Excalibur
in British legend, the wonderful sword of King Arthur, whose
Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work
Of subtlest jewelry.
In Malory's History of King Arthur, Excalibur is miraculously imbedded in a rock at the church door. Whoever is able to withdraw it is to be king. Two hundred nobles try to draw out the sword and fail. Arthur, who is but a boy at this time, knows nothing of the matter. He is sent one day by his foster brother to get a sword for his use. Arthur remembers having seen the sword in the stone by the church door, so he rides there to get it, and draws it forth easily. In consequence Arthur is made king. The sword was reputed to have a scabbard belonging to it which would guard its wearer from losing blood. In his Idylls of the King, Tennyson tells another legend--also mentioned in Malory's account--to the effect that the Lady of the Lake gave Arthur the sword. Bellicent, Queen of Orkney, tells Leodogran:--
Before him at his crowning borne, the sword
That rose from out the bosom of the lake,
And Arthur row'd across and took it--rich
With jewels, elfin Urim, on the hilt,
Bewildering heart and eye--the blade so bright
That men are blinded by it--on one side,
Graven in the oldest tongue of all this world,
"Take me," but turn the blade and ye shall see,
And written in the speech ye speak yourself,
"Cast me away!" And sad was Arthur's face
Taking it, but old Merlin counsell'd him,
"Take thou and strike! the time to cast away
Is yet far-off." So this great brand the king
Took, and by this will beat his foemen down.
After he is wounded in the "last great battle of the west," he commands Sir Bedivere to fling the sword into the middle of the lake. Twice Bedivere fails, since the wonder and beauty of the sword impel him to keep it. At the third command he obeys.
And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged
Among the bulrush beds, and clutch'd the sword,
And strongly wheel'd and threw it. The great brand
Made lightnings in the splendour of the moon,
And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch,
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock
By night, with noises of the Northern Sea.
So flash'd and fell the brand Excalibur:
But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,
And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him
Three times, and drew him under in the mere.