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0before a loom set in a recess. She is working\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0at a tapestry, now nearly finished. A maid,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 AILEEN, attends her. \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n And one more colour to enrich his crest.\n Shall it be scarlet?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Would not blue lie well?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n It shall be scarlet. He shall flash and burn\n Like dew sun-kindled with a thousand sheens.\n Where hangs the scarlet thread?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Here at the wing\n From this last dripping stain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The sun a-mist\n On autumn afternoons so stains the world;\n A noble colour for a crested plume.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n Yet blue were softer.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0You are bitten deep\n With this sea-madness; in your own blue eyes\n Nought's fair that is not blue.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The world's a-drip\n With red and crimson, or you like it not.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n But, look you, I have reason in my choice,\n For red's the fairer colour. There is nought so brave\n As scarlet banners or a crimson sky.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n For them that like it. But the blue of streams\n On summer afternoons 'neath summer skies\n Gladdens my heart with deep and pure content.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n And one lone spray of hooded red in flower\n Cries louder than the murmur of your streams,\n The quiet of your skies. They are fancy-poor\n Who love not red.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And false of heart\n Who love not blue.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ Sings. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Love came to me in kirtle red,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0(Honour's false and Faith is dead);\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Came again in kirtle blue\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0(Honour's fair and Faith is true).\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n You're quick in mocking me with children's rhyme.\n Make me a rhyme to mock this rainbow bird\n Whose crest is finished. How he sweeps and flies!\n Come, I'll begin it.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ Sings ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0On the wind there flies a bird;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He is come from distant shores,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From the dawn's unopened doors\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To the western gates unstirred.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In his wing\u00e8d flight there run\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Colours of the setting sun.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Do you end the song.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN [ singing ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Eyes and lips and sweet desires\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Are but feathers for his wings,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Burning love the song he sings;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0All thy hope and thought are fires\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Giving light unto his eyes;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Life and youth,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Beauty, truth,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Are the strength wherewith he flies.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Snowy breast and golden hair\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Are but plumes for him to wear.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He shall sing a summer's day,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Clap his wings, away, away.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Ill caught. You've made your bird too like to Time,\n The raven dark who speeds across the world,\n And dressed him in fine colours like a daw\n Which steals strange ornament.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN [ singing ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Silken raiment wherein dressed\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Beauty shimmers half divine,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Glint of jewels, rare and fine,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Are but colours for his crest,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Crimson colours for his wings;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hark! 'tis love whereof he sings!\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Brave and gay, a summer's day,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ere he flies away, away.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I like it not.\n It troubles me with some half-dreamed lament,\n An unknown broken promise, I know not\n To whom, nor for what purpose, made. Poor bird\n Here woven on the loom, thou are maligned!\n Thou art pure fancy of mine inmost dreams,\n Not touched with these gross images of earth.\n Thy colours are imperishable light\n Caught from the steadfast sun and held secure.\n Thou'lt never fly away, but here remain\n To be mine eye's interpreter of joy,\n To hang upon my castle walls, and sing\n Thy crimson colours in sheer ecstasy.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n Ay, let him live in silken thread and woof;\n There is a bird which flies from mortal grasp.\n Most fair he is, to perch upon our wrist\n With flashing colours, and from sunlit throat\n Pour forth his flooding heart's high melodies.\n In every word you speak, he trills and sings;\n In every motion of your hand, he moves\n With wings aflutter; in your brightening eyes\n He lives triumphant: oh, beware, beware;\n Too soon he's gone, and in the dusk and chill\n No nightingale shall waken into song.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n What mean you? Life and Youth and Happiness?\n I have them in sweet surfeit.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And of love?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n How many times did I forbid his name\n And cast him from my highest battlement?\n With subtle track you turn upon my words\n And lead me toward that monstrous loathing, hid\n In all your thoughts. Shall I not be content\n With golden solitude, that I must bind\n Love's naked body to my car of dreams?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n A maiden's eyes, a maiden's wise,\n The open gates of paradise.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n What mask of rhyme holds revel in your brain\n That you make mock of me?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n A loveless fate, and Eden's gate\n Is barred with double sword of hate.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Have done! have done!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n Flame that burns not, stream that flows not,\n Maid that loves not, Eden knows not.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n This is an old wives' song, a ragged cloth\n With halting stitches sewn in knotted thread,\n And you would clothe me with it like a queen!\n I am content with life; you'd stir the stream\n To waters turbid as the floods in spring.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n I pray for love's awakening, to end\n This dream that hides its own poor solitude\n In deep illusion of a soulless life.\n My heart can do no more.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Not more, yet less,\n And cease to weary me with hopes and tears.\n Your tongue moves ever in the wells of speech\n Drawing new wonders to the light of day;\n And chief there-mid ther curling snake of love\n Winds envious through all your words. Have done.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[MARIS enters. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n And here comes one to guide you in your ways,\n To steep your heart in cold indifference,\n And marble every living pulse and vein.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n I pray you, give me a moment's grace, to cross\n Your silken fancy with rough thread of care.\n I have been troubled with much thought of late;\n Our silent halls have heard my pacing step\n And stared in dark displeasure, matching frown\n Of sullen stone to sullen brow of thought.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Has Care thrown nets within my castle-yard\n Or brought us siege? We'll catch him prisoner\n And show him forth. Speak on, lay bare his haunt;\n Pull down his hiding place and hale him out.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n Your eyes have seen him, many a day that's past.\n He will not be gainsayed, but comes again\n With unstilled clamour to our quiet walls.\n He carries armour like a knight, has shield,\n A spear, a sword, yet will no battle bear;\n We drag him out and cast him to the wilds,\n Where nature tends him with her healing dew\n And dries him with the sunshine and the wind.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Pelleas.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The orbed and golden fire of day\n With no more steadfast pace in heaven's track\n Returns to us: yet one gives light and warmth,\n The other is a flame within our fields\n That must be quenched.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Flame quenches flame, but sword\n Can cut it not.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Here's parable enough\n To quench the very sun in ignorance\n And cloud the light of reason in our brains.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Her idle speech yields up its idle tale:\n To all her riddles waits a single key,\n A key which I have dropped in blackest moat.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n You've carved a rune to clear a parable.\n Your words are like a flight of wing\u00e8d birds\n Crossing from sea to sea above my head;\n I watch them pass, yet know not where they go.\n But as for Pelleas, we'll speak of him;\n He has a malady which eats his life\n Like rain upon a sword-blade, turning steel\n From flash and splendour into edgeless rust;\n Deeper and deeper sinks the water-drop\n Till all's corroded and the biting teeth\n Of slow destruction meet from either side.\n And such a sword is worthless unto men,\n Fit for quick burial. In short word and brief,\n For Pelleas I come, to counsel death.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n You'd have me slay him!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Overstepped indeed!\n He runs with too great fury.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shall my name\n Be joined with murder's most ignoble rout\n And brought to silence?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Not in cruelty\n I come. There are some souls so weighed with life,\n So deep in sorrow, so oppressed with ill,\n That death comes like a prison-keeper kind\n To strike away the chains of their captivity.\n The holy Church's covenant of hell and heaven\n Is but a prophecy of that unmeasured dark\n Wherein the dead find sustenance and life;\n And men in their last hour come down unto the strand\n With all earth's hills behind them, and the level sea\n Ready for new emprise unknown and unexplored.\n Death is the hand that sends them from the shore,\n And death the wind that swells within their sails.\n And unto them that walk with leaden eyes\n Viewless and vacant as the staring blind\n Through life's harsh country, weary and despaired,\n To them, you call it cruelty and hate\n To give them vision of th' eternal sea\n Which leads into th' unknown? Oh, be assured\n That Mercy, queen of heaven, with backward grasp\n Beneath her grey-starred gown holds fast a sword,\n And unto some poor souls, in gift of gifts,\n Brings not fine balsam, but the edge of death.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n What charge is this; am I then merciful?\n Did mercy move me through the days and weeks\n Of his imprisonment, when he was cast\n To sleep among the nettled dungeon-holds\n And pray for sunbeams in a lightless pit?\n Did mercy move me when with jest and jeer\n You dragged him in the dust of horses' hoofs\n Or cast him in the sight of beast and bird\n To be their mockery? Freedom I sought.\n Slaves can be cruel, and I was worse than slave,\n Tormented with the thought that I was strong\n And he was weak, yet he with all his cries\n Made day a nightmare, and within my breast\n Dried up the wells of pity. Idle hope\n That I should turn against myself, and walk\n On paths of mercy!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Slay him and be free.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Slay him, and hear the owl at nightfall cry,\n And watch the rooks, wind-blown above the towers,\n Circle and caw, while all with self-same voice\n Say \"Murderer?\" Slay him, and think the dew\n Is born of lamentation, and the wind\n Is come on wings funereal and wild\n To scream for vengeance from the fiends of hell?\n Slay him, you say, and watch the lips of men\n Curdle against me, till my frenzied hands\n Are clapped above mine ears to hide the sound\n Of spoken evil? O unhappy, I,\n Laden with unpremeditated wrong\n Which will not alter. Oh, unhappy grief!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n How changed is your contentment, torn aside\n To bare the inner sorrow of unrest.\n Oh, leave these false pursuings; be at ease\n With woven pictures and imagined scenes\n And make not real the dreams of tragedy.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Dreams, dreams, false shadows, phantoms thoughts,\n How I am wearied of their flapping wings\n Across the twilight of imagined worlds!\n There is a change within me of new hours\n And other suns; I could be kind or cruel\n With unsuspected tenderness and hate.\n There's something born within me, great and strange,\n A child of impulse, wakened in my veins.\n I'll have no more of dreams; come take this loom\n And set it forth to other hands. And now\n We'll hearken, Maris, to your deathly plaint.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n I wish you were not wrought of changeful mood.\n But late, you spoke of solitude's content\n And wove yourself a golden web of dreams,\n And now you're torn it like a tangled fly\n Within a spider's mesh that's spun too weak.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Too weak it was; I've torn it with a word.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n And with a word rebuilt it many a time.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n The spider's dead; he'll weave no more. And now\n We'll listen, Maris, to your plea of hate.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n 'Tis not in hate I urge it. Well you know\n I bear no hate to mightier knights than I.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n And well you know I loathe your Pelleas\n And turn all praise of him to darker speech.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n Still darker speech has gone abroad, to stain\n The honour of Etarre and all her knights.\n There is a tale now told in other halls,\n And false it rings, and yet, alas, is true.\n It tells of one lone knight who puts to scorn\n Dungeon and steel, a foe who will not fight\n Yet always conquers. Men speak hard of you\n And call you vampire, sucking might and power\n From lovelorn men. If this continues on,\n Before the year's end Camelot will hear,\n For Arthur's knights ride fast through all this land.\n If you would keep untarnished light of fame,\n This Pelleas must vanish from the land,\n And mouths of men gape empty of ill words.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n And if they know I slew him?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Not by guile;\n By open battle in the sight of men.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n And who is there in all this land of mine\n To battle with Sir Pelleas?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Even I.\n For he is fallen from his ancient strength\n Till I and he are grown one force in arms.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n And if he slay you?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then my cause is lost;\n I bear the sorrow.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0If he will not fight?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0MARIS\n We'll give him open choice to fight or die\n And love of you will guide him in his choice.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n And then he'd slay you! I have seen his spear\n Go down the lists and ravish charging steeds\n Of their proud burden. I have seen his sword\n Shear crest and helm, and leap through buckled steel.\n He'd slay you, slay you, and with eager cry\n Come throw himself before me, plead for love.\n No; other ways there are wherein men die,\n And I, the vampire of the strength of men, \n Shall know a better counsel.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ A horn is heard. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hark, a horn!\n Go bring me news. Return with every speed.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 [MARIS goes out. ]\n Look from the window; is there aught to see?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n The sinking light of day on field and moor,\n A flight of birds, the moving heads of grain,\n The leaves ashiver on the trees; nought else.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n What meant that horn? Is Pelleas returned\n And have my knights brought me but empty words,\n Boasting completion of the unfulfilled?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n It cannot be. Some other danger calls;\n For Pelleas is cast upon the hills\n And comes not riding with imperious haste\n Of new adventure.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Year and threefold year\n Unvisited of danger, I have held\n Communion with the change of day and night;\n Wrapped in the quiet of a warless land\n I have forgotten ravaging and death,\n As one who inland dwelling on the hills\n Forgets the loud-tongued clamour of the sea\n And thinks to measure fierceness of all storms\n By that weak wind that plays upon the moor,\n Forgetting all the wrack and thund'rous surge\n Which sweeps to ruin: on a sudden day\n He comes unto the cliffs and hears the sea,\n The menace of the waters holding guard\n Before the portals of the earth. So I.\n And here is war with brazen throat and strong\n Come crying at my door, and I have slept.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n Here is no tramping of the hoofs of war;\n Some messenger on peaceful journey bent\n Craves food and shelter, giving in return\n The last hot news of joust at Camelot\n And feast of Arthur's knights, the noble tales\n Of battle unto giant and to dwarf\n In magic wood and isle snake-habited;\n Fen-dwelling sorcerers and craggy fiends;\n The last sad word of knights no more returned;\n Court-news and scandal, like a spider's thread\n That waves in th' wind, seeking whereon to build.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Whate'er it be, my warders stand at guard\n In quick restraint lest any enter in,\n And unexpected come, and unannounced.\n Where's Maris that he waits so long?\n [GAWAINE enters, with helm and shield of PELLEAS.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The visor is down. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Who's here?\n Pelleas? Quick, help me! call for Maris! help!\n Help, Balarin and Avran, Erse, and Dane!\n Is no one here to help me, none to come?\n O treachery outdark'ning all belief!\n What! none, not one, -- one man to bring me help?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n He dare not so assail you! If he come,\n I'll cast myself against him, break his path,\n And hamper him till you be fled.\n [GAWAINE stands unmoved, leaning upon his shield. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What! still?\n No motion, no advance to pluck me hence?\n You're harrier and I the song-bird caught,\n And you leave sheathed your claws? What, great of heart,\n You dare so come, and offer me, not death, --\n No! that's too little for your hungry soul! --\n But kindness and a sword that holds its sheath?\n You dare so stand before me, raise no hand\n To bring me hurt? You dare humility?\n O impudence that mocks my woman's strength\n And spurns all vengeance, every stroke of sword!\n You've slain my knights or caught them with some trick,\n You've made me here defenceless to your might,\n And now you stand before me dumb and still\n And speak no word and raise no awful hand.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n Shall I bring aid, go search the battlements,\n Call every serf from labour, strip the fields?\n He will not dare assail you.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Here abide.\n I need not man's assistance; woman's will\n And woman's word borrow an unknown strength\n When wrong's at issue. Here, in last defence,\n You stand on trial, plead a mortal cause\n Before an unrelenting judge. Have care\n Of every moving word and springing phrase\n Lest they o'ertip the balance with false weight.\n Much have I found of blame and heavy fault:\n A restless spirit walking in the night,\n His mantle blown by gust of unseen winds\n Across the darkness toward the home of storms\n Where stars and sun are hidden; so he moves,\n Wild-eyed with some new vision drawn aghast;\n And this is he who makes my life a curse,\n Pelleas, the knight; for him make your defence!\n What! not an outburst of an injured love?\n Are not those furnaces of passion stirred\n That shone so ruddy in the dark of hate,\n That burned upon the hill-tops of abuse\n Like beacon fires, those furnaces of love\n That once consumed your soul to ashen drift\n And made you like a coal that's burnt to th' end?\n What! not a word? no, not a single word?\n Is all your life's endeavour stricken dumb?\n Then hark; for them that will not plead their cause\n Judgement is given. You have sinned too much\n To keep the water's surface; lead, and more than lead,\n Drags at your body, and the stream's quick flood\n Closes above you, who are judged and damned.\n A thousand ways you've found in your offence:\n Your shadow has been dark on all my paths,\n A fiery shadow burning grass and herb.\n You've eaten out the petals of my life\n And strewn my happiness like withered leaves\n On autumn walks; you've been the wind and rain\n To hold me prisoner beneath my roof\n Longing in vain for sunlight and clear skies.\n You've sinned too much against me, you have moved\n A hundred feet beneath my castle walls\n And with huge shoulders shaken keep and tower;\n You've caught the lightning on the barren wild\n And driven it against me like a hound;\n For like the stroke of earthquake underground\n Or bolt of errant flame across the night,\n So have you shaken me and burned my sight,\n So have you cast my life in monstrous ruin\n And blackened all the walls of strength and love.\n For this you have no penitence, no grief,\n But are returned like hawk upon his flight\n To seek anew the victim you have struck;\n But I am changed to poison-throated snake\n With deadly venom poised upon my tongue\n And all my body tense in gathered coil;\n No harmless serpent of the fens am I,\n But an undreamed and deadly throat of pain;\n I call you to that sombre house of rest\n Wherein all men must while eternally.\n I have been bitter; drunken deep in words\n I have assailed you; now I speak no more.\n Prepare you for your death. I seek my knights.\n [GAWAINE raises the bar of his helmet. ETARRE starts aghast. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n There is no need. I am not Pelleas.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n What knight are you? Oh, speak, how came you here?\n What dark intent of silence led you in?\n What will you of me? Are you rapine's hand\n Or stroke of vengeance, war's untimely sword,\n Some miracle of quick disaster sprung\n From seed unplanted? Speak!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Gawaine am I,\n Knight of King Arthur's Court, of royal kith.\n Deception's mask no guiltier purpose hides\n Than from your love and anger to extort\n A knowledge in each mood of praise of blame\n And learn if I win favour for my deed.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n What deed? You've slain my knights?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They are unharmed.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Are they not stricken and not captive bound?\n Do men-at-arms still hold their watch and guard?\n How came you here? Were all my servants false?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Smooth words and promise of high recompense,\n An oath of loyalty unto your cause,\n A servitor of yours that knew my face\n In other days and other lands -- no more;\n These were enough to gain my entrance here.\n Your servants sought to serve you as they could,\n Thinking to win new favour through my aid.\n Deal not too harshly with them, but on me\n Turn all the passion of your fit rebuke.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n I have no heart to child a noble knight\n Well known in Caerleon's court. But answer me,\n This shield so quartered, see, I know it well,\n Yon helm with the green plume half caught aside,\n These are of Pelleas.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From him I took them.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n You've slain him or made him prisoner?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Not made him prisoner.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then slain?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yea, slain.\n In battle smitten to the final breath.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Dead, Pelleas! Now let the hooded sun\n Break forth in splendour, let the golden moors\n Proclaim thanksgiving from a thousand flowers!\n Oh, I am as the earth, with winter bowed,\n Who sudden feels the weight of snow and frost\n With one great stroke from his twain shoulders cast,\n And leaps unto his feet, and calls for Spring.\n For I had taken resolution dread,\n And death was all about me, lithe and dark,\n To haunt my footsteps and in silent halls\n Afflict my purpose with the nightmare forms\n Which Horror views with shuddering lidless eyes\n Or with fixed stare pursues. Join exultation\n And be aroused to song, my silent heart;\n We are of much relieved, our troubled days\n That were as night's dark pall of mist and cloud,\n Are turned to smoke upcurling in the sun,\n And vanish in the clear expanse of light.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Have you no pity, are you carved of stone?\n This is unholy so to cry and sing,\n To whet rejoicing on the steel of death.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Is it unholy for the wanderer\n Through night's black pitfalls and most secret lures\n To hail the sunrise with a joyful song,\n Knowing he walks securely on his way?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n I could not slay a man with such a wild heart!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n It is not I who slew him! Oh, be glad.\n Look you, I am most merciful and kind;\n You know not all my history of grief,\n You know not how he came across my life,\n Black thread within the weaving of my joys!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Noble he was, and glorious in strength.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Whereof I had much cause of bitterness.\n We thrust the dwarf aside, spurn him the path;\n The giant brings us terror in our knees.\n Oh, had he not so noble been, so strong,\n So burning on the lips of man and maid,\n So high redoubted in all mighty arms,\n I would have pitied him, not hated to the last.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Have you no sorrow now, that he is dead;\n Have you no word of praise?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Oh, ask me not;\n But unto you who brought me into peace,\n All gratefulness of heart, all kindly words.\n Be welcome to our halls, and bide with us.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n Shall I prepare a chamber for our guest?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n With every speed. Let Avran know of this.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n I cannot here abide. My journey calls.\n I was on idle mission sent and vain.\n I must go hence again in haste.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[AILEEN, at a sign from ETARRE, goes out. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Oh, stay!\n It is unkindness to defeat all thanks\n And set true praise at loss; you render base\n Her whom your kindness most has cherish\u00e8d,\n Most nurtured into grateful ways. You spurn\n The springing blade of recompense, and flee\n Before its growth has quickened into leaf.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n A truer deed, that is not done for gain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Those purposes were never truly sown\n Which no man bides to reap; but like the wind\n You've scattered bounty with a careless strength\n And run abroad intent on other joys.\n The harvest threshers mock with plundered chaff\n The wind that sowed and knew not how to reap;\n Be more advised and with more human grace\n Glean recompense and store the golden grain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n With how persuasive touch you lull asleep\n The serpent-heads of honour. 'Tis too late,\n For they have set their fangs within me deep,\n And I must go.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For honour? Is it honour\n To trample welcome underfoot, and turn\n With angry frown from greeting to farewell?\n Does honour quarrel with hospitality\n And virtue with all kindness?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ask my Wish\n And learn it does not with my Will accord;\n Prove Inclination, and 'twill here abide,\n But speak to Duty, Knighthood, Self-resolve,\n And they will cry \"To horse!\" and ride away.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n It is Ill-will that plucks you by the sleeve,\n A servant in high banquet come to call\n His master forth on other needs?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ah, no;\n For admiration pours me heavy wine\n Of looks and words persuasive to the sense.\n I pray your pardon if I seem unkind:\n There is a vow which bids me hence.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A vow?\n Of fasting and of shelterless advance\n Through rainy ways and dripping nights a-cold?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n A vow most recent to impatient lips,\n To further love's advantage.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then remain;\n Tell me the tale and I with woman's heart\n Can find a surer way than quickest wit\n Of man's device. Thus shall you hold the vow\n And further love's advantage.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0'Twere in vain;\n For she is hard of heart and loves him not.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Is he of manner lovable and kind,\n In birth accepted and on courtly ways?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n All these he is, noble and great and true.\n Knighthood he honours, and the halls of men\n Which feel his stately presence. Such an one\n Is like a crown upon the head of kings,\n Adorning them with beauty. He is strong\n As mountain elm or heaven-cresting pine,\n Yet in his deeds more gentle than a child\n And in his thought as pure.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0'Tis you that love.\n Could she with such enamoured eyes behold,\n The earth would shrink to nothing at her feet\n And he would stand alone against the stars,\n A hero, crowned with passion, as with light.\n In other guise she knows him, be assured,\n And finds some deadly fault whose clinging tooth\n Tears at his virtues and with venomed drop\n Discolours those fair tints wherein he shines.\n Can you not say with what quick wrong estranged\n She holds him from her?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0By a wilful mood,\n A child's unreasoned passion of dislike.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n There is an eye more deep than reason set.\n False-shadowed forms deceive the fleshly sight,\n False words with reason dally, lead astray\n The wisest thought; but this is undeceived.\n Have you not marked how the untutored wild\n With thoughtless vision of pure sense discern\n Their friends or enemies in humankind?\n And so with woman when she loves or hates.\n Ask why the leaf unfolds to April rain\n But lies close-hidden from the winds of March.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Did I not say, \"In vain\"? My mind forbode\n A fruitless mission. Therefore, let me go.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Is this a snare of wisdom curling round\n Into unreason? You go forth in vain:\n \"Therefore,\" you say, \"make haste!\" Nay, therefore bide;\n If you are so persuaded, that your words\n Can never waken love in this Unknown,\n This obdurate and loveless Beautiful\n Who spurns this knight of yours and will not heed,\n Then bide with me, and feast with me, and dream\n Of more successful loves, more gracious toils,\n More sweet acceptance. You are welcome here,\n For you have freed me from a deep distress\n Which boded worse disaster, drawing on\n With monstrous shapes and dreams of murdered men:\n For with my own weak hands and woman's strength,\n Goaded by anger, driven by despair\n I should have bartered Pelleas with death,\n And sold him to the fearful hands of night\n To be their captive, gaining in return\n From that grim changers'-table quick release\n And freedom from the bonds of hate.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In vain!\n Did I not say, \"In vain\"? -- This murdered knight,\n This Pelleas, was noble-souled and great\n And women loved him.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Like a strangling noose\n He clung about my heart; through pulse and vein\n A clogging hatred thickened, and my mouth\n Grew dry with anger and unbidden rage.\n But tell me why you slew him; not in hate,\n For praise you speak; and not in rivalry,\n For great you name him.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0'Twas a slanderous tale\n Against your beauty and your name. To him\n I told it; and in sudden fire he shone\n And with his sword and spear proclaimed you true.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Who bade him praise me? let my word and deed\n Be their own champion, dress their shields alone\n And ride to battle! Was my hate in vain\n That he should hound me with remorseless love?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n For you he died.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And I shall bury him\n And on his mound set an ungraven stone,\n That I may cast him alway from my mind\n As life has cast him from her herald's scroll.\n But you who from the one have purged his name\n Shall never from the other be effaced.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n I pray you let me now depart in peace.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n By all the sacred bonds of gratitude\n I fetter you and hold you now in thrall.\n By courtesy of knighthood, by the grace\n Of man to feebler woman, by the strength\n Of that great company of Arthur's knights,\n By creed of chivalry and law of faith\n I conjure you, remain!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Accursed vow,\n What evil have you brought me! Will you come\n And cry fulfilment of your darkest word?\n For I must bide and to the utmost proof\n Display that broken embassy of love\n Whose hopes are all in vain!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Like stricken priest\n Who sees temptation writ on every wall,\n Wide-eyed for sustenance you murmur prayer.\n Am I a creature wrought in deadly shape\n Of mortal passion, that with quivering fear\n You dare not here abide and with me feast\n Holding high converse of adventured deed?\n You do offend me with ungracious thoughts\n And with unworthy shaft suspicion point.\n Yet shall you be forgiven with full heart\n If you from stern intention draw aside\n And turn to kindness. For three nights and days\n Let helm and breastplate join with greave and spur\n Unstirred in idleness.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With eager hands\n I lay aside the heavy press of mail.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n My knights shall swift disarm you. Here remain;\n My servants shall attend you.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ She leaves the room .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fatal vow,\n For thee I am assailed. How hard of heart,\n How cold to pity is that glorious form,\n That haunting presence! Yet, what body's grace\n Here shone about me! with what subtle charm\n Of pleading voice and of unveiled desire\n She bade me welcome! Nay, not ice and stone\n That lovely breast, though it be white as snow\n And like unsullied marble carven out.\n O honour, bide with me, unshaken, strong;\n O knighthood, watch above me. Deep events\n Have wrought me danger. O thrice wretched vow\n That makes my path a journey through the dark\n And spreads disaster wide on every hand!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 CURTAIN \n \n \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 ACT THREE \n \n SCENE: Three richly bedecked pavilions, the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0central one in the foreground, the others set\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0further back. Draperies and silk hangings.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The curtain of the central pavilion is drawn\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0aside to reveal the decorated interior. Within,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and near the entrance, are seated GAWAINE and\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 ETARRE . To the left, through the branching trees\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and above their summits, the walls of the Castle\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0of ETARRE are dimly visible. Toward the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0right, a gentle slope descends to a thicket which\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0shuts off the view. The last colours of sunset\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0are in the sky. \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Now sinks the day beneath the western rim.\n Night's hooded shepherd gathers-in the light\n And drives the crimson and the purple hues\n From highest heav'n unto their twilight fold;\n There shall they sleep till morn upwakes anew\n And sends them forth on eastern pasturage.\n O golden cloud, farewell; and yonder, too,\n Which like a billowed sea upon the West\n Heaves ruddy flame. Farewell, sweet colours all;\n That night makes shut the heavy doors of sleep\n And seals the portals with a silver star.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Dim silence flings its misty veil abroad.\n Hark! how the birds are stilled, and one by one\n Drop off to slumber.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Soon the horn\u00e8d bat,\n Shy lover of the twilight, soft of flight,\n With ribb\u00e8d wings in noiseless here-and-there\n Will weave the darkness; and the searching owl\n Will be a shadow-phantom clothed with sight.