![The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20] - Читать Любимую Русскую Полную Книгу 👉 Read-E-Book.com](/uploads/posts/books/4/0/5/6/the-world-s-greatest-books-volumes-1-15-17-20-download.jpg)
The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]
- Автор: Gutenberg
- Год: 1910
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Культурология
Электронная книга - «The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]». Краткое содержание книги:
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 01 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 02 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 03 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 04 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 05 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 06 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 07 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 08 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 09 — Lives and Letters от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 10 — Lives and Letters от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 11 — Ancient and Mediæval History от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 12 — Modern History от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 13 — Religion and Philosophy от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 14 — Philosophy and Economics от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 15 — Science от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 17 — Poetry and Drama от Неизвестный
The world's greatest books от Mee, Arthur, 1875-1943, joint editor & Hammerton, John Alexander, Sir, 1871-1949, joint editor & McClure, S. S. (Samuel Sidney), 1857-1949, joint editor
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 19 — Travel and Adventure от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 20 — Miscellaneous Literature and Index от Неизвестный
272
King opened the letter, and read it to his lords and ladies, who wept for pity. Then he ordered Elaine to be buried in a magnificent tomb, and after the burial spoke his regret to Lancelot that he had never married, and could not marry the Lily-maid. As for the Queen, she asked Sir Lancelot's forgiveness for her anger, saying that hers was " jealousy in love." But Lancelot pondered much over matters, deeming Elaine's love tenderer than Guinevere's.
IV.—Guinevere
Queen Guinevere had fled the Court, and sat There in the holy house at Almesbury Weeping, none with her save a little maid, A novice. One low light betwixt them burn'd, Blurr'd by the creeping mist; for all abroad, Beneath a moon unseen albeit at full, The white mist, like a face-cloth to the face, Clung to the dead earth, and the land was still.
For it had happened thus at Court, that Modred, who was all ear and eye," had cliribed one day to
The high top of the garden wall
To spy some secret scandal if he might.
He little saw, for Lancelot passing by
Spied where he crouched, and as the gardener's hand
Picks from the colewort a green caterpillar,
So from the high wall and the flowering grove
Of grasses, Lancelot plucked him by the heel,
And cast him as a worm upon the way.
But when Lancelot told this matter to the Queen
at first she laughed, Then laughed again, but faintlier, for indeed She half foresaw that he, the subtle beast, Would track her guilt until he found, and hers Would be for evermore a name of scorn. Henceforward, too, the Powers that tend the soul, To help it from the death that cannot die,
273
And save it, even in extremes, began
To vex and plague her. Many a time for hours,
Beside the placid breathings of the King,
In the dead night, grim faces came and went
Before her, or a vague spiritual fear—
Like to some doubtful noise of creaking doors,
Heard by the watcher in a haunted house,
That keeps the rust of murder on the walls—
Held her awake; or if she slept, she dream'd
An awful dream.
So Lancelot and she agreed to part, after one final meeting.
Passion-pale they met And greeted: hands in hands, and eye to eye, Low on the border of her couch they sat Stammering and staring: it was their last hour, A madness of farewells. And Modred brought His creatures to the basement of the tower For testimony; and crying with full voice " Traitor, come out, ye are trapt at last," Aroused Lancelot, who, rushing outward lionlike Leapt on him, and hurled him headlong, and he fell Stunned, and his creatures took and bare him off, And all was still.
Now Lancelot had offered to take the Queen to his castle over seas; but she refused, and took refuge in the convent of Almesbury, giving not her name, while he went back to his own land. And on this melancholy evening, when the mist " clung to the dead earth," as we have seen in the beginning of the poem, a rumour had reached the convent that Sir Modred had usurped the realm and leagued himself with the heathen, while the King was waging war on Lancelot; and the little maid, who had been wont to amuse Guinevere by her naive garrulity, now so stung her by her frank comments on the wickedness of Lancelot and the Queen that Guinevere, thinking the Abbess and the nuns must have discovered her identity and set the child on out of malice to speak thus, angrily dismissed her. Then Guinevere passed into a reverie of the golden days in which she first saw Lancelot, until the sudden cry of " the King! " made her fall from her seat and grovel with her face against the floor.
274
There, with her milk-white arms and shadowy hair,
She made her face a darkness from the King,
And in the darkness heard his armed feet
Pause by her; then came silence, then a voice,
Monotonous and hollow like a ghost's
Denouncing judgment, but tho' changed, the King's:
" Liest thou here so low, the child of one
I honoured, happy, dead before thy shame?
Well is it that no child is born of thee.
The children born of thee are sword and fire,
Red ruin, and the breaking-up of laws,
The craft of kindred, and the godless hosts
Of heathen swarming o'er the Northern Sea.
And knowest thou now from whence I come—from
him, From waging war with Lancelot: and he, That did not shun to smite me in worse way, Had yet that grace of courtesy in him left, He spared to lift his hand against the King. But many more when Modred raised revolt, Forgetful of their truth and fealty, clave To Modred, and a remnant stays with me. Bear with me for the last time while I show, Even for thy sake, the sin which thou hast sinned. I was the first of all the kings who drew The knighthood-errant of this realm and all The realms together under me, their Head, In that fair Order of my Table Round. I made them lay their hands in mine, and swear To reverence the King, as if he were Their conscience, and their conscience as their King; To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it, To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, To love one maiden only, cleave to her And worship her by years of noble deeds
275
Until they won her.
And all this throve Until I wedded thee."
He paused, and in the pause she crept an inch Nearer, and laid her hands about his feet. Far off a solitary trumpet blew. Then, waiting by the doors, the war-horse neighed As at a friend's voice, and he spake again. " Yet think not that I come to urge thy crimes, I did not come to curse thee, Guinevere, I, whose vast pity almost makes me die To see thee, laying there thy golden head, My pride in happier summers, at my feet. Lo! I forgive thee, as Eternal God Forgives: do thou for thine own soul the rest. But how to take last leave of all I loved?
0 golden hair, with which I used to play Not knowing! O imperial-moulded form, And beauty such as never woman wore, Until it came a kingdom's curse with thee—
1 cannot touch thy lips, they are not mine.
But Lancelot's; nay, they never were the King's. I cannot take thy hand; that too is flesh, And in the flesh thou hast sinn'd; but yet I say Let no man dream but that I love thee still. Perchance, and so thou purify thy soul, And so thou lean on our fair father Christ, We two may meet before high God and thou Wilt spring to me, and claim me thine, and know I am thine husband—Not a smaller soul, Not Lancelot, nor another. Leave me that, I charge thee, my last hope. Farewell! "
And while she grovelled at his feei, She felt the King's breath wander o'er her neck, And in the darkness, o'er her fallen head, Perceived the waving of his hands that blest.
And so the King left Guinevere—to fight the great battle in the West in which he must needs strike down his sister's son, and Modred's heathen allies, in which, too, he himself was doomed to meet death or some mysterious doom. But the Queen, overcome by her meeting with him, and repenting of her grievous sin, revealed herself to the Abbess and became one of the nuns. Thus she lived till the Abbess died.
Then she for her good deeds and her pure life, And likewise for the high rank she had borne, Was chosen Abbess there, and Abbess lived For three brief years, and there, an Abbess, passed To where, beyond these voices there is peace.
In Memoriam
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen Thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove ;