So saying, he stepped down from the ruined shrine, and hastened to the lake to do the king's command. But as he drew forth the beautiful sword, Excalibur, and saw the handle all glittering with diamonds, it seemed too precious to throw away. The longer he looked, the more his eyes were dazzled; and, at last, he decided to leave the sword hidden there among the water-flags.

"So strode he back slow to the wounded king.

Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere:
'Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave?
What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?'
And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:
'I heard the ripple washing in the reeds,
And the wild water lapping on the crag.'

To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale:
Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name,
Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd
Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight:

For surer sign had follow'd, either hand,
Or voice, or else a motion of the mere.
This is a shameful thing for men to lie.

Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again,

"Fealty: fidelity to one's lord.

As thou art lief' and dear, and do the thing

I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word.""

Then went Sir Bedivere the second time; but as he raised the sword aloft, the moon, shining upon it, brought out all the wondrous beauty of the hilt; and as he saw how richly and curiously it was chased, he again shrank from throwing it into the lake.

He thought: "If I allow this splendid blade to perish, what will there be left on the earth to serve as a reminder of the glory of Arthur's reign? Besides, the king is sick now, and knows not what he does. Is it right to obey him if he demand an act unprofitable to himself?"

So, misled by his own conceit, he hid Excalibur a second time, and returned to the king.

"Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily:
'What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?'
And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:

'I heard the water lapping on the crag,

And the long ripple washing in the reeds.'

To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath:

'Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue,

"Lief: beloved.

Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me!

Authority forgets a dying king,

Laid widow'd of the power in his eye

That bow'd the will. I see thee what thou art,

For thou, the latest-left of all my knights,

In whom should meet the offices of all,

Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt;
Either from lust of gold, or like a girl
Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes.

Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice,

And the third time may prosper, get thee hence;
But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur,

I will arise and slay thee with my hands.'
Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran,

And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged
Among the bulrush-beds, and clutch'd the sword,

And strongly wheel'd and threw it. The great brand
Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon,

And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch,

Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock
By night, with noises of the northern sea.
So flash'd and fell the brand Excalibur;
But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,

And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him

Three times, and drew him under in the mere.
And lightly went the other to the King.

Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath:

Now see I by thine eyes that this is done.

Speak out: what is it thou hast heard or seen?'

And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:

Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems
Should blind my purpose, for I never saw,
Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die,

Not tho' I live three lives of mortal men,

So great a miracle as yonder hilt.

Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him;
But when I looked again, behold an arm,
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
That caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him
Three times, and drew him under in the mere.'
And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard:

My end draws nigh: 't is time that I were gone.
Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight;
And bear me to the margin; yet I fear

My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die.'"

So Bedivere placed the dying king upon his broad shoulders, and carried him to the lake, which shone white and beautiful in the moonlight. And lo! there came sailing towards them a dusky barge, whose deck

was covered with stately figures all clothed in black, while there arose a long, low cry of sorrow.

Then murmured Arthur: "Place me in the barge;" and three of the stately forms put forth their hands and took the king and wept.

"Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere:

'Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go?
Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes?
For now I see the true old times are dead,
When every morning brought a noble chance,
And every chance brought out a noble knight.
Such times have been not since the light that led
The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh.

But now the whole ROUND TABLE is dissolved
Which was an image of the mighty world;
And I, the last, go forth companionless,
And the days darken round me, and the years,
Among new men, strange faces, other minds.'
And slowly answered Arthur from the barge:
'The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways,

Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.

Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer