The Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems. William Morris. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: William Morris
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happened on through all those years,

       God knows I speak truth, saying that you lie.

      Being such a lady could I weep these tears

       If this were true? A great queen such as I

       Having sinn'd this way, straight her conscience sears;

      And afterwards she liveth hatefully,

       Slaying and poisoning, certes never weeps:

       Gauwaine be friends now, speak me lovingly.

      Do I not see how God's dear pity creeps

       All through your frame, and trembles in your mouth?

       Remember in what grave your mother sleeps,

      Buried in some place far down in the south,

       Men are forgetting as I speak to you;

       By her head sever'd in that awful drouth

      Of pity that drew Agravaine's fell blow,

       I pray your pity! let me not scream out

       For ever after, when the shrill winds blow

      Through half your castle-locks! let me not shout

       For ever after in the winter night

       When you ride out alone! in battle-rout

      Let not my rusting tears make your sword light!

       Ah! God of mercy, how he turns away!

       So, ever must I dress me to the fight,

      So: let God's justice work! Gauwaine, I say,

       See me hew down your proofs: yea all men know

       Even as you said how Mellyagraunce one day,

      One bitter day in la Fausse Garde, for so All good knights held it after, saw: Yea, sirs, by cursed unknightly outrage; though

      You, Gauwaine, held his word without a flaw,

       This Mellyagraunce saw blood upon my bed:

       Whose blood then pray you? is there any law

      To make a queen say why some spots of red

       Lie on her coverlet? or will you say:

       Your hands are white, lady, as when you wed,

      Where did you bleed? and must I stammer out, Nay,

       I blush indeed, fair lord, only to rend

       My sleeve up to my shoulder, where there lay

      A knife-point last night: so must I defend

       The honour of the Lady Guenevere?

       Not so, fair lords, even if the world should end

      This very day, and you were judges here

       Instead of God. Did you see Mellyagraunce

       When Launcelot stood by him? what white fear

      Curdled his blood, and how his teeth did dance,

       His side sink in? as my knight cried and said:

       Slayer of unarm'd men, here is a chance!

      Setter of traps, I pray you guard your head,

       By God I am so glad to fight with you,

       Stripper of ladies, that my hand feels lead

      For driving weight; hurrah now! draw and do,

       For all my wounds are moving in my breast,

       And I am getting mad with waiting so.

      He struck his hands together o'er the beast,

       Who fell down flat, and grovell'd at his feet,

       And groan'd at being slain so young: At least,

      My knight said, rise you, sir, who are so fleet

       At catching ladies, half-arm'd will I fight,

       My left side all uncovered! then I weet,

      Up sprang Sir Mellyagraunce with great delight

       Upon his knave's face; not until just then

       Did I quite hate him, as I saw my knight

      Along the lists look to my stake and pen

       With such a joyous smile, it made me sigh

       From agony beneath my waist-chain, when

      The fight began, and to me they drew nigh;

       Ever Sir Launcelot kept him on the right,

       And traversed warily, and ever high

      And fast leapt caitiff's sword, until my knight

       Sudden threw up his sword to his left hand,

       Caught it, and swung it; that was all the fight,

      Except a spout of blood on the hot land;

       For it was hottest summer; and I know

       I wonder'd how the fire, while I should stand,

      And burn, against the heat, would quiver so,

       Yards above my head; thus these matters went;

       Which things were only warnings of the woe

      That fell on me. Yet Mellyagraunce was shent,

       For Mellyagraunce had fought against the Lord;

       Therefore, my lords, take heed lest you be blent

      With all this wickedness; say no rash word

       Against me, being so beautiful; my eyes,

       Wept all away to grey, may bring some sword

      To drown you in your blood; see my breast rise,

       Like waves of purple sea, as here I stand;

       And how my arms are moved in wonderful wise,

      Yea also at my full heart's strong command,

       See through my long throat how the words go up

       In ripples to my mouth; how in my hand

      The shadow lies like wine within a cup

       Of marvellously colour'd gold; yea now

       This little wind is rising, look you up,

      And wonder how the light is falling so

       Within my moving tresses: will you dare,

       When you have looked a little on my brow,

      To say this thing is vile? or will you care

       For any plausible lies of cunning woof,

       When you can see my face with no lie there

      For ever? am I not a gracious proof:

       But in your chamber Launcelot was found:

       Is there a good knight then would stand aloof,

      When a queen says with gentle queenly sound:

       O true as steel come now and talk with me,

       I love to see your step upon the ground

      Unwavering, also well I love to see

       That gracious smile light up your face, and hear

       Your wonderful words, that all mean verily

      The thing they seem to mean: good friend, so dear

       To me in everything, come here to-night,

       Or else the hours will pass most dull and drear;

      If you come not, I fear this time I might

       Get thinking over much of times gone by,

       When I was young, and green hope was in sight:

      For no man cares now to know why I sigh;

       And no man comes to