Tales from Tennyson

by Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson

Lancelot smiled a moment. "If you'll give me the pleasure of your company over the downs where I lost myself I'll be glad to have you as a friend and guide. You shall win the diamond if you can and then give it to your sister if you wish."

"Such diamonds are for queens and not for simple little girls," said Sir Torre.

Elaine flushed at this and Lancelot said, "If beautiful things are for beautiful people this maiden may wear as fine jewels as there are in the world."

Then the lily maid lifted her eyes and thought that Lancelot was the greatest man that had ever lived. She loved his bruised and bronzed face seamed across with an old sword-cut.

They took the pet knight of Arthur's court into the rude hall of Astolat where they entertained him with their best meats, wines and minstrel melodies. They told him about the dumb old man at the gate, how ten years ago he had warned Astolat of the heathen fighters coming, and how they had all escaped to the woods and lived in a boatman's hut by the river while the old man had been caught and had his tongue cut off.

"Those were dull days," said the Lord of Astolat, "until Arthur came and drove the heathen away."

"O, great Lord!" cried Lavaine to Lancelot, "you fought in those glorious wars with Arthur. Tell us about them!"

So Lancelot told him all about the fight all day long at the white mouth of the river Glenn, the four loud battles on the shore of Duglas where the glorious king wore on his cuirass an emerald carved into Our Lady's head. "On the mount of Badon," he said, "I saw him charge at the head of all of his Round Table and break the heathen hosts. Afterward he stood on a heap of the killed, all red, from his spurs to the plumes of his helmet, with their blood, and he cried to me: 'They are broken! they are broken!' In this heathen war the fire of God filled him, I never saw anyone like him, there is no greater leader."

"Except yourself," thought the lily maid Elaine. All through the night she saw his dark, splendid face living before her eyes and early in the morning she arose as if to bid goodbye to Lavaine, stole step after step down the long tower stairs and passed out to the court where Lancelot was smoothing the glossy shoulders of his horse. She drew nearer and stood in the dewy light, studying his face as though it was a god. He had never dreamed she was so beautiful.