Punch - Volume 25 (Jul-Dec 1853)

by Various

A NEW CHAPTER IN THE ROMANCE OF KING ARTHUR.

Showing how the Round Table moved of its own accord, and of the terrible Adventure of the Rapping Spirits, and how Sir Lancelot took upon him the quest of a Medium.

Lordings, who a milder folly than your fathers knew have found,

And, where they had pushed the bottle, only push the table round;

Gentle (ay, and simple) Ladies, who, when Rapping Spirits come

To relieve the weary, dreary tedium of the rout or drum,

Rapt in admiration listen, half in wonder, half in fear,

Lest there should be "something wicked" mingled with a sport so dear;

Sages, who, with show of reason, 'gainst all reason can discourse

Of ideo-motor systems, motive wills, and vital force;

Dupes of every age and clime, whate'er your station, sex, or years,

Lend me all your strength of credence, all your wondrous length of ears,

Whilst of things that in the old time in King Arthur's court befel,

Till his very table moved, a veritable tale I tell.

Good King Arthur had a custom, whence he swerved not in the least,

That the morn should bring the tourney, and the noon should bring the feast,

For he knew his knights, aye ready for the battle or the board,

Were as prompt with knife and cleaver as with battle-axe and sword,

With the same good will would carve a haunch and cut a foeman down,

And with equal satisfaction crack a marrow-bone or crown;

Or with smiles and winks would bid them listen to the nasal tune

Of the King, who dozed—"his custom always of an afternoon."

Thus in Camelot around the great loo table in the hall

Just thrice fifty knights were daily ranged by Kaye the Seneschal,

Whilst King Arthur in the centre of the table took his seat,

That he might the better notice if his knights were off their meat.

'Twas a sultry day in summer: e'en the castle's massive walls

Could not keep the heat from out the lofty corridors and halls:

Open were the doors and windows (partly for the sake of air,

Partly that the baser people might behold them dining there,

For in high baronial state but little pleasure would there be

If a crowd of reverential paupers were not there to see),

And the sunlight, pouring through them, on the shining armour gleamed

Gleamed on all the banners bright that over every chieftain streamed,

Gleamed upon the golden flagons, and the monarch's flashing sword

Laid before him, and his silver beard down flowing on the board.

Floating in there came a murmur, of the trees that whispered near,

Of the river babbling to the reeds in accents low but clear,

Of the birds, and of sweet silver voices from the green alcove,

Where Ginevra and her maidens prattled of their champions' love.

Silent were the knights, and in that happy meditative mood,

Which an ample meal induces, each his brother warriors viewed,

Thus they sat, and each upon the table laid his brawny hand,

Idly musing, till Sir Tor, the youngest of the mighty band,

Crying, "Why, the table's moving!" pressed against Sir Dinadan

Sitting next him, and impelled him gently towards the good King Ban.

Ban on Bors, and Bors on Pelles, Pelles on Sir Gareth leant;

Gareth, bending over Gawain, Gawain over Tristrem bent;

Thus as each, from each escaping, other upon other drove,

All, in what logicians call a vicious circle, 'gan to rove,

And the table, twirling with them, seemed to each excited mind,

Though they pushed it on beside them, to be leaving them behind.

Fast and faster flew the table; faster every champion flew,

Till the swords, the helms, the banners, flagons, dishes, faces too,

Merged in one vast whirling body, many-hued and globiform,

(Like an old Cartesian whirlwind, or a rotatory storm),

With King Arthur in the centre, twirling in his royal chair,

And his great beard like a pennon streaming on the troubled air.

So till now they had been whirling, puffing, stamping, night and day:

But Sir Ector tripping, stumbled suddenly on proud Sir Kaye:

As the first impulsive push went, so the fall went circling round,

Till the knights, each prone on each like cards, lay panting on the ground.

"Certes!" said the good King Arthur, soon as he had breath to speak,

And had wiped the dust from off his draggled beard and pallid cheek,

"Certes! These be great adventures, such as I remember not,

Ever since the death of Merlin, to have come to Camelot;

One 'Seat Perilous' he fashioned, when he framed this board for me;

But, if thus it takes to moving, perilous each seat will be.

Doth its wild unwonted motion then portend some dire mishap?

Doth some hidden danger threaten to our crown?"—A sudden rap

Low but clear within the wall the monarch's wise discourse broke down

Saying, plain as rap could say, "A rap is threatened to thy crown."