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Gone is the day, and now another sun, \n Another taper in th' eternal halls,\n Is quenched for ever.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So the breath of night\n Moves down the long expanse of kindled flames\n And one by one makes dark the future days,\n Until the last weak taper is blown out\n And night unending rules the sunless world.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Let not the sadness of departed day\n Weigh present joy with far fore-boded grief.\n Night robs us not of vision, though her hands\n Pluck down the light from heav'n and bind our eyes.\n Night clothes herself in beauty like a queen\n And robes her naked body with soft folds\n Whose half-concealment makes more rapturous\n The deep allurement of her charms. The day\n Is but a meadow garlanded with flowers;\n The darkness is a forest, deep and far,\n Where wonders move in every rustling leaf,\n And every footfall of the wind foretells\n Some mystic presence. In the noonday sun\n We see too well, and thence see not at all;\n But in the night our very spirit wakes,\n And with more gleaming power than day-lit eyes\n Reads deep the world's enchanted rune. 'Tis Night\n Who unto our most sacred thought and word\n In birth brings for the beauty of the soul.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n With quiet hands she lights her waiting stars\n And sends them forth to wander in the skies.\n O Night, sweet mother of eternal calm,\n I owe thee penance. Thy bright brother, Day,\n Has lured me with his colours.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0See, the East\n Is spreading silver cloth of woven light.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n The little people of the hills and meads\n Now hold their gathering at full of moon,\n With grave debate enacting law and will\n Whereby to rule. In angry conclave set,\n They gird their resolution unto war,\n Till beast and bird are stricken by their wrath\n And cry full penitence.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0This is a tale;\n Yet in this land are wonders strange enow\n Which I myself have witnessed.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0There be three\n Who hold this land in power, and with strange skill\n Ordain the deeds of men. They oft appear\n To travellers intent on distant ways\n And by gift of favour bind their will.\n These three have you encountered?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Even they.\n What shall their craft portend?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nor good nor ill.\n My knights in journey unto other courts,\n My men from field returning at the dusk\n Have met these three and for some trifling grace,\n A draught of water or a sprig of thorn,\n Been bound to choice, but having mid the three\n To one assented are unharmed released.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ The moon rises. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Whence are they, and with what malign intent\n Draw toll from men?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0This no man knows or deems.\n They are of mist and water, and their ways\n Are as the air phantastic or the clouds\n Which change their shape to every wilful mood.\n But this adventure comes from many lips\n And I would hear some deed of sword and spear\n Wrough by your hand alone, and from your lips\n Alone recounted. Were you not of they\n Who sought the Grail through lands beyond the sea\n And wrought adventure such as none had dreamed?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n A future quest, forever unfulfilled;\n A lure across the rainbow to the sun!\n 'Tis present always and yet never here.\n May I not be of them who make this life\n A great To-be, a vision and a dream.\n Has earth no riches, that we ride aquest\n To find the silver path beyond the moon?\n Are there no flowers save those which other walls\n Enclose for ever from us, and no streams\n Save those beyond the trackless rocks, no sun\n In our own heav'n and no portentous start\n Save those which others see? O wretched souls\n That spurn the wine of life, and drain the cup\n Into the basin which is never filled,\n Where all the lees of mad desire run down, --\n The Unattainable, the great In Vain!\n It is enough for me that here to-night\n I feel the soft sweet air and view the stars\n And hear your voice beside me. 'Tis enough\n That love is beautiful, that life is great,\n That old age is not come, nor winter bleak.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n The year looks backward with half-wistful face\n This autumn night; the air is soft with spring\n And lulls the sense to a sweet repose.\n So is it on the first warm eve of May\n When earth, expectant of an unseen grace,\n Awaits it knows not what, all awed and still,\n And thinks to hear across the sleeping hills\n The footsteps of divinity returned.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n And not in vain; for God, each Spring, descends\n In guise unseen to shape the world anew\n To plant desire in every fleshly form\n And resurrect the world from winter sleep.\n Meseems, to-night He is returned to earth\n And with soft wand of vernal sorcery\n Brought back the Spring, and in our sleeping souls\n Awakened voices singing through the dark\n Like birds beneath the stars, to fill the night\n With rapt enchantment.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mystical delight!\n Awake, awake, O sleeping birds of song!\n AWake within my heart, O silent birds,\n And fill the night with music till the stars\n Tremble in adoration! Have I lived and breathed\n These many years, these sombre silent years,\n Or was I numbered with the dreamless dead,\n Encharnelled in a palace, deep entombed\n In empty vault of daily thought and deed?\n Like them that walk within a sleep wide-eyed\n And deem themselves awake, so have I lived, --\n Nay, so been dead, and deemd myself alive.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Do you not feel a pulse of eager blood\n Through every vein, striving with beat and throb\n To rouse the broken armies of the spring,\n And hear the stamping of the hoofs, the cries\n Of mounted knights to battle riding down?\n They are reclaiming to their empery\n The autumn year, and winter's pagan horde\n Falls back before them.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Not in earth and air\n Alone they conquer, but in human mind\n They set their banners and in human heart\n Stir high their beacons.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yea, in thine and mine,\n Held captive to them here beneath the stars.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n The flames leap heavenward with growing beam\n Of kindled passion. O mad heart, wild heart,\n Why do you beat so fast, why leap and strive\n Like a wild thing netted, caught within a snare\n That leaves it free to struggle? O sweet heart,\n Be still, be still!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0O sweeter lips, speak on;\n Or better, speak no more; but unto mine\n Make harmony of silence and desire.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ They kiss. ]\n [ From the pavilions in the background is heard a voice singing. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0SONG\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When bleak December bares the hills\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And snowflakes curl in air,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When hoary January chills\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Young hearts with old despair,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When February plucks the day\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And plumes the stormy night,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When March winds prowl in quest of prey\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And battle with the light,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0By river marge and reedless lake\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Love makes her weary moan,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"O April sun, awake, awake!\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She sings alone, alone.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0O hearts of men, make penance due\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When April draws anear,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For life is false, but love is true,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And Spring is here, is here!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n O singing voice, the year is old and grey,\n Unto the tomb totters her shaking step.\n September has from April stolen dress\n And you by quick illusion are deceived.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n One day, one night, one shift of moon and sun,\n Each year are stolen from the hoard of Spring\n And unto Autumn given. On that eve\n All flowers, unknown to sleep-enchanted eyes,\n Break into blossom from a withered stem,\n The trees are clothed in leaf, the faded stars\n Put on new splendour, and the drowsy earth\n With glow-worm hangs each branch and dewy bower.\n It is the year's farewell festivity\n Ere love be quenched and winter cold return,\n Ere bird fly southward under warmer skies\n And fourfoot beast to sunless lair retire.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n But we unharmed through rainy nights and chill\n Shall hear the storm about the towered walls,\n And in security close-wrapped shall laugh\n When winter's frosty fingers pierce and pry\n At every stone and corner, and the wind\n Cries like a beast unsheltered through the night.\n Yea, thou and I, caught in each other's arms,\n Shall dream of stormy battle overhead\n When winter with the giants of the north\n Sweeps down across the hills and smites the plain\n With desolation, when above the dead\n The whirling snow in burial descends,\n When waters are bound captive in strong chains,\n When wells are sealed, and rivers turned to stone.\n And I will tell thee many a tale and strange\n Of dark enchantment wrought in waking dreams,\n Of magic lawns, and flowers that backward draw,\n Of shields that burn in flame, and helms that raise\n Quick serpents clutching the unwarded blow.\n So shall we hold the icy fiend at scorn\n And waken endless summer in our breast,\n With love to sing to us, and love to clothe\n Our souls with gladness and our hearts with peace.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n How many times I love thee, whom three days\n Have scarcely crowned, whom speech and look and thought\n Have scarce revealed! And yet a thousand suns\n Could with no lordlier radiance bind thy brows\n Nor with more light illumine.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thou are dear\n As pearl deep-hidden in the lightless sea\n Which careless net a-search for other prey\n By chance drags upward to th' astounded light.\n One glance alone, one beam of shafted day,\n The wretched fisher clutches priceless wealth\n And needs no knowledge wrought of week and year\n To teach his fortune. So art thou to me,\n Revealed and perfect in an instant sight.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Hold me yet closer, let the living world\n Sink from me like wild stars that seek the night\n And downward vanish in the vast obscure.\n Quench yonder gleams that hold the dark in power,\n And ban yon moving shield of argent beam;\n Veil moon and stars, and draw me to thy own.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n O best endeared and sweet belov\u00e8d form,\n Thou art the earth's most precious heritage.\n A thousand years, she fashioned in the dark\n With labour and sad toil, and brought thee forth\n To be her fairest marvel all unstained.\n Thou art of summer nutured, light-enwrought,\n Cradled in southern flame.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The silent years\n In their dim fastness of forgotten days\n With virgin toil unrecompensed and lone\n Have fashioned me and brought me to thy lips.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n And now like shrouded mantles of the dawn\n Soft falling from the shoulders of the sun,\n They do reveal thee, girt and crowned with love,\n Thine inmost self, for utmost worship meet.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n They have deserted me, like startled birds\n Rising from nook and deep recess of rock\n And wheeling, wheeling higher overhead,\n Till with a sudden impulse they depart\n And leave the watcher on the silent shore\n Alone and marvelling. So have they fled,\n My years of childhood and of maiden thought,\n My lonely years of growing womanhood,\n And I am left alone with love and thee,\n While at my feet the waters smite the shore,\n Wave after wave, in-coming from the deep.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Of that great time-swept ocean have no fear.\n The future is a snare to lead the eye\n Toward far horizons clouding the unknown.\n It is the present which our feet must tread\n And there our vision is the most unsheathed\n And we with least illusion can behold.\n Think not of years, but grasp the present day,\n And adamantine make the fleeting phase,\n Arrested and in memory's stone held fast,\n Carved with rich wonder, traced with strange design.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Ah would that Time thus stayed his course, or clipped\n The present hour and left it shorn of wings\n To be our prisoner! For evermore\n Should I so cling to thee, my lips upheld\n For thy sweet ardour and enkindled mouth,\n For ever so be clasped within thine arms,\n And dure eternity in thine embrace.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n All things save this can might of love fulfil.\n Love can of dew makes pearls and emeralds\n And build a palace of a ruined moat,\n From deepest forest charm the wing\u00e8d bird\n To minstrelsy and hymeneal song,\n And from the mountains draw the sullen wild\n To serve in quick attendance at the feast.\n With power of shadowed dreams and quickening thought\n Love is endowed: she chains eternal things\n To be her servant, binds th' unwilling moon,\n And draws the silver-threaded stars which weave\n The tapestries of heav'n. The golden sun,\n Which like a shuttle moves across the sky\n With strands alternate of the day and night,\n Becomes her slave and lives but for her word.\n For they that love are rulers of the earth\n And in their hands the future ages lie.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ A nightingale sings close at hand. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Did I not say this night was caught from Spring?\n Hark April's nightingale who turns the dark\n To music, and with radiant voice proclaims\n That summer is not fled, nor autumn here.\n To bed! to bed! sweet bird; with weary eyes\n You'll see the dawn if he o'ertake you singing.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n And unto us that selfsame counsel turns\n And bids us sleep. Good night, sweet love, good night.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Kiss me once more, till love be bared indeed\n And I in sweet communion with thy thoughts\n Be drawn into thy life and be a dream\n Within thy mind, a pulse within thy heart. --\n Kiss me once more, till life forsake his toil\n Of mystic alchemy and hidden consonance\n Of soul with body, till he break his glass\n Wherein he visions that processional\n Of generation unto generation matched,\n That sequence of mankind and beast and bird\n Which marks his handicraft: kiss me once more,\n Until he merge my soul in deathless bond\n To thine, and in eternal union join\n Our mind and thought and will. -- Kiss me once more,\n Till heav'n and earth be reft of all their veils\n And robbed of their mysterious dark conceit,\n Till I behold the circles of the sun\n And see the pulsing of the day and night,\n Hear time upon his anvil forge the stars,\n And be at one with universal might. --\n Kiss me once more, and shatter earth and sky\n Hurl all to dissolution, and with stroke\n Of vast desire still that gigantic heart\n Whose beating is the living, moving world.\n Leave me alone with thee, set round with night,\n In universal dark of boundless space,\n Alone, alone. -- Kiss me, and so good night!\n [ She rises and comes forward to the entrance of the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0pavilion, where she stands gazing out. ]\n How silent treads the night, how soft and still,\n With finger at her lips to hush each sound,\n That none of those who bide beneath her care\n Shall with uneasy dreams be stirred, and wake.\n Sleep soft, ye woods and meadow-lands,\n Ye silent leaves and sleeping flowers.\n Pale primroses, and daisies, ye sweet eyes\n With which the earth looks out on heaven,\n Be still; all, all, be still.\n Farewell, ye stars which overhead\n Drift by with distant song.\n Moon wide-eyed, watch well;\n Watch well until the dawn.\n [ She lets fall the curtain across the entrance of the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0pavilion, thus shrouding GAWAINE and her-\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0self from sight. The moon has now risen\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0high above the trees and bathes the stage in silver\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0light. A soft wind stirs the leaves. Their\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0rustling is taken up and transformed to music,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0-- at first scarcely audible, but gradually grow-\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ing in intensity,-- representing the sounds\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0of a late summer night. ]\n \n [ The music stills. PELLEAS and FERGUS emerge\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0from the thicket on the right. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Stay still: no further move. Our question here\n Shall find its answer.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Know you what this means?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Rejoicing and festivity.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The rite\n Of burial.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What mean you?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0That the dead\n From battle ride not home. You are betrayed.\n This is rejoicing for your death, festivity\n To honour him who slew you. For she holds\n That Gawaine with true victor's right and might\n Carries your shield and helm. You are betrayed.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Though mine own eyes beheld, I scarce should hold\n That such a knight to such a vow were false.\n 'Tis Gawaine, born of Caerleon's royal blood,\n Whom you, low-born, attaint. With deadly vow\n He swore him faithful, and in utmost pledge\n Bound life and body to fulfil my love.\n These were his words upon my sword-hilt sworn:\n \"If I be found unfaithful, changeful, false,\n May my bare throat feel this unsheath\u00e8d blade,\n May I be cast for ever from the light!\"\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n The vow is forfeit. Go! reclaim the oath.\n They have no fear of you and set no guard.\n Etarre believes you dead, and Gawaine laughs.\n She shall remember that the dead arise\n To wreak their vengeance. In these tents are hid\n Sure proofs and testimony.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0There remain,\n Within yon thicket hidden, till I come.\n [FERGUS draws back out of sight. PELLEAS advances\n up the slope toward the central pavilion. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Is this the timid prey which ran to earth\n Close harried, and like mole which dreads the light\n Drew shut her portals? This is she who feared\n My least approach, who with armed battlement\n Greeted my coming and with moat unbridged\n Bade welcome. These soft silks and drooping fanes\n Point mockery, as though they scorned to hide\n That which they cannot guard.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He has approached the curtain of the pavilion. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So comes the thief\n At dead of night on foul endeavour bent,\n So peers to left and right with fearing eye,\n And so on tip-toe to his booty draws.\n O watching powers of darkness and deceit,\n Grant that I be the very thief and true,\n And not myself the stolen-from, the robbed,\n The injured one down-tracking to his lair\n The plucking knave and claiming back his own!\n [ He raises the curtain and peers in. After a moment\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0he suddenly starts back. ]\n O sight too horrible for mortal eyes,\n Burning the eye-ball with a blackened scar\n Of infamy and loathing! Oh, be blind,\n Twice injured eyes. Look not again on light.\n Clothe yourselves round with darkness, and forget\n This fatal gift of seeing! O accursed,\n O nest of shame breeding repugnant brood\n Of broken oaths and false virginity!\n Now is the scroll of knighthood ended; fame\n Forsakes her ancient stronghold of renown.\n The days of chivalry are past, and knights\n With plea insidious of inviolate oath\n Work treason and adultery. This was Etarre,\n The maiden ivory in her chastity,\n With eyes downcast for fear of shame; and now\n Her lips are drawn apart with hungry sin\n And like a serpent feast on evil fruit.\n O night, how canst thou sleep so still? Up! Wake!\n With hundred voices clamour at this deed,\n And loose the hell-hounds of your winds and storms\n To sweep into destruction's cloven pit\n This treachery and crime! O bitterness of man,\n To see his life down-trodden and the dust\n Of wild despair heap charnel mounds and whirl\n In mockery, while Heaven lifts no hand,\n The oceans are unmoved, the river-floods\n Within their channels tarry, wind and fire\n Their ancient office elsewhere do perform,\n And moon and star smile in serenity!\n Forsaken, thrice forsaken, with his grief\n Man wrings no pity. The great world is stone;\n God holds himself aloof, cold, passionless,\n Wrapt in designs of far eternities.\n Spurning the race which shudders at his feet,\n He fashions future kingdoms. Weak, alone,\n From death unsheltered, bearing wounds and ill\n In life upgathered, man cries out in vain\n For judge of evil, champion 'gainst the wrong.\n But I, though I be so forsaken, scorned of God,\n Unheard of earth and Heaven, yet shall I\n Fulfil my vengeance, with unaided hand,\n And right the wrong and champion the true!\n False Nature, cry farewell to children twain\n Whom hast thou nurtured into infamy;\n Thou canst not save them! here, against thy will,\n I slay them, and in mockery of thee.\n [ Lifting the curtain of the pavilion with one hand,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and with the other holding his drawn sword,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0he enters and disappears from view. He\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0re-emerges. ]\n And is it manhood so to halt and fail,\n To hide the sword of vengeance in the sheath\n Of pity? Thought and deed wage mutual war,\n And deed is conquered; the weak thought prevails.\n So let them sleep; I cannot slay them now. --\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He turns to go, but halts suddenly. ]\n What, let that injury to all my hopes\n So slumber on, so let that shameless word\n Sleep unavenged? --\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ah me, how still they lay!\n Gawaine at peace, half god-like in his dreams,\n And she like carven statue motionless,\n Her lips half-smiling, her dark-lidded eyes\n Soft closed, and one white hand against her breast\n As though her lover still within her clasp\n Lay sleeping. --\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0O deep misery accursed\n To find Etarre at last, and find her so!\n Am I by craft of wizardry encharmed\n That all my thoughts are shades and fleshless dreams?\n With maiden weakness here I stand and weep\n As though I had no strength of hand, no sword\n To bring me vengeance, and no warrior's will\n To punish proved deceit and oath forsworn.\n Unto my mercy's prayer I cast Etarre\n For pittance, but my anger's deadly curse\n Shall Gawaine take, and with the stroke of death\n Drive out his soul from earthly dwelling place\n And ban for ever from the living world.\n [ He re-enters the pavilion. After a little, he re-emerges. ]\n Sleep on, sleep on, I cannot slay you here.\n On field of battle, waking and full-armed,\n I'll slay you; but not here, not now, asleep,\n Unarmed, defenceless. Though you traitor be,\n Of knighthood's stroke unworthy, yet am I\n A knight, and with that sacred oath am bound\n To slay no sleeping man nor foe unarmed,\n To battle with the sword and not, as they\n Who slay their sheep for feasting, to approach\n With sharpened knife the victim's helpless throat.\n Not so in cowardice was knighthood framed,\n Not so adorned for valour. Nay, sleep on.\n You've wronged me more than thousand deaths could pay;\n To take a single life so wretchedly\n Were but a mockery of payment. Nay, sleep on,\n And if your dreams affright you, be at ease;\n For that grim shadow, standing at your bed\n And with malign intent upon your life\n Down-gazing, is departed and returns\n No more to vex you. Ay, sleep on, sleep on.\n [ He proceeds down the slope. At the foot of the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0slope he is met by FERGUS.]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n And was it other than I said?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Full well\n Your heart's malignity foretold me truth.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n Gawaine is false?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The night with darkling robe\n No falser thing conceals.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Where are they hid?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Yonder pavilion holds the twain as one.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n Then have you slain them, meted that reward\n Alone sufficient and well-earned?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They live.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n You had not power, not opportunity\n To fall upon them; they were held in guard\n Or otherway from you removed?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Unwatched\n Their couch, unarmed they sleep and lone.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n And are not dead! Are you of honour reft,\n Of resolution shorn, of anger void!\n Unmoved you know yourself betrayed and spurned,\n Laughed at and mocked, your prize of ten long years\n Snatched from you in a day, and all your life\n O'ercast with sorrow. Have you not a sword?\n Do swords not slay? Alas, suspicion grows;\n This is not Pelleas who held the field\n Of armoured knights at nought! This is a shade,\n And Pelleas by years of pining love\n Is grown too frail for manhood, and too weak\n For anger. Quick, take sword, and slay;\n Set seal of blood on this foul testament.\n Match deed to deed. Send me with hungry knife\n And I will slay, and take the fault, the shame,\n If you have found a fault in such a right,\n A shame in such a work of injured honour.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n I cannot slay a sleeping knight, nor turn\n The pointed sword against a woman's breast.\n Let us depart this most unhallowed spot\n Lest quick contagion which is here abroad\n Should with its ill infect us.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Unavenged\n You would depart, and leave no trace behind,\n No proof of anger, no memorial\n To that dishonourable union set,\n As though you were the spirit of the wind\n Across the moors, trailing nor track nor sign\n To mark your presence? Shall they wake at dawn\n And fill another day with wretched love,\n And deem themselves secure and laugh at thought\n Of Pelleas?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Well said, a sign, a sign\n That I am not a shadow, but a man,\n A fleshly thing with mortal strength of arm,\n A threat of punishment, a deadly fear\n Unsilenced in their hearts.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ay, still their hearts.\n This is the sign I meant, the sign of death,\n That all men may take knowledge to themselves\n And learn what thing it is thus to forswear\n All honour, and in treason to be false\n To Pelleas. These two together slain\n Shall be a history to all mankind,\n A legend and a saying.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Here remain\n Yet once again until the deed be done.\n I shall exact his oath.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He ascends toward the pavilion. ]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Praise be to Heaven!\n The ancient valour is returned, to swell\n High flood of vengeance and exact the oath.\n How ran the words wherewith he pledged his life?\n \"May my bare throat feel this unsheath\u00e8d blade,\n May I be cast for ever from the light!\"\n Then is he slain.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[PELLEAS enters the pavilion. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And yet his temper burns\n Like sudden sun upon an April day,\n Hot for the moment but too soon o'ercast.\n Let me go up and strengthen his resolve\n Lest at the last he weaken.\n [ He moves toward the pavilion. PELLEAS comes out. ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ah, returned,\n So soon returned. He had not time to fail.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n It is fulfilled. Across his naked throat\n My sword has gone.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And he is slain in truth!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Slain? Nay, not slain, but sleeping as before.\n So let them sleep until the morning comes\n To waken them and they behold my sword\n Across their breasts, close drawn beneath their throats,\n A sign, in symbol of a broken oath.\n Comes, let us go; the night draws on apace.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n O idle hope to dream that he was dead,\n By vengeance over taken! No! return;\n Not so that oath was sworn, not such th' intent;\n With death he bargained. Let him death receive.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n What I have done is with full purpose wrought.\n Come, let us go; the night draws on apace.\n [ They disappear into the thicket. A cloud crosses\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the moon, and a sudden gust of wind shakes the trees. ]\n \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 CURTAIN \n \n \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 ACT FOUR \n \n SCENE: In the Castle of ETARRE. A hall, with\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0windows overlooking a central court. Early\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0morning of a gloomy day. \n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Find me some counsel, for with wrath and hate\n My senses are disordered. Let me turn\n And hide myself for ever; here close-walled\n Within my castle, let me sit and brood\n On man's dishonour and my fallen pride.\n Let me no more be seen of foreign eye\n Lest memory's brand draw fire across my cheek\n And I turn hot with shame. Ah, so deceived\n And in deception so displayed to him\n Who most was wronged! Speak! is there no escape?\n Do all the paths draw close their hedg\u00e8d walks\n And bar the way? And you who sang of love,\n For day and night unwearied in your rhyme,\n Know you no counsel?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0None of wrath and hate.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Shall I be loving? with corruptive name\n Call falsehood truth and welcome all deceit?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n You are not stricken so beyond all health\n That you must turn to death for comfort, -- ay,\n Keep house with grief and marry with despair.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Then on my sickness lay some remedy;\n Pluck me some healing herb of sweet advice.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n Forgive, forget. These are most heav'nly sounds\n Which to discordant actions concord bring\n And work harmonious union. Gawaine sleeps\n And of th' event knows nothing. Be as he:\n Know not of broken slumber and a sword.\n Nurture no counsel of unquiet mind\n Against his fault; he loves you well and true\n And there no falsehood lies.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Forgive! forget!\n Forget that to these walls came Gawaine riding,\n With victor's helm and plume, and with false word\n Cried Pelleas dead? Forget my joyful praise,\n My love which was but thankfulness of heart\n Upraised in gratitude? Forgive the lie\n Wherewith he lured my thanks and bought my love,\n The lie wherewith he sealed my lips and eyes\n And to deep slumber bound me, while another,\n Him whom he boasted slain, within my tent\n In musing stood and saw me in my shame\n And with a naked sword cursed me and him\n With whom I slept? Forgive, you say? forget?\n Not till the mated wolf forget his lair\n Shall I forget, nor till the son forgive\n The slayer of his sire, shall I forgive.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n You judge too harshly, with a view too near,\n Like them who hillocks into mountains raise\n Because they stand beneath them, head thrown back\n And eyes upcast, unknown that from afar\n These hillocks merge into the level plain.\n No deadly work of ancient kingdoms lost,\n Armed hosts betrayed and knights in prison slain,\n Has Gawaine wrought. He lied? nay, what of that?\n With false pretence won favour? 'tis no crime.\n He was with love intentioned: men are fain\n To overstep the fettered pace of honour\n When love's the goal. And do you think him base\n Claiming another's death, thereby to gain\n Your love, when to have held the ways of truth\n Led to a loveless issue?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0You would make\n Fair winds from stormy quarters blow, and set\n The northern sun in winter skies. With words\n False-founded on the marsh of shifting thought\n You'll not persuade me.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But by surer proof,\n Rock-built and firm, which never wind of doubt\n Can shake to earth. Though Gawaine falsely wrought\n And with dishonour entered covenant,\n Let past be past, and mingle not its gall\n With present mead, lest bitter be the draught.\n Gawaine you love; and for that love's fair sake\n Rouse not the past against him.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Love and hate\n Hang not on every moment's fleeting lure,\n But from dead hours and withered years depend.\n Past thoughts do act upon our present mood\n And get new children; men are fools, who think\n This deathless creature, time, was ever held\n Within the coffin: there's no hour o' the day\n But lives for ever in unlessened strength;\n No mightier love in earth or ocean dwells\n Than that between the present and the past,\n And none more fruitful. Ay, forget the past?\n Forget the dark which quenches every fire\n Within my heart, and in unmindful bliss\n Call Gawaine pure, a knight without a stain?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n And is he so dishonoured?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Let me speak,\n Let me be herald and proclaim his deed;\n For now I mind me of a word he said,\n A truthful tale for lying purpose told.\n His was a quest to win a lady's love,\n Not for himself, he said, -- O guileful claim! --\n But for another. I, with idle wit,\n Knew not 'twas Pelleas of whom he spoke\n And mine the heart which he was sent to win.\n 'Twas thus that with another's helm and shield\n He came disguised; but not as conqueror, --\n As servant bearing message to my halls.\n And like a servant to his master false\n He decked himself with borrowed finery\n And played a stolen part.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0'Twas not a slave\n Who played the master, but the royal lord\n In servile garb demeaned. You are unkind\n To make comparison with things unlike\n And thence draw profit.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He has cast aside\n The cloak of honour, thrown the sceptre down,\n The kingly staff of faith, whereby we rule\n Ourselves and others. Perjured and forsworn,\n To knighthood false, to fellow-knight untrue,\n He wrought upon me with unrighteous deed\n Which to his oath proved mortal and betrayed\n His embassy.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It is himself he harms,\n Not others. Pelleas whom you never loved\n Is not of love defrauded. What, forget?\n You say to heav'n, you cannot so forget?\n You have forgotten in an hour's short span\n Ten years of hatred.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nay! I love him not!\n Yet, when I see a knight so wronged, the tears\n Of pity well unbidden to mine eyes\n In quick compassion; when I think on him,\n Betrayed by Gawaine and from hope exiled,\n Spurning revenge and to his sleeping foe\n Soft pity granting, can I nourish hate\n Against a grief so nobly self-endured,\n Knighthood so proven?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What of grief he bore\n Through ten cruel years, knighthood so nobly shown\n In joust and battle, dungeon and disgrace?\n Well, let him stand forgiven: light the fires\n Of your resentment, kindle torture-flames,\n And unto Gawaine turn your restless hate.\n Let him like purest ore be doubly proved\n In midmost heat of anger, till the dross\n Of foolish pride and guileful deed be shed\n And golden faith emerge. He will repent\n And with contrition turn to them he wronged,\n Suing for pardon.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He shall sue in vain\n If unto me he turn.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN [ at the window ]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Within the court\n Rain-drops begin to fall; the western wind\n From stormy ocean journeys, with the net\n Wherewith he dragged the sea for water-drops\n Across his shoulders flung, dripping with rain.\n His cloak upcast, he hides the morning sun\n And with his fisher's hat throws giant shade\n On all the hills. Look well upon his ways,\n For in your soul there strides a shadow vast\n Hiding the sunlight of clear thought and love\n With clouds of anger, fraught with fall of tears.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n 'Twas but a phantom sun at midnight sent,\n A wisp o' the marshes, caught among the stars.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n 'Twas the great sun in heav'n, and you have spurned\n God's utmost gift, the light wherewith men see.\n For love is as a light within the eyes,\n And with it vision enters, bird and beast\n Wax cunning, the fierce eagle's sight is bared\n Where like a drifting point against the clouds\n He holds his guard; swallows and singing birds\n Gather their tribe and nation, and unvexed\n Go pilgrimage; who guides them on their way?\n Who taught the thrush to build his nest, the mole\n To dig his halls and chambers? Well you know\n Desire of life, desire of love, alone\n Give these their knowledge; river-fish depart\n On distant journey to the ocean stream\n And yet return; the woodland deer with fawn\n Sees huntsman while the hounds are yet in leash;\n And arrows miss their prey in summer months.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Fine threads of fancy, airy webs of thought;\n They touch me not.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AILEEN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then hear a grosser tale.\n It is not well that woman's hand should rule\n By man unaided, for in weaker mould\n Her body's strength is fashioned, and her mind\n Trembles before assault. Bright fortune's star\n Has watched above you, for the hounds of war\n Have never drawn their trail across your land,\n And that grim huntsman, who with double stroke\n Slays foe and friend, has passed these regions by;\n 'Twas far away we heard the clamorous tongues\n Of questing hounds, and cry of men a-chase.\n But war returns: one quarry run to earth\n And slain in bloody moil, his hounds find scent\n Of other prey. Across the harvest-fields\n He spurs the hunt, through villages asleep,\n By moat and grange, through breadth of all the land.\n And when beneath your walls his bugles blow\n And you with woman's strength of arm and will\n Must bold confront him, you will shrink afraid;\n The walls with stroke of iron-girded beam,\n The shaken portals, towers down-ravening,\n Shall with disaster terrify your sense.\n Yield unto man his heritage of power;\n His is the crown of courage, his the strength\n Which bides unmoved the deadly front of war.\n To man, but yesternight, you gave your love\n And to his passion yielded sense and soul;\n To-day you cry release and would reclaim\n Th' irrevocable compact. -- Let me speak!\n You wrong me with your anger! At your gates\n A wanderer stands, with staff and laden scrip;\n Upon his brow is written peace, his hands\n A scroll upraise; he bears the hidden sword\n Of safety, and the cup of heart's content.\n You turn him from your gates, because his feet\n Are travel-stained, because he wears a cloak\n From others taken, and the scroll reads false.\n Be well advised; this pilgrim comes but once;\n Throw wide your doors, cry Welcome, he is here!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n I close my portals to him; from the walls\n I herald him be gone. You fan the flame\n Of anger in me.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[GAWAINE enters .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE [ to AILEEN]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Let me be alone.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[AILEEN goes out while GAWAINE is speaking .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Must love at touch of dawn his dreams dispel\n And from his kingdom flee? Through empty halls\n I've sought in vain.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With scrutiny more keen\n Instruct your failing eyes. I am not she\n For whom you search.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Why, you are changed indeed.\n Are you some flower that blossoms in the night\n And in the day with envious stalk of thorns\n Enfolds its chalice? With unfriendly mien\n You look upon me, warn me with set frown,\n Chill me with loveless words. Are you not she\n Who yesternight beneath the flaming stars\n Vowed me eternal love? You are not she!\n The day has raised its sword and cleft apart\n That union of our souls. What have I wrought\n Amiss, what deed to love untrue?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Demand\n Of your own heart.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0'Tis dark, pierced with no light\n Of knowledge.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nought is to you better known.\n It is forever in your waking mind;\n The day has written it in thousand hues\n Across your vision; wheresoe'er you turn\n 'Tis burnt and carven in your inmost thought;\n The cocks have crowed it in their morning song,\n And every word men speak points thumb to it.\n You cannot sleep but in your deepest dream\n It shows its pattern.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What is this you know?\n Have I with slumb'ring spirit's drowsy sense\n Some foolish tale unfolded? Men believe\n The waking words and not th' illusive dream.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Your lips betrayed you not: they are too well\n In silence schooled.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Then is some message come,\n Some lying tale from sland'rous lips of men?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Nor spoken word, nor written.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From the walls\n You saw some vision to affright your mind\n Against me?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ay, the golden king of day\n Held prisoner in gloomy halls: nought else.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Why, then rejoice, and laugh at wind and rain.\n Come, kiss me; and confess you penitent\n That dawn should wake me in an empty world\n And rob me of the fairest jewel of day.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Plant flowers to close the grave where murder lies,\n With golden portal seal the beggar's hut,\n But this you cannot hide.\n [ From behind a curtain she drags out the sword of PELLEAS.]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Know you this sword?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n 'Tis but a sword: I know it not.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The hilt\n Has graven letters: hearken their device,\n \"The son of Ork; be strong and hold me fast.\"\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Pelleas! the sword! Tell me, whence came the sword?\n Who brought it to your hands?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Who else but he?\n Pelleas the slain, the dead knight from his grave!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n Through shadows of the early day he crept\n And in your ear dropped poison? told you all,\n With bitter words probed deep his injury,\n And searched the vitals of his hate!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I know\n But this, that Pelleas lives and can avenge,\n That you have dealt with perjury and shame.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n You know that I have falsely wrought, have lied,\n Worked with untruth: these things you know full well.\n You know not that I was by Pelleas sent,\n By him enarmed, trusted with tale of death.\n You think not of the strife within my soul,\n Unbodied forces in contention thrown\n For mastery within me. Do you mind\n How you with praise assailed me, with soft word\n And glance? Not I, not I, who played me false,\n But you who brought me ruin. 'Twas a vow,\n Upon this very hilt 'twas given oath,\n And now it is betrayed. It was a knight,\n Who in great tourney won this very sword,\n And now he is betrayed. You ask me, Why?\n With Wherefore vex me -- you who know so well!\n Your eyes, your lips, your body's silver form,\n These are the Wherefore, these the cunning cause,\n So deadly, so corruptive to the mind,\n That were the deed undone, and I to choose,\n I'd choose against all honour, and with you\n Blind out this pallid ghost of knighthood, drown\n Reproach, and strangle recompense.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Away!\n Mine eyes are stricken with the sight of you\n And inward turn, praying for some release\n From this most bitter vision. You have dared\n To wed me with the broken ring of faith\n Forsworn; you've snapped in twain the lute of joy,\n And Happiness, bright minister of God,\n That solitary hermit who descends\n But once a year from his eternal rocks\n Into the market-place of men, you've crowned\n With crown of thorns, dealt stripes and buffeting\n And sent him back into the desert heights\n To weep forlorn. You've brought me grief and hate,\n And now 'tis I who wronged you, I who led\n Your helpless honour to dishonour's grave!\n Away! and come not ever to these halls\n Lest I forget my woman's heritage\n And like a man avenge me.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Give me word,\n And let me speak. For much pleads with my cause\n And with me makes defence.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The very night,\n Which shelters crime and to the deeds of sin\n Accords its refuge and unhallowed screen,\n Betrayed you. I have heard and seen and judged,\n Yea, judged too kindly, leaned too much aside\n To mercy. Go! And if you here remain,\n You idly wait: here shall I not set foot\n Until within the court I know the hoofs\n Of your departing steed bear from my life\n Its cruelest injury.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No steed have I\n Who am alone in all the land.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then take\n From out my stables. Quick! make haste and go.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ She turns abruptly and leaves the room .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n So shatters that mysterious glass of love\n Wherein delight was mirrored; so departs\n That glorious ray, and so the night returns\n With all its solitude. Lo, I am cast\n For ever from the light! Farewell, Etarre;\n You were unkind, and with a passion's storm\n Brought devastation to the garden-close\n Wherein love blossomed. Wrath and fiercest hate\n Were never of a speedier onset borne,\n And the red flight of hell was never stirred\n To such a fury. On the mound which marks\n Your love's decease, my thought shall plant a spray\n Of budding thorn for memory. Mighty Heaven,\n That on our thought and action holdest count,\n Bear witness in thy universal scroll,\n I am misjudged! [ pausing suddenly ] Or am I judged aright?\n To quick repentance should I turn, or hate?\n Be scornful or be sad?\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He turns to go .]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What's done is done.\n Close meditation's gloomy book of fears;\n I'll read no more in it.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 [FERGUS enters .]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Who's here?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I came\n With other hopes than these, not thought to find\n Gawaine within the land.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yes, you are he\n Who on the moors thought every wind which blew\n Christened the serf with knighthood, equal made\n Low born and high.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And of false wooers spake\n A word not unfulfilled.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0That rankling tongue\n Has learned no better trade than erst it knew.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n No better trade than truth.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nor lighter curb\n Than that which silences for ever.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Knight,\n If knight you be, who so with knighthood deal,\n Ill taught am I in that mysterious lore\n Whereof my master speaks; 'tis honour called.\n It bids us spare the foe when at our feet\n He crumpled lies; when prison doors spring wide,\n It spurns escape; when fortune to our hands\n Has brought, unarmed and sleeping, our revenge,\n It falters in its anger. 'Tis a staff\n Which leads us into regions insecure\n And robber-haunted ways. It is a lance\n Which backward wounds, a double-tooth\u00e8d sword.\n I am not learned in this subtle craft;\n For me a single law sufficient rules, --\n To help my friend and slay mine enemy.\n And when I hear this speech of low and high,\n Base-born and noble, I am much perplexed --\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n As all men are, with what they cannot grasp.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n One truth I know, one truth I grasp secure.\n You have betrayed my master, worked him wrong\n As only death can pay. He has released\n That mortal payment, left you all unharmed;\n And you, who know how great a debt is here,\n Unmoved remain within these halls. Take horse\n And ride with all the cudgels of the wind\n To speed your flight! Or else on bended knee\n Cry his forgiveness; praise that noble heart\n Which unto anger turns not; to all men\n Bear forth the shield of his tranquillity,\n Recount his deed in every festival\n And at the door of kings proclaim his worth.\n Go forth in penance. You have worked a deed\n Which I, low born, of honour all untaught,\n Should hold too black for doing.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0May the fiends\n In cauldron's brazen darkness thrust you down!\n Such taunts with th' sword are answered, not with words.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n Such taunts are written in the book of deeds\n Where every word is truth. You dare not slay,\n Who with a guilty eye stare out on me\n And with fear's ague tremble to behold\n Your deed confronted.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then, false deed, be still,\n And never more between those lips be cast\n To work me slander.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He draws his sword against FERGUS.]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You have slain enough.\n First 'twas your honour which you stabbed to heart\n And with that stroke to Pelleas' happiness\n Dealt mortal blow; then 'twas a virgin name\n Which you from life despatched with lusting hand;\n And now on pardon's messenger you turn\n Your deadly blade.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Unclothe that mystery,\n And let me look on naked form of thought,\n Not on these wordy veils. What message comes?\n What is this pardon you are sent to bring?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n 'Tis dead. Lest it should fall between your hands,\n I've slain it. Go, and dream that mad revenge\n With dripping foam upon her speechless lips\n Is on your track, pursuing with red feet\n In murder dabbled, and with rabble-rout\n Of demons plucking at your fleeing hair.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n So have you driven the last bolt and bar\n Across your tomb.