LITMIR.BIZ

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years after the coming of the Normans, and although his poem is in the main alliterative, sometimes he has rhyming lines such as "mochel dal heo iwesten: mid harmen pen mesten," that is:—

      "Great part they laid waste:

       With harm the most."

      Sometimes even in translation the rhyme may be kept, as:—

      "And faer forh nu to niht:

       In to Norewaieze forh riht."

      which can be translated:—

      "And fare forth now to-night

       Into Norway forth right."

      At times, too, Layamon has neither rhyme nor alliteration in his lines, sometimes he has both, so that his poem is a link between the old poetry and the new.

      I hope that you are not tired with this long explanation, for I think if you take the trouble to understand it, it may make the rest of this chapter more interesting. Now I will tell you a little more of the poem itself.

      Layamon tells many wonderful stories of Arthur, from the time he was born to his last great battle in which he was killed, fighting against the rebel Modred.

      This is how Layamon tells the story of Arthur's death, or rather of his "passing":

      "Arthur went to Cornwall with a great army.

       Modred heard that and he against him came

       With unnumbered folk. There were many of them fated.

       Upon the Tambre they came together,

       The place was called Camelford, evermore has that name lasted.

       And at Camelford were gathered sixty thousand

       And more thousands thereto. Modred was their chief.

       Then hitherward gan ride Arthur the mighty

       With numberless folk fated though they were.

       Upon the Tambre they came together,

       Drew their long swords, smote on the helmets,

       So that fire sprang forth. Spears were splintered,

       Shields gan shatter, shafts to break.

       They fought all together folk unnumbered.

       Tambre was in flood with unmeasured blood.

       No man in the fight might any warrior know,

       Nor who did worse nor who did better so was the conflict mingled,

       For each slew downright were he swain were he knight.

       There was Modred slain and robbed of his life day.

       In the fight

       There were slain all the brave

       Arthur's warriors noble.

       And the Britons all of Arthur's board,

       And all his lieges of many a kingdom.

       And Arthur sore wounded with war spear broad.

       Fifteen he had fearful wounds.

       One might in the least two gloves thrust.

       Then was there no more in the fight on life

       Of two hundred thousand men that there lay hewed in

       pieces

       But Arthur the king alone, and of his knights twain.

       But Arthur was sore wounded wonderously much.

       Then to him came a knave who was of his kindred.

       He was Cador's son the earl of Cornwall.

       Constantine hight the knave. He was to the king dear.

       Arthur him looked on where he lay on the field,

       And these words said with sorrowful heart.

       Constantine thou art welcome thou wert Cador's son,

       I give thee here my kingdom.

       Guard thou my Britons so long as thou livest,

       And hold them all the laws that have in my days stood

       And all the good laws that in Uther's days stood.

       And I will fare to Avelon to the fairest of all maidens

       To Argente their Queen, an elf very fair,

       And she shall my wounds make all sound

       All whole me make with healing draughts,

       And afterwards I will come again to my kingdom

       And dwell with the Britons with mickle joy.

       Even with the words that came upon the sea

       A short boat sailing, moving amid the waves

       And two women were therein wounderously clad.

       And they took Arthur anon and bare him quickly

       And softly him adown laid and to glide forth gan they.

       Then was it come what Merlin said whilom

       That unmeasured sorrow should be at Arthur's forth faring.

       Britons believe yet that he is still in life

       And dwelleth in Avelon with the fairest of all elves,

       And every Briton looketh still when Arthur shall return.

       Was never the man born nor never the lady chosen

       Who knoweth of the sooth of Arthur to say more.

       But erstwhile there was a wizard Merlin called.

       He boded with words the which were sooth

       That an Arthur should yet come the English to help."

      You see by this last line that Layamon has forgotten the difference between Briton and English. He has forgotten that in his lifetime Arthur fought against the English. To him Arthur has become an English hero. And perhaps he wrote these last words with the hope in his heart that some day some one would arise who would deliver his dear land from the rule of the stranger Normans. This, we know, happened. Not, indeed, by the might of one man, but by the might of the English spirit, the strong spirit which had never died, and which Layamon himself showed was still alive when he wrote his book in English.

Chapter VIII THE BEGINNING OF THE READING TIME

       Table of Contents

      WE are now going on two hundred years to speak of another book about Arthur. This is Morte d'Arthur, by Sir Thomas Malory.

      Up to this time all books had to be written by hand. But in the fifteenth century printing was discovered. This was one of the greatest things which ever happened for literature, for books then became much more plentiful and were not nearly so dear as they had been, and so many more people could afford to buy them. And thus learning spread.

      It is not quite known who first discovered the art of printing, but William Caxton was the first man who set up a printing-press in England. He was an English wool merchant who had gone to live in Bruges, but he was very fond of books, and after a time he gave up his wool business, came back to England, and began to write and print books. One of the first books he printed was Malory's Morte d'Arthur.

      In the preface Caxton tells us how, after he had printed some other books, many gentlemen came to him to ask him why he did not print a history of King Arthur, "which ought most to be remembered among us Englishmen afore all the Christian kings; to whom I answered that diverse men hold opinion that there was no such Arthur, and all such books as be made of him be but fained matters and fables."

      But the gentlemen persuaded Caxton until at last he undertook to "imprint a book of the noble histories of the said King Arthur and of certaine of his knights, after a copy unto me delivered, which copy Sir Thomas Malory tooke out of certaine bookes in the Frenche, and reduced it into English."

      It

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