A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Part 3.

by Mark Twain

  CHAPTER XVI

  MORGAN LE FAY

  If knights errant were to be believed, not all castles were desirableplaces to seek hospitality in. As a matter of fact, knights errantwere _not_ persons to be believed--that is, measured by modernstandards of veracity; yet, measured by the standards of their owntime, and scaled accordingly, you got the truth. It was verysimple: you discounted a statement ninety-seven per cent; the restwas fact. Now after making this allowance, the truth remainedthat if I could find out something about a castle before ringingthe door-bell--I mean hailing the warders--it was the sensiblething to do. So I was pleased when I saw in the distance a horsemanmaking the bottom turn of the road that wound down from this castle.

  As we approached each other, I saw that he wore a plumed helmet,and seemed to be otherwise clothed in steel, but bore a curiousaddition also--a stiff square garment like a herald's tabard.However, I had to smile at my own forgetfulness when I got nearerand read this sign on his tabard:

  "Persimmon's Soap -- All the Prime-Donna Use It."

  That was a little idea of my own, and had several wholesome purposesin view toward the civilizing and uplifting of this nation. In thefirst place, it was a furtive, underhand blow at this nonsenseof knight errantry, though nobody suspected that but me. I hadstarted a number of these people out--the bravest knights I couldget--each sandwiched between bulletin-boards bearing one deviceor another, and I judged that by and by when they got to be numerousenough they would begin to look ridiculous; and then, even thesteel-clad ass that _hadn't_ any board would himself begin to lookridiculous because he was out of the fashion.

  Secondly, these missionaries would gradually, and without creatingsuspicion or exciting alarm, introduce a rudimentary cleanlinessamong the nobility, and from them it would work down to the people,if the priests could be kept quiet. This would undermine the Church.I mean would be a step toward that. Next, education--next, freedom--and then she would begin to crumble. It being my conviction thatany Established Church is an established crime, an establishedslave-pen, I had no scruples, but was willing to assail it inany way or with any weapon that promised to hurt it. Why, in myown former day--in remote centuries not yet stirring in the wombof time--there were old Englishmen who imagined that they had beenborn in a free country: a "free" country with the Corporation Actand the Test still in force in it--timbers propped against men'sliberties and dishonored consciences to shore up an EstablishedAnachronism with.

  My missionaries were taught to spell out the gilt signs on theirtabards--the showy gilding was a neat idea, I could have got theking to wear a bulletin-board for the sake of that barbaricsplendor--they were to spell out these signs and then explain tothe lords and ladies what soap was; and if the lords and ladieswere afraid of it, get them to try it on a dog. The missionary'snext move was to get the family together and try it on himself;he was to stop at no experiment, however desperate, that couldconvince the nobility that soap was harmless; if any final doubtremained, he must catch a hermit--the woods were full of them;saints they called themselves, and saints they were believed to be.They were unspeakably holy, and worked miracles, and everybodystood in awe of them. If a hermit could survive a wash, and thatfailed to convince a duke, give him up, let him alone.

  Whenever my missionaries overcame a knight errant on the roadthey washed him, and when he got well they swore him to go andget a bulletin-board and disseminate soap and civilization the restof his days. As a consequence the workers in the field wereincreasing by degrees, and the reform was steadily spreading.My soap factory felt the strain early. At first I had only twohands; but before I had left home I was already employing fifteen,and running night and day; and the atmospheric result was gettingso pronounced that the king went sort of fainting and gaspingaround and said he did not believe he could stand it much longer,and Sir Launcelot got so that he did hardly anything but walk upand down the roof and swear, although I told him it was worse upthere than anywhere else, but he said he wanted plenty of air; andhe was always complaining that a palace was no place for a soapfactory anyway, and said if a man was to start one in his househe would be damned if he wouldn't strangle him. There were ladiespresent, too, but much these people ever cared for that; they wouldswear before children, if the wind was their way when the factorywas going.

  This missionary knight's name was La Cote Male Taile, and he saidthat this castle was the abode of Morgan le Fay, sister ofKing Arthur, and wife of King Uriens, monarch of a realm aboutas big as the District of Columbia--you could stand in the middleof it and throw bricks into the next kingdom. "Kings" and "Kingdoms"were as thick in Britain as they had been in little Palestine inJoshua's time, when people had to sleep with their knees pulled upbecause they couldn't stretch out without a passport.

  La Cote was much depressed, for he had scored here the worstfailure of his campaign. He had not worked off a cake; yet he hadtried all the tricks of the trade, even to the washing of a hermit;but the hermit died. This was, indeed, a bad failure, for thisanimal would now be dubbed a martyr, and would take his placeamong the saints of the Roman calendar. Thus made he his moan,this poor Sir La Cote Male Taile, and sorrowed passing sore. Andso my heart bled for him, and I was moved to comfort and stay him.Wherefore I said:

  "Forbear to grieve, fair knight, for this is not a defeat. We havebrains, you and I; and for such as have brains there are no defeats,but only victories. Observe how we will turn this seeming disasterinto an advertisement; an advertisement for our soap; and thebiggest one, to draw, that was ever thought of; an advertisementthat will transform that Mount Washington defeat into a Matterhornvictory. We will put on your bulletin-board, '_Patronized by theelect_.' How does that strike you?"

  "Verily, it is wonderly bethought!"

  "Well, a body is bound to admit that for just a modest littleone-line ad, it's a corker."

