LANCELOT
But no no ... I remember. You are men.
You are no dreams but God, God, if you were!
If I were strong enough to make you vanish
And have you back again with yesterday
Before I lent myself to that false hunting,
Which yet may stalk the hours of many more
Than Lancelot's unhappy twelve who died,
With a misguided Colgrevance to lead them,
And Agravaine to follow and fall next,
Then should I know at last that I was King,
And I should then be King. But kings are men,
And I have gleaned enough these two years gone
To know that queens are women. Merlin told me:
'The love that never was.' Two years ago
He told me that: 'The love that never was!'
I saw but I saw nothing. Like the bird
That hides his head, I made myself see nothing.
But yesterday I saw and I saw fire.
I think I saw it first in Modred's eyes;
Yet he said only truth and fire is right.
It is it must be fire. The law says fire.
And I, the King who made the law, say fire!
What have I done what folly have I said,
Since I came here, of dreaming? Dreaming? Ha!
I wonder if the Queen and Lancelot
Are dreaming! . . . Lancelot! Have they found him yet?
He slashed a way into the outer night
Somewhere with Bors. We'll have him here anon,
And we shall feed him also to the fire.
There are too many faggots lying cold
That might as well be cleansing, for our good,
A few deferred infections of our state
That honor should no longer look upon.
Thank heaven, I man my drifting wits again!
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