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SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT Who is the naked man that spurs A charger into Camelot, His face like Christ's? What glory stirs The air around him, do ye wot ? Sir Arthur arms him, makes array Of seven times ten thousand men, And bids them follow and obey Sir Palamede the Saracen. 17
SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT Us marsh-lights to forget the sun? There is one man of mortal men Worthy to win this benison, Sir Palamede the Saracen.” Then went the applauding murmur round : Sir Lancelot girt him there and then To ride to that enchanted ground Where amid timeless snows the den Of Palamedes might be found. 21
44 SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT Buzzing some streamlet through a wood. Sir Palamede grows mighty wroth, And mutters maledictions rude, Seeing his quarry far and loth And thieves despoiling all the bait. Now, careless of the knightly oath, The sun pours down his eastern gate. The chase is over: see ye then, Coursing afar, afoam at fate, Sir Palamede the Saracen !
SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT How agony’s unleavening yeast Stirs Palamede. Anon they tire, And follow an Egyptian priest Who boasts him master of the fire To draw down lightning, and invoke The gods upon a sandal pyre, And bring up devils in the smoke. Sir Palamede is all alone, Wrapped in his misery like a cloak, Despairing now to charm the Unknown. So arms and horse he takes again. Sir Palamede hath overthrown The jesters. Now the country men, Stupidly staring, see at noon Sir Palamede the Saracen A-riding like an harvest moon In silver …
SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT “We burn,” quoth he, “no futile fires, Nor play upon an idle reed, Nor penance vain, nor fatuous prayers— The Gods are ours, and we are theirs.” Sir Palamedes plucks the pipe The satyr tends, and blows a trill So soft and warm, so red and ripe, That echo answers from the hill In eager and voluptuous strain, While grows upon the sounding plain A gallop, and a questing turned To one profound melodious bay. Sir Palamede with pleasure burned, And bowed him to the idol grey That on the altar sneered and leered With …
92 SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT How weak Sir Palamedes grows! We hear no more of bouts and blows! His weapons are his ten good toes! He that was Arthur's peer, good knight Proven in many a foughten fight, Flees like a felon in the night! Ay! this thy quest is past the ken Of thee and of all mortal men, Sir Palamede the Saracen !
26 SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT The seamen to his stinging whip. Accurs’d of God, despising men, Thy reckless oars in ocean dip, Sir Palamede the Saracen!
48 SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT “ Bear me to some remotest den To heal me of my ills immense ; For now hath neither might nor sense Sir Palamede the Saracen.”
SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT O thou most desperate dupe that Hell’s Malice can make of mortal men! Meddle no more with magick spells, Sir Palamede the Saracen! 75
SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT With that the Beast hopes no escape, Dissolveth all his lordly shape, Splitteth him sudden into two. Sir Palamede in fury runs Unto the nearer beast, that shuns The shock, and splits, and splits again, Until the baffled warrior sees A myriad myriad swarms of these A-questing over all the plain. The good knight reins his charger in. “ Now, by the faith of Paladin! The subtle quest at last I ken.” Rides off to Camelot to plight The faith of many a noble knight, Sir Palamede the Saracen. 57
SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT Straight he dissolved, a voiceless shade. “Or scotched or slain,” the knight said then, “What odds? Keep bright and sharp thy blade, Sir Palamede the Saracen!” 95
SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT Beast. Standing up, that he may enjoy the reward, he findeth another answer to the riddle. Yet abideth in the quest. xxxviii. Sir Palamede is confronted by a stranger knight, whose arms are his own, as also his features, This knight mocketh Sir Palamede for an impudent pretender, and impersonator of the chosen knight. Sir Palamede in all humility alloweth that there is no proof possible, and offereth ordeal of battle, in which the stranger is slain, Sir Palamede heweth him into the smallest dust without pity, x…
34 SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT He was so sick and ill at ease And hot against his fellow men, He thought to end his purpose then— Nay! let him seek new lands and seas, Sir Palamede the Saracen !
…ar lad. Anything you can do, of course—I will let you know at once. By the way, you haven’t asked her yet, I suppose? DELHOMME. Not yet, sir. I am rather diffident: I do not care to precipitate affairs. ossory. Well, I am really very anxious to see her future assured. And you know our proverb, “The early bird catches the worm.” [Potnts to him, and over his shoulder to her.] There's our scientific friend, eh? DELHOMME. Oh, I’m not afraid of him. A /arceur, no more, though sometimes a pleasant one. ossory. Tu fen f—, ca, mon vieux chameau? Quoi? …
…rides to war The indomitable Palamede. The Paynim fly ; his troops delight In murder of many a myriad men, Following exultant into fight Sir Palamede the Saracen. Now when a year and day are done Sir Palamedes is aware Of blue pavilions in the sun, And bannerets fluttering in the air. Forward he spurs; his armour gleams; Then on his haunches rears the steed; Above the lordly silk there streams The pennon of Sir Palamede! Aflame, a bridegroom to his spouse, He rides to meet with galliard grace Some scion of his holy house, Or germane to his roya…
32 SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT And thereto at the end is Hell. Believe! And why believe? Because It is a thing impossible.” Sir Palamede his pulses pause. “It is not possible” (quod he) “That Palamede is wroth, and draws His sword, decapitating thee. By parity of argument This deed of blood must surely be.” With that he suddenly besprent All Scythia with the sage’s blood, And laughing in his woe he went Unto a further field and flood, Aye guided by that wizard’s head, That like a windy moon did scud Before him, winking eyes of red And sna…
XIII Sir PALAMEDE is come anon Into a blue delicious bay. A mountain towers thereupon, Wherein some fiend of ages gone Is whelmed by God, yet from his breast Spits up the flame, and ashes grey. Hereby Sir Palamede his quest Pursues withouten let or rest. Seeing the evil mountain be, Remembering all his evil years, He knows the Questing Beast runs free— Author of Evil, then, is he! Whereat immediate resounds The noise he hath sought so long: appears There quest a thirty couple hounds Within its belly as it bounds. Lifting his eyes, he sees at la…
… off, a Gothic spire he spies, That like a gladiator towers Its spear-sharp splendour to the skies. The people cluster round, acclaim : “Sir Knight, good knight, thy quest is won. Here dwells the Beast in orient flame, Spring-sweet, and swifter than the sun!” Sir Palamede the Saracen Spurs to the shrine, afire to win The end; and all the urgent men Throng with him eloquently in. Sir Palamede his vizor drops; He lays his loyal lance in rest; He drives the rowels home—he stops! Faugh! but a black-mouthed money-chest! 63
64 SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT He turns—the friendly folk are gone, Gone with his sumpter-mules and train Beyond the infinite horizon Of all he hopes to see again! His brain befooled, his pocket picked— How the Beast cachinnated then, Far from that doleful derelict Sir Palamede the Saracen |
40 XV Sir PaLaMeEDE the Saracen Hath come to an umbrageous land Where nymphs abide, and Pagan men. The Gods are nigh, say they, at hand. How warma throb from Venus stirs The pulses of her worshippers ! Nor shall the Tuscan God be found Reluctant from the altar-stone : His perfume shall delight the ground, His presence to his folk be known In darkling grove and glimmering shrine— O ply the kiss and pour the wine! Sir Palamede is fairly come Into a place of glowing bowers, Where all the Voice of Time is dumb: Before an altar crowned with flowers …