{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/arthur/art157.htm","path":"neu/arthur/art157.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/arthur/art157.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 GAWAIN AND THE LADY OF AVALON\n by\n GEORGE AUGUSTUS SIMCOX\n \n Came tidings unto Caerleon,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Where Arthur kept Shrovetide,\n How, far away in Avalon,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A scaly dragon's pride,\n With visage like a woman's, wan,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Wasted the country-side.\n \n Arthur let cry through all his land,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Who curses me for wrong?\"\n Then flowed there in on every hand\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The stream of loyal song,\n \"If right could make a king's throne stand,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then Arthur's would stand long.\"\n \n When Arthur's praise was duly sung,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A way-worn maiden came,\n And said, with duteous faltering tongue,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Ye are not much to blame,\n My liege, for we were very young,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Though ye forgat our game.\n \n \"We played at guessing thoughts,\" she said.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Ye did not guess aright.\n Ye sware to give me one to wed,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To be my lord and knight.\n Now twenty years, methinks, are fled,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And ye forget our plight.\"\n \n The dew was on her raven hair\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And her blue glistering eye;\n No dust on foot or ankle bare,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Though all the land was dry;\n And every knight was ready there\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To wed with her or die.\n \n \"But I,\" she said, \"am dowerless,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And comfortless of men,\n And sojourn in the wilderness,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And in the dragon's den.\"\n Pale looks were plentiful, I guess,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0About the Table then.\n \n \n Lancelot looked in her pleading face,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And sighed, \"If I were free;\"\n Quoth Tristram as he left the place,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"His answer serves for me.\"\n Galahad said something of God's grace;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She said, \"I choose not thee.\"\n \n Geraint bowed over Enid's veil;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0His visage was more white.\n Lamorack buckled up his mail,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And looked into the night.\n Gawain, whose face was always pale,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Seemed ruddy in the light.\n \n She laid her little hand in his,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He chose to let it stay;\n She put her rosy cheek to his,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He did not turn away;\n She put her cherry lips to his,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Which were as dim as clay.\n \n He spake, as soon as it was time,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of pleasant ways of love,\n That rules the sweetly-ordered chime\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of stars and saints above,\n And bade the minstrels sing the rhyme\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of the true turtle-dove;\n \n And bade them call the holy priest\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To knit the twain in one.\n She said, \"I keep my marriage-feast\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Not here, at Avalon.\"\n None knew why all men as she ceased\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Trembled in Caerleon.\n \n \"Where shall we find a priest to wait\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And bless the marriage-bed?\n And if your house be desolate,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0How shall your guests be fed?\n And who will guide them to our gate?\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The courteous bridegroom said.\n \n \"The dragon's scales of woven glass\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Will light my banquet well;\n Iscariot will sing the mass,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And Pilate toll the bell;\n And all my marriage guests will pass\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Over the mouth of hell.\n \n \"I go to the great wilderness,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And to the dragon's lair,\n Where the great hills are harbourless,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And the sharp rocks are bare;\n And if thou pity my distress,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then thou wilt meet me there.\n \n \"But sit thou with thy master here\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For three days yet,\" saith she;\n \"Then shalt thou ride in desert drear,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Three days alone to me;\n The seventh day with lordly cheer\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Our marriage-feast shall be.\"\n \n She kissed Sir Gawain on the mouth,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He kissed her on the hand;\n Then she departed to the south,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Between the sea and sand,\n Leaving behind a bitter drouth\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In all King Arthur's land.\n \n Thereat the King was full of woe,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The princes of dismay.\n A bolder man had feared to go,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But Gawain feared to stay,\n And parted in a storm of snow,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Alone, on the third day.\n \n The seventh day, by Grammarie,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And by the dragon's power,\n He saw beside a leaden sea\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A rosy granite tower,\n That fronted to a sunny lea,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Blood-red with wild windflower.\n \n Thereon went many quick and dead,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And some who do not die;\n Each wore a garland on the head,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Each laughed within the eye.\n No flower was bent beneath their tread,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No dewy leaf brushed dry.\n \n They passed within the granite gate,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And there was room for all;\n Gawain could see his lady wait,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In green and purple pall.\n As he lit down, the cloud of fate\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Went up from Arthur's hall.\n \n Beneath Gawain his feet seemed lame,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He stumbled and he fell;\n There lived for him a subtle flame\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In every crushed wind-bell.\n She said, \"No marvel, for ye came\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Over the mouth of hell.\"\n \n He saw an altar to the west,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He saw the incense sink,\n And in the bag on the priest's breast\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He heard the silver chink.\n One stood to serve in purple vest,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Whose hands were washed in ink.\n \n Black serpents round the altar ran,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But Judas chanted well,\n And sweetly rang his sacristan\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The silver sacring bell;\n And so the marriage rite began,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Over the pit of hell.\n \n Sweet gusts of music from below\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Lifted the lady's veil;\n Soft sudden flakes of rosy snow\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Flecked the black serpent's mail.\n 'Mid happy faces all aglow\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The bridegroom's face was pale.