Clemence Housman - The Life of Sir Aglovale de Galis - Chapter XXVII lyrics

WHEN Sir Kay at day made bold to enter, King Arthur lifted a vacant stare. "Who went out late?" he said. Said Kay, "Only Sir Aglovale de Galis, like a foundered beast." "Like a foundered beast," breathed Arthur, and fell to a black brooding. Kay fretted and cursed low, came near and admonished with rough kindness. "How now, Sir Arthur! Show me either the face of my King or the face of my breast-brother." Arthur spoke again low, "Listen, good breast-brother. I have heard tell there was a King to whom a dumb beast turned and spoke as a man." "Yea, so. I have forgot his name. Was it King David or Duke Joshua?" "A great marvel! How went it? This way and that the beast crushed him, and also fell to its knees. And the one took out his sword, saying, 'now will I slay.' And the dumb beast opened speech, saying, 'O fool, I have borne beating three times. O fool, look where you be going. Lo! the sword of God fronts every way.'" "Surely that is Holy Writ." "So it was a great marvel. O Kay! that foundered beast opened his mouth and spoke to confound me!" Sir Kay gasped. Was this King Arthur emitting this poor breath? He stamped and swore in wrath and indignation. "That prating beast!" he cried. "God rot that prating beast!" The bells of Carlisle began to toll. "Ah, God, but keep me my face!" prayed Arthur. Early that morn, before the hour when the Queen should be brought to the fire, Gaheris and Gareth were at the Ma** together, kneeling hard by the bier of Sir Agravaine. One came and kneeled behind them, who at the end rose as they did, and followed them down to the crypt, where the bed for interment lay wide. "Sirs, give me leave to speak with one of you." "To which of us two?" "To whichever of you took part with Sir Agravaine in drowning a nobler knight than yourselves." Gareth looked blank surprise at that bold answer, while Gaheris laughed out in savage scorn. "At your own peril! A thick lie yet at your own peril speak out." "Sir, I come to you to amend my fault; for once in a manner I did lie to you. But not now." "Fill up I hear." "I am he who guided you and Sir Agravaine, after you were delivered from most horrible d**h in the quag." Sir Gaheris crossed himself soberly in remembrance. "That was you! Well, oh, well fain would I know you lied then?" "In a manner, yes." "Concerning? You vowed it was by miracle!" "Sir, I did. Sir, I deceived you. I knew it was a living man who delivered you. Yet oh, sir, to me that was the miracle of it!" "Who who? Why did you lie? Who tell me who?" "He willed you should not know. He put out the light to escape from you in the dark. And seeing that, I came to beguile you." "Who was he?" "He willed you should not know." "I will know I must know." "Sir, you shall not know with my will." Sir Gaheris caught him by the sleeve and unsheathed his sword. "Tell me his name." Said Sir Gareth, "Be not hasty, brother. The young clerk does not ill in keeping trust." "I take no keep for that! He owes me answer; he fooled and beguiled us falsely and impudently. But for him I had followed and known. And alas! we have sinned, presuming to say one came from Heaven to our aid. Yet I ever doubted. God pardon us! and namely Sir Agravaine dead." Said Sir Gareth to Clerk Hew, "Consider now, may you not honour the deed above the word, and so speak to override an excess of humility; for the deed was marvellous great and good." "It was it was! and beyond all that you do conceive almost beyond belief. For the love of God he did it wholly, and by the grace of God." "His name!" cried Gaheris, pa**ionately. "Give me his name! I will know. Here! I will afford you good enough excuse for breach of faith." He touched the young clerk sharply on the neck with his blade. Gareth pulled down his hand. Said he, "How were you charged? and why did you speak at all?" "Sir, when I told what fooling I had done, he I will not name was ill pleased; and he bade me at first undeceive again if ever I might. But when I asked after your names he would not give them, and so had to set me excused from that order. And him he forbade me to name." Said Gaheris, "Who then taught you to know, since he did not?" "Sir Agravaine spoke to him, and I heard. God forgive him! he spoke hideously, dying as he was." "Sir Agravaine knew!" "Ah no, no! It was in ignorance he did not know. Alas! he died and never knew!" "Sir Agravaine dying spoke to him to him hideously." Gaheris loosed the young man and stood stock-still, revolving at all points the tangle of mystery. He turned to his brother; he was looking in his face for help; he was looking wild-eyed for rescue. "Ah, my God!" he said, shuddered and choked, and his face grew d**hly. Came, hardly above a whisper, "One thing more tell me only one. Tell me it was not Sir Aglovale." Silence was answer enough. "Ah, my God!" cried Gaheris, again. "Not he! Tell me it was not he not that scab, Sir Aglovale." At that Clerk Hew let go restraint; he bent his head, affirming with something of a fleer. "Oh, you lie!" cried Gaheris; "again you lie! Who stuffed you with this monstrous tale? Did he Sir Aglovale? Own it all a lie, and I forgive. Own it, or I slay." Gareth bade the young clerk go quickly for his life; by force he held back his brother. "Wherefore such fury? Fair brother, tell me, for I am all lost and amazed. This is marvellous showing to Sir Aglovale." "Ah, Gareth, Gareth, you do not know not the half it is past belief. Would to God it were not true! Yet for token that it is true, Sir Aglovale wants the use of his left hand, that was his better hand once. I we oh, Gareth drowning that was all but true. We did it! Agravaine and I drowned him like a dog, with a stone at his neck." "You did that to him who had saved you? God forgive it! Yet you did not know." "God in heaven! But, brother, we did that, and then then he saved us that same night." "Sir Aglovale! He did that for you who had drowned him like a dog, with a stone at his neck!" "Gareth, Gareth, it was I that defaced him for all his days. He fought like a wild beast we all three and so I did it. Yet that night he came and reached out his hand to me and saved us perilously, all wounded as he was. Why did he do it? I am beaten out and out." He was like a wild creature, stung and maddened by a barb working in deeper at every turn. He entered the grave, kneeled and took the earth with his hands. "Agravaine has the better bed to lie in." He sprang up and away to stand above his dead brother and groan, "Oh, poor fool! Oh, poor fools are we all!" After him went Gareth, and got him away out of the church, out of the city, and brought him to the quiet of field and sky, and by degrees took from him all the shameful story. Too noble a knight was Sir Gareth to stand in the counsels of his brothers who were all named murderers, yet for pity and for brotherhood he made no reproach to Gaheris in his misery. "His silence knocks me!" cried Gaheris. " These years of silence silence under all manner of despite. Face to face he might have spoken and broken us then and there and he would not. God knows I was never so base but I would have published his worship to my own shame; but silence, silence for ever. His broken face, his useless hand they do blast and crush the pattern of our knighthood of the Round Table. "I cannot bear him. I hate him. I hate, I hate. God forgive me. I never hated him so before, but despised. Ah, Gareth, cry shame, but this is truth: I am torn asunder; I worship and I hate him with equal strength, and know that for any worship or hate of mine he cares nothing at all." The bells of Carlisle began to toll, and the pa**ion of Gaheris was chilled and overborne at the woeful signal calling them to witness the d**h of Queen Guenever. Knights came riding afield to take their station about the mount where stack and stake stood up to view. In sombre fashion they came, with salutations grave and brief. Names were pa**ed telling of default in their muster. There was no battle ardour at all; knights were stark and grim, looking for deadly work; but none were fain, and some lagged with bent head, sad and silent, as half their heart and half their friends were against them with Launcelot. Said one, "Alas! I deem Sir Palamides and Sir Safere are gone, for yonder comes their brother Sir Sagwarides alone and pa**ing heavy." Said another, "Sir Pertilope and Sir Perimones come, but I see not their best brother, Sir Persant of Inde. Howbeit, he would not for Sir Gareth's sake take any part against King Arthur." No eye could perceive any sign of Launcelot. A silver mist hung low on the meadow ; trees at the trunk stood dim that aloft swung golden against the blue. Gaheris stood still at gaze and stiffened. "Lo! mine enemy." Said Gareth, "Sooth and fie! He! Ought he to come against Sir Launcelot?" "Ah, Gareth," said Gaheris, at hush, "I would lay down my life for hate of that dreadful man; and for to worship him well with my body." He hung his head and sobbed some prayer to his breast. He lifted his head, and down the slope stalked softly as a young lion to the herd. After him went Gareth. Three abreast came riding across the dewy turf, their faces still unbarred. Sir Tor and Sir Hermind rode on either side of Sir Aglovale. He bore himself erect, but he carried no spear, and his face was dewed with weakness, aged, and ghastly grey. He looked straight ahead, but the two beside gave to him many a careful glance, and so did Sir Griflet, who was following near. Gaheris came down looking neither right nor left, stood the ground fronting Aglovale, and had him eye to eye. Very courteously and deliberately Gaheris gave him salutation. Aglovale paused a moment, then faintly gave him salutation again. Sir Tor and Sir Hermind also stopped short, greatly amazed, for they all knew how Sir Gaheris had never accorded salutation since that day of disgrace, when he had refused battle with Sir Aglovale for scorn. Said Gaheris, "Sir Aglovale de Galis, I would have ado with you." Said Aglovale, "Sir, in what manner?" "Sir, in the manner of noble knights." "Sir, to what intent?" "Deadly, sir, deadly." The solemn bells of Carlisle smote in upon suspense, for Sir Aglovale paused before he put the main question. Sir Gaheris was white with pa**ion, and quivered like an eager war-horse. His noble brother Sir Gareth stood attentive near him, and gravely and steadily his clear eyes measured the two as they spoke. Said Aglovale at last, "Sir, on what matter?" "Sir Aglovale, on a matter you did in the dark and that shall see the light." At that Aglovale sighed heavily, deeming he spoke under cover on resentment for the King his uncle. But Gaheris went on. "In the presence of God above, and of four good knights, I do swear and declare that by you I have been poisoned. God's truth! you have poisoned me to d**h. Poison, poison! Aye, sir, do you stare in my face now, to see how it works? Look you! good knights and fellows, how it shows on this face of mine: on these members touched with palsy; yet you see not how it works in my veins, and gnaws at this heart of mine like a snake. And this, ah deed of darkness! this poison you gave me to receive in the body of my Saviour. In ghostly disguise yourself you gave, and I received and was thankful, not knowing. And so did Sir Agravaine, who died and never knew. As God is above, this is truth!" "As God is above," said Aglovale, slowly, "I understand not what you say." "Sir, you shall understand well enough to-morn. I will have my remedy of you, or one of us two shall die. I need a little morsel of your heart to sain me. God helping, I will get it; yea, and warm will I get it from you; so only can my torment cease from me in this life." In vain did Aglovale search his meaning, it lay dark to him; for he looked too near, so he got no light. "Sir Gaheris," said Tor, then, "I would have you know Sir Aglovale is in no case to do battle to-morn, for pure weakness, albeit his heart is so great he bears arms to-day with us. Therefore for your own worship forbear your ado with him, and very heartily I will content you, and put you from your pains, and prove upon your body that you have spoken against him the most infamous and profane slander that ever knight uttered before God and man." "Sir Gaheris," said Sir Hermind, "I am ready and fain to prove with my body that Sir Aglovale is more clean and clear from all villainy than are any of the sons of Lot." "Sir Gaheris," said Sir Griflet, with his great voice, "you lie, and you know you lie. And that will I make so good upon your body that you shall lie still enough till Doomsday." "Fair sirs," said Gaheris, "I have fewer fair witnesses than I thought, and more fair enemies. Well, I pray you all to be ready to renew this language before King Arthur to-morn, as I on my part will also. But I bid you consider you have yet to hear how Sir Aglovale will answer. And Sir Griflet namely I bid bethink him how he held such language to me once before, and how the debate was off my hands when Sir Aglovale answered for himself." That old shame could still tint Aglovale's cheek a little. "Sir Gaheris," he said, "I will answer with my body if King Arthur approve the question. Yet this day there is overmuch danger and dread for any of us to reckon to meet on the morrow." "Ah sir, but you shall not escape me. I promise you we shall meet. Though you were dead and damned, Sir Aglovale, I would go after you to Hell to get at your heart there." The words, with the pa**ion shaking them, took the hearers' breath; and again upon silence the knell sounded clear. Gaheris swung to go, faltered, stepped near, and before Aglovale was aware, had him by the left hand and was handling it. "Yet by this hand I swear," he said softly, and looked up with eyes that were humid, "by this hand I swear I think Hell will be an empty hole, if only God Almighty can be as greatly merciful as you, Sir Aglovale." With that he went. "God Almighty!" whispered Aglovale, enlightened, and rested stunned. When Gareth overtook Gaheris he questioned, "In Heaven's name, fair brother, what are you about to do? And have you done well?" "No. Spare to rebuke me, Gareth. No no rather ill; yet the best I could, God knows." "Foul slander!" "Right fair slander! Nay, true every word, and that he knows, or shall know." "Open out your heart to me. Will you verily have him out to battle?" "That I will. And I will overcome him; and I will have him at my mercy. And then ah, Gareth, then before King and fellows, I will kneel and yield myself to him, and my sword into his hands." "Good!" said Gareth. "And then?" Gaheris wrung his hands. "Then, then he will forgive me my life openly!" His voice broke in a sob, and his eyes sparkled wet. "Put case he avenge openly and slay you?" "Then and well he may I charge you suffer not Sir Gawaine to avenge my d**h. Ah, Gareth! ah, Gareth!" "Good," said Gareth, again, "yea, such dealing is right fair and knightly." His own eyes grew moist, and he closed brotherly to say, "Sooth, Gaheris! you have got a little of that heart of his already. God grant you enough, and mend us all." So they took thought for the morrow while the bells were knelling the day. "God Almighty!" whispered Aglovale, again. "Hand of God!" He quite forgot his fellows, and they hearing him breathe the name of his Maker over and over again, bowed head devoutly and waited. They had to call him to himself at last, and plainly from very far away he came. With a look of blank wonder he came, that never after quite left him, and at his d**h was sealed clear upon his visage. Tor looked at him once. "Close your vizard, fair brother," he said gently. "It is meet we do so now." So they cased up their faces and set on. High-headed went Aglovale, inhaling deeply, for he had wonderful thoughts; and those three true-hearted friends paced along, enduring his silence without question. He remembered them, and said, "O good my brother and friends! I do thank you greatly for your goodwill." "We have dealt in the dark," said Tor. "What meant Sir Gaheris by that he said?" "That he said hand of God!" muttered Aglovale; and again he was lost in his wonder, and again he remembered them. "Bear with me, for Sir Gaheris has knocked hard to stunning; but he knew not what he said." "He uttered a monstrous charge against you." "Aye, so he did; and called me to battle. So he did; and right wittily and well." "Have you come to understanding?" "I understand him well enough. By this hand, yes! Yet what to think of him I know not. Take ye no thought for to-morrow. It may come, flush or dark, for my ending or my mending, according to the heart of Sir Gaheris. But to-morrow lies a great way off, for to-day we have to strike against Sir Launcelot." He mused awhile, sighed, and shook his head. "It is no use, Sir Gaheris. It is no use at all."