Chapter XVI: Morgan le Fay

by Mark Twain

　　If knights errant were to be believed, not all castleswere desirable places to seek hospitality in. As amatter of fact, knights errant were not persons to bebelieved -- that is, measured by modern standards ofveracity; yet, measured by the standards of their owntime, and scaled accordingly, you got the truth. Itwas very simple: you discounted a statement ninetyseven per cent.; the rest was fact. Now after makingthis allowance, the truth remained that if I could findout something about a castle before ringing the doorbell -- I mean hailing the warders -- it was the sensiblething to do. So I was pleased when I saw in the distance a horseman making the bottom turn of the roadthat wound down from this castle.As we approached each other, I saw that he wore aplumed helmet, and seemed to be otherwise clothed insteel, but bore a curious addition also -- a stiff squaregarment like a herald's tabard. However, I had tosmile at my own forgetfulness when I got nearer andread this sign on his tabard:"Persimmon's Soap -- All the Prime-Donna Use It."That was a little idea of my own, and had severalwholesome purposes in view toward the civilizing anduplifting of this nation. In the first place, it was afurtive, underhand blow at this nonsense of knighterrantry, though nobody suspected that but me. Ihad started a number of these people out -- the bravestknights I could get -- each sandwiched between bulletin-boards bearing one device or another, and Ijudged that by and by when they got to be numerousenough they would begin to look ridiculous; and then,even the steel-clad ass that hadn't any board wouldhimself begin to look ridiculous because he was out ofthe fashion.Secondly, these missionaries would gradually, andwithout creating suspicion or exciting alarm, introducea rudimentary cleanliness among the nobility, and fromthem it would work down to the people, if the priestscould be kept quiet. This would undermine theChurch. I mean would be a step toward that. Next,education -- next, freedom -- and then she would beginto crumble. It being my conviction that any Established Church is an established crime, an establishedslave-pen, I had no scruples, but was willing to assailit in any way or with any weapon that promised tohurt it. Why, in my own former day -- in remotecenturies not yet stirring in the womb of time -- therewere old Englishmen who imagined that they had beenborn in a free country: a "free" country with theCorporation Act and the Test still in force in it --timbers propped against men's liberties and dishonoredconsciences to shore up an Established Anachronismwith.My missionaries were taught to spell out the giltsigns on their tabards -- the showy gilding was a neatidea, I could have got the king to wear a bulletin-boardfor the sake of that barbaric splendor -- they were tospell out these signs and then explain to the lords andladies what soap was; and if the lords and ladies wereafraid of it, get them to try it on a dog. The missionary's next move was to get the family together and tryit on himself; he was to stop at no experiment, however desperate. that could convince the nobility thatsoap was harmless; if any final doubt remained, hemust 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 workedmiracles, and everybody stood in awe of them. If ahermit could survive a wash, and that failed to convincea duke, give him up, let him alone.Whenever my missionaries overcame a knight erranton the road they washed him, and when he got wellthey swore him to go and get a bulletin-board and disseminate soap and civilization the rest of his days. Asa consequence the workers in the field were increasingby degrees, and the reform was steadily spreading.My soap factory felt the strain early. At first I hadonly two hands; but before I had left home I wasalready employing fifteen, and running night and day;and the atmospheric result was getting so pronouncedthat the king went sort of fainting and gasping aroundand said he did not believe he could stand it muchlonger, and Sir Launcelot got so that he did hardlyanything but walk up and down the roof and swear,although I told him it was worse up there than anywhere else, but he said he wanted plenty of air; andhe was always complaining that a palace was no placefor a soap factory anyway, and said if a man was tostart one in his house he would be damned if hewouldn't strangle him. There were ladies present,too, but much these people ever cared for that; theywould swear before children, if the wind was their waywhen the factory was going.This missionary knight's name was La Cote MaleTaile, and he said that this castle was the abode ofMorgan le Fay, sister of King Arthur, and wife ofKing Uriens. monarch of a realm about as big as theDistrict of Columbia -- you could stand in the middleof it and throw bricks into the next kingdom."Kings" and "Kingdoms" were as thick in Britainas they had been in little Palestine in Joshua'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 scoredhere the worst failure of his campaign. He had notworked off a cake; yet he had tried all the tricks ofthe trade, even to the washing of a hermit; but thehermit died. This was, indeed, a bad failure, for thisanimal would now be dubbed a martyr, and would takehis place among the saints of the Roman calendar.Thus made he his moan, this poor Sir La Cote MaleTaile, and sorrowed passing sore. And so my heartbled for him, and I was moved to comfort and stayhim. Wherefore I said:"Forbear to grieve, fair knight, for this is not adefeat. We have brains, you and I; and for such ashave brains there are no defeats, but only victories.Observe how we will turn this seeming disaster into anadvertisement; an advertisement for our soap; andthe biggest one, to draw, that was ever thought of; anadvertisement that will transform that Mount Washington defeat into a Matterhorn victory. We will put onyour bulletin-board, 'Patronized by the elect.' Howdoes that strike you?""Verily, it is wonderly bethought!""Well, a body is bound to admit that for just amodest little one-line ad., it's a corker."So the poor colporteur's griefs vanished away. Hewas a brave fellow, and had done mighty feats of armsin his time. His chief celebrity rested upon the eventsof an excursion like this one of mine, which he hadonce made with a damsel named Maledisant, who wasas handy with her tongue as was Sandy, though in adifferent way, for her tongue churned forth only railings and insult, whereas Sandy's music was of akindlier sort. I knew his story well, and so I knewhow to interpret the compassion that was in his facewhen he bade me farewell. He supposed I was havinga bitter hard time of it.Sandy and I discussed his story, as we rode along,and she said that La Cote's bad luck had begun withthe very beginning of that trip; for the king's fool hadoverthrown him on the first day, and in such cases itwas customary for the girl to desert to the conqueror,but Maledisant didn't do it; and also persisted afterward in sticking to him, after all his defeats. But,said I, suppose the victor should decline to accept hisspoil? She said that that wouldn't answer -- he must.He couldn't decline; it wouldn't be regular. I madea note of that. If Sandy's music got to be tooburdensome, some time, I would let a knight defeatme, on the chance that she would desert to him.In due time we were challenged by the warders,from the castle walls, and after a parley admitted. Ihave nothing pleasant to tell about that visit. But itwas not a disappointment, for I knew Mrs. le Fay byreputation, and was not expecting anything pleasant.She was held in awe by the whole realm, for she hadmade everybody believe she was a great sorceress. Allher ways were wicked, all her instincts devilish. Shewas loaded to the eyelids with cold malice. All herhistory was black with crime; and among her crimesmurