ARTHUR
A TRAGEDY

ARTHUR A TRAGEDY

BY LAURENCE BINYON

BOSTON
SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1923
By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
(Incorporated)

Printed in the United States of America

THE MURRAY PRINTING COMPANY
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

BINDING BY
THE BOSTON BOOKBINDING COMPANY
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

TO
SIR JOHN AND LADY MARTIN HARVEY

With what names should I inscribe this play but with yours? Yet what right have I to dedicate to you what is already so much your own? Memory goes back to that June day, now long ago, when first I undertook to write for you a play out of Malory’s pages on a theme long pondered by you both. And many days come back to me, in London or by the sunny Channel, when time was forgotten in ardent work and interchange of ideas; in thinking out and talking over crucial situations; in rejecting and recasting; in the search for essential structure. How much the play owes to you, both in framework and in detail, none knows so well as I. Give me leave, therefore, to write these words in grateful acknowledgment of that initial trust, of much fruitful suggestion and inspiriting counsel, and of all I have learnt from you of the playwright’s patient craft.

LAURENCE BINYON.

CONTENTS

CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

A banner-bearer, priests, esquires, men-at-arms, soldiers, ladies of the Court, etc.

ARTHUR
A TRAGEDY

FIRST SCENE

Sir Bernard’s castle at Astolat. A room with a window at the back. Sir Bernard alone, seated; he is old and grey-bearded.
Lavaine enters in a hurry of excitement.

Lavaine

Father, the King’s at London gates!

Sir Bernard

Returned?

Lavaine

Victorious. He has overthrown and scattered

Those rebels in the North.

Sir Bernard

Praise God for that!

How heard you this, Lavaine?

Lavaine

From a King’s herald

That rode through Astolat. I spoke with him.

But, father, there’s new faction now, he says,

Brewing in the West. He is below with Torre.

Sir Bernard

A herald of the King! What does he here?

Lavaine

The King sends seeking for Sir Launcelot.

Three months ago he vanished, this man said;

Vanished, and not a word of why or whither.

But now the King’s returned, he’ll search the land

Into its farthest corners for his friend.... (pause)

Father, is it not strange Sir Launcelot vanished

Just ere the King had so great need of him?

Sir Bernard

Very strange.

(A pause.)

Lavaine

Father, have you ever thought

Perhaps our guest, this knight my sister found

Pierced by an arrow among the forest leaves,

Who will not tell his name, might be none other

Than Launcelot himself?

Sir Bernard

What starts your thought upon so wild a fancy?

Lavaine

It is three months ago, the herald says,

Sir Launcelot disappeared. Three months ago

This knight was wounded and brought hither. Then,

Another thing—but now I took him news

Of the King’s victory; he was greatly stirred;

But when I spoke of this new head of trouble

Reared in the West, he started up and cried,

“I must be gone: the King has need of me!”

Sir Bernard

Sir Launcelot? It can hardly be, Lavaine.

But he has borne him like a true, brave knight,

And though he has kept his name unknown to us

I’ll wager it is noble——

Lavaine

And a name

Not less renowned than noble, I am sure.

Father, King Arthur needs good men-at-arms,

Needs every sword that’s loyal. If our guest

Goes to the King now, let me ride with him

To London; let me serve in the King’s wars.

Sir Bernard

Your sword must win a wide renown, my son,

Ere he has need of you.

Lavaine

I’ll win renown;

I’ll hew it from the world, as Launcelot did.

Sir Bernard

Patience, my son! If any serves the King

From this house, it shall be my eldest son

First, and your brother bides with me——

Lavaine

Oh, Torre!

A stay-at-home born! He’ll not leave his dogs.

He’s for the country, and abhors the Court.

Torre bursts in.

Torre

I have found him. Blind that I must have been

Not to have guessed before!

Lavaine

Found whom, Torre?

Torre (at the window).

Look!

Look! in the garden, walking with Elaine.

God wither him!

Sir Bernard

Our guest? What mean you, boy?

Torre

Evermore by our sister’s side, and she

Takes his corruption to her innocence

Like syllables of Scripture. Would to heaven——

Sir Bernard

Cease raving, Torre. Our guest——

Torre

Who hides his name——

What name? Why hidden? I have found him out.

Lavaine

Who is it?

Torre

Launcelot!

Lavaine

Did I not say it, father?

Torre

You knew?

Lavaine

The thought leapt to my mind but now.

Sir Bernard

Sir Launcelot?

Torre

Launcelot, the Queen’s paramour.

Sir Bernard

Shame, Torre! Shame! The King’s friend.

Lavaine

The best knight

That wears a sword upon this earth.

Torre

A traitor!

Lavaine

He serves the Queen, and the Queen chooses him

To be her peerless champion in the lists;

Therefore the vile think evil.

Torre

You are a boy;

Talk like a boy, think like a boy.

Sir Bernard

You know

This is Sir Launcelot? He has told it to you?

Many a knight will hide his name for cause

Of some adventure, or some secret vow.

Torre

Is it not three months since this guest of ours

Was found in the forest with an arrow through him——

Found by Elaine? Would God that hunter’s arrow

Had split his heart in two!

Sir Bernard

This rage is madness.

Torre

It’s he. The herald told me of a scar

Upon Sir Launcelot’s forehead. You have seen it.

Look at Elaine, pacing beside him. Watch

How her cheek changes, how she listens——

Lavaine

Well,

He is not so graceless not to bid good-bye

To her that’s been his hostess and his nurse.

What harm in that?

Torre

What harm? To lose her heart

And make a pastime for the filcher of it!

Queen, country maid—all’s practice to his lures.

Sir Bernard

You anger me: so rank in your suspicions.

You read him backward, as the witches do

The holy writ. Whether Launcelot or no,

This is a true man.

Torre

Father, he is false.

Lavaine

You slander one that’s better than yourself.

Torre

He goes. I’ll to the herald now, and I’ll

Proclaim him found.

Lavaine

And when he goes, I go.

I’ll follow such a man to the world’s end.

Torre

Lavaine, you shall not.

Lavaine

And I say, I will.

Torre

He is the lover of Queen Guenevere.

Launcelot enters quietly.

Torre

None in the Court but knows it, save the King.

Sir Bernard

Now shame upon you, Torre. Our guest is here.

Torre

Let me speak, father.

Sir Bernard

Will you shame our house

And me too? Peace.

Torre

I must speak out my heart,

Guest or no guest. Sir, will it please you to ask

This guest of ours why he has hid a name

Men know, whether for good or ill——

Sir Bernard

This house

Shall not forget its ancient courtesies

While I am master. These are sorry manners:

I never taught you such. In his own time

Our noble guest shall tell us what he will

Or, if he choose, be nameless. Now, no more.

Lavaine (eagerly)

Is it Sir Launcelot?

Launcelot

I am Launcelot. Sir,

Pardon me, if for causes of my own

I let my name sleep in the dark awhile.

Sir Bernard

We should have guessed it. Though we dwell retired

In Astolat, doubt not those deeds of fame

Which you have done for Britain and our King

And made a glory in the land—doubt not

We have them all by heart.

Lavaine

Drank them like wine.

Sir Bernard

Our children’s children will be telling them

By the fire. The famed Sir Launcelot! and this,

This is our guest—Sir Launcelot! Good news.

Torre

Good news, that he has thieved your daughter’s heart!

But here he stays no moment more. I’ll fetch

King Arthur’s herald and proclaim him.

Launcelot

Spare

Your pains, sir. I have spoken with that herald

And ride with him at once; I had come now

For my farewell.

Torre

By heaven, and not too soon.

Sir Bernard

Torre!

Launcelot

Let him speak.

Sir Bernard

Nay, Sir——

Torre

Have you not eyes?

This paragon of Courts, smiled on of Queens,

Deigns for his rustic leisure to make sport

Of our simplicity. Elaine has given

Her whole heart to him, and he’ll toss her now

To oblivion.

Sir Bernard

Torre, you have dishonoured me——

Lavaine

Shame, Torre!

Sir Bernard

Dishonoured me and all my house.

Torre

I am rough: but truth is rough; and the bur sticks.

Launcelot

Sir Bernard,

I owe your daughter all the breath I breathe.

She found me at the gasp of death; she brought me

Of her sweet pity hither, healed my wound,

And more; for when black clouds were on my mind

She let the morning shine full into it;

I felt her like the sky, the morning dew.

If—if there be some fondness, some young spring

Of fondness in her heart, Time soon amends

Such wounds. She is a child. If this be gone

More deep than tenderness and pity’s tears

I have means to cure it. Let me speak with her.

Torre

He shall not, father.

Sir Bernard

This to me! Now leave us,

Or ask a pardon that is ill deserved.

Elaine enters

Sir Bernard

Sir Launcelot——

(Elaine, hearing the name, gives a little cry of wonder.)

Elaine! Speak with her, then.

You have my trust. My sons, come.

Torre

You are blind.

We shall taste bitterness ere this be done.

[Sir Bernard goes out with his sons.

Elaine

Sir Launcelot! Sir Launcelot of the Lake?

Was it the famed Sir Launcelot that I found

Like a dead man so pale on the dead leaves?

Sir Launcelot! I have won Sir Launcelot back

To life, to glory! Now I have a name

To call you by; the name I used to hear

When it seemed distant as the dazzling sun;

Why did you hide your name?

(Launcelot is silent.)

Something is changed.

What is it? Tell me.

Launcelot