"Perdy!" said the startled monarch. "What strange visitant thus shocks

All our ears at such a moment? It must be the ghost of—" Knocks

Two or three upon the wall came, ere "of Merlin," he could say.

Then Sir Lancelot stepped before him, as the echoes died away.

"If a knight should fly from knocks, 'twould surely be a parlous shame,"

Said he. "Wherefore to accomplish this adventure I shall claim.

I will take my horse and spear and journey down to Caer Lud,

Where 'Linette, the damsel sauvage,'[1] dwells beside the Fleet's clear flood;

All the meaning of this marvel she shall tell, and let me see

All the glories of the future, and the wonders that shall be.

Ho! Sir Butler, bring me quickly four men's shares of wine and meat,

That, as much as may suffice me for my journey, I may eat."

Seemed to him, as forth he journeyed, that the land was passing strange;

Was it sooth, or was it glamour that had worked so great a change?

For the moorland and the woodland, where with horse, and hound, and horn,

He had chased the boar and aurochs, glowed with summer's ripening corn;

At the well known fording-places stately bridges stemmed the tide,

Turnpikes, 'stead of knights or giants, barred his way on either side;

Feeble women, damp and dingy, for a trifle came to show

All the ruins of the castles he had kept with many a blow;

And where cross-roads met, and where the best adventures once had been,

Whitewashed sign-posts bade him turn to Frogmore Pound, or Pogis Green.

Now and then athwart his course came, with a rumble and a scream,

Green and golden creatures, glaring fierce, and breathing fire and steam,

Seemed that each was dragging on a thousand victims at the least:

"By my knighthood," quoth Sir Lancelot, "this must be 'the questing beast;'

Something rusty have I grown by dwelling there at peace so long,

For ever eating of the fat, and ever drinking of the strong,

Yet with stout and knightly valour I shall dress me to the fight;"

But, before his lance was couched, "the questing beast" was out of sight.

So he journeyed till, one evening, from the hill-top looking down

As the setting sun in gold and crimson bathed the mighty town

All the spires, and masts, and towers (that seemed as they had lent the skies

Gauds from London's wealth to deck them) flashed upon his wond'ring eyes.

"This adventure," said Sir Lancelot, "I may scarcely understand,"

So he wisely brought his good sword closer to his strong right hand.

To "Linette the damsel Sauvage" who abode on Ludgate Hill,

He arrived at length by dint of wondrous toil and care and skill;

In a four-pair back she dwelt, and it was noted on her door,

That she held "mesmeriques séances" every afternoon at four.

Seemed that she was greatly altered from the blooming girl who brought

Fair Dame Lyons and Sir Gareth home to Royal Arthur's Court

She whose witchcraft (witch they called her) in her beauty seemed to lie;

Red, but not with bloom, her cheek was; bright, but not with health, her eye,

And her mouth, whose slightest smile had won the hearts of Arthur's train,

By its pale thin lips' quick tremor half confessed the inward pain.

Much she laughed, when Lancelot told her what had brought him to her door,

And how Arthur's famous knights had sprawled upon the sandy floor.

"Though," said she, "my quick clairvoyant spirit saw the merry scene,

And I heard you ask each other what the mystic raps might mean;

So I cast a glamour round you, that your dazzled eyes might see

All the glories of the future, and the wonders that shall be.

Ask not why the table moved or what the mystic raps may be;

Marvels, such as these, we Media can't explain without a fee;

But be sure, these things that fright thee in the future shall not fail

To avenge thee on the men who'll deem thy fame an idle tale.

Though the men of future ages you and yours shall despise,

They shall not be wholly prescient, and not altogether wise;

Some defect, to prove them human, shall their brightest plans deface;

Follies worthy of the weakest, shall the wisest age disgrace;

And as if some superstition still the human brain must bother,

They shall but shake off one folly to be taken with another,

So that those, who all the tales of Arthur as mere lies reprove,

Shall believe his great round table by his knights' mere will could move."

As she spoke the glamour faded, and Sir Lancelot saw the moor

And the woodland stretching out for many a league his road before;

Many a sign of knoll and headland marked an old familiar spot,

So, upon the vision musing, back he rode to Camelot.

[1] This historical personage was apparently the first landlady of the Belle Sauvage.

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