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twg_000012926600 | how he was beguiled, he was passing wroth out of measure. And, a short tale for to make, he went and laid a mighty siege about the Tower of London, and made many great assaults thereat, and threw many great engines unto them, and shot great guns. But all might not prevail Sir Mordred, because Queen Guenever, for fair speech | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926601 | nor for foul, would never trust to come in his hands again. Then came the Bishop of Canterbury, the which was a noble clerk and an holy man, and thus he said to Sir Mordred: "Sir, what will ye do? Will ye first displease God, and then shame yourself and all knighthood? Leave this matter, or else I shall curse | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926602 | you with book and bell and candle." "Do thou thy worst," said Sir Mordred; "wit thou well I shall defy thee." "Sir," said the Bishop, "and wit ye well I shall not fear me to do that I ought to do. Also, when ye noise that my lord Arthur is slain, that is not so, and therefore ye will make | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926603 | a foul work in this land." "Peace, thou false priest," said Sir Mordred, "for, if thou chafe me any more, I shall make strike off thy head." So the Bishop departed, and did the curse in the haughtiest wise that might be done. Then Sir Mordred sought the Bishop of Canterbury for to slay him, and he fled, and, taking | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926604 | part of his goods with him, went nigh unto Glastonbury, and there lived in poverty and in holy prayers as priest-hermit in a chapel, for well he understood that mischievous war was at hand. Then came word to Sir Mordred that King Arthur had raised the siege from Sir Launcelot, and was coming homeward with a great host, to be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926605 | avenged upon Sir Mordred. Wherefore Sir Mordred made write writs to all the barony of this land, and much people drew to him, for then was the common voice among them, that with Arthur was none other life but war and strife, and with Sir Mordred was great joy and bliss. Thus was Sir Arthur depraved and evil said of, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926606 | and many there were that King Arthur had made up of naught, and had given lands to, who might not then say of him a good word. Lo all ye Englishmen, see ye not what a mischief here was, for Arthur was the most king and knight of the world, and most loved the fellowship of noble knights, and by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926607 | him they were all upholden. Now might not these Englishmen hold us content with him. Lo, thus was the old custom and usage of this land, and men say, that we of this land have not yet lost nor forgotten that custom and usage. Alas, this is a great fault of all Englishmen, for there may no thing please us. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926608 | And so fared the people at that time; they were better pleased with Sir Mordred than they were with King Arthur, and much people drew unto Sir Mordred, and said they would abide with him for better and for worse. So Sir Mordred drew with a great host to Dover, for there he heard say that Sir Arthur would arrive, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926609 | and so he thought to beat his own uncle from his lands. And the most part of all England held with Sir Mordred, the people were so new-fangle. As Sir Mordred was at Dover with his host, there came King Arthur with a great navy of ships, galleys, and carracks. And there was Sir Mordred ready awaiting upon his landage, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926610 | to keep his own uncle from landing in the country that he was king over. Then there was launching of great boats and small, full of noble men of arms, and there was much slaughter of gentle knights, and many a bold baron was laid full low on both sides. But King Arthur was so courageous that there might no | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926611 | manner of knights prevent him from landing, and his knights fiercely followed him. So they landed in spite of Sir Mordred and all his power, and they put him aback, so that he fled and all his people. When this battle was done, King Arthur let bury his dead, and then was the noble knight Sir Gawaine found in a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926612 | great boat lying more than half dead. When Sir Arthur wist that Sir Gawaine was laid so low, he went unto him and made sorrow out of measure, for this sister's son was the man in the world that he most loved. Sir Gawaine felt that he must die, for he was smitten upon the old wound that Sir Launcelot | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926613 | had given him afore the city of Benwick. He now knew that he was the cause of this unhappy war, for had Sir Launcelot remained with the King, it would never have been, and now King Arthur would sore miss his brave knights of the Round Table. Then he prayed his uncle that he might have paper, pen, and ink, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926614 | and when they were brought, he with his own hand wrote thus, as the French aketh mention: "Unto Sir Launcelot, flower of all noble knights that ever I heard of, or saw by my days, I, Sir Gawaine, King Lot's son of Orkney, sister's son unto the noble King Arthur, send thee greeting, and let thee have knowledge, that this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926615 | tenth day of May, through the same wound that thou gavest me I am come to my death. And I will that all the world wit that I, Sir Gawaine, knight of the Table Round, sought my death; it came not through thy deserving, but it was mine own seeking. Wherefore I beseech thee, Sir Launcelot, to return again unto | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926616 | this realm, and see my tomb, and pray some prayer, more or less, for my soul. For all the love that ever was betwixt us, make no tarrying, but come over the sea in all haste, that thou mayest with thy noble knights rescue that noble king that made thee knight, that is my lord Arthur, for he is full | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926617 | straitly bestead with a false traitor, my half-brother, Sir Mordred. We all landed upon him and his host at Dover, and there put him to flight, and there it misfortuned me to be stricken in the same wound the which I had of thy hand, Sir Launcelot. Of a nobler man might I not be slain. This letter was written | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926618 | but two hours and an half afore my death, with mine own hand, and so subscribed with part of my heart's blood." Then Sir Gawaine wept, and King Arthur wept, and then they swooned both. When they awaked both, the King made Sir Gawaine to receive the sacrament, and then Sir Gawaine prayed the King to send for Sir Launcelot, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926619 | and to cherish him above all other knights. And so at the hour of noon, Sir Gawaine yielded up the spirit, and the King let inter him in a chapel within Dover Castle. Then was it told King Arthur that Sir Mordred had pitched a new field upon Barham Down. Upon the morn the King rode thither to him, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926620 | there was a great battle betwixt them, and much people were slain on both parties. But at the last Sir Arthur's party stood best, and Sir Mordred and his party fled to Canterbury. Upon this much people drew unto King Arthur, and he went with his host down by the seaside, westward towards Salisbury, and there was a day assigned | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926621 | between him and Sir Mordred when they should meet in battle upon a down beside Salisbury, not far from the sea. In the night before the battle King Arthur dreamed a wonderful dream, and it seemed to him verily that there came Sir Gawaine unto him, and said; "God giveth me leave to come hither for to warn you that, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926622 | if ye fight to-morn with Sir Mordred, as ye both have assigned, doubt ye not ye must be slain, and the most part of your people on both parties. For the great grace and goodness that Almighty Jesu hath unto you, and for pity of you and many other good men that there shall be slain, God hath sent me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926623 | to you, of His special grace, to give you warning, that in no wise ye do battle to-morn, but that ye take a treaty for a month; and proffer ye largely, so as to-morn to be put in delay, for within a month shall come Sir Launcelot, with all his noble knights, and rescue you honourably, and slay Sir Mordred | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926624 | and all that ever will hold with him." Then Sir Gawaine vanished, and anon the King commanded Sir Lucan and his brother, Sir Bedivere, with two bishops with them, and charged them to take a treaty for a month with Sir Mordred in any wise they might. So then they departed, and came to Sir Mordred, where he had a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926625 | grim host of an hundred thousand men. There they entreated Sir Mordred long time, and at the last he was agreed to have Cornwall and Kent by King Arthur's days, and after the days of King Arthur all England. OF ARTHUR'S LAST GREAT BATTLE IN THE WEST Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere were agreed with Sir Mordred that King Arthur | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926626 | and he should meet betwixt both their hosts, for to conclude the treaty they had made, and every each of them should bring fourteen persons. And they came with this word unto King Arthur. Then said he, "I am glad that this is done." So Arthur made ready to go into the field, and when he would depart, he warned | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926627 | all his hosts that if they saw any sword drawn, they should come on fiercely, and slay that traitor Sir Mordred, for he in no wise trusted him. In like manner Sir Mordred warned his host: "If ye see any sword drawn, look that ye come on fiercely, and so slay all that ever before you stand, for in no | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926628 | wise will I trust for this treaty. I know well mine uncle will be avenged upon me." So they met as their appointment was, and they were agreed and accorded thoroughly; and wine was fetched, and they drank. Right so came an adder out of a little heath bush, and it stung a knight on the foot. When the knight | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926629 | felt himself stung, he looked down and saw the adder; then he drew his sword to slay the adder, and thought of none other harm. But when the hosts on both parties saw the sword drawn, then they blew trumpets, and horns, and shouted grimly. And so both hosts dressed them together. King Arthur took his horse, and said, "Alas | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926630 | this unhappy day," and so rode to his party; and Sir Mordred did likewise. And never was there seen a dolefuller battle in any Christian land, for there was but rushing and riding, foining, and striking, and many a grim word was there spoken either to other, and there was given many a deadly stroke. Thus they fought all the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926631 | long day, and never stinted, till the noble knights were laid to the cold ground. And ever they fought still, till it was near night, and by that time were there an hundred thousand laid dead upon the down. Then the King looked about him, and was ware, that of all his host and of all his good knights were | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926632 | left no more alive but two knights, that was Sir Lucan the butler, and his brother Sir Bedivere, and even they were full sore wounded. "Jesu, mercy," said the King, "where are all my noble knights become? Alas that ever I should see this doleful day. Now I am come to mine end. But would to God that I wist | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926633 | where is that traitor Sir Mordred, that hath caused all this mischief." Then was King Arthur ware where Sir Mordred leaned upon his sword among a great heap of dead men. "Now give me my spear," said Arthur unto Sir Lucan, "for yonder I have espied the traitor that all this woe hath wrought." "Sir, let him be," said Sir | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926634 | Lucan. "If ye pass this evil day, ye shall be right well revenged upon him. My lord remember ye of your night's dream, and what the spirit of Sir Gawaine told you last night. God of His great goodness hath preserved you hitherto. Therefore, for God's sake, my lord, leave off with this. For blessed be God, ye have won | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926635 | the field, for here we be three alive, and with Sir Mordred is none. If ye leave off now, this wicked day of destiny is past." "Tide me death, betide me life," saith the King, "now I see him yonder alone, he shall never escape mine hands, for at a better avail shall I never have him." Then he gat | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926636 | his spear in both his hands, and ran towards Sir Mordred, crying, "Traitor, now is thy death day come." When Sir Mordred heard Sir Arthur, he ran unto him with his sword drawn in his hand, and then King Arthur smote him under the shield with a foin of his spear throughout the body. When Sir Mordred felt that he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926637 | had his death's wound, he thrust himself, with the might that he had, up to the bur of King Arthur's spear. And right so he smote his uncle Arthur with his sword holden in both his hands, on the side of the head so that the sword pierced the helmet and the brain-pan, and therewithal Sir Mordred fell stark dead | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926638 | to the earth. And the noble Arthur fell in a swoon to the earth, and there he swooned ofttimes. And Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere ofttimes heaved him up, and so weakly they led him betwixt them both to a little chapel not far from the seaside. OF THE PASSING OF KING ARTHUR When the King was laid in the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926639 | chapel he thought himself well eased. Then heard they people cry in the field, and Sir Lucan went out to wit what the noise betokened. As he went he saw and heard in the moonlight how the plunderers and robbers were come into the battlefield to pillage and rob many a full noble knight of rings and jewels; and who | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926640 | that were not dead all out, there they slew them for their harness and their riches. When Sir Lucan understood this work, he came to the King as soon as he might, and told him all what he had heard and seen. "Therefore by my advice," said Sir Lucan, "it is best that we bring you to some town." "I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926641 | would it were so," said the King, "but I may not stand, my head works so. Ah, Sir Launcelot, this day have I sore missed thee. Alas, that ever I was against thee, for now have I my death, whereof Sir Gawaine me warned in my dream." Then Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere took up the King, and in the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926642 | lifting the King swooned, and Sir Lucan, that was grievously wounded in many places, also fell in a swoon with the lift, and therewith the noble knight died. When King Arthur came to himself again, he beheld Sir Lucan dead and Sir Bedivere weeping for his brother, and he said: "This is unto me a full heavy sight to see | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926643 | this noble duke so die for my sake, for he would have holpen me that had more need of help than I. Yet, Sir Bedivere, weeping and mourning will not avail me; for wit thou well, if I might live myself, the death of Sir Lucan would grieve me evermore. But my time hieth fast. Therefore, Sir Bedivere, take thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926644 | Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonder waterside, and when thou comest there, I charge thee throw my sword in that water, and come again, and tell me what thou there seest." "My lord," said Bedivere, "your commandment shall be done, and I will lightly bring you word again." So Sir Bedivere departed, and by the way | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926645 | he beheld that noble sword, whose pommel and haft were all of precious stones, and then he said to himself, "If I throw this rich sword in the water, thereof shall never come good, but harm and loss." Then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur under a tree, and as soon as he might he came again unto the King, and said | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926646 | he had been at the water, and had thrown the sword into the water. "What sawest thou there?" said the King. "Sir," he said, "I saw nothing but waves and winds." "That is untruly said of thee," said the King; "therefore go thou lightly again, and do my command as thou art to me lief and dear; spare not, but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926647 | throw it." Then Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword in his hand; and then him thought it sin and shame to throw away that noble sword. And so again he hid the sword, and returned, and told the King that he had been at the water, and done his commandment. "What sawest thou there?" said the King. "Sir," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926648 | he said, "I saw nothing but the waters lap and the waves toss." "Ah, traitor, untrue," said King Arthur, "now hast thou betrayed me twice. Who would have thought that thou that hast been to me so lief and dear, and that art named a noble knight, wouldest betray me for the riches of the sword. But now go again | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926649 | lightly, for thy long tarrying putteth me in great jeopardy of my life, for I have taken cold. And unless thou do now as I bid thee, if ever I may see thee, I shall slay thee with mine own hands, for thou wouldest for my rich sword see me dead." Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the sword, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926650 | and lightly took it up, and went to the waterside. There he bound the girdle about the hilts, and then he threw the sword as far into the water as he might. And there came an arm and an hand above the water, and met it, and caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished, and then vanished away | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926651 | the hand with the sword in the water. So Sir Bedivere came again to the King, and told him what he saw. "Alas," said the King, "help me thence, for I fear me I have tarried over long." Then Sir Bedivere took the King upon his back, and so went with him to that waterside. And when they were at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926652 | the waterside, even fast by the bank hove a little barge, with many fair ladies in it, and among them all was a queen, and all they had black hoods, and all they wept and shrieked when they saw King Arthur. [Illustration: The Passing of Arthur] "Now put me into the barge," said the King; and so he did softly. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926653 | And there received him three queens with great mourning, and so they set him down, and in one of their laps King Arthur laid his head, and then that queen said, "Ah, dear brother, why have ye tarried so long from me? Alas, this wound on your head hath caught over much cold." And so then they rowed from the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926654 | land, and Sir Bedivere beheld all these ladies go from him. Then he cried, "Ah, my lord Arthur, what shall become of me now ye go from me, and leave me here alone among mine enemies!" "Comfort thyself," said the King, "and do as well as thou mayest, for in me is no trust for to trust in. For I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926655 | will into the vale of Avilion, to heal me of my grievous wound. And if thou hear never more of me, pray for my soul." Ever the queens and the ladies wept and shrieked, that it was pity to hear. And as soon as Sir Bedivere had lost the sight of the barge he wept and wailed, and so took | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926656 | the forest, and he went all that night; and in the morning he was ware betwixt two ancient cliffs of a chapel and an hermitage, and he was glad. When he came into the chapel he saw a hermit praying by a tomb new graven. The hermit was the Bishop of Canterbury that Sir Mordred had banished, and Sir Bedivere | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926657 | asked him what man was there interred. "Fair son," said the hermit, "I wot not verily, but this night, at midnight, here came a number of ladies, and brought hither a dead corpse, and prayed me to bury him; and here they offered an hundred tapers, and gave me an hundred besants." Then Sir Bedivere knew that King Arthur lay | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926658 | buried in that chapel, and he prayed the hermit that he might abide with him still there. So there abode Sir Bedivere with the hermit, that was tofore Bishop of Canterbury, and there Sir Bedivere put on poor clothes, and served the hermit full lowly in fasting and in prayers. Thus of Arthur I find never more written in books | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926659 | that be authorised, nor more of the certainty of his death heard I tell, but that he was thus led away in a ship wherein were three queens. The hermit that some time was Bishop of Canterbury bare witness that ladies brought a knight to his burial in the chapel, but the hermit knew not in certain that it was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926660 | verily the body of King Arthur;--for this tale Sir Bedivere, knight of the Round Table, made to be written. Some men still say in many parts of England that King Arthur is not dead, but tarried by the will of our Lord Jesu in another place. And men say that he shall come again, and shall win the holy cross. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926661 | I will not say it shall be so, but rather I will say, here in this world he changed his life. But many men say that there is written upon his tomb these words: "_Hic jacet Arthurus Rex quondam Rex que futurus_": "_Here lies Arthur, King that was and King that shall be._" OF THE END OF THIS BOOK When | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926662 | Queen Guenever understood that King Arthur was slain, and all the noble knights, Sir Mordred and all the remnant, then she stole away, and five ladies with her, and so she went to Almesbury, and there she let make herself a nun, and lived in fasting, prayers, and alms-deeds, that all manner of people marvelled how virtuously she was changed. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926663 | And there she was abbess and ruler, as reason would. When Sir Launcelot of the Lake heard in his country that Sir Mordred was crowned king, and made war against his uncle, then he made all haste with ships and galleys to go unto England. So he passed over the sea till he came to Dover. There the people told | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926664 | him how that King Arthur was slain, and Sir Mordred, and an hundred thousand died on a day, and how Sir Mordred gave King Arthur there the first battle at his landing, and how there was good Sir Gawaine slain. And then certain people of the town brought him unto the castle of Dover, and showed him the tomb. And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926665 | he made a dole for Sir Gawaine, and all the priests and clerks that might be gotten in the country were there and sang mass of requiem. Two nights Sir Launcelot lay on Sir Gawaine's tomb in prayers and in weeping, and then on the third day he called his kings, dukes, earls, barons, and knights, and said thus: "My | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926666 | fair lords, I thank you all of your coming into this country with me; but we come too late, and that shall repent me while I live, but against death may no man rebel. Since it is so, I will myself ride and seek my lady Queen Guenever, for, as I hear say, she hath great pain and much disease. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926667 | Therefore ye all abide me here fifteen days, and then, if I come not again, take your ships and your fellowship, and depart into your country." So Sir Launcelot rode forth alone on his journey into the west country. There he sought seven or eight days, and at the last came to the nunnery where was Queen Guenever. Once only | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926668 | he had speech with her, and then took his horse and rode away to forsake the world, as she had done. He rode all that day and all that night in a forest, and at the last he was ware of an hermitage and a chapel betwixt two cliffs. Thither he rode, and there found Sir Bedivere with the Bishop | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926669 | of Canterbury, for he was come to their hermitage. And then he besought the Bishop that he might remain there as a brother. The Bishop would gladly have it so, and there he put hermit's clothes upon Sir Launcelot, and there Sir Launcelot served God day and night with prayers and fasting. The great host abode in Dover fifteen days, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926670 | as Sir Launcelot had bidden them. Then, since Sir Launcelot did not return, Sir Bors of Ganis made them take ship and return home again to Benwick. But Sir Bors himself and others of Sir Launcelot's kin took on them to ride all England across and endlong, to seek Sir Launcelot. So Sir Bors by fortune rode so long till | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926671 | he came to the same chapel where Sir Launcelot and Sir Bedivere were, and he prayed the Bishop that he also might remain and be of their fellowship. So there was an habit put upon him, and there he lived in prayers and fasting. And within half a year there were come seven other knights, and when they saw Sir | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926672 | Launcelot, they had no list to depart, but took such an habit as he had. Thus they remained in true devotion six years, and Sir Launcelot took the habit of priesthood. And there were none of those other knights but read in books, and holp in the worship and did bodily all manner of service. And so their horses went | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926673 | where they would, for they took no regard of worldly riches. Thus upon a night there came a vision to Sir Launcelot, and charged him to haste unto Almesbury, for Queen Guenever was dead, and he should fetch the corpse and bury her by her husband, the noble King Arthur. Then Sir Launcelot rose up ere day, took seven fellows | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926674 | with him, and on foot they went from Glastonbury to Almesbury, the which is little more than thirty miles. They came thither within two days, for they were weak and feeble to go, and found that Queen Guenever had died but half an hour before. The ladies said she had told them all, ere she passed, that Sir Launcelot had | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926675 | been a priest near a twelvemonth, and that he came thither as fast as he might, to take her corpse to Glastonbury for burial. So Sir Launcelot and his seven fellows went back on foot beside the corpse of Queen Guenever from Almesbury unto Glastonbury, and they buried her with solemn devotion in the chapel at the hermitage. When she | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926676 | was put in the earth Sir Launcelot swooned, for he remembered the noblesse and kindness that was both with the King and with herself, and how by his fault and his pride they were both laid full low. Then Sir Launcelot sickened more and more, and within six weeks afterwards Sir Bors and his fellows found him dead in his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926677 | bed. The Bishop did his mass of requiem, and he and all the nine knights went with the corpse till they came to Joyous Gard, his own castle, and there they buried him in the choir of the chapel, as he had wished, with great devotion. Thereafter the knights went all with the Bishop of Canterbury back to his hermitage. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926678 | Then Sir Constantine of Cornwall was chosen King of England, a full noble knight that honourably ruled this realm. And this King Constantine sent for the Bishop of Canterbury, for he heard say where he was, and so was he restored unto his bishopric, and left that hermitage. Sir Bedivere was there ever still hermit to his life's end, but | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926679 | the French aketh mention that Sir Bors and three of the knights that were with him at the hermitage went into the Holy Land, and there did many battles upon the miscreant Turks, and there they died upon a Good Friday, for God's sake. Here is the end of the book of King Arthur and his noble knights of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926680 | Round Table, that when they were whole together were ever an hundred and forty. And here is the end of the Death of Arthur. I pray you all gentlemen and gentlewomen that read this book of Arthur and his knights from the beginning to the ending, pray for me while I am alive that God send me good deliverance, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926681 | when I am dead, I pray you all pray for my soul; for this book was ended the ninth year of the reign of King Edward the Fourth by Sir Thomas Maleore, knight, as Jesu help him for his great might, as he is the servant of Jesu both day and night. _Thus endeth thys noble and joyous book entytled | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926682 | Le Morte Darthur. Notwithstanding, it treateth of the byrth, lyf and actes of the sayd Kynge Arthur, of his noble knyghtes of the Round Table, theyr mervayllous enquestes and adventures, the achyevying of the Holy Grail, and in the end the dolourous deth and departyng out of thys world of them al. Whiche book was reduced in to englysshe by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926683 | Syr Thomas Malory knyght as afore is sayd, and by me enprynted and fynyshed in the abbey Westminster the last day of July, the yere of our Lord MCCCCLXXXV._ _Caxton me fieri fecit._ | 33 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926684 | Produced by Pierre Lacaze, Laurent Vogel, Hugo Voisard and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by the Bibliothque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) COMTESSE DE NOAILLES LES VIVANTS ET LES MORTS L'me des potes lyriques fait rellement ce qu'ils se vantent de faire. Platon. PARIS DU MME AUTEUR POESIES LE COEUR | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926685 | INNOMBRABLE (Ouvrage couronn par l'Acadmie franaise.) vol. L'OMBRE DES JOURS vol. LES EBLOUISSEMENTS Vol. ROMANS LA NOUVELLE ESPERANCE vol. LE VISAGE EMERVEILLE vol. LA DOMINATION vol. COMTESSE DE NOAILLES LES VIVANTS ET LES MORTS L'me des potes lyriques fait rellement ce qu'ils se vantent de faire. PLATON. PARIS ARTHME FAYARD & Cie, EDITEURS -, rue du Saint-Gothard, - _A MA | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926686 | MRE_ I LES PASSIONS EUPHORION.--Je ne veux pas plus longtemps tenir terre; laissez mes mains, laissez mes boucles, laissez donc mes vtements, ils sont moi... HELNE ET FAUST.--O ptulance! dlire! On dirait un cor qui sonne sur la valle et sur le bois. A peine un jour serein donn tu tends t'lancer, du point o le vertige t'a pris, dans | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926687 | un espace plein de douleurs... Goethe. TU VIS, JE BOIS L'AZUR... Tu vis, je bois l'azur qu'panche ton visage, Ton rire me nourrit comme d'un bl plus fin, Je ne sais pas le jour, o, moins sr et moins sage, Tu me feras mourir de faim. Solitaire, nomade et toujours tonne, Je n'ai pas d'avenir et je n'ai pas de | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926688 | toit, J'ai peur de la maison, de l'heure et de l'anne O je devrai souffrir de toi. Mme quand je te vois dans l'air qui m'environne, Quand tu sembles meilleur que mon coeur ne rva, Quelque chose de toi sans cesse m'abandonne, Car rien qu'en vivant tu t'en vas. Tu t'en vas, et je suis comme ces chiens farouches Qui, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926689 | le front sur le sable o luit un soleil blanc, Cherchent retenir dans leur errante bouche L'ombre d'un papillon volant. Tu t'en vas, cher navire, et la mer qui te berce Te vante de lointains et plus brlants transports. Pourtant, la cargaison du monde se dverse Dans mon vaste et tranquille port. Ne bouge plus, ton souffle impatient, tes gestes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926690 | Ressemblent la source cartant les roseaux. Tout est aride et nu hors de mon me, reste Dans l'ouragan de mon repos! Quel voyage vaudrait ce que mes yeux t'apprennent, Quand mes regards joyeux font jaillir dans les tiens Les soirs de Galata, les forts des Ardennes, Les lotus des fleuves indiens? Hlas! quand ton lan, quand ton dpart m'oppresse, Quand | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926691 | je ne peux t'avoir dans l'espace o tu cours, Je songe la terrible et funbre paresse Qui viendra t'engourdir un jour. Toi si gai, si content, si rapide et si brave, Qui rgnes sur l'espoir ainsi qu'un conqurant, Tu rejoindras aussi ce grand peuple d'esclaves Qui gt, muet et tolrant. Je le vois comme un point dlicat et solide Par | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926692 | del les instants, les horizons, les eaux, Isol, fascinant comme les Pyramides, Ton troit et fixe tombeau; Et je regarde avec une affreuse tristesse, Au bout d'un avenir que je ne verrai pas, Ce mur qui te rsiste et ce lieu o tu cesses, Ce lit o s'arrtent tes pas! Tu seras mort, ainsi que David, qu'Alexandre, Mort comme le | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926693 | Thbain lanant ses javelots, Comme ce danseur grec dont j'ai pes la cendre Dans un muse, au bord des flots. --J'ai vu sous le soleil d'un antique rivage Qui subit la chaleur comme un cleste affront, Des squelettes lgers au fond des sarcophages, Et j'ai touch leurs faibles fronts. Et je savais que moi, qui contemplais ces restes, J'tais dj | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926694 | ce mort, mais encor palpitant, Car de ces ossements mon corps tendre et preste Il faut le cours d'un peu de temps... Je l'accepte pour moi ce sort si noir, si rude, Je veux tre ces yeux que l'infini creusait; Mais, palmier de ma joie et de ma solitude, Vous avec qui je me taisais, Vous qui j'ai donn, sans | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926695 | mme vous le dire, Comme un prince remet son pe au vainqueur, La grce de rgner sur le mystique empire O, comme un Nil, s'pand mon coeur, Vous en qui, flot mouvant, j'ai bris tout ensemble, Mes rves, mes dfauts, ma peine et ma gat, Comme un palais debout qui se dfait et tremble Au miroir d'un lac agit, Faut-il | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926696 | que vous aussi, le Destin vous enrle Dans cette arme en proie aux livides torpeurs, Et que, rduit, le cou rentr dans les paules, Vous ayez l'aspect de la peur? Que plus froid que le froid, sans regard, sans oreille, Germe qui se rendort dans l'oeuf universel, Vous soyez cette cire cre, dont les abeilles Ecartent leur vol fraternel! N'est-il | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926697 | pas suffisant que dj moi je parte, Que j'aille me mler aux fantmes hagards, Moi qui, plus qu'Andromaque et qu'Hlne de Sparte, Ai vu guerroyer des regards? Mon enfant, je me hais, je mprise mon me, Ce dtestable orgueil qu'ont les filles des rois, Puisque je ne peux pas tre un rempart de flamme Entre la triste mort et toi! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926698 | Mais puisque tout survit, que rien de nous ne passe, Je songe, sous les cieux o la nuit va venir, A cette ternit du temps et de l'espace Dont tu ne pourras pas sortir. --O beaut des printemps, alacrit des neiges, Rassurantes parois du vase immense et clos O, comme de joyeux et fidles arpges, Tout monte et chante sans | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000012926699 | repos!... J'AI TANT RVE PAR VOUS... J'ai tant rv par vous, et d'un coeur si prodigue, Qu'il m'a fallu vous vaincre ainsi qu'en un combat; J'ai construit ma raison comme on fait une digue, Pour que l'eau de la mer ne m'envahisse pas. J'avais tant confondu votre aspect et le monde, Les senteurs que l'espace changeait avec vous, Que, dans | 60 | gutenberg |
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