To whom the King Leodogran replied, “O friend, had I been holpen half as well By this King Arthur as by thee today, Then beast and man had had their share of me: But summon here before us yet once more Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere.”

Then, when they came before him, the King said, “I have seen the cuckoo chased by lesser fowl, And reason in the chase: but wherefore now Do these your lords stir up the heat of war, Some calling Arthur born of Gorlois, Others of Anton? Tell me, ye yourselves, Hold ye this Arthur for King Uther’s son?”

And Ulfius and Brastias answered, “Ay.” Then Bedivere, the first of all his knights Knighted by Arthur at his crowning, spake— For bold in heart and act and word was he, Whenever slander breathed against the King—

“Sir, there be many rumours on this head: For there be those who hate him in their hearts, Call him baseborn, and since his ways are sweet, And theirs are bestial, hold him less than man: And there be those who deem him more than man, And dream he dropt from heaven: but my belief In all this matter—so ye care to learn— Sir, for ye know that in King Uther’s time The prince and warrior Gorlois, he that held Tintagil castle by the Cornish sea, Was wedded with a winsome wife, Ygerne: And daughters had she borne him,—one whereof, Lot’s wife, the Queen of Orkney, Bellicent, Hath ever like a loyal sister cleaved To Arthur,—but a son she had not borne. And Uther cast upon her eyes of love: But she, a stainless wife to Gorlois, So loathed the bright dishonour of his love, That Gorlois and King Uther went to war: And overthrown was Gorlois and slain. Then Uther in his wrath and heat besieged Ygerne within Tintagil, where her men, Seeing the mighty swarm about their walls, Left her and fled, and Uther entered in, And there was none to call to but himself. So, compassed by the power of the King, Enforced was she to wed him in her tears, And with a shameful swiftness: afterward, Not many moons, King Uther died himself, Moaning and wailing for an heir to rule After him, lest the realm should go to wrack. And that same night, the night of the new year, By reason of the bitterness and grief That vext his mother, all before his time Was Arthur born, and all as soon as born Delivered at a secret postern-gate To Merlin, to be holden far apart Until his hour should come; because the lords Of that fierce day were as the lords of this, Wild beasts, and surely would have torn the child Piecemeal among them, had they known; for each But sought to rule for his own self and hand, And many hated Uther for the sake Of Gorlois. Wherefore Merlin took the child, And gave him to Sir Anton, an old knight And ancient friend of Uther; and his wife Nursed the young prince, and reared him with her own; And no man knew. And ever since the lords Have foughten like wild beasts among themselves, So that the realm has gone to wrack: but now, This year, when Merlin (for his hour had come) Brought Arthur forth, and set him in the hall, Proclaiming, ‘Here is Uther’s heir, your king,’ A hundred voices cried, ‘Away with him! No king of ours! a son of Gorlois he, Or else the child of Anton, and no king, Or else baseborn.’ Yet Merlin through his craft, And while the people clamoured for a king, Had Arthur crowned; but after, the great lords Banded, and so brake out in open war.”

Then while the King debated with himself If Arthur were the child of shamefulness, Or born the son of Gorlois, after death, Or Uther’s son, and born before his time, Or whether there were truth in anything Said by these three, there came to Cameliard, With Gawain and young Modred, her two sons, Lot’s wife, the Queen of Orkney, Bellicent; Whom as he could, not as he would, the King Made feast for, saying, as they sat at meat,

“A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas. Ye come from Arthur’s court. Victor his men Report him! Yea, but ye—think ye this king— So many those that hate him, and so strong, So few his knights, however brave they be— Hath body enow to hold his foemen down?”

“O King,” she cried, “and I will tell thee: few, Few, but all brave, all of one mind with him; For I was near him when the savage yells Of Uther’s peerage died, and Arthur sat Crowned on the dais, and his warriors cried, ‘Be thou the king, and we will work thy will Who love thee.’ Then the King in low deep tones, And simple words of great authority, Bound them by so strait vows to his own self, That when they rose, knighted from kneeling, some Were pale as at the passing of a ghost, Some flushed, and others dazed, as one who wakes Half-blinded at the coming of a light.

“But when he spake and cheered his Table Round With large, divine, and comfortable words, Beyond my tongue to tell thee—I beheld From eye to eye through all their Order flash A momentary likeness of the King: And ere it left their faces, through the cross And those around it and the Crucified, Down from the casement over Arthur, smote Flame-colour, vert and azure, in three rays, One falling upon each of three fair queens, Who stood in silence near his throne, the friends Of Arthur, gazing on him, tall, with bright Sweet faces, who will help him at his need.

“And there I saw mage Merlin, whose vast wit And hundred winters are but as the hands Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege.

“And near him stood the Lady of the Lake, Who knows a subtler magic than his own— Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. She gave the King his huge cross-hilted sword, Whereby to drive the heathen out: a mist Of incense curled about her, and her face Wellnigh was hidden in the minster gloom; But there was heard among the holy hymns A voice as of the waters, for she dwells Down in a deep; calm, whatsoever storms May shake the world, and when the surface rolls, Hath power to walk the waters like our Lord.

“There likewise I beheld Excalibur Before him at his crowning borne, the sword That rose from out the bosom of the lake, And Arthur rowed across and took it—rich With jewels, elfin Urim, on the hilt, Bewildering heart and eye—the blade so bright That men are blinded by it—on one side, Graven in the oldest tongue of all this world, ‘Take me,’ but turn the blade and ye shall see, And written in the speech ye speak yourself, ‘Cast me away!’ And sad was Arthur’s face Taking it, but old Merlin counselled him, ‘Take thou and strike! the time to cast away Is yet far-off.’ So this great brand the king Took, and by this will beat his foemen down.”

Thereat Leodogran rejoiced, but thought To sift his doubtings to the last, and asked, Fixing full eyes of question on her face, “The swallow and the swift are near akin, But thou art closer to this noble prince, Being his own dear sister;” and she said, “Daughter of Gorlois and Ygerne am I;” “And therefore Arthur’s sister?” asked the King. She answered, “These be secret things,” and signed To those two sons to pass, and let them be. And Gawain went, and breaking into song Sprang out, and followed by his flying hair Ran like a colt, and leapt at all he saw: But Modred laid his ear beside the doors, And there half-heard; the same that afterward Struck for the throne, and striking found his doom.

And then the Queen made answer, “What know I? For dark my mother was in eyes and hair, And dark in hair and eyes am I; and dark Was Gorlois, yea and dark was Uther too, Wellnigh to blackness; but this King is fair Beyond the race of Britons and of men. Moreover, always in my mind I hear A cry from out the dawning of my life, A mother weeping, and I hear her say, ‘O that ye had some brother, pretty one, To guard thee on the rough ways of the world.’”

“Ay,” said the King, “and hear ye such a cry? But when did Arthur chance upon thee first?”

“O King!” she cried, “and I will tell thee true: He found me first when yet a little maid: Beaten I had been for a little fault Whereof I was not guilty; and out I ran And flung myself down on a bank of heath, And hated this fair world and all therein, And wept, and wished that I were dead; and he— I know not whether of himself he came, Or brought by Merlin, who, they say, can walk Unseen at pleasure—he was at my side, And spake sweet words, and comforted my heart, And dried my tears, being a child with me. And many a time he came, and evermore As I grew greater grew with me; and sad At times he seemed, and sad with him was I, Stern too at times, and then I loved him not, But sweet again, and then I loved him well. And now of late I see him less and less, But those first days had golden hours for me, For then I surely thought he would be king.

“But let me tell thee now another tale: For Bleys, our Merlin’s master, as they say, Died but of late, and sent his cry to me, To hear him speak before he left his life. Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay the mage; And when I entered told me that himself And Merlin ever served about the King, Uther, before he died; and on the night When Uther in Tintagil past away Moaning and wailing for an heir, the two Left the still King, and passing forth to breathe, Then from the castle gateway by the chasm Descending through the dismal night—a night In which the bounds of heaven and earth were lost— Beheld, so high upon the dreary deeps It seemed in heaven, a ship, the shape thereof A dragon winged, and all from stern to stern Bright with a shining people on the decks, And gone as soon as seen. And then the two Dropt to the cove, and watched the great sea fall, Wave after wave, each mightier than the last, Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame: And down the wave and in the flame was borne A naked babe, and rode to Merlin’s feet, Who stoopt and caught the babe, and cried ‘The King! Here is an heir for Uther!’ And the fringe Of that great breaker, sweeping up the strand, Lashed at the wizard as he spake the word, And all at once all round him rose in fire, So that the child and he were clothed in fire. And presently thereafter followed calm, Free sky and stars: ‘And this the same child,’ he said, ‘Is he who reigns; nor could I part in peace Till this were told.’ And saying this the seer Went through the strait and dreadful pass of death, Not ever to be questioned any more Save on the further side; but when I met Merlin, and asked him if these things were truth— The shining dragon and the naked child Descending in the glory of the seas— He laughed as is his wont, and answered me In riddling triplets of old time, and said: