the middle ages is full of such. The
romance writers even reprehended them
sometimes, and "held up for imitation
fairer models of heroic virtue than were to
be found in real life."

The reader may be interested in
comparing the following passage, quoted
verbatim from Malory, with Mr. Tennyson's
version of the same incident. The passage
is that in which Bedwere (Mr. Tennyson's
Bedivere), at the bidding of the dying
Arthur, throws the king's sword, Excalibur,
into the mere, and is one of those in which
the poet has most closely followed Malory's
version. With what amplifications and
differences he has followed it, and how his
creative imagination has conjured up a vivid
and exquisitely picturesque scene from the
quaint and bald simplicity of the old prose
narrative, any one who has our Laureate's
poems at hand may judge for himself.

". . . . Therfore sayd Arthur unto syr
Bedwere, take thou Excalybur my good
swerde, and goo with it to yonder water
syde, and whan thou comest there, I charge
the throwe my swerde in that water, and
come ageyn and telle me what thou there
seest. My lord said Bedwere your
commaundement shal be doon, and lyghtly
brynge you worde ageyn. So syr Bedwere
departed, and by the waye he beheld that
noble swerde, that the pomel and the hafte
was al of precyous stones, and thenne he
sayd to hym self, yf I throwe this rich
swerde in the water therof shal never come
good but harme and losse. And thenne
syr Bedwere hydde excalybur under a tree.
And so as sone as he myght he came ageyn
unto the Kyng and sayd he had ben at the
water and had throwen the swerde in to
the water. What sawe thou there sayd
the Kyng, syr he sayd I sawe no thynge
but wawes and wyndes. That is untrewly
sayd of the, sayd the Kyng. Therefore goo
thou lyghtelye ageyn and do my
commaundemente as thou arte to me leef and
dere spare not but throwe it in. Than syr
Bedwere retorned ageyn and took the
swerde in hys hande and than hym
thought synne and shame to throwe awaye
that nobyl swerde, and so efte he hydde
the swerde and retorned ageyn and tolde
to the Kyng that he had ben at the water
and done his commaundemente. What
sawe thou there said the Kyng. Syr he
sayd I sawe no thynge but the waters
wappe and the wawes wanne. A traytour
vntrewe sayd Kyng Arthur now hast thou
betrayed me twyse. Who wold have wente
(weened? deemed?) that thou that hast
been to me so leef and dere and thou art
named a noble knyghte and wold betraye
me for the richesse of the swerde. But
now goo ageyn lyghtly for thy longe taryeng
putteth me in grete jeopardye of my
lyf. For I have taken colde, and but (unless)
yf thou do now as I byd the, yf ever I
may see the I shal slee the wyth myn owne
handes, for thou woldest for my ryche
swerde see me dede. Then syr Bedwere
departed and wente to the swerde and
lyghtly took hit up, and wente to the water
syde and there he bounde the gyrdyl aboute
the hyltes, and thenne he threwe the swerde
as farre in to the water as he myght, &
there cam an arme and an hande above the
water and mette it, & caught it, and so
shoke it thryse and braundysshed, and
than vanysshed awaye the hande wyth the
swerde in the water."

Now let any one who thinks that our
nineteenth century poet has injured the
simplicity of the original, or who maintains,
as the present writer has heard it
maintained, that he has contributed little or
nothing of his own to these old legends,
compare Mr. Tennyson's version of this
passage.

Sir Bedivere, tempted by the beauty of
the sword, has, instead of obeying the
king's order to throw it into the sea, hidden
it, and returned to Arthur.

Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere:
"Hast thou performed 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 betrayed thy nature and thy name,
Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd
Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight."

And the king sends him a second time.
But again Bedivere cannot make up his
mind to throw away the beautiful and
costly sword. So he

                      Hid Excalibur the second time,
And so strode back slow to the wounded 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,
Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me,
Authority forgets a dying king,
Laid widowed of the power in his eye
That bowed 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 would'st 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,