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…tangled undergrowth. Sir Palamede the Saracen Came on a forest pool at length, Remote from any mart of men, Where there disported in his strength The lone and lordly elephant. Sir Palamede his forehead beat. “O amorous! O militant! O lord of this arboreal seat!” Thus worshipped he, and stalking stole Into the Presence: he emerged. The scent awakes the uneasy soul Of that Majestic One: upsurged 29
… for a space Deliberates on his rustic bed. “T lack the quarry’s awful pace” (Quod he); “my limbs are slack as lead.” So, as he gets his strength, he seeks The castles where the pennons red Of dawn illume their dreadful peaks. There dragons stretch their horrid coils Adown the winding clefts and creeks : From hideous mouths their venom boils. But Palamede their fury ’scapes, Their malice by his valour foils, Climbing aloft by bays and capes Of rock and ice, encounters oft The loathly sprites, the misty shapes Of monster brutes that lurk aloft. …
…ateful visions in the day. Where are the antient speed and might Were wont to animate that clay? Nine days; they stumble on; no more His strength avails to bear the child. Still hangs the mist, and still before Yawns the immeasurable wild. Twelve days: the end. Afar he spies The mountains stooping to the plain ; A little splash of sunlight lies Beyond the everlasting rain. 15
74 With firm red lips and square black beard, Osiris in his strength appeared. He made the sign that saveth men On Palamede the Saracen. ’Hath hushed his conjuration grim: The curse comes back to sleep with him. Hath fallen himself to that profane Whence none might ever rise again. Dread torture racks him; all his bones Get voice to utter forth his groans. The very poison of his blood Joins in that cry’s soul-shaking flood. For many a chiliad counted well His soul stayed in its proper Hell. Then, when Sir Palamedes came Back to himself, the shr…
…and lean through court and hall; Though sharp and swift the archers speed Their yardlong arrows from the wall. Their numbers thin; their strength decays; Their fate is written plain to read. These are the dread deciduous days Of iron-souled Sir Palamede. He hears the horrid laugh that rings From camp to camp at night ; he hears The cruel mouths of murderous kings Laugh out one menace that he fears. No sooner shall the heroes die Than, ere their flesh begin to rot, The heathen turns his raving eye To Caerlon and Camelot.
…ouple hounds Quested within thee, Palamede! Now, then, he grasps the desperate truth He hath toiled these many years to see, Hath wasted strength, hath wasted youth— He was the Beast; the Beast was he! He rises from the cave of death, Runs to the sea with shining face To know at last the Bounteous Breath, To taste the Goodly Gift of Grace. Ah! Palamede, thou hast mistook! Thou art the butt of all confusion! Not to be written in my book Is this most drastic disillusion! So weak and ill was he, I doubt If he might hear the royal feast Of laughter…
50 And eager hope in brilliance burns Within the circle of his brows As fast he flies, the snow he spurns. Ah! what a youth and strength he vows To the achievement of the quest ! And now the horrid height allows His mastery: day by day from crest To crest he hastens: faster fly His feet: his body knows not rest, Until with magic speed they ply Like oars the snowy waves, surpass In one day’s march the galaxy Of Europe’s starry mountain mass. “Now,” quoth he, “let me find the quest!” The Beast sterte up. Sir Knight, alas! Day after day they race,…
…ipped in God’s bitter school! (He moaned a mighty malison !) The perfect knight? The perfect fool! “Now, by God’s wounds!” quoth he, “my strength Is burnt out to a pest of pains. Let me fling off my curse at length In old Chaldea’s starry plains! Thou blesséd Jesus, foully nailed Unto the cruel Calvary tree, Look on my soul’s poor fort assailed By all the hosts of devilry ! Is there no medicine but death That shall avail me in my place, That I may know the Beauteous Breath And taste the Goodly Gift of Grace? Keep Thou yet firm this trembling le…
16 His strength is done; he cannot stir. The child complains—how feebly now! His eyes are blank ; he looks at her; The cold sweat gathers on his brow. To save the world—three days away|! His life in knighthood’s life is furled, And knighthood’s life in his—to-day |— His darling staked against the world | Will he die there, his task undone? Or dare he live, at such a cost? He cries against the impassive sun : The world is dim, is all but lost. Then, with the bitterness of death Cutting his soul, his fingers clench The piteous passage of her brea…
…heed!” He backed his horse, covered his breast, Drove his spurs home, and rode upon That knight. His lance-head fairly struck The barred strength of his morion, And rolled the stranger in the muck. “ Now, by God’s death!” quoth Palamede, His sword at work, “I will not leave So much of thee as God might feed His sparrows with. As I believe The sweet Christ’s mercy shall avail, So will I not have aught for thee ; Since every bone of thee may rail Against me, crying treachery.
…all this miracle is naught. Off on my travels once again ! I keep my youth regained to foil Old Time that took me in his toil. I keep my strength regained to chase The Beast that mocks me now as then Dear Christ! I pray Thee of Thy grace Take pity on the forlorn case Of Palamede the Saracen!”
…d on his throat. Thrill upon thrill courseth through Palamede. Life, life, pure life is bubbling in his blood. All youth comes back, all strength, all joy indeed Flaming within that throbbing spirit-flood! 103
…he smallest dust without pity, xxxix. In a green valley he obtaineth the vision of Pan, Thereby he regaineth all that he had expended of strength and youth; is gladdened thereat, for he now devoteth again his life to the quest; yet more utterly cast down than ever, for that this supreme vision is not the Beast. xl. Upon the loftiest summit of a great mountain he perceiveth Naught. Even this is, however, not the Beast. xii. Returning to Camelot to announce his failure, he maketh entrance into the King’s hall, whence he started out upon the quest…