Love shall bid him go or stay! Love the best, or love the worst, Holiest love, or love accurst. Say on. What is this love that bids him go? I can but read the words that Fate hath writ. Then we have done with Fate. Go, get thee hence, And never more shall that dark face of thine Pass, like a withered shadow, through these halls! I go hence, yet Fate shall stay, Till the dawn of that dread day; He Pendragon's son shall slay That is born with the May! As Merlin goes out the hall grows darker, and the sunset at the back gleams more brightly.
My lord, I pray you call him back again! Nay, heed him not, my Queen — nor, Lancelot, thou! For if indeed Love speaks with double voice, One base, one noble, then be sure my lips Do bear the nobler message; for the world Tells of no higher, purer love than that Of brother unto brother. Such in truth Is my great love for thee, that bids thee stay! I know not how to answer for myself! Yet, once before, when we were at debate The verdict of our Queen did end all strife.
I crave it now, her word shall be my law! Then thou shalt stay: for she and I are one, With but one voice, one tongue, one heart, one soul! Now, Guinevere, declare thy will. My lord, A woman is too weak to rule men's hearts. Not so, my Queen. Hath not thy purer heart, Sole ruler over him who rules this realm, Won, from rude wars, that sweeter crown of peace That smiles upon our land from sea to sea?
And wouldst thou fail me now? Indeed, indeed I would. Nay, I command thee — speak as I would speak! Ay, madam, speak! My life lies in thy word. My lord, I do thy bidding — Lancelot, stay! The Knights of the Grail file past, singing as they go. Ere those lips be dumb That would bid thee stay; Ere the night be come, Rise, and come away!
We, who go forth to seek the Holy Grail, Win, ere night be come, Light that shall not fail. A company of Maidens, garlanded with white may, descend the slope. They are followed by Guinevere and her Ladies. We shall tell ye nay: Love, the first of all flowers made, Lives from May to May.
He beneath whose sun-kissed feet Daisies rise to kiss the sun, Lily, rose, and meadow-sweet, — Love, that is all flowers in one, Love is here. Heed not then the blooms that fall, Dying with the day, Love, the sweetest flower of all, Lives from May to May. Here, on the verge of this untravelled wood, Beneath Love's flowering banner, we have set Our camp of war. For, know ye, ladies all, That dread adventure whereunto ye are called Is no poor mockery of a tournament Such as our lords love, jousting for a prize!
Our cause is mortal; and those unseen swords We women wield, are forged to pierce men's hearts. Whereat, if any cheek grow white with fear, Let its poor owner straightway quit the field. Nay, all are brave? Yet hear me — not like timorous men who find Their courage grow from fellowship in fear, Wherefore in serried ranks they face their foe.
Our greater strength hath ever best been proved In single combat: so we fight to-day; Nor need these fairer faces be encased In casques of steel; that never was our plan — For so indeed we should but hide from view All Love's bright armoury that lodges there.
But, truth, I waste my breath where all are skilled In these same arts of war. Therefore set forth, Each on her chosen way, for in this wood Lurks many a pleasant bower o'er-roofed with green, Where moss and harebells weave a patterned floor With shifting tracery of added gold, Shot from the sun's eyes, peeping through the boughs Of flowering thorn.
There should each lady lead Her conquered knight, that so, by gentler arts, Her love may cure the wounds that Love hath made. So, fare we all till sunset.
Haste, away! As they move towards the wood, Dagonet rushes in and falls on his knees before the Queen. He bears a large rough garland of flowers hanging about his neck like a horse-collar. Sweet ladies, save me though ye love me not! I am sore pressed. What, hath some beast pursued thee? Ay, truth, a most sweet beast, yet fearsome, too. I pray you, madam, let us call these knights.
We are in danger else. Is this your valour, That so you quake at shadows? Shame on ye! Ay, shame, for here is a beast that will harm no lady, though at this budding season 'tis very fatal to man. I would hear more of this beast. What form hath it?
