THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT
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When weary Lancelot discovered what
I call the Problem of the White Elaine,
It made his long sojourn in Astolat
A trial of courtesy which added pain
Of soul to pain of mind, and straitly led
Him into deep dilemma; for the girl
Who loved him lived so innocent, a maid
Of twenty summers, free from any guile.
Though Lancelot refused her love he did
Agree to wear her token at a joust
To ease her lacerated heart that would
Have broken else. Nonetheless, she had lost
Her heart to him already: every day
From then her love increased her agony.
The next day fell the tournament, and knights
Of many parties gathered for the fray;
And Lancelot and Sir Lavaine made haste
At dawn toward the field and found their way
Into a little wood nearby and kept
Them hid until the time be right to come
Out on the tilting-ground to take an apt
Advantage of surprise and overwhelm
The opposition in the field. Lavaine
And Lancelot had made a promise to
Old Sir Bernard, the father of Elaine,
That they would help his party, and in true
Knightly manner attempt to carry off
The prize and win the day. For this they strove,
And breaking from the covert of the wood,
Both thrust among the thickest of the press,
To find things going ill for Sir Bernard---
For many of his knights were in distress,
Some overthrown and wounded in the field,
And others hard beset. Now Lancelot
Put forth his strength, and gripping spear and shield
Encountered and unhorsed good knights--- they hot
Of blood, yet lacking skill---and after drew
His sword and smote down forty more, while those
Who sat and watched him wondered greatly who
This knight may be who wore the sleeve of pearls
Upon his helm: the token of Elaine;
(But in his heart an image of the Queen.)
So Lancelot returning with the great prize
Merely served to ratchet-up his problems more;
For White Elaine's adoration fanned a blaze
Of fevered flames, her importuning ardour
Raging full against him from an urgent heart,
Precluding any easement---for ardent grew
Each frantic plea of hers imploring him that
She be his paramour, him her lover now.
But Lancelot again excused himself from
Her request, told how his love already lay
Elsewhere; but made a faithful promise to come
And help in any need of hers: in this way
Would he be her own true knight, but never have
Her for paramour---he would not give his love. *
* The final sonnet is in hendecasyllabics.
Stanley
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