  So the poor colporteur's griefs vanished away. He was a bravefellow, and had done mighty feats of arms in his time. His chiefcelebrity rested upon the events of an excursion like this oneof mine, which he had once made with a damsel named Maledisant,who was as handy with her tongue as was Sandy, though in a differentway, for her tongue churned forth only railings and insult, whereasSandy's music was of a kindlier sort. I knew his story well, and soI knew how to interpret the compassion that was in his face when hebade me farewell. He supposed I was having a bitter hard time of it.

  Sandy and I discussed his story, as we rode along, and she saidthat La Cote's bad luck had begun with the very beginning of thattrip; for the king's fool had overthrown him on the first day,and in such cases it was customary for the girl to desert to theconqueror, but Maledisant didn't do it; and also persisted afterwardin sticking to him, after all his defeats. But, said I, supposethe victor should decline to accept his spoil? She said that thatwouldn't answer--he must. He couldn't decline; it wouldn't beregular. I made a note of that. If Sandy's music got to be tooburdensome, some time, I would let a knight defeat me, on the chancethat she would desert to him.

  In due time we were challenged by the warders, from the castlewalls, and after a parley admitted. I have nothing pleasant totell about that visit. But it was not a disappointment, for I knewMrs. le Fay by reputation, and was not expecting anything pleasant.She was held in awe by the whole realm, for she had made everybodybelieve she was a great sorceress. All her ways were wicked, allher instincts devilish. She was loaded to the eyelids with coldmalice. All her history was black with crime; and among her crimesmurder was common. I was most curious to see her; as curious asI could have been to see Satan. To my surprise she was beautiful;black thoughts had failed to make her expression repulsive, agehad failed to wrinkle her satin skin or mar its bloomy freshness.She could have passed for old Uriens' granddaughter, she couldhave been mistaken for sister to her own son.

  As soon as we were fairly within the castle gates we were orderedinto her presence. King Uriens was there, a kind-faced old manwith a subdued look; and also the son, Sir U
waine le Blanchemains,in whom I was, of course, interested on account of the traditionthat he had once done battle with thirty knights, and also onaccount of his trip with Sir Gawaine and Sir Marhaus, which Sandyhad been aging me with. But Morgan was the main attraction, theconspicuous personality here; she was head chief of this household,that was plain. She caused us to be seated, and then she began,with all manner of pretty graces and graciousnesses, to ask mequestions. Dear me, it was like a bird or a flute, or something,talking. I felt persuaded that this woman must have beenmisrepresented, lied about. She trilled along, and trilled along,and presently a handsome young page, clothed like the rainbow, andas easy and undulatory of movement as a wave, came with somethingon a golden salver, and, kneeling to present it to her, overdidhis graces and lost his balance, and so fell lightly against herknee. She slipped a dirk into him in as matter-of-course a way asanother person would have harpooned a rat!

  Poor child! he slumped to the floor, twisted his silken limbs inone great straining contortion of pain, and was dead. Out of theold king was wrung an involuntary "O-h!" of compassion. The lookhe got, made him cut it suddenly short and not put any more hyphensin it. Sir Uwaine, at a sign from his mother, went to the anteroomand called some servants, and meanwhile madame went rippling sweetlyalong with her talk.

  I saw that she was a good housekeeper, for while she talked shekept a corner of her eye on the servants to see that they madeno balks in handling the body and getting it out; when they camewith fresh clean towels, she sent back for the other kind; andwhen they had finished wiping the floor and were going, she indicateda crimson fleck the size of a tear which their duller eyes hadoverlooked. It was plain to me that La Cote Male Taile had failedto see the mistress of the house. Often, how louder and clearerthan any tongue, does dumb circumstantial evidence speak.

  Morgan le Fay rippled along as musically as ever. Marvelous woman.And what a glance she had: when it fell in reproof upon thoseservants, they shrunk and quailed as timid people do when thelightning flashes out of a cloud. I could have got the habitmyself. It was the same with that poor old Brer Uriens; he wasalways on the ragged edge of apprehension; she could not even turntoward him but he winced.

  In the midst of the talk I let drop a complimentary word aboutKing Arthur, forgetting for the moment how this woman hated herbrother. That one little compliment was enough. She clouded uplike storm; she called for her guards, and said:

  "Hale me these varlets to the dungeons."

  That struck cold on my ears, for her dungeons had a reputation.Nothing occurred to me to say--or do. But not so with Sandy.As the guard laid a hand upon me, she piped up with the tranquilestconfidence, and said:

  "God's wounds, dost thou covet destruction, thou maniac? It isThe Boss!"

  Now what a happy idea that was!--and so simple; yet it would neverhave occurred to me. I was born modest; not all over, but in spots;and this was one of the spots.

  The effect upon madame was electrical. It cleared her countenanceand brought back her smiles and all her persuasive graces andblandishments; but nevertheless she was not able to entirely cover upwith them the fact that she was in a ghastly fright. She said:

  "La, but do list to thine handmaid! as if one gifted with powerslike to mine might say the thing which I have said unto one whohas vanquished Merlin, and not be jesting. By mine enchantmentsI foresaw your coming, and by them I knew you when you enteredhere. I did but play this little jest with hope to surprise youinto some display of your art, as not doubting you would blastthe guards with occult fires, consuming them to ashes on the spot,a marvel much beyond mine own ability, yet one which I have longbeen childishly curious to see."

  The guards were less curious, and got out as soon as they got permission.