Well, to be plain yet modest withal, and not too curious, it is in all things shaped like a woman. Truly, a very monstrous woman that would so pursue a fool. Faith, there be many such, though 'tis only your sage fool that fears them. Rise, Dagonet, and tell us how it chanced. Then stiffen your sinews, for 'tis a heart-shaking legend. Hither came I through the wood, thinking of naught, and so counting myself wise beyond my years, when of a sudden I espied a maid who tended a herd of swine; whereat, I do confess it, I fell a-weeping bitterly, for surely never was mortal woman so fitly employed.
You hear him, madam. Nay, let him run on. Ay, 'tis the finish that will cause ye to quake. For this same maid, not content with her most righteous calling, and haply moved by my tears, most artfully flung this halter about my neck, and swore a most villainous oath that she loved me well.
Whereat I, being, as 'tis known, only half a fool, slipped from her embrace, and fled incontinently. Now thou art half a man, and therefore a most complete fool, that could so dread to be loved. Wherein thou art wrong, for I have a leaning that way, being very tenderly fashioned, and with a taste for red lips. But alack, I am troubled with a most constant heart that goes not with love!
How say you? Is it so wise to rail against constancy? Nay, I would question thee. Canst tell me now what is most like to a river that drains to the sea? Faith, I cannot. Why, a maiden who weeps in the rain. Where hast thou seen that? Last night, where I sheltered from the storm, there passed a lady sobbing as she rode, and with her tears the rain kept even tune; 'twas a sweet contest, yet I'll warrant her eyes outstayed the drippings of the sky.
Knew you her face? Go, fool, on your way. Ay, madam, by your leave, for I must seek the King, who comes from hunting. In May-time your King and your fool were ever very prettily assorted. He goes up the hill singing. The cuckoo's note doth haunt the May, And some are glad, And some grow mad, But the fool goes singing on his way. Exit Dagonet. As he goes the Queen stands wrapt in thought. Nay, madam, see, 'tis noon, we waste our day. Truly; lift up your voices, let us on.
And, at nightfall when ye part, Whispering shall say: Love is lord of every heart, Love is lord of May. The Ladies wander off through the wood preceded by the company of singing maidens, whose voices grow gradually fainter as they are lost in the distance, and at the last Guinevere follows slowly, and as she goes off, Morgan enters, and stands gazing after her, while at the same time Merlin appears on the rising path above.
March on, my Queen, in all thy bravery! He that is lord of May and of thy heart, Blind leader of the blind, shall draw thee on, Where Lancelot waits for thee, love's slave and ours. The scabbard's gone, but England's lord Holds till death the naked sword. May-day is here, and we, thy ministers, Need no fresh spur to hasten Fate's decree.
At dawn I heard the splashing of the mere, And saw that jewelled scabbard sink and sink Till, like a glittering rainbow, down the deep It vanished, and the shuddering tide grew still.
Dost thou know aught of this? Not I, forsooth! Thou liest, for I tracked thee in thy theft, And saw thee creep beside the sleeping King, Whose hand held fast that naked blade which gleamed, A bar of quivering moonlight, by his side. Thou hast stolen the scabbard, but no mortal hand Shall take the sword. What then? To him, but not to thee. Whose hand shall take it then, when death draws near? Exit Merlin. Croak on, let Death but come; we'll chance the rest!
Enter Mordred. Whose voice was that? What is thy news? Beyond our hope; Ryons and Mark are joined In equal strength of war, and, by this hour, Their glittering squadrons, like a serpent, coil Around Caerleon's walls.
Whence got you this? Sir Morys from Caerleon rode post haste To warn our Master. He will ride no more. Ay, all are guarded, let but this day pass With no unwelcome note to wake the King, Then war may shriek its loudest; all is sure.
Hast thou forgotten Lancelot? What of him? Nay, track him through the wood, and thou shalt learn. Come hither, see where, trembling, hand to hand, With speechless answering eyes, they woo the spring. Love sets the snare, but the caged bird is ours. For ere night's dusky arms enfold the sun, Lancelot shall be thy partner and thy slave. Exeunt Morgan and Mordred. The May Song is heard faintly in the distance. Enter Sir Lavaine and Clarissant. Dost think our love will live from May to May? Nay, ask me that when May-day comes again.
Ah, tell me now! I'll tell thee all I know. If thou dost woo me well, I'll love thee well, — Should no one woo me better! Wouldst thou be wooed That art already won? Most surely, sir! Who holds my heart must win it every day; And when 'tis won, 'tis then it must be wooed And won again.
Why, 'twas but yesterday That thou didst swear thy love would last till death. Ay, that was yesterday. And shall thine oath Live but an hour? What is there in these oaths That you poor men so fondly cherish them?
Perchance they fit your duller brains, which seek, With empty words, to bind the unborn hours. But we do wrong to humour you in this. We should not swear at all, knowing full well There's no to-morrow in a woman's heart, Which hath its yesterday of joy or pain Whose savour, lingering on our lips to-day, Makes all the present half a memory — The future all a blank.
Then ask me not If I shall love thee when the year is worn; I loved thee yesterday: so be content. Ah, but thou lovest to-day? To-day is young; Ask me at sundown, I will tell thee then. Exit laughing, and he following her. Enter Guinevere and Lancelot. The wood is dark. Let us be in the sun. And now, beneath this open vault of day, 'Twould change again to night wert thou not here. I had a foolish fear I should not find thee.
Nay, Guinevere, thou knowest that could not be. Indeed, 'tis true, for wandering alone Across the leafy screen that hedged my way, From every side I heard the echoing laugh Of Love's encounter. Then the wood grew still, And, softer than the silence, came the sound Of whispered vows from lips but newly met; And then, beneath an opening arch of green, Two lovers passed, with hand in hand locked close. Ah, Lancelot! I was lonely as a child Locked in a darkened room.
I called thee then; Didst thou not hear me? Ay, and saw thee, too. Thou didst not answer? Nay, forgive me, sweet! I could but watch thee. That was cruel, sir. No, it was a year! And in that year a thousand thronging fears With devil faces perched amid the boughs. What were thy fears? So many all in one: That I should lose thee. Lancelot putting his arms round her.
Never, until death. Ah, speak not so of death! I have seen a face That frighted me like death. Whose face and where? Within the wood. Those empty words of his do haunt thee still. I wonder at thy fears. Nay, scold me not. There's nothing haunts me when I have thee near.
Love shuts the door on all things save itself, On all that's past and all that is to come When thou art by! Tell me, 'tis so with thee? Ay, sweet, 'tis so. Ah, say it once again! I could not live, Lancelot, if in thy heart There lurked the tiniest little ache or pain Love might not cure.
Thou knowest all my heart; And in my love, which knows no law but love, The future and the past are drowning straws Caught in the full tide of our present joy, That neither ebbs nor flows. He holds her in a close embrace as Morgan and Mordred enter stealthily; at the same time is heard the sound of distant thunder, and the scene darkens. Dost mark them well? Ambition, honour, duty, all that life Once held most dear, by thy sweet will subdued, Now wear Love's livery and would serve Love's Queen.
The thunder is heard again and nearer. What sound was that? See, it grows dark again! It came like sudden night. Let us go in. Nay, tremble not; 'twill pass And leave Heaven's deeper blue. What shouldst thou fear? I know not. Hold me closer, closer still, That so my heart may catch the fearless tune Of thy heart's steadfast music. Now I am brave, And could be always, wert thou always here, So let us on.
Yet tell me o'er again — Ah, I do tease thee; 'tis but this once more — Tell me, whate'er befall, that thou art mine! For ever and for ever I am thine. A crash of thunder and a lightning flash. He lies, my Queen; not thine, but mine till death! Sir Morys slain? Ay, murdered. But by whom? That's still to find. Know you from whence he came? Straight from Caerleon, whither, as I heard, He rode with sealed advices for the King.
Said I not well? Arthur has been forestalled. Why, 'twas but yesterday the King did note His long delay. It was but yesternight We found him murdered. Sirs, if this be so There's something more than murder. More, in truth!
Lancelot, some traitor lurking near the throne, In secret league with Arthur's enemies, By this same villainous act now stands possessed Of what the King should know.
What must be done? Let Lancelot speak. I'll straightway to the King And tell him all. Then, should we win his leave, At nightfall we'll to horse, nor draw the rein Until Caerleon's towers cut the sky.
Exeunt Kay, Agravaine, and Gawaine. During the next speech Mordred enters. Whose hand is here? Of all our knights but one In my most secret heart dare stand accused Of this foul deed. Morys is slain! Sir Morys slain! Nay, 'tis some idle jest. That is not all; the advices that he bore — Are stolen. Is it possible? Ay, sir, and true; which news must to the King. Most surely: yet not now; he is fatigued, And would not be disturbed.
To-morrow, sir. Nay, sir, to-day; an hour's delay may risk The safety of his throne, perchance his life. Nay, spare thy skill, 'Tis aptly feigned, in faith I'd say 'twas true Did I not hold a key that locks thy heart.
What dost thou mean? I mean, should Arthur pass He leaves behind a kingdom, and a Queen Who loves him not. Who says so foully lies. Lancelot, throw off this mask, it fits thee not, Be what thou art, nor fear what thou wouldst be.
Let candour answer candour. It was I Who slew this messenger. His papers here Bring the rich news that ere a week be past Caerleon's gates must yield to the assault Of Ryon's siege, whose vengeance stays not there; The King himself is doomed; and, the King dead, His throne is mine, and thine his widowed Queen. I knew it. Thou shalt to the King, In whose dread presence, from that villain's throat, I'll force those words again.
I dare thy worst! Yet breathe one word and I will tell a tale Shall make thee cower like a beaten hound. Thou'st naught to tell. Fie, sir, for shame. So then thou didst not guess I lurked so near, and saw thee lip to lip, Cuddling beneath the may; that is love's trick, Who blindfold deems that all the world is blind.
Now to the King! See, sir, the way is clear. Wouldst thou pause? Hast thou no heart to win That sweet reward that waits thy loyal zeal — A traitor's death? What were that death to me? Vile wretch! Movement towards Mordred. Look where she comes; Take thought with her, she will advise thee well. As Merlin turns to look at the sleeping knights, she disappears. The following morning, Merlin takes charge of the knights, insisting that he knows the way.
They give him the benefit of the doubt, and sure enough, Merlin leads them through the baffling undergrowth to the forest's edge. They cross the wasteland filled with skeletons and enter the tower, only for Merlin to point out that it's far too easy. Sure enough, as they enter a wide room paved with flag-stones, arrow begin to shoot out of the open mouths of statues lining the walls.
Quickly realizing that weight upon the flag-stones are what sets them off, the boy begin to throw their belts and scabbards down on the floor in order to trigger them with Merlin's magic deflecting a few stray ones. Elyan races ahead and makes it up another flight of stairs where he finds Gwen standing in a room with a levitating sword by her side. She warns him that Morgana has enchanted it to protect her no matter what, but Elyan refuses to leave her.
He begins to fight the sword, and eventually manages to send it flying through an open window - but not before it inflicts a fatal wound.
He falls into Guinevere's arms. Back in Camelot, Elyan's body is set adrift in a flaming boat as the court watches. Arthur stands by Gwen's side, and Merlin quietly confides in Gaius that he was warned one of them would not return. Gaius points out that Morgana no doubt intended the magic sword to be for Arthur - by giving his life, the King and Queen are safe. That night, Arthur and Gwen are asleep when Gwen wakes up and slips out of bed. She throws on a black cloak and heads down the stairs, through the courtyard, and out into the forest.
There Morgana is waiting for her. The two women hug and Guinevere assures Morgana of her loyalty. Community Showcase More. Follow TV Tropes. You need to login to do this. Get Known if you don't have an account. The Dark Tower. Arthur : I've decided to journey to the Dark Tower.
It's my belief that Guinevere's been imprisoned there. The patchwork knight is injured and Guinevere realizes she is a woman.
She briefly regains consciousness and finds herself surrounded by women who are taking turns sucking the poison from her arm. When Guinevere wakes, the patchwork knight explains she wanted to see the king hunt, and then Rhoslyn walks in. Guinevere assumes they sent the boar to attack her as a trap, but the women assure her they do not want to harm anyone. Guinevere heals the patchwork knight and promises not to reveal her true identity.
When they shake hands, Guinevere senses the patchwork knight is telling the truth, and she asks the knight to accompany her to visit Merlin, whose cabin is only a few hours away. The patchwork knight tells Guinevere her name is Lancelot. They explore but are slowed by a magic barrier, so Guinevere uses her dagger to carve an unmaking knot in the air.
Merlin begs Lancelot to hide, so the knight forces Guinevere behind some rocks, where they watch as water forms into the Lady of the Lake. Guinevere realizes she broke the barrier protecting Merlin. She accuses Merlin of stealing from her and betraying her. Then she forces Merlin back into the cave, collapses the entrance, and disappears.
Guinevere tries to open the cave, but it is completely sealed. When Guinevere tells everyone Lancelot saved her, Arthur offers the knight a tournament as thanks for saving the queen.
He begs her to stay with him, and she agrees. Later, Brangien tells Guinevere when she was attacked by the boar, Mordred was the first to charge into the forest, weaponless, to save her. Mordred escorts her instead. If she defeats all five, she will fight Arthur. Arthur, overjoyed to fight in the tournament, draws Excalibur. Instantly, Guinevere is ill and faints. Everyone attributes her collapse to the excitement of watching Arthur fight.
On the field, he sheaths Excalibur and picks one of the blunted tournament swords. Arthur and Lancelot battle, and it ends in a tie. At the celebration afterward, Guinevere goes to a private tent to get away from the noise. Mordred enters, telling her Arthur will never be a good husband and kissing her. Feeling that same spark from when they touched earlier, she finally realizes what she has denied herself by marrying Arthur.
But she stops the kiss, and Mordred leaves. The man turns out to be Maleagant, but Guinevere tells him Arthur will sacrifice her to save Camelot. Maleagant reveals his spy has reported Guinevere does not use the ferry in Camelot, so he knows another way into the city exists. He leaves her to think about her options. She asks him for help, but he says he is unable to.
He says she needs to fight as a queen, not as a witch, and that Arthur needs her. Merlin tells her not to look for him again and pushes her out of the dream. Guinevere asks her guards if she can use the bathroom in privacy, but her guards refuse. She does the same to the second guard and then carries Guinevere on her back across the river. Lancelot also reveals she was dismissed by Arthur when her gender was discovered.
He suggests Guinevere use her magic to wake the trees and let the forest take care of Maleagant because if they kill him, it will be traced back to Arthur. Guinevere reluctantly agrees. Guinevere cuts her hand and drops blood on the roots of the tree in front of her.
The tree wakes and grabs her, sprinkling her blood on the roots of the trees around it. The trees begin attacking them, but Guinevere gets them under control long enough to feed them images of Maleagant and his knights coming to destroy them with iron.
They begin to fight Maleagant and his men, and before he dies, Maelagant tells Guinevere what she has awoken will kill men. Then a hand appears from the ground, and Mordred reveals the woman crawling out of the dirt is his grandmother, the Dark Queen. He explains Arthur had destroyed her body after she had already sent her soul into the ground, where it remained until she could take a new form.
Mordred tries to convince Guinevere she should join him in the forest. Isolde begged him to banish them as a wedding gift, and he agreed. They reach a Saxon village and hire a ship captained by a woman named Hild. As soon as they reach the ship, Guinevere is panicked and seasick, so Brangien uses knot magic to make her sleep through the journey.
The tooth is warm; the dragon she saved from Sir Bors is nearby. Brangien finishes the potion that mimics death, and Guinevere reveals her plan to sneak into the castle and deliver it to Isolde before her trial.
Guinevere finds Isolde in a cell. Instead, Guinevere uses her magic to open the window, and they start to climb out when King Mark appears. When he grabs Guinevere and starts to strangle her, she pushes into him with her touch magic and destroys his mind. He falls to the ground, and she realizes the reality of the violence she has just done.
Together, she and Isolde run to the cave to meet up with the others. When they return to Hild and her ship, the captain reveals she knows Guinevere is the queen, and she wants to take her to her brothers, who would make good workers for Arthur, in exchange for keeping their identities a secret. Guinevere dreams of Mordred and the meadow again while asleep on the ship. When they arrive at the village, the men invite Guinevere and her party to eat, but afterward, they take Guinevere prisoner in exchange for ransom.
Lancelot offers to fight all the men for Guinevere, but Guinevere sends them away. The men lock Guinevere in a shack. There are too many men for her to work knot magic to escape, so she decides to summon the dragon to set fire to the village, creating a distraction to hide her escape.
Guinevere escapes on the dragon but quickly sees he is injured, a spear through his leg, so she sends him away and breaks their connection, hoping he will forgive her for using him and causing his injury. She wakes to see Mordred. He says he was in the area and pops her shoulder back into place, while Guinevere, sure this is another one of her dreams, says she prefers the dreams when they kiss to this one.
She tells him what happened with the dragon and confesses she is worse than Merlin because she keeps doing the wrong thing. Guinevere falls back asleep. Guinevere wakes again to Lancelot calling her name. She sees a purple and yellow flower next to her, exactly like the one Mordred gave her, and she realizes that Mordred was there. When they are alone, Arthur angrily demands who left the bruises around her neck, and Guinevere tells him what happened with King Mark.
If something unexplained happens, people will blame a woman for being a witch. Guinevere compares herself again to Merlin, using magic to get what she wanted without caring for consequences. Guinevere has another dream about Mordred, waking when Arthur climbs into bed. She kisses him, but he pushes her away, saying there is no rush.
Guinevere believes Arthur regrets marrying her, but he tells her he is only trying to protect her as every woman in his life has died in childbirth. The party is loud and crowded, and Guinevere finds herself wishing Mordred would arrive and whisk her away.
She realizes while Arthur is making an effort to spend time with her, he wants to be talking politics with the men, so she sends him into the crowd to do so. Dindrane and Brangien teach Guinevere to dance, and she spends the rest of the night with them before retiring.
The following day, Guinevere invites Lancelot to join them for breakfast. Arthur reveals the Picts are no longer a problem since Maleagant is no longer alive to provoke them, so he needs to focus on the southern borders and the invading Saxons. He tells Guinevere to go home and rule Camelot until he returns. When they arrive in Camelot, Guinevach is still there. As Guinevere discusses the harvest festival with her advisors, Guinevach barges in.
Afterward, she leaves for dinner with Dindrane, and Lancelot and Guinevere go to search her rooms. Guinevere dreams the Lady of the Lake carved the city of Camelot from the mountain. When she tells Lancelot about the dream, her knight reveals she knew the Lady of the Lake. She lived there off and on for years, training and gaining strength, believing she was chosen to kill Uther Pendragon. Dindrane arrives and tells Guinevere that Guinevach was charming, elegant, sweet, and graceful at dinner.
Guinevere makes her way to meet with her advisors, where she finds Guinevach in her seat, having called the meeting to order without her. Brangien and Guinevere go to the combat arena, but Guinevach and Anna are already there. Guinevach asks Guinevere if Arthur is away often and later asks Guinevere if she remembers what their father always said.
Sir Gawain walks up to their box with targets, bows, and arrows.
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