THE DREAM OF WESTERN SHU A Shakespearean Tragedy Dramatis Personae SIR LANCELOT DU LAC, the greatest knight of Arthur's Round Table SIR GAWAIN, nephew to King Arthur, knight of the Sun AUGUSTUS, their sworn brother and fellow knight KING ARTHUR, lord of Camelot (mentioned, deceased) MORDRED, the traitor who slew Arthur (mentioned, deceased) SIR BEDIVERE, the last knight of the Round Table THE SEER, an ancient prophetess LORD DARKMOOR, a treacherous northern lord SIR PERCIVAL, a young knight SIR GALAHAD, son of Lancelot (mentioned) THE GHOST OF ARTHUR THE GHOST OF MORDRED CHORUS, soldiers, attendants, messengers ACT I The Dream Vision and Premonition of Death SCENE I The Ruins of Camelot. Midnight. Enter CHORUS CHORUS When Arthur fell upon the bloody field Of Camlann, and the Round Table broke Like shattered glass beneath the traitor's hand, Two knights alone survived that fatal day— Lancelot, fairest of all living men, And Gawain, he whose strength did match the sun. They fled the wreck of that once-glorious realm To western lands where mist and legend dwell, Yet Fate, that cruel weaver of men's ends, Hath spun a darker thread for these great souls. This night, beneath the ruins of their king, They shall behold a vision of their doom, And choose, like heroes of the ancient world, To meet their deaths with honor, not with flight. Attend, you lords and ladies of the earth, And weep to see such greatness brought to dust. Exit CHORUS SCEN0E II A crumbling hall within Camelot. Enter SIR LANCELOT and SIR GAWAIN. LANCELOT The wind doth howl like Arthur's dying groan Through these cold halls where once the candlelight Did dance upon a thousand shields of gold. Now naught but shadows keep me company, And thou, good Gawain, last of all my friends. GAWAIN Good Lancelot, my brother in despair, How many nights have we sat thus alone, Counting the stones that fall from yonder wall As if they were the minutes of our lives? The world hath ended. Camelot is dust. And we, like ghosts who know not they are dead, Do wander through a kingdom of decay. LANCELOT Yet I have heard a whisper on the wind— A voice that speaks of vengeance to be had, Of traitors yet unpunished for their crimes. Mordred is dead, but those who served his will Do still draw breath in northern fortresses. GAWAIN What use is vengeance to the dead, my friend? Arthur is gone. The Round Table is no more. Our fellowship is scattered to the winds, And I have grown too weary of this world To seek the blood of men I never knew. LANCELOT Then thou art changed indeed, my Gawain. Once thou wouldst ride through fire for a cause, And now thou speak'st like some old hermit sage Who hath forgotten what it means to feel. GAWAIN I have felt too much, Lancelot. That is the wound That will not heal, though all the leeches come. I saw my uncle fall. I saw the light Go out of eyes that once did shame the sun. And in that moment, something broke in me That shall not mend while breath remains in this poor frame. They sit in silence. A strange wind rises. The torches flicker LANCELOT Dost thou feel that? The very air doth tremble As if the world were holding its own breath. GAWAIN I feel a coldness at my heart, as if Some hand of ice had touched me through the dark. Enter THE SEER, an ancient woman in robes of grey SEER Hail, knights of the broken Table! Hail, ye last Of that great fellowship whose fame did reach To farthest Ind and the cold shores of Thule! I come with tidings from the other side, From that dark kingdom where all flesh must dwell When the brief candle of this life burns out. LANCELOT Who art thou, ancient mother, that dost speak With such authority of hidden things? SEER I am the Seer, she who walks between The world of waking and the world of sleep. I have beheld the thread of your destinies, And I have seen the shears that wait to cut. GAWAIN Speak, then, if thou hast words we need to hear. I am past fear, old woman. Nothing thou canst say Shall make this night more dark than it already is. SEER Brave Gawain, son of Lot, hear now thy fate! This very night, as thou dost slumber here Within these ruins of thy former glory, Thy soul shall walk in dreams to a far shore Where stands a castle black as any pitch, And there thou shalt behold thy death made plain. GAWAIN My death? What nonsense is this witchcraft, crone? SEER Not witchcraft, knight, but prophecy most true. And thou, Lancelot, fairest of the fair, Thy dream shall match thy brother's, for your fates Are woven in one tapestry of doom. Ye both shall see the manner of your ends, And ye shall wake with knowledge of the grave. LANCELOT If this be so—if we must die—then tell us: Can we avoid this fate by strength of arms Or by some cunning flight to distant lands? SEER Fate is not fate if it may be avoided. What I have seen shall come to pass, brave knights, Unless ye choose to die before your time By your own hands, which would be greater shame Than any death that enemies could devise. But hear this, and let it burn within your hearts: The manner of your dying is your own. Ye may go whimpering like frightened dogs, Or ye may face the end with lion hearts, And in that choice lies all the difference Between the common man and the true knight. GAWAIN We are no common men, old mother. If death must come, then let it find us ready. SEER So speaks the Gawain that I knew of old! But words are wind, and sleep is near at hand. When ye have seen what ye shall see this night, Then speak of readiness, and I shall hear. Exit THE SEER. A sudden drowsiness falls upon the knights LANCELOT My eyes grow heavy, Gawain. I could sleep Though all the trumpets of the judgment blew. GAWAIN And I as well. This witch hath cast a spell Upon our senses. Let us rest awhile, And if we dream, we dream. What harm is there In visions of the night? They are but smoke. LANCELOT Yet if she spoke the truth... GAWAIN If she spoke truth, Then we shall know it in the morning light. Sleep now, my friend. Tomorrow brings what it may bring. They lie down and sleep. The stage darkens. A strange music plays SCENE III The Dream. A shadowy landscape of mist and moonlight. Enter the GHOST OF ARTHUR, in full armor but pale as death GHOST OF ARTHUR Lancelot! Gawain! Awake within your sleep! Hear me, my knights, my brothers, my lost sons! I am but shadow now, a breath of air, Yet I have power still to warn the living Of dangers that approach with silent feet. Enter LANCELOT and GAWAIN, as spirits in the dream LANCELOT (in dream) My king! My lord! Is this thy ghost I see, Or is my sleeping mind deceived by grief? GHOST OF ARTHUR It is thy king, though king of naught but dust. I come to tell thee of thy coming fate, Lancelot, and to give thee this one gift: The knowledge of thy death, that thou mayst meet it With all the courage that I know thou hast. GAWAIN (in dream) Speak, uncle. We are ready to receive Whatever doom thou seest hanging o'er our heads. GHOST OF ARTHUR Then see, brave nephews, see the vision clear! A vision appears: A great battle on a field of snow. LANCELOT fights alone against many foes GHOST OF ARTHUR Behold, Lancelot, thy final battlefield! Upon the moors of Darkmoor shall thou stand, Surrounded by a host of treacherous men Who seek thy life to pay for ancient wrongs. Thy sword shall drink the blood of twenty foes, And twenty more shall fall before thy wrath, But in the end, the numbers are too great. A spear shall find the one unguarded place Beneath thy arm, and thou shalt fall, my knight, Not in defeat, but in a glory bright As any star that ever burned in heaven. LANCELOT (in dream) So be it. I shall fall as I have lived— With sword in hand and honor in my heart. But tell me, lord, what of my brother here? What fate awaits the noble Gawain? GHOST OF ARTHUR Behold, and see! The vision changes: GAWAIN rides alone through a forest, ambushed by archers GHOST OF ARTHUR Three days after thy death, good Gawain shall ride To seek thy body and to give thee burial. But in the forest of Weeping Willows, Ambush waits with arrows made of yew. Ten shafts shall find their mark in that strong breast, And Gawain shall fall from his great horse, Calling thy name, Lancelot, as he dies. GAWAIN (in dream) Then we shall die within a breath of each other, Like brothers who will not be parted even By the cold hand of death itself. GHOST OF ARTHUR Even so. And yet I bring this comfort, knights: Your names shall live when all your foes are dust. The bards shall sing of Lancelot's last stand Until the very stars forget to shine, And Gawain's courage shall be taught to children When Camelot itself is but a myth. This is the immortality of honor, The only life that outlives flesh and bone. LANCELOT (in dream) I thank thee, lord, for this foreknowledge. Better to know the manner of one's end Than to be taken like a beast surprised. GAWAIN (in dream) And I thank thee as well, dear uncle. We shall not fail thee in the test to come. GHOST OF ARTHUR I know ye shall not. Now wake, and remember! Wake, and be strong! Wake, and prepare thy souls! The GHOST vanishes. The vision fades. LANCELOT and GAWAIN wake with a cry SCENE IV The ruins of Camelot. Dawn breaks. LANCELOT and GAWAIN sit up, looking at each other with wonder LANCELOT Thou hast seen it too? GAWAIN I have seen. I have heard. I know. LANCELOT Then it was not a dream born of our grief, But a true vision sent from Arthur's ghost. We are to die, my brother. This is certain. GAWAIN This is certain. And yet, Lancelot, hear me: I feel no fear. Strange as it is to say, The knowledge of my death hath set me free. No longer do I dread the morrow's dangers, For I have seen the end, and it is good. LANCELOT I feel the same. It is as if a weight I did not know I carried had been lifted. We have been given the greatest gift a knight May hope to have: the chance to choose our deaths. GAWAIN And we shall choose most nobly, shall we not? We shall not hide like craven men in holes, Nor shall we flee to distant lands to gain A few more years of unremembered life. LANCELOT Never! I shall ride to Darkmoor's field And meet the fate that waits me there with joy. If I must die, then let me die in battle, With mine good sword Excalibur's twin— For I bear still the blade thou gavest me, Gawain, that day when we were brothers sworn. GAWAIN And I shall ride with thee, though it be known That death waits in the willows for me too. Three days, the ghost did say. Three days between Thy fall and mine. I shall not waste those days In weeping or in vain attempts to flee. I shall stand by thee while thou fight'st thy battle, And if I fall defending thee, so be it. LANCELOT Nay, brother, hear me. Thou shalt not come To Darkmoor's field. If I must die alone, Then let me die alone, that thou mayst live Those three days more and set our affairs in order. GAWAIN What affairs? What business have the dead? LANCELOT The business of the living, Gawain. Listen: There is young Augustus, our sworn brother, Who knows not yet of these dark prophecies. He must be told. He must be made to understand That when we fall, the last of Arthur's knights Will have departed from this sorry world, And he alone must carry on our memory. GAWAIN Augustus... yes, thou speakest true. He is a good knight, though untested yet In the great trials that make or break a man. He must be told. He must be prepared. LANCELOT Then here is what we shall do: Thou shalt ride north to find Augustus Where he doth keep his vigil by the lake, And tell him all that we have seen this night. I shall remain, and make my preparations, And when the time is come, I shall ride forth To meet my destiny upon Darkmoor's field. GAWAIN And I? What shall I do when thou art fallen? LANCELOT Thou shalt do what thou must, brother. If the vision spoke true, thou canst not flee Thy fate in the willows. But if there be A chance—however small—that thou mayst live, Then take it, for the world hath need of knights Who remember what we stood for, what we died for. GAWAIN I make no promises, Lancelot. If I can live with honor, I shall live. But if I must die to keep my honor whole, Then death will find me ready, as it found thee. LANCELOT So be it. Let us embrace, my brother, For this may be the last time in this life That we shall look upon each other's faces. They embrace GAWAIN Farewell, Lancelot. May the God who watches o'er The souls of brave men guide thy sword arm When the day of battle comes. LANCELOT And may He guide thee too, good Gawain, Whether thy path leads through the willows dark Or to some distant shore where thou mayst live To tell our story to unborn generations. Exit GAWAIN. LANCELOT stands alone, looking at the rising sun LANCELOT To die, to sleep—no more. And by a sleep to say we end The heartache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. But what of honor? What of the name that outlives this poor clay? To die in bed, forgotten and unmourned, Or to die standing, with a sword in hand, And leave a legend that shall never die— This is the choice, and I have made it now. Let Darkmoor come with all his treacherous host! I am Lancelot, and I do not fear the dark. Exit LANCELOT ACT II The Choice to Face Destiny SCENE I The shores of the Lake. Enter GAWAIN and AUGUSTUS. AUGUSTUS Gawain! My brother! What wind blows thee here To this forgotten corner of the world? I had not thought to see thy face again Since Camelot fell and we were scattered. GAWAIN A wind of ill omen, Augustus. A wind that bears The scent of graves and the whisper of the tomb. I come with tidings that will shake thy soul, And I know not how to speak them gently. AUGUSTUS Speak them however they must be spoken. I am a knight, Gawain. I can bear bad news. GAWAIN Then hear me well, for I shall speak but once: Lancelot is to die. I am to die. We have seen it in a vision sent by Arthur's ghost. AUGUSTUS (staggering) What madness is this? Lancelot die? And thou? The two greatest knights that ever drew a breath? It cannot be! Some evil spirit hath Deceived thy senses, Gawain. Cast off this dream! GAWAIN Would that I could, dear brother. Would that I could. But I saw what I saw, and Lancelot saw the same. We beheld the very manner of our deaths, And we beheld them clear as I behold thee now. AUGUSTUS Then flee! Ride to the ends of the earth! Go where this prophecy cannot find thee! GAWAIN And be what? A coward who outlived his honor? Nay, Augustus. That is not the knight's way. We have chosen to meet our fates as men, Not to slink away like frightened beasts. AUGUSTUS But why? Why must thou die? What crime have ye committed That calls for such a punishment? GAWAIN No crime, Augustus. Only the crime of being What we are: the last of Arthur's fellowship. The world hath changed. The age of chivalry Doth fade like morning mist before the sun. New powers rise, and they have no place for knights Who speak of honor in a world of gold. AUGUSTUS Then let them rise! I shall fight them all! I shall stand by Lancelot's side at Darkmoor, And I shall stand by thine in the willows! GAWAIN Nay, brother. That thou shalt not do. We have sworn that thou shalt not come to Darkmoor. Lancelot must face his fate alone, as must I. But thou—thou hast a different duty now. AUGUSTUS What duty? To stand by and watch my brothers die? GAWAIN To live, Augustus. To live and to remember. When we are gone, thou shalt be the last Of all who sat at Arthur's glorious Table. The last keeper of the flame of chivalry. It falls to thee to tell our story, To sing our songs, to teach the world What we believed, what we fought for, what we died for. AUGUSTUS I want no such duty! I would rather die With honor in the field than live a thousand years As the last relic of a forgotten age! GAWAIN And yet that is the duty laid upon thee. We have no choice in this, Augustus. The vision spoke not of thy death, but of thy life. Thou art to be the survivor, the witness, The one who carries on when all are fallen. AUGUSTUS (weeping) Then I curse this vision! I curse this duty! Better to be the dead than the survivor! Better to fall in battle than to live With the memory of brothers lost! GAWAIN (embracing him) I know, my brother. I know. And yet This is the burden thou must bear. We do not choose our fates. We only choose How we shall meet them. Lancelot and I Have chosen to meet ours with swords in hand. Thou must choose to meet thine with open heart, Ready to receive the grief that comes And turn it into something lasting, Something that shall outlive stone and steel. AUGUSTUS How can I do this? How can I watch thee die And then go on as if the world were still A place worth living in? GAWAIN Thou shalt find the way. I have faith in thee. Thou art a knight of Arthur's Table, Augustus, And that means thou hast strength thou knowest not. When the time comes, that strength will rise To meet the need, as it always does for those Who serve the cause of honor and of right. AUGUSTUS And when shall this be? When must I say farewell? GAWAIN Lancelot rides to Darkmoor in three days. I shall follow after, to bear witness To his final battle and to give him burial. After that... the willows wait for me. AUGUSTUS Three days... so little time... GAWAIN Enough for those who know how to use it. Come, brother. Let us not waste these hours In weeping and in vain laments. Let us ride together, thou and I, And speak of all the glorious days gone by, Of Arthur and his court, of quests and tournaments, Of all that was and never shall be again. AUGUSTUS I shall remember every word, Gawain. I shall etch them in my heart with letters of fire. GAWAIN That is all I ask. Now come. The sun is high, And we have miles to ride before we rest. Exeunt SCENE II The camp of LORD DARKMOOR. Enter LORD DARKMOOR and his captains. DARKMOOR So Lancelot comes? The great Lancelot himself? CAPTAIN He comes, my lord. Our spies have seen him Making his preparations at Camelot. He rides alone, as if he sought his death. DARKMOOR Perhaps he does. The fall of Arthur's realm Hath broken something in that mighty heart. He was ever one to love too well, And guilt hath eaten at his soul these many years. First for the queen, then for the king's death— He blames himself for all of it, they say. CAPTAIN Then he will be easy prey, my lord. DARKMOOR Do not be foolish! Lancelot is never easy prey. Even broken, even seeking death, He is still the greatest knight that ever lived. We shall need every man we have, And even then, we shall lose many. But the prize is worth the price. CAPTAIN What prize, my lord? The head of Lancelot? DARKMOOR More than that. The end of an age. When Lancelot falls, the last light of Camelot Goes out forever. The old ways die with him, And the new ways—my ways—shall rise in their place. No more of this nonsense about honor and chivalry. No more knights riding about the countryside Interfering in the business of their betters. Power, captain. That is what matters. Power, And the will to use it without sentiment. CAPTAIN And Gawain? Will he come as well? DARKMOOR Gawain will come, but not to fight. He comes to bear witness, to give burial. He will not interfere. The vision he received Hath told him of his own approaching end. He will be too busy with his own fate To trouble himself with Lancelot's battle. CAPTAIN How know you of this vision, my lord? DARKMOOR I have my sources, captain. The Seer who told them Told me as well. I know all that they know, And I have used that knowledge to prepare A welcome worthy of the great Lancelot. CAPTAIN And Gawain's death? Is that also arranged? DARKMOOR smiles DARKMOOR The willows wait for him, captain. The willows wait. Exeunt SCENE III The road to Darkmoor. Enter LANCELOT, alone. LANCELOT Three days have passed since I beheld the vision, And now I ride to meet my destiny. The road is long, the wind is cold, And yet my heart is strangely light. I have said my farewells. I have set my house in order. There is nothing left but the doing of the thing. I wonder if Guinevere waits for me In that far country where the dead do dwell. I wonder if Arthur hath forgiven me For all the sorrow that my love did cause. I shall know soon enough, I suppose. The dead keep their own counsel, And soon I shall be one of them. But oh, the sun is bright this morning! The grass is green, the birds do sing, And I am still alive to see it all. Is this not strange? That a man riding to his death Should find such beauty in the world he's leaving? Perhaps that is the gift of foreknowledge— To make each moment precious, each sight a treasure, Each breath a miracle to be savored. I have lived more in these three days Than in all the years that went before. And there is Darkmoor. The field of my ending. I can see them gathering even now— A hundred men, perhaps more, waiting for me. Darkmoor thinks to overwhelm me with numbers, But he does not know what a man can do When he has nothing left to lose. Old friend, we have been through much together. Now we face our greatest battle, our last battle. Let us make it one that bards shall sing of Till the end of time itself. He rides down toward the field ACT III The Deaths of Lancelot and Gawain SCENE I The Field of Darkmoor. Enter LANCELOT. LANCELOT rides onto the field. Before him waits an army of men LANCELOT Hail, Lord Darkmoor! I am come as promised! DARKMOOR (from among his men) Promised? We had no promise, Lancelot. Only the certainty that thou wouldst come. Thy pride would allow no less. LANCELOT Call it what thou wilt. I am here. Let us get on with it, Darkmoor. I have other appointments to keep this day. DARKMOOR So confident, even in the face of death? LANCELOT I am confident of nothing but my sword. But that, my lord, is confidence enough. DARKMOOR Very well. Men—attack! The battle begins. LANCELOT fights with superhuman skill, cutting down man after man LANCELOT (fighting) Come one, come all! I am Lancelot! I have faced worse odds than these and lived! I have fought the Questing Beast! I have jousted with the devil himself! What are you, compared to such as they? One! Two! Three! Count with me, Darkmoor! Count the cost of thy ambition! I am the storm! I am the lightning! I am the wrath of all the fallen knights Of Arthur's Table, come to claim their due! He fights on, but the numbers begin to tell. He is wounded LANCELOT Ah! A scratch! Thou hast drawn blood, good fellow! 'Tis more than most can boast! I feel... the weight of years upon me... The wounds of old campaigns... They all come back to haunt me now... He is wounded again LANCELOT But I am not done yet! Not yet! He kills several more men, but is clearly weakening LANCELOT Where... where is Darkmoor? Let me... let me look upon the face Of the man who thinks to end my legend... DARKMOOR comes forward DARKMOOR I am here, Lancelot. I am here to see thee fall. LANCELOT Then come closer, coward! Come and face me! Or art thou only brave when others bleed for thee? DARKMOOR I need not face thee. I have men enough To do what I require. Archers! Archers appear and take aim LANCELOT So... the spear... the vision spoke of a spear... But it seems... the vision was not complete... The archers fire. LANCELOT is struck by multiple arrows LANCELOT Ah! So... this is how it ends... Not with a spear... but with arrows... Like a common deer... hunted in the forest... But I... I am still... Lancelot... And I die... as I lived... With... honor... He falls. Darkness SCENE II The forest of Weeping Willows. Enter GAWAIN. GAWAIN Three days have passed since Lancelot rode to Darkmoor, And I have heard no word of him since then. I know in my heart that he is fallen, For the vision spoke true in all things else. And yet I hope... I hope against all hope... That somehow he survived, somehow he won... But these willows know the truth. They weep for Lancelot, as they shall weep for me. I can feel it in the air—this place is cursed. The vision spoke of ambush here, And I can sense the eyes that watch me now. He draws his sword GAWAIN Come out, then! Come out and face me! I am Gawain, nephew to King Arthur! I do not fear your arrows or your spears! There is silence. Then, suddenly, arrows fly from all directions GAWAIN (fighting) So! The cowards strike from hiding! Typical of Darkmoor's kind! They have not the stomach for fair fight! He deflects several arrows, but one finds its mark GAWAIN Ah! A hit! Well struck, hidden archer! But I am not done yet! More arrows come. He is struck again, and again GAWAIN I... I feel the cold... the cold of death... Lancelot... brother... I come to join thee... He falls to his knees GAWAIN Tell me, shadows... was it Darkmoor... who ordered this? VOICE FROM THE SHADOWS It was, Lord Gawain. He would have all of Arthur's knights Dead and forgotten. GAWAIN (laughing weakly) He... he shall not succeed... For there is one... one knight remains... Augustus... shall remember... Augustus... shall avenge... He falls, dead Enter the GHOST OF MORDRED, invisible to the living GHOST OF MORDRED So falls the house of Arthur, piece by piece. I slew the king, and now my servant Darkmoor Hath slain the last of his great knights. All that I began at Camlann is complete. The age of chivalry is dead, And the age of Mordred hath begun. He laughs, a terrible sound GHOST OF MORDRED But what is this? The vision spoke of three, And I see only two. Where is the third? Where is this Augustus who would remember? Who would avenge? He must be found! He must be destroyed! Exit GHOST OF MORDRED SCENE III The shores of the Lake. Enter AUGUSTUS. AUGUSTUS They are gone. Both gone. The messengers have come With tidings of the deaths of both my brothers. Lancelot fell upon Darkmoor's field, Surrounded by a host, fighting to the last. Gawain fell three days later in the willows, Ambushed by the arrows of the traitor's men. And I... I live. I, who would have died with them, Am left alone in this empty world. Oh, Lancelot! Oh, Gawain! My brothers! Why have you left me here to bear this grief? Why must I be the one to survive? He looks up, his face hardening AUGUSTUS But survive I must, and more than survive. I must avenge. The vision gave me this duty, Though I did not understand it then. I am to be the avenger, the one Who brings Darkmoor to justice for his crimes. Hear me, all ye powers that watch o'er men! Hear me, Arthur, if thy ghost can hear! I, Augustus, last of all thy knights, Do swear upon my sword and on my soul That I shall not rest until Darkmoor pays In blood for blood, in death for death! I shall hunt him to the ends of the earth, To the gates of hell itself if need be, And I shall bring him down, though I die in the doing! Thunder rolls in the distance AUGUSTUS So be it. The oath is sworn. Now to work. I must gather men, prepare for war. Darkmoor is powerful, and I am alone. But I have right on my side, and that Hath ever been the strongest weapon In the arsenal of the true knight. Exit AUGUSTUS ACT IV Augustus's Vow of Vengeance SCENE I The castle of LORD DARKMOOR, one year later. Enter LORD DARKMOOR and his CAPTAIN DARKMOOR A year hath passed since Lancelot fell, And still this Augustus dogs my steps. I had thought him easily dealt with— A young knight, untested, alone in the world. But he hath proven more resourceful than I guessed. CAPTAIN He hath become a legend, my lord. The common people call him the Avenger. They hide him, feed him, give him shelter. He moves like a ghost through the countryside, Striking at your outposts, then vanishing. DARKMOOR He must be stopped. I grow weary of this game. CAPTAIN We have tried, my lord. We have hunted him With dogs, with men, with every means at our disposal. But he knows the land better than we do, And he hath the favor of the people. DARKMOOR Then we must change our tactics. If we cannot find him, we must make him come to us. CAPTAIN How, my lord? DARKMOOR He seeks vengeance for Lancelot and Gawain, does he not? Then let us give him what he seeks— Or rather, let us make him think we have. CAPTAIN I do not understand. DARKMOOR We shall spread word that I ride north To inspect my borders, with only a small guard. We shall make it known that this is the chance He hath been waiting for—the chance to catch me alone. CAPTAIN But my lord, that would be dangerous! DARKMOOR Dangerous for him, captain. For I shall not be alone. I shall have an army hidden in the hills, Ready to fall upon him when he shows himself. CAPTAIN And if he does not come? DARKMOOR He will come. I know his kind. These knights of the old order, they are all the same. Honor, duty, vengeance—they cannot resist. He will come, and he will die, And the last of Arthur's brood shall be no more. Exeunt SCENE II A secret camp in the hills. Enter AUGUSTUS and SIR BEDIVERE. BEDIVERE Thou canst not go, Augustus. It is a trap. AUGUSTUS I know it is a trap, Bedivere. But what choice have I? This is the chance I have waited for, prayed for, these twelve months. BEDIVERE A false chance. Darkmoor means to lure thee to thy death. AUGUSTUS Perhaps. But I have learned much in this year Of hiding and of striking from the shadows. I know how to spot an ambush. I know how to turn a trap upon its maker. BEDIVERE Thou art overconfident, young knight. Darkmoor is cunning. He hath destroyed Better men than thee with his schemes. AUGUSTUS I do not claim to be better than Lancelot or Gawain. But I am the only one left, Bedivere. The only one who can avenge them. If I do not do this, who will? BEDIVERE Perhaps no one. Perhaps that is the way of things. The old order passes. The new order comes. We cannot stop the turning of the world. AUGUSTUS I can stop Darkmoor. I know I can. And even if I die in the attempt, At least I shall have died trying. Better that than to live out my days In hiding, knowing that I failed my brothers. BEDIVERE And what of the vision? What of Gawain's charge That thou shouldst live to remember, to tell the tale? AUGUSTUS I have remembered. I have told the tale To every village, every hearth, every ear that would listen. Lancelot and Gawain are legends now, Thanks to my words. Their memory is safe. Now I must do what I was truly meant to do— Avenge them, or die in the attempt. BEDIVERE Thou art resolved, then? AUGUSTUS I am resolved. BEDIVERE Then I shall come with thee. AUGUSTUS Nay, old friend. This is my battle. Thou hast done enough, more than enough. Thou didst stay with Arthur to the end, Thou didst return Excalibur to the lake. Thy duty is done. Go now, and live in peace. BEDIVERE There is no peace for the last of Arthur's knights. Only the hope of a good death. Let me share that hope with thee, Augustus. Let me stand by thy side one final time. AUGUSTUS (embracing him) Thou art a true friend, Bedivere. Very well. If we must die, let us die together, Like the brothers we have become. Exeunt SCENE III The northern road. Enter AUGUSTUS and BEDIVERE, hiding. AUGUSTUS (whispering) There he is. Darkmoor himself. Just as the message said—riding with only a dozen men. BEDIVERE (whispering) It is too easy. I like it not. AUGUSTUS I like it not either. But see— The hills on either side. Perfect for an ambush. If we strike quickly, before he reaches them... BEDIVERE And if we fail? AUGUSTUS Then we fail. But we must try. They ride out, charging toward DARKMOOR AUGUSTUS Darkmoor! Traitor! Murderer! I am Augustus, and I come for thee! DARKMOOR (calmly) So the rabbit comes to the snare at last. Men—now! Suddenly, hundreds of soldiers appear from the hills, surrounding AUGUSTUS and BEDIVERE AUGUSTUS A trap! As we suspected! BEDIVERE We are surrounded! There are too many! AUGUSTUS Then we shall die as Lancelot died— Fighting to the last! Come, Bedivere! Let us show these dogs what Arthur's knights are made of! They fight bravely, but are quickly overwhelmed DARKMOOR (watching) They fight well. Better than I expected. But it avails them nothing. He signals to his archers DARKMOOR Finish it. Arrows fly. BEDIVERE falls BEDIVERE Augustus... I am slain... forgive me... AUGUSTUS Bedivere! No! He fights on, but is wounded AUGUSTUS I... I cannot... there are too many... Lancelot... Gawain... I have failed thee... He falls DARKMOOR approaches DARKMOOR So ends the last of Arthur's knights. The age of chivalry is truly dead. He looks down at AUGUSTUS DARKMOOR Thou didst fight well, young knight. Better than thy master Lancelot, I think. He had the advantage of legend on his side. Thou hadst only thy skill and thy courage. AUGUSTUS (weakly) Kill me... and be done with it... DARKMOOR Oh, I shall kill thee. But not yet. First, I want thee to know that thou hast failed. Failed to avenge thy brothers. Failed to stop me. Failed to preserve the memory of Arthur. I shall erase thee from history, Augustus. Thou shalt be forgotten, as they shall be forgotten. AUGUSTUS No... we shall not be forgotten... The people... remember... DARKMOOR The people remember what I tell them to remember. And I tell them that Arthur was a tyrant, That his knights were brigands and fools, That the age of chivalry was an age of darkness. And they believe me, Augustus. They believe me. AUGUSTUS Then... they are fools... And thou... thou art the greatest fool of all... For thou canst kill the body... but not the spirit... Arthur's dream... shall live on... In the hearts... of those who know the truth... DARKMOOR The truth? The truth is what the powerful say it is. And I am powerful, Augustus. More powerful than thou canst know. He raises his sword DARKMOOR Now die, and be forgotten. He strikes. Darkness ACT V The Failed Revenge and Tragic Conclusion SCENE I The Dream Realm. A place of mist and starlight. Enter the GHOSTS OF LANCELOT and GAWAIN LANCELOT So he is come at last, our brother Augustus. We have waited long for him in this shadow land. GAWAIN Too long. I had hoped he might escape our fate, Might live to carry on the flame we lit. LANCELOT We all hoped, Gawain. But hope is for the living. We are beyond hope now. We are beyond all things But memory and the waiting for the end of time. GAWAIN Yet he comes with honor, does he not? He died trying to avenge us. LANCELOT He did. And in that, he proved himself A true knight of the Round Table. But in failing, he proved something else as well— That the age we represented is truly past. GAWAIN Then all was for nothing? All our struggles, All our battles, all our sacrifices? LANCELOT Not for nothing, brother. Never for nothing. We lived as knights should live. We died as knights should die. And in that living and that dying, We created something that cannot be destroyed— An ideal. A dream of what men might become If they would only reach for something higher. GAWAIN An ideal... yes... I see it now... Darkmoor can kill the body, but not the dream. He can erase the name, but not the meaning. LANCELOT Exactly so. And somewhere, in some future age, Men shall remember us. Not as we were, But as we aspired to be. And in that memory, We shall live forever. Enter the GHOST OF AUGUSTUS AUGUSTUS Brothers! I have found thee at last! GAWAIN Augustus! Welcome, dear brother, welcome! LANCELOT Thou didst well, Augustus. Thou didst all that could be done. AUGUSTUS I failed. Darkmoor lives. The memory of Arthur dies. LANCELOT Nay, brother. Look. He gestures, and a vision appears: A distant future, where bards sing of Arthur and his knights LANCELOT A thousand years from now, men shall still speak of Camelot. They shall still tell the tale of Lancelot and Gawain, Of the Round Table and the quest for the Grail. And thou, Augustus, shalt be remembered too— As the last knight, the one who would not yield, Who fought to the end for what he believed. AUGUSTUS Can this be true? GAWAIN It is true. The dream outlives the dreamer. The ideal outlives the age that gave it birth. We are gone, but what we stood for remains. AUGUSTUS Then I am content. I can rest. LANCELOT Rest, brother. We all shall rest together, Here in this shadow land, until the end of days. And when the final trumpet sounds, We shall rise together, all of Arthur's knights, And ride once more beneath the banner of the Pendragon. GAWAIN Together. As it was meant to be. They join hands AUGUSTUS I have one question, brothers, before I rest. Darkmoor—what of him? Does he triumph? Does he rule forever in the world of the living? LANCELOT Darkmoor? Nay, brother. Look again. The vision changes: Darkmoor, old and alone, hated by all, dies unmourned LANCELOT He wins the world and loses his soul. He gains power and loses love. He lives long, but he lives in fear, And when he dies, none shall weep. His name shall be a curse upon the lips of men, While ours shall be a blessing. AUGUSTUS Then justice is done, after all. Not as we would have done it, but done nonetheless. GAWAIN Justice is always done, in the end. It may take a year, or a hundred years, Or a thousand, but it comes. That is the promise of the universe To those who live with honor. LANCELOT Come, brothers. Let us rest. Our battles are over. Our quests are complete. The dream of Camelot is safe in other hands now— The hands of bards and poets and dreamers Who shall keep it alive until the world is ready For knights to ride again. They walk together into the mist CHORUS (voice only) So ends the tale of Lancelot and Gawain, Of Augustus and the last of Arthur's knights. They died as they lived—with courage in their hearts And honor in their souls. And though the age of chivalry is past, Its memory lives on in every heart That yearns for something nobler than the common way, That believes in the possibility of the good, That strives to be, in some small measure, A knight of the Round Table. Sleep well, brave knights. Your watch is ended. Your legend has begun. The mist closes over them. The stars shine down. The play is ended EPILOGUE Enter the SEER, alone SEER I told them of their fate, and they embraced it. Not as victims embrace the executioner's axe, But as heroes embrace the destiny they have chosen. They could have fled. They could have hidden. They could have lived out their days in shame. But they chose to stand. They chose to fight. They chose to die with their faces to the foe. And in that choosing, they conquered death itself. For what is death to the man who dies for honor? It is not an ending, but a beginning. Not a defeat, but a victory. Not a fall into darkness, but a rise into light. I have walked this earth for a thousand years, And I have seen many men die. But I have seen few die as these men died— With joy in their hearts and songs on their lips, Knowing that they had lived as men should live, And that their names would outlive stone and steel. Go now, all you who hear this tale. Go and live as they lived. Go and face your fate as they faced theirs. For the dream of Camelot is not dead. It lives in you. It lives in all who choose To be knights in a world that has forgotten What knighthood means. The Round Table is broken. But the dream remains. And as long as one heart beats that believes in honor, In courage, in the possibility of the good, Camelot shall never truly fall. Exit SEER