\n \n The altar sank beneath the floor,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Arose the marriage feast,\n Sweeter and merrier and more\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The melody increased;\n None started as grim graveworms tore\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The sacristan and priest.\n \n In shifting many-coloured light,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Too bright to look upon,\n You saw the guests, you saw the knight,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Where that wild radiance shone;\n You did not see the lady bright\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Who reigns in Avalon.\n \n Yet all, as though beneath her eye,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Were busy to rejoice;\n And now the music mounted high\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To glorify her choice,\n Who felt the dragon sliding by,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And heard the lady's voice.\n \n A moment not a guest was seen\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Within the marriage room;\n A moment, and the magic sheen\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Faded in magic gloom,\n Through which, half seen, the fairy queen\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Scattered a sweet perfume.\n \n Gawain bent low for courtesie,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And thanked her for her grace;\n He laid his hand upon her knee\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And looked into her face,\n And wondered if he did not see\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The dragon in her place.\n \n The lady his weak hand hath ta'en,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And bidden him be of cheer;\n He asked her, \"Is the dragon slain?\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She said, \"He is not here.\n The dragon will not waste again\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In Arthur's golden year.\"\n \n Arose a happy fairy sound,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As of a little well\n By the first break of spring unbound;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Cool flowers began to swell\n From underneath the burning ground,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To veil the mouth of hell.\n \n The moon above the misty lea\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hung like a globe of fire,\n Whereby Gawain a hag might see\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In ghastly gay attire,\n Whose wrinkled face flushed horribly\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With jubilant desire.\n \n He knew her, for she held the hand\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He gave to one more fair;\n He knew her by the magic band\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0His lady used to wear,\n With jewels from an unknown land\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Bound in her raven hair.\n \n Fondly she lisped, \"My honey knight,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It needs not to rehearse\n Wherefore I lifted up the blight,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And took away the curse,\n Because ye took me in God's sight\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For better and for worse.\n \n \"Though thou be very fair to see,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And I a loathly crone,\n Yet what is that to thee and me\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Before King Arthur's throne?\n And when I hunger after thee,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I hunger for mine own.\"\n \n Gawain, the knight of courtesie,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Bowed down his stately head,\n And said, \"Sweet wife, most certainly\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We in God's sight are wed,\"\n As he drew back the canopy\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Over the bridal bed.\n \n Full still he lay till break of day\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In counterfeited bliss,\n Nor turned his loyal cheek away\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From any loathly kiss,\n And saw the while the lightnings play,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And heard her serpents hiss.\n \n There lay beside Gawain at morn\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A maiden undefiled,\n As rosy as the blooming thorn\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When eves in May are mild;\n As tender as the babe unborn,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To life scarce reconciled.\n \n Her brow was veiled with woven brass,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And bonds were on the hands,\n Which held an emerald hourglass\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Wherein few golden sands;\n Her feet seemed quivering to pass\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Into untravelled lands.\n \n She kissed her husband thick and fast\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0On lip and brow and cheek,\n Her captive arms round him she cast,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And then she tried to speak,\n Until the love came out at last,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Although the voice was weak.\n \n \"Wilt have by day a lovely may,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0By night a loathly crone,\n That other men may see and say,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0His bride becomes a throne;\n Or have me foul for them by day,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And fair for thee alone?\"\n \n He thought, \"Whate'er my choice may be,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I cannot choose but ill,\n For she by slight of Grammarie\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Would fool my simple skill.\"\n He said, \"This is too hard for me,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Use your own gentle will.\"\n \n Oh, sweetly smiled the lady then,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And sweetly laughed the lea,\n Sweet roses veiled the dragon's den;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Henceforth my face shall be\n Fair when I will for other men,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And all day long for thee!\"\n \n She laughed, \"'Tis well ye did not play\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When Arthur lost the game,\n For you have guessed aright to-day\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The wish of every dame.\"\n \"Yet,\" said Gawain, \"I cannot say\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0My lady's lovesome name.\"\n \n The colours of the dragon's mail\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Flashed in the dewy grass;\n The lady's face flushed red and pale,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"And I had hoped, alas!\n That thou shouldst rend the brazen veil,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And loose the bonds of glass.\n \n \"Ah! woe is me, it may not be,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And I have loved thee so;\n But henceforth thou shalt never see\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0My footprints where I go,\n To wake the flowers upon the lea,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And kiss away the snow.\"\n \n He smiled farewell, her colour rose;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She cried aloud, \"For shame!\n I sojourn seven years with those\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Who do not ask my name.\n Hence with thee and thy painted shows;\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hence by the road ye came!\n \n \"Go home and boast in Caerleon,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Below thy courtly breath,\n About the bonny bride ye won,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For whom hell hungereth!\n But come no more to Avalon,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For that will be thy death.\"\n \n Low fell the veil of woven brass,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0On heavy eyelids bound;\n On folded hands the bonds of glass\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Clanked softly without sound;\n And so Gawain beheld her pass\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Over the dewy ground.\n \n \n \n Next: The Farewell of Ganore, by George Augustus Simcox [1869]","title":"Arthurian Miscellany: Gawain and the Lady of Avalon, by George Augustus Simcox [1869]","type":"page"}