[Pg 2]

And worship manhood’s beauty freed from sin.

Such dreams have haunted me from my first youth,

In fitful slumbers or long marching hours.

These lonesome lofty vigils of the heart

Have made men deem me colder. ’Tis my sin!

Oh Launcelot I am blacker than thou knowest!

[Exit Launcelot.

Launcelot

Enter Hermit.

Hermit

Hermit. And comest thou, my son, for Church’s grace?

Arthur. I come here, Father, for to have me shrived.

[Kneels.

Hermit. Then thou art shriven, such a noble face

Could never harbor evil in its grace.

[Lifts his hands in blessing.

Arthur. Stay holy Hermit, fair trees rot at heart,

And I am evil if this world holds ill.

I would lay bare my soul of its foul sin,

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