’Tis not unknown.
ARTHUR
Come, Duke, thou art too cruel.
GLOUCESTER
’Tis not unknown affects15 do wax with time.
All’s one, as in your autumn, you are not
The same young lovers who were wed in spring.
In time new common cause is found, and wife
And husband are as allies in a war
They cannot win, yet still are they content
To fight it side by side.
ARTHUR
Most nobly read.
Duke, grant me but a moment to revolve,
As you do teach me now, if league with France,
Made strong by unseen, sure not loathy dame,
Is best of fate for Britain and her king.
GLOUCESTER
Most gladly, lord. I’ll sit without.
ARTHUR
Our thanks.
Exit Gloucester
Cold fear now grips me closer than in war.
Dare I examine her behind her veil?
Whatsoe’er it shows, I must not credit true
For royal painters earn when they omit.
Uncovers painting
“Bonjour, princesse.” There’s all my Frankish talk.
Can this sustain our weary hours throughout
A life of matrimonial content?
“Bonjour, princesse. My kingdom wants a queen.
What say you? Find me well enough for now?
Then we must hence spend every day and night
In one another’s speechless company
Until the one of us should mercy show
And dying leave the other in sweet peace.”
Perchance I ought to praise her qualities.
“Within your bluest eye I see reflect
The fleets of France at my behest and beck.
The sun is no more golden than your hair,
Which calls to mind your treasury and wealth.
How I do long to press beneath my hands
Your soft and yielding countrymen for tax.”
Let’s taste of her smooth embassy instead:
He reads
“Great Arthur’s famous and heroic acts.”
She does write well. “Your loving friend, Matilde.”
’Tis all set here as circumstance demands.
Matilde. Matilde. ’Tis as should be.16
This then must be, ’tis right, as Gloucester says.
I’ll call him back and set it to be done.
O traitor voice, why silent now, thou knave?
But call him, coward! Now. Call now.17
Enter Constantine and Guenhera
O, brother, what relief to see thine eye!
Just now I want thy wit and company
To free my spirits from these chains of state.
CORNWALL
So long as you would have me here I’ll stay.
ARTHUR
What lady waits upon thee with such care?
GUENHERA
A lady once you termed a warty toad,
A spaniel, and your most unwelcome shadow.
ARTHUR
A warty toad? I unbelieve this lie,
Nor credit you are Guenhera who cast
Enchantments o’er us all in Gloucestershire.
Enchantments? Ha! O, King, are you not shamed?
For long years have I feared an apple’s fall,
Which does remember me at once the pain
Of being struck by them upon my head
When you would throw them at me in your mirth.
ARTHUR
I am ashamed if ere that cockerel18
I was did aught that lacked in courtesy.
GUENHERA
’Tis possible that I did bear myself
Without most ceaseless perfect comeliness.
I’truth, I fear th’most perfect gentle knight
As soon had hurled a pippin19 at my head.
ARTHUR
I am astound that this is truly you
In form made real from out my mem’ry’s mist,
And you are changed and unchanged both at once.
The workings and the crafts of wizard time!
You are become most perfect dame while still—
Within you, as behind a mask you wear—
I see today that girl, and yet more odd,
Do feel myself become again a boy
Now stood beside you feigning I am king.
GUENHERA
I’ll flee an you become again that boy
Ere crabs and costards20 take again to wing.
CORNWALL
But still art thou a barnacle, my Guen:
The king hath matters pressing for his time.
GUENHERA
I hear no plaint from him and sure I would
For that boy said my ears were long as hounds’.
ARTHUR
Indictment without end! Where’s mercy flown?
You’ll mark each scruple21 of my youthful crimes?
GUENHERA
The bill of charge22 is ’graved upon my heart.
ARTHUR
Then care of state must stand aside whilst I
Prepare defense or plead for clemency.
GUENHERA
’Tis bootless, still may hope eternal spring.23
CORNWALL
An if my sister irks you not, my king,
Excuse me now to counsel with your stabler:
I fear my horse has taken bots.24
ARTHUR
Your leave
I freely grant to nurse your steed, on term
You swear, good earl, to feast with me this night.
CORNWALL
I take it ’pon my death, your majesty.
Exit Cornwall
GUENHERA
You find me altered much from what I was?
ARTHUR
I cannot stick in speech my brawling thoughts.
GUENHERA
Then you are not so changed from woodland boy
That I unchangingly did love.
ARTHUR
Not changed?
But now I wear the costume of a king.
GUENHERA
So did you in those best of all my days.
ARTHUR
’Tis true, I clad myself as ancient kings,
Do I seem no more suited to this garb?
GUENHERA
No more, no less. I thought you perfect king
In Gloucester’s oaks, when reigning from a branch
You daily sent me to my death.
ARTHUR
Say no.
GUENHERA
But yes.
ARTHUR
A tyrant and a fool was I.
I would have piping now, not drums and fife.25
But soft, did you not say you loved that boy?
GUENHERA
I did.
ARTHUR
But love no more? What love is this
That sang to you when I was crowned with twigs
But chokes now when my crown’s all wrapped in gold?
GUENHERA
That sylvan king did not requite my love,
Remember this, but banished me from him,
Bid leave him with my brother, much preferred,
As Constantine was precious to that court.
ARTHUR
A dreary26 king he was, that despot child.
I would that I could reach across time’s moat
To lay my hand upon this purblind27 boy
And tell him love that wondrous nymph he sees.
Nay, I’ll not ever say that he was me,
For were it I who sat a day with you,
And love the issue of our argument,
’Tis sure that I would answer you in kind28
And offer tenderest affections, Guen.
If, as you say, this forest boy did not,
Then how dare
he lay claim to being me?
And yet, if he was never me, how can
I hope that you will offer still your heart?
GUENHERA
What, what? Will you mock love to me now, King?
Make light of common hearts, kings’ privilege?
ARTHUR
No mockery but of my wordless self:
No poet, Guen, no orator at all,
I am untongued when most I want new words
To lock your beauty in my longest thoughts.
I spent too soon the language I did know,
Like to an actor hoarse from preparation,
Or a traveller of the Afric coast,
Who lights with wonder on an unknown bank,
But finds he’s burnt his words on duller lands.
What can I say that was not elsewhere false?
And more above, I’d verse upon these sights,
But sure you are the matter’s wisest scholar,
Thrice-schooled in science of your beauty’s paths.
At glass you have learnt all the fields and hills:
I cannot win you with geography
Of your own kingdom’s sparkling coasts and leas.
GUENHERA
So I am Vanity in your conceit?29
ARTHUR
No saint there is who could resist that sin
Were every glass so richly laid with like
Temptation to’t. Say that you love me still.
GUENHERA
O! Kings speak love when love is politic!
Was’t Gloucester or my brother Constantine
Impressed30 your words to move sad Guenhera,
Revive her young days’ camomilèd31 hopes?
A king must wed where stratagem decides,
Where blind boy’s32 arrows, shot with policy,
Do prick the heart but slightly if at all.
What promised they I’d furnish Britain’s king?
Do I bear land or gold or men at arms?
ARTHUR
Though caution urge me hide the case, here ’tis:
I was but now set down to study love
And think how kings, though men, must sacrifice
Their own desires to commonweal’s demands.
Much wind was blown today to ope mine eyes
That Britain’s new-made master must ally
More closely now to—
GUENHERA
Cornwall?
ARTHUR
France, Guen, France.
Already are we Cornwall’s sovereign lord.
There is no policy in Guenhera
Being Arthur’s empress, yet I stand in gyves.33
I of a sudden am again a boy
But granted better wisdom of my years.
My younger sight now sharper with new wit
I mark in you far more than Cornwall’s cliffs.
GUENHERA
Thy father, too, did love a Cornish girl.
ARTHUR
But not so gently. Sure I am not he.
GUENHERA
Were’t not for Uter’s special34 appetite
My brother would not hold his watery earldom,
And I would not appear to royal eyes.
ARTHUR
We entertain conjecture such as this
And I do end the worse: unborn, unkinged.
I’d not be here and hammering the flint35
To kindle your extincted love for me.
GUENHERA
Extincted? Said I this? I do not know.
ARTHUR
That’s tying hope an inch above the reach.
To taunt a king with sour-sweet painful words
Is sure a crime that stains thy crystal name.
GUENHERA
How swift from love thou sayest I am stained!
As none dare foil thee in thy every bliss,
See thou art unaccustomed to be thwarted.
Like other Pendragons, thou’lt seize perforce36
What all thy words have failed to win with ease.
ARTHUR
Dear Guen, I say again I am not him.
The proof is in my mild and soft reply.
Though thou mayst roughly chain me to a stake,
And fill the yard, and arr37 and tear at me,
While cries for blood from every groundling38 rise,
I will but roll upon my back and sigh.
GUENHERA
But, noble bear,39 when I, a lovesick girl,
Did love that Arthur, all the world knew him
Bound in40 with dowsabels41 and ev’ry Joan.
No fury then, ’tis true: his smile sufficed
To win him what he would.
ARTHUR
While silent Guen