The Tragedy of Arthur: A Novel

  ’Tis not unknown.

  ARTHUR

  Come, Duke, thou art too cruel.

  GLOUCESTER

  ’Tis not unknown affects15 do wax with time.

  All’s one, as in your autumn, you are not

  The same young lovers who were wed in spring.

  In time new common cause is found, and wife

  And husband are as allies in a war

  They cannot win, yet still are they content

  To fight it side by side.

  ARTHUR

  Most nobly read.

  Duke, grant me but a moment to revolve,

  As you do teach me now, if league with France,

  Made strong by unseen, sure not loathy dame,

  Is best of fate for Britain and her king.

  GLOUCESTER

  Most gladly, lord. I’ll sit without.

  ARTHUR

  Our thanks.

  Exit Gloucester

  Cold fear now grips me closer than in war.

  Dare I examine her behind her veil?

  Whatsoe’er it shows, I must not credit true

  For royal painters earn when they omit.

  Uncovers painting

  “Bonjour, princesse.” There’s all my Frankish talk.

  Can this sustain our weary hours throughout

  A life of matrimonial content?

  “Bonjour, princesse. My kingdom wants a queen.

  What say you? Find me well enough for now?

  Then we must hence spend every day and night

  In one another’s speechless company

  Until the one of us should mercy show

  And dying leave the other in sweet peace.”

  Perchance I ought to praise her qualities.

  “Within your bluest eye I see reflect

  The fleets of France at my behest and beck.

  The sun is no more golden than your hair,

  Which calls to mind your treasury and wealth.

  How I do long to press beneath my hands

  Your soft and yielding countrymen for tax.”

  Let’s taste of her smooth embassy instead:

  He reads

  “Great Arthur’s famous and heroic acts.”

  She does write well. “Your loving friend, Matilde.”

  ’Tis all set here as circumstance demands.

  Matilde. Matilde. ’Tis as should be.16

  This then must be, ’tis right, as Gloucester says.

  I’ll call him back and set it to be done.

  O traitor voice, why silent now, thou knave?

  But call him, coward! Now. Call now.17

  Enter Constantine and Guenhera

  O, brother, what relief to see thine eye!

  Just now I want thy wit and company

  To free my spirits from these chains of state.

  CORNWALL

  So long as you would have me here I’ll stay.

  ARTHUR

  What lady waits upon thee with such care?

  GUENHERA

  A lady once you termed a warty toad,

  A spaniel, and your most unwelcome shadow.

  ARTHUR

  A warty toad? I unbelieve this lie,

  Nor credit you are Guenhera who cast

  Enchantments o’er us all in Gloucestershire.

  GUENHERA

  Enchantments? Ha! O, King, are you not shamed?

  For long years have I feared an apple’s fall,

  Which does remember me at once the pain

  Of being struck by them upon my head

  When you would throw them at me in your mirth.

  ARTHUR

  I am ashamed if ere that cockerel18

  I was did aught that lacked in courtesy.

  GUENHERA

  ’Tis possible that I did bear myself

  Without most ceaseless perfect comeliness.

  I’truth, I fear th’most perfect gentle knight

  As soon had hurled a pippin19 at my head.

  ARTHUR

  I am astound that this is truly you

  In form made real from out my mem’ry’s mist,

  And you are changed and unchanged both at once.

  The workings and the crafts of wizard time!

  You are become most perfect dame while still—

  Within you, as behind a mask you wear—

  I see today that girl, and yet more odd,

  Do feel myself become again a boy

  Now stood beside you feigning I am king.

  GUENHERA

  I’ll flee an you become again that boy

  Ere crabs and costards20 take again to wing.

  CORNWALL

  But still art thou a barnacle, my Guen:

  The king hath matters pressing for his time.

  GUENHERA

  I hear no plaint from him and sure I would

  For that boy said my ears were long as hounds’.

  ARTHUR

  Indictment without end! Where’s mercy flown?

  You’ll mark each scruple21 of my youthful crimes?

  GUENHERA

  The bill of charge22 is ’graved upon my heart.

  ARTHUR

  Then care of state must stand aside whilst I

  Prepare defense or plead for clemency.

  GUENHERA

  ’Tis bootless, still may hope eternal spring.23

  CORNWALL

  An if my sister irks you not, my king,

  Excuse me now to counsel with your stabler:

  I fear my horse has taken bots.24

  ARTHUR

  Your leave

  I freely grant to nurse your steed, on term

  You swear, good earl, to feast with me this night.

  CORNWALL

  I take it ’pon my death, your majesty.

  Exit Cornwall

  GUENHERA

  You find me altered much from what I was?

  ARTHUR

  I cannot stick in speech my brawling thoughts.

  GUENHERA

  Then you are not so changed from woodland boy

  That I unchangingly did love.

  ARTHUR

  Not changed?

  But now I wear the costume of a king.

  GUENHERA

  So did you in those best of all my days.

  ARTHUR

  ’Tis true, I clad myself as ancient kings,

  As Caesar, Solon, Hebrew David, Saul.

  Do I seem no more suited to this garb?

  GUENHERA

  No more, no less. I thought you perfect king

  In Gloucester’s oaks, when reigning from a branch

  You daily sent me to my death.

  ARTHUR

  Say no.

  GUENHERA

  But yes.

  ARTHUR

  A tyrant and a fool was I.

  I would have piping now, not drums and fife.25

  But soft, did you not say you loved that boy?

  GUENHERA

  I did.

  ARTHUR

  But love no more? What love is this

  That sang to you when I was crowned with twigs

  But chokes now when my crown’s all wrapped in gold?

  GUENHERA

  That sylvan king did not requite my love,

  Remember this, but banished me from him,

  Bid leave him with my brother, much preferred,

  As Constantine was precious to that court.

  ARTHUR

  A dreary26 king he was, that despot child.

  I would that I could reach across time’s moat

  To lay my hand upon this purblind27 boy

  And tell him love that wondrous nymph he sees.

  Nay, I’ll not ever say that he was me,

  For were it I who sat a day with you,

  And love the issue of our argument,

  ’Tis sure that I would answer you in kind28

  And offer tenderest affections, Guen.

  If, as you say, this forest boy did not,

  Then how dare
he lay claim to being me?

  And yet, if he was never me, how can

  I hope that you will offer still your heart?

  GUENHERA

  What, what? Will you mock love to me now, King?

  Make light of common hearts, kings’ privilege?

  ARTHUR

  No mockery but of my wordless self:

  No poet, Guen, no orator at all,

  I am untongued when most I want new words

  To lock your beauty in my longest thoughts.

  I spent too soon the language I did know,

  Like to an actor hoarse from preparation,

  Or a traveller of the Afric coast,

  Who lights with wonder on an unknown bank,

  But finds he’s burnt his words on duller lands.

  What can I say that was not elsewhere false?

  And more above, I’d verse upon these sights,

  But sure you are the matter’s wisest scholar,

  Thrice-schooled in science of your beauty’s paths.

  At glass you have learnt all the fields and hills:

  I cannot win you with geography

  Of your own kingdom’s sparkling coasts and leas.

  GUENHERA

  So I am Vanity in your conceit?29

  ARTHUR

  No saint there is who could resist that sin

  Were every glass so richly laid with like

  Temptation to’t. Say that you love me still.

  GUENHERA

  O! Kings speak love when love is politic!

  Was’t Gloucester or my brother Constantine

  Impressed30 your words to move sad Guenhera,

  Revive her young days’ camomilèd31 hopes?

  A king must wed where stratagem decides,

  Where blind boy’s32 arrows, shot with policy,

  Do prick the heart but slightly if at all.

  What promised they I’d furnish Britain’s king?

  Do I bear land or gold or men at arms?

  ARTHUR

  Though caution urge me hide the case, here ’tis:

  I was but now set down to study love

  And think how kings, though men, must sacrifice

  Their own desires to commonweal’s demands.

  Much wind was blown today to ope mine eyes

  That Britain’s new-made master must ally

  More closely now to—

  GUENHERA

  Cornwall?

  ARTHUR

  France, Guen, France.

  Already are we Cornwall’s sovereign lord.

  There is no policy in Guenhera

  Being Arthur’s empress, yet I stand in gyves.33

  I of a sudden am again a boy

  But granted better wisdom of my years.

  My younger sight now sharper with new wit

  I mark in you far more than Cornwall’s cliffs.

  GUENHERA

  Thy father, too, did love a Cornish girl.

  ARTHUR

  But not so gently. Sure I am not he.

  GUENHERA

  Were’t not for Uter’s special34 appetite

  My brother would not hold his watery earldom,

  And I would not appear to royal eyes.

  ARTHUR

  We entertain conjecture such as this

  And I do end the worse: unborn, unkinged.

  I’d not be here and hammering the flint35

  To kindle your extincted love for me.

  GUENHERA

  Extincted? Said I this? I do not know.

  ARTHUR

  That’s tying hope an inch above the reach.

  To taunt a king with sour-sweet painful words

  Is sure a crime that stains thy crystal name.

  GUENHERA

  How swift from love thou sayest I am stained!

  As none dare foil thee in thy every bliss,

  See thou art unaccustomed to be thwarted.

  Like other Pendragons, thou’lt seize perforce36

  What all thy words have failed to win with ease.

  ARTHUR

  Dear Guen, I say again I am not him.

  The proof is in my mild and soft reply.

  Though thou mayst roughly chain me to a stake,

  And fill the yard, and arr37 and tear at me,

  While cries for blood from every groundling38 rise,

  I will but roll upon my back and sigh.

  GUENHERA

  But, noble bear,39 when I, a lovesick girl,

  Did love that Arthur, all the world knew him

  Bound in40 with dowsabels41 and ev’ry Joan.

  No fury then, ’tis true: his smile sufficed

  To win him what he would.

  ARTHUR

  While silent Guen