But Vivien half-forgotten of the Queen Among her damsels broidering sat,heard,watched And whispered:through the peaceful court she crept And whispered:then as Arthur in the highest Leavened the world,so Vivien in the lowest,Arriving at a time of golden rest,And sowing one ill hint from ear to ear,While all the heathen lay at Arthur's feet,And no quest came,but all was joust and play,Leavened his hall.They heard and let her be.
Thereafter as an enemy that has left Death in the living waters,and withdrawn,The wily Vivien stole from Arthur's court.
She hated all the knights,and heard in thought Their lavish comment when her name was named.
For once,when Arthur walking all alone,Vext at a rumour issued from herself Of some corruption crept among his knights,Had met her,Vivien,being greeted fair,Would fain have wrought upon his cloudy mood With reverent eyes mock-loyal,shaken voice,And fluttered adoration,and at last With dark sweet hints of some who prized him more Than who should prize him most;at which the King Had gazed upon her blankly and gone by:
But one had watched,and had not held his peace:
It made the laughter of an afternoon That Vivien should attempt the blameless King.
And after that,she set herself to gain Him,the most famous man of all those times,Merlin,who knew the range of all their arts,Had built the King his havens,ships,and halls,Was also Bard,and knew the starry heavens;The people called him Wizard;whom at first She played about with slight and sprightly talk,And vivid smiles,and faintly-venomed points Of slander,glancing here and grazing there;And yielding to his kindlier moods,the Seer Would watch her at her petulance,and play,Even when they seemed unloveable,and laugh As those that watch a kitten;thus he grew Tolerant of what he half disdained,and she,Perceiving that she was but half disdained,Began to break her sports with graver fits,Turn red or pale,would often when they met Sigh fully,or all-silent gaze upon him With such a fixt devotion,that the old man,Though doubtful,felt the flattery,and at times Would flatter his own wish in age for love,And half believe her true:for thus at times He wavered;but that other clung to him,Fixt in her will,and so the seasons went.
Then fell on Merlin a great melancholy;
He walked with dreams and darkness,and he found A doom that ever poised itself to fall,An ever-moaning battle in the mist,World-war of dying flesh against the life,Death in all life and lying in all love,The meanest having power upon the highest,And the high purpose broken by the worm.
So leaving Arthur's court he gained the beach;There found a little boat,and stept into it;And Vivien followed,but he marked her not.
She took the helm and he the sail;the boat Drave with a sudden wind across the deeps,And touching Breton sands,they disembarked.
And then she followed Merlin all the way,Even to the wild woods of Broceliande.
For Merlin once had told her of a charm,The which if any wrought on anyone With woven paces and with waving arms,The man so wrought on ever seemed to lie Closed in the four walls of a hollow tower,From which was no escape for evermore;And none could find that man for evermore,Nor could he see but him who wrought the charm Coming and going,and he lay as dead And lost to life and use and name and fame.
And Vivien ever sought to work the charm Upon the great Enchanter of the Time,As fancying that her glory would be great According to his greatness whom she quenched.
There lay she all her length and kissed his feet,As if in deepest reverence and in love.
A twist of gold was round her hair;a robe Of samite without price,that more exprest Than hid her,clung about her lissome limbs,In colour like the satin-shining palm On sallows in the windy gleams of March:
And while she kissed them,crying,'Trample me,Dear feet,that I have followed through the world,And I will pay you worship;tread me down And I will kiss you for it;'he was mute:
So dark a forethought rolled about his brain,As on a dull day in an Ocean cave The blind wave feeling round his long sea-hall In silence:wherefore,when she lifted up A face of sad appeal,and spake and said,'O Merlin,do ye love me?'and again,'O Merlin,do ye love me?'and once more,'Great Master,do ye love me?'he was mute.
And lissome Vivien,holding by his heel,Writhed toward him,slided up his knee and sat,Behind his ankle twined her hollow feet Together,curved an arm about his neck,Clung like a snake;and letting her left hand Droop from his mighty shoulder,as a leaf,Made with her right a comb of pearl to part The lists of such a board as youth gone out Had left in ashes:then he spoke and said,Not looking at her,'Who are wise in love Love most,say least,'and Vivien answered quick,'I saw the little elf-god eyeless once In Arthur's arras hall at Camelot:
But neither eyes nor tongue--O stupid child!
Yet you are wise who say it;let me think Silence is wisdom:I am silent then,And ask no kiss;'then adding all at once,'And lo,I clothe myself with wisdom,'drew The vast and shaggy mantle of his beard Across her neck and bosom to her knee,And called herself a gilded summer fly Caught in a great old tyrant spider's web,Who meant to eat her up in that wild wood Without one word.So Vivien called herself,But rather seemed a lovely baleful star Veiled in gray vapour;till he sadly smiled:
'To what request for what strange boon,'he said,'Are these your pretty tricks and fooleries,O Vivien,the preamble?yet my thanks,For these have broken up my melancholy.'
And Vivien answered smiling saucily,'What,O my Master,have ye found your voice?
I bid the stranger welcome.Thanks at last!
But yesterday you never opened lip,Except indeed to drink:no cup had we:
