XXXIII.

“ He of the Lake, whose empty seat was placed,
And in the hall his banner waving wide,
A golden hound with chequer'd collar graced,
And the broad field with seeming verdure dyed?
To whom the young Ygwerna swift replied,
With arched brows and finger pointing sly,

“Oh who shall dare to praise that chief of pride, Who, when the jealous Gwendolen is nigh,

Whose proffer'd love he meets with so cold courtesy ?

"By forged tales to shroud thy secret care! Who more than thou the myrtle branch has twined, And ring'd with flowery wreath his auburn air? Ah wooing vainly spent! some absent fair Has o'er the warrior hung her silken chain; Witness the purple scarf he loves to wear, Witness his wanderings o'er the nightly plain, Witness Ygwerna's love and Lancelot's disdain! "

XXXV.

Ganora sigh'd; but all unmark'd the sigh
As Gwendolen pursued her eager word!
"Oh lady mine, long were the history

To reckon up the praise of that young lord,
In Logris and in distant Gaul ador'd,

And sprung from elder kings of Brutus' race ;

But changeful fate, and war with ruthless sword Could ancient Tribles' goodly towers deface,

And poppies wave the head in the tall banner's place.

XXXVI.

"When bloody Claudas sack'd the Armoric shore,
The sire of Lancelot his sceptre held,
For wealth renown'd, for virtuous wisdom more,
And the fair peace of honourable eld.
But the base rabble from his rule repell❜d,
And ancient Ban, no longer prompt to bear
(As when at Carohaise, the foe he quell'd)
The conquering falchion and the pennon'd spear,
Fled from his dangerous throne to wood and desart drear.

XXXVII.

"There, wretched sire, by daily wrath pursued,
Himself, his infant heir, and beauteous dame,
A shelter seeking in the solitude,

To a wild cave with painful travel came,
Where toil and grief opprest his hoary frame:
A little space with arms to Heaven spread,
A little space, on cities wrapt in flame;

And ravaged fields, he gazed, but nothing said,
Then in his Helen's arms sank down his dying head.

cr

XXXVIII.

She, chafing his cold brows, and with her tears
Moistening in vain the breast was ever true,

Nor space, nor leisure found for other fears;

But when her much-loved lord deceased she knew,
All wildly frantic thro' the desart flew,
Reckless of him who, 'mid the bushes laid,
Her sleeping babe, a faëry's pity drew;

Who haply wandering through the twilight glade.
Stoop'dfrom her phantom steed, and home the prize convey'd.

XXXIX.

"Beneath the hollow waters is her home,
Upbuilt with arched waves of crystal cold,
Where never wight of mortal seed should come.
Yet did she there the beauteous infant hold,
And train'd in knightly lore and pastimes bold;
But luckless Helen, dame disconsolate,

When late her loss returning reason told,

Sought the sad shelter of a convent grate,

And wept with live-long grief her boy's untimely fate.

XL.

Him, when his vigorous youth was ripe for war, And downy cheek was cloth'd in darker shade, On airy wheels and dragon-yoked car,

To Arthur's court his elfin nurse convey'd,

In polish'd arms of maiden white array'd, And silver shield as princely youth became ;

Who since untam'd, unrivall'd, undismay'd In tourney strife and war's illustrious game, Has borne from every knight the foremost meed of fame.”

XLI.

"All otherwise I deem," Ganora cried,

"Nor him account the best and bravest knight Who, wrapt in sordid gain or warrior pride, Is dead to ladies' pain and love's delight." "Ah who," said Gwendolen, "shall read aright The close-kept secret of a hero's love!

Yet some have said, in magic beauty bright, His elfin dame has power his mind to move,

And urge his pensive steps along the twilight grove."

XLII.

A livid blush the queen's pale face o'erspread,
"Yet, yet aread, where is that faëry's wan?'
"Ah who shall tell her haunt," the maiden said,
"Who in the desart water dwells alone,

Or under hollow hill or cavern'd stone?
Yet beauteous Derwent claims her chiefest grace."
Ganora heard, but answer made she none,
And with her kerchief shrouding close her face,

Broke from th' unfinish'd tale and sadly left the place.

Enter two Goblins bearing a casket.

Gwendolen. What forms are these?

Goblin.

Spirits of nether earth

Are we, and servants to the mighty Merlin,

From whom we bear these treasures to his bride.

Or ere the raven twice hath flapt her wing

He will himself be here.

Gwendolen.

Good angels guard me!

Enter two Sylphs and two Sea Nymphs.

SONG.

Nymphs of air and ancient sea,
Bridal gifts we bring to thee!
Lo these plumes of rich device,
Pluck'd from birds of paradise!