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He strides with drawn sword against FERGUS.]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And so with blade drawn bare\n Stood Pelleas above your sleeping couch\n And at your throat set hate's envenomed point;\n Yet spared you, spared you in your marriage sleep\n Which was to his lone love the sleep of death.\n Have you from mercy's high example learned\n No lowly creed?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0GAWAINE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Within our tent, you say?\n Above our couch? What? found me lain with her\n And took no vengeance?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ After a pause .]\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Verily, 'tis here,\n Knighthood's most glorious pattern to all time\n Mercy's most perfect counterpart. Be sheathed,\n Mad sword of hate; be still, and strive no more;\n In other lands we'll seek a nobler crown\n And bear this emblem of bright chivalry\n Blazoned within our heart.\n [ He turns and leaves the room. Through the opposite\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0door AVRAN enters .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n High words were here, and wrangle of dispute.\n Are you alone? Whence came that sound of strife\n Which from the rampart drew me?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0'Twas a tale\n Which I to me recounted, of a knight.\n Who did foul deeds with fairest countenance.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Two voices quarrelled. Who was here with you?\n And how within these halls came you alone?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n 'Twas Gawaine bringing me a last farewell;\n And as for me I seek some knight-at-arms\n To carry urgent message to Etarre.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Whence come you?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 From the hill and open moors\n Where we inhabit.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Whom is it you serve?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n The greatest knight in all the western land.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Has he a name, that I may know of him?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n A name that to your hearing rings not strange.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Then let me know it.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Pelleas is the name.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Are you his servant?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With a message here\n That Pelleas with Etarre would speak.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0You come\n On venture profitless. From open door\n You'll see dismissal beckoning your flight.\n Etarre has only hatred. Get you gone.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n Do you not know, the sparrows in the rain\n Of early morning hold another speech\n Than that of sunlight and clear day?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And what\n Portends that saying?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0FERGUS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Do you tell Etarre\n That Pelleas is at hand, and would be heard.\n There is a change come over heaven's demean\n And other forces rule; this message bear\n While I in search of Pelleas am departed.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ He goes out .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n How insolent he stares; his vaunting tongue\n Bristles with pride. Yet shall it soon be dulled,\n And like the thistle's head lie low, cut short\n By all the scythes of anger.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ETARRE enters .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He is fled.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n This very moment gone.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I marked his step\n Some minute since within the court; how say you\n This very moment gone?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But, as you entered\n He did depart. How know you of him?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Whom?\n Of Gawaine?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No; this knavish messenger\n Who plumes himself with dappled tints of pride,\n And like a mating bird struts high.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Whom mean you?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n 'Twas one from Pelleas come --\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What, come from Pelleas?\n Good fortune works communion with my wish.\n What said he? Is he yet within the land?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n Are you so eager, where I looked for scorn's\n Fierce speech of hatred; nor for such a tone --\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Will you destroy me with impatience? Quick,\n What said he?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Word most insolent and vile;\n That Pelleas with Etarre demanded speech.\n Here is affront o'ertopping all offence.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Where is he?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0AVRAN\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Near at hand. His servant went\n To fetch him hither.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then take haste to wife\n And with all speed bring Pelleas to my sigh.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[AVRAN goes out .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n How wretched are the dead, to whom remains\n No holy power in reparation's wand\n Transmuting into gold their baser deeds.\n Within the narrow channels of the grave\n They think upon their sins, and with no word\n Can alter that which erst they wrought amiss.\n The past cries out against them with its wrongs,\n And mem'ry presses for revenge. They writhe\n In all the torments of contrition's wheel\n And backward gace upon their crooked years\n Which nought can straighten. Happiest are they\n Who in this life their evil ways discover\n And with repentant eyes trace out anew\n The virtue whence they strayed. O holy stream\n Of penitence, wash out this wretched stain\n Of passion false and unrestrained desire.\n Give me the love which I have spurned, lead back\n My life to those remoter happier days\n And let my chang\u00e8d heart atone to Pelleas.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[PELLEAS enters .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n It much repents me, this unhappy night\n Wherein I brought dissension's tooth\u00e8d fiends\n To tear your love asunder. Anger's spur\n Too wanton played, and hate's distempered hand\n Caught from me that soft robe of gentle thought\n Which from barbaric nakedness enclothes\n Our wretched souls. That golden crown I lost\n And with unworthy passion rode afield.\n If words can gain forgiveness to a deed,\n Forgive me.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nay; for how shall I forgive,\n Nurse others into virtue, and myself\n Be sick with every vice? 'Tis not the poor,\n The starveling beggar of the street, who gives\n Unto the rich.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The leper gives his blessing\n And 'tis as holy as the touch of kings.\n But you who are in mercy rich, forgive.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Have I been merciful and set the bowl\n Of pity at my gates? I am a fiend\n From heav'nly sorrow shut; the very stones\n Within these walls are with more mercy fraught.\n Ten years of wrong have left you still as pure\n In your forgiveness as a youth who dreams\n All wrong illusive, all the world of gold.\n I come before you, penitent and shamed,\n Before your stainless honour throw me down\n And clasp the knees of mercy. In the house\n Of your long-garnered misery and ill\n Can you yet find the grains of pity stored\n And uncorrupted?\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I have wrongly done.\n Ten years I have assailed you, made your life\n Most bitter to your lips, and at the last,\n When love before your castle held his steed,\n At dead of night across his sleeping eyes\n Set fire of deadly vision. Let me go,\n To death and danger my atonement make,\n And seek in new adventure novel crown\n To bind my fading glory. I forgive,\n If aught there be whereon forgiveness waits.\n Take Gawaine to you; from his erring throat\n Draw back the sword which I have laid athwart,\n And let that curse be broken in your heart\n As in my heart it now long shattered lies.\n My sword, the hilt of Ork, the tourney's meed,\n Return to me. \"Be strong and hold me fast,\"\n So is it written.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ETARRE gives him the sword .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Leave me not alone!\n Look, I am changed; this mouth at breast of hate\n No more draws milk, these eyes no more seek light\n From wells of angry fire. Oh, leave me not!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Through break of dawn I heard the distant horns\n Of wild adventure from new countries blowing.\n Let me forget as I have now forgiven.\n Be still, dead years, and let me seek the world\n Where battles break like ocean's stormy surge,\n Where glory hides beneath the passing leaf\n And fame upon her highroad journeys far.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n O dread event, and is thy vision true?\n Last night within my fairest dreams appeared\n The warders of the haunted well, and stretched\n Their hands in supplication. \"Choose,\" they said.\n And I unto that ancient crone replied,\n And knew that she should comfort me, not stir\n My heart to the wild dreams of youth. \"You choose\n The past,\" they said, and vanished from my sight.\n And I awoke, and cold against my throat\n The sword of anger pressed. Gawaine is fled;\n I drove him from me with contemptuous word\n And unto you with sudden passion turned\n Who so have loved me. Do not you depart.\n Make me your helpmate, teach me your great faith,\n And let me live as you have lived and wrought.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n I cannot love you now. This naked sword\n Has cloven us for ever. Hark, the horns!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n I hear no sound.\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The horns! hark, how they ring!\n The horns of wild adventure in my heart\n Calling to battle! calling. . . .\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Give me love!\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0PELLEAS\n Now are the seas of pity troubled deep\n Within my breast. I cannot love. Love comes\n Unheard, unseen; in silence so departs.\n Our ears are not attuned to melody\n Of his sweet progress. Those ethereal sounds\n Vanish within us in a dust of sense.\n For who has heard the fingers of the sun\n That sweep across the lyre-strings of the rain?\n What mortal ear with sweet enchantment's touch\n Has heard the moving stars at play, or caught\n The magic silver song of floating moon\n Whereby the waves like charm\u00e8d birds are drawn?\n We are too grossly fashioned. Who has heard\n The midnight hammer of the winter frost\n Spanning the rivers with an icy bridge,\n Or caught the ringing of his chisels keen\n Cutting the tracery of fern and flower\n In wayside rut and frozen marsh and pool?\n We cannot hear the footfalls of the Spring,\n Nor answering cry of blossoms underneath\n In winter darkness waiting for the sun.\n And Love we cannot hear. He comes and goes,\n And no man sees him. Think me not unkind\n So passionless to answer. Love is fled,\n Unheard in silence. But the horns of war,\n These ring and cry within my ears. Farewell!\n There is some madness caught upon my life\n And drawing me away. Hark, hark, the horns!\n Farewell, and live in peace for all your days.\n [ He suddenly stoops to kiss her forehead; then without\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0a word departs .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0ETARRE\n Stay, stay! You are betraying me to death!\n O life! O life! Broken the empty shell,\n Withered the kernel. Naught remains. The night\n Closes upon me with its memories;\n The curtain of my life descends to veil\n All happiness for ever from mine eyes.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ She turns to the window .]\n Lo, he departs: and from my spirit flee\n All present joys, all future ecstasies,\n And nought remains save only thought withheld\n Upon the visions of adventured days.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0[ A pause .]\n Meseems that I have always loved the past,\n And now within those halls, so drear and pale,\n My habitation taken for all time.\n O memory, live within me; with your hand\n Lay cooling touch upon my fevered brow\n And draw my spirit toward the hills of peace.\n [ Alone in the room, she bows her head within her\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0hands, and weeps .]\n \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0CURTAIN\n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n Next: King Arthur: A Drama in a Prologue and Four Acts, by J. Comyns Carr [1895]","title":"Arthurian Miscellany: The Tragedy of Etarre, by Rhys Carpenter [1912]","type":"page"}