Charles William Bailey - King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table - Part II - The Old Order Changeth lyrics

SCENE I Before the hall [Dagonet dancing. Enter Tristram.] Tristram. Why skip ye so, Sir Fool? Dagonet. Belike for lack of wiser company; Or being fool, and seeing too much wit Makes the world rotten, why, belike I skip To know myself the wisest knight of all. Tristram. Ay, fool, that may be, but 'tis eating dry To dance without a catch, a roundelay To dance to. [Tristram plays on harp. Dagonet stands still.] Why skip ye not, Sir Fool? Dagonet. Sir Tristram, I had liefer twenty years Skip to the broken music of my brains Than any broken music thou canst make. Tristram [waiting for the quip]. Good now, what music have I broken, fool? Dagonet. Arthur, the King's; For when thou playest that air with Queen Isolt, Thou makest broken music with thy bride, Her daintier namesake down in Brittany-- And so thou breakest Arthur's music too. Tristram. Sir Fool, I swear it, I would break thy head, Save for that broken music in thy brains. Fool, I came late, the heathen wars were o'er, The life had flown, we sware but by the shell­-- I am but a fool to reason with a fool-- Come, thou art crabbed and sour: but lean me down, Sir Dagonet, one of thy long a**es' ears, And hearken if my music be not true. Song-- Free love--free field--we love but while we may: The woods are hush'd, their music is no more; The leaf is dead, the yearning pa**ed away: New life, new life--the days of frost are o'er; New life, new love, to suit the newer day: Free love--free field--we love but while we may. [Dagonet stands still. ] Tristram. Ye might have moved slow-measure to my tune, Not stood stock-still. I made it in the woods, And heard it ring as true as tested gold. Dagonet [one foot poised in hand]. Friend, did ye mark that fountain yesterday Made to run wine? But this had run itself All out like a long life to a sour end-- And them that round it sat with golden cups, The twelve small damosels white as Innocence­-- . . .And one of those white slips Handed her cup and piped, the pretty one, "Drink, drink, Sir Fool!" and thereupon I drank, Spat--pish--the cup was gold, the draught was mud. Tristram. Was it muddier than thy gibes? Is all the laughter gone dead out of thee? Not marking how the knighthood mock thee, fool-- Fear God: honour the King--his one true knight­-- Sole follower of the vows. Dagonet. Dost thou know the star We call the harp of Arthur, up in heaven? Tristram. Ay, Sir Fool, for when our King Was victor wellnigh day by day, the knights, Glorying in each new glory, set his name High on all hills, and in the signs of heaven. Dagonet. Ay, and when the land Was freed, and the Queen false, ye set yourself To babble about him, all to show your wit-- And whether he were King by courtesy, Or King by right--and so went harping down The black king's highway, got so far, and grew So witty that ye play'd at ducks and drakes With Arthur's vows on the great lake of fire. Tuwhoo! do ye see it? Do ye see the star? Tristram. Nay, fool, of course not--not in open day. Dagonet. Nay, nor will: I see it and hear. It makes a silent music up in heaven, And I, and Arthur, and the angels hear, And then we skip. Tristram. Lo, fool, indeed ye talk Fool's treason: is the King thy brother fool? Dagonet [clapping his hands]. Ay, ay, my brother fool, the king of fools! Conceits himself as God that he can make Figs out of thistles, silk from bristles, milk From burning spurge, honey from hornet-combs, And men from beasts--long live the king of fools! SCENE II In Camelot. After Guinevere's desertion. Arthur. Gone is the Queen who did me grievous wrong, But I was first of all the kings who drew The knighthood-errant of this realm and all The realms together under me, their Head, In that fair Order of my Table Round, A glorious company, the flower of men, To serve as model for the mighty world, And be the fair beginning of a time. I made them lay their hands in mine and swear To reverence the King, as if he were Their conscience, and their conscience as their King, To break up the heathen and uphold the Christ, To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it, To honour his own word as if his God's, To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds, Until they won her: for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden pa**ion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and amiable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes a man. And all this throve before I wedded thee, Believing, "lo mine helpmate, one to feel My purpose, and rejoicing in my joy." Then came thy shameful sin with Lancelot; Then came the sin of Tristram and Isolt; Then others, following these my mightiest knights, And drawing foul ensample from fair names, Sinn'd also, till the loathsome opposite Of all my heart had destined did obtain, And all thro' thee. [Dagonet enters, and falls at Arthur's feet.] What art thou? Dagonet [weeping]. I am thy fool, And I shall never make thee smile again. SCENE III Scene at Almesbury. Nuns and Novice. [Enter Queen Guinevere.] Queen. Mine enemies Pursue me, but, O peaceful Sisterhood, Receive, and yield me sanctuary, nor ask Her name to whom ye yield it, till her time To tell you. [Novice hums "Late, so late."] Queen. O maiden, if indeed ye list to sing, Sing and unbind my heart that I may weep. Novice and Chorus of Nuns-- Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light had we: for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light: so late! and dark and chill the night O let us in, that we may find the light! Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet? O let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet! No, no, too late! ye cannot enter now. Novice. O pray you, noble lady, weep no more; But let my words, the words of one so small, Comfort your sorrows; for they do not flow From evil done; right sure am I of that, Who see your tender grace and stateliness. But weigh your sorrows with our lord the King's, As even here they talk at Almesbury About the good King and his wicked Queen, And were I such a King with such a Queen, Well might I wish to veil her wickedness, But were I such a King, it could not be. Queen [aside]. Will the child k** me with her innocent talk? [Aloud.] Must not I If this false traitor hath displaced his lord, Grieve with the common grief of all the realm? Novice. Yea, this I know, this is all woman's grief, That she is woman, whose disloyal life Hath wrought confusion in the Table Round Which good King Arthur founded, years ago, With signs and miracles and wonders, there At Camelot, ere the coming of the Queen. Queen [aside]. Will the child k** me with her foolish prate? [Aloud.] O little maid, shut in by nunnery walls, What canst thou know of Kings and Tables Round, Or what of signs and wonders, but the signs And simple miracles of thy nunnery? Novice. Yea, but I know: the land was full of signs And wonders ere the coming of the Queen. So said my father, and himself was knight Of the great Table. Queen [bitterly]. Were they so glad? ill prophets were they all, Spirits and men: could none of them foresee, Not even thy wise father with his signs And wonders, what has fall'n upon the realm? Novice. I pray you check me if I ask amiss. I pray you, which was noblest whilst you moved Among them--Lancelot or our lord the King? Queen. Sir Lancelot, as became a noble knight, Was gracious to all ladies, and the same In open battle or the tilting-field Forbore his own advantage, and the King In open battle or the tilting-field Forbore his own advantage, and these two Were the most nobly-manner'd men of all: For manners are not idle, but the fruit Of loyal nature and of noble mind. Novice. If this be so--be manners such fair fruit-- Then Lancelot's needs must be a thousandfold Less noble, being, as all rumour runs, The most disloyal friend in all the world. Queen. O closed about by narrowing nunnery walls, What knowest thou of the world, and all its lights And shadows, all the wealth and all the woe? If ever Lancelot, that most noble knight, Were for one hour less noble than himself, Pray for him that he 'scape the doom of fire, And weep for her who drew him to his doom. Novice. I pray for both; But I should all as soon believe that his, Sir Lancelot's, were as noble as the King's, As I could think, sweet lady, yours would be Such as they are, were you the sinful Queen. Queen. Thou, their tool, set on to plague And play upon, and harry me, petty spy And traitress ... Get thee hence. [Cry: "The King! "] [Enter King Arthur; Guinevere falls at his feet.] Arthur. Oh, think not that I come to urge thy crimes. I did not come to curse thee, Guinevere, I, whose vast pity almost makes me die To see thee, laying there thy golden head, My pride in happier summers, at my feet. The wrath which forced my thoughts on that fierce law, The doom of treason and the flaming d**h (When first I learnt thee hidden there), is past. The pang--which while I weigh'd thy heart with one Too wholly true to dream untruth in thee, Made my tears burn--is also past--in part. And all is past, the sin is sinn'd, and I, Lo! I forgive thee, as Eternal God Forgives: do thou for thine own soul the rest. CURTAIN __________ TABLEAU: THE PASSING OF ARTHUR.