That rose between the forest and the field.

At times the summit of the high city flash'd;

At times the spires and turrets half-way

down

Prick'd thro' the mist; at times the great

gate shone

Only, that open'd on the field below : Anon, the whole fair city had disappear'd.

Then those who went with Gareth were amazed,

One crying, 'Let us go no further, lord. Here is a city of Enchanters, built

By fairy Kings.' The second echo'd him, 'Lord, we have heard from our wise man at home

To Northward, that this King is not the King,

But only changeling out of Fairyland, Who drave the heathen hence by sorcery And Merlin's glamour.' Then the first again,

'Lord, there is no such city anywhere, But all a vision.'

Gareth answer'd them

With laughter, swearing he had glamour

enow

In his own blood, his princedom, youth

and hopes,.

To plunge old Merlin in the Arabian sea; So push'd them all unwilling toward the gate.

And there was no gate like it under

heaven.

For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined

And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave, The Lady of the Lake stood: all her dress

Wept from her sides as water flowing away;

But like the cross her great and goodly

arms

Stretch'd under all the cornice and

upheld :

And drops of water fell from either hand; And down from one a sword was hung,

from one

A censer, either worn with wind and

storm;

And o'er her breast floated the sacred fish; And in the space to left of her, and right, Were Arthur's wars in weird devices done, New things and old co-twisted, as if Time Were nothing, so inveterately, that men Were giddy gazing there; and over all High on the top were those three Queens,

the friends

Of Arthur, who should help him at his need.

Then those with Gareth for so long a

space

Stared at the figures, that at last it seem'd The dragon-boughts and elvish emblemings

Began to move, seethe, twine and curl:

they call'd

To Gareth, Lord, the gateway is alive.'

And Gareth likewise on them fixt his

eyes

So long, that ev'n to him they seem'd to

move.

Out of the city a blast of music peal'd. Back from the gate started the three, to

whom

From out thereunder came an ancient

man,

Long-bearded, saying, "Who be ye, my sons?'

Then Gareth, 'We be tillers of the soil, Who leaving share in furrow come to see

BB

The glories of our King: but these, my

men,

(Your city moved so weirdly in the mist)
Doubt if the King be King at all, or come
From fairyland; and whether this be built
By magic, and by fairy Kings and
Queens;

Or whether there be any city at all,
Or all a vision: and this music now

Hath scared them both, but tell thou these the truth.'

Then that old Seer made answer playing on him

And saying, 'Son, I have seen the good ship sail

Keel upward and mast downward in the heavens,

And solid turrets topsy-turvy in air :

And here is truth; but an it please thee

not,

Take thou the truth as thou hast told it me.

For truly as thou sayest, a Fairy King And Fairy Queens have built the city, son; They came from out a sacred mountaincleft

Toward the sunrise, each with harp in hand,

And built it to the music of their harps. And as thou sayest it is enchanted, son, For there is nothing in it as it seems Saving the King; tho' some there be that hold

The King a shadow, and the city real : Yet take thou heed of him, for, so thou pass

Beneath this archway, then wilt thou

become

A thrall to his enchantments, for the King Will bind thee by such vows, as is a shame A man should not be bound by, yet the which

No man can keep; but, so thou dread to

swear,

Pass not beneath this gateway, but abide
Without, among the cattle of the field.
For an ye heard a music, like enow
They are building still, seeing the city is
built

To music, therefore never built at all,
And therefore built for ever.'

Gareth spake

Anger'd, 'Old Master, reverence thine

own beard

That looks as white as utter truth, and

seems

Wellnigh as long as thou art statured tall! Why mockest thou the stranger that hath been

To thee fair-spoken?'

But the Seer replied,

'Know ye not then the Riddling of the Bards?

"Confusion, and illusion, and relation,
Elusion, and occasion, and evasion "?
I mock thee not but as thou mockest me,
And all that see thee, for thou art not who
Thou seemest, but I know thee who thou

art.

And now thou goest up to mock the King, Who cannot brook the shadow of any lie.'

Unmockingly the mocker ending here Turn'd to the right, and past along the plain;

Whom Gareth looking after said, 'My

men,

Our one white lie sits like a little ghost Here on the threshold of our enterprise. Let love be blamed for it, not she, nor I: Well, we will make amends.'

With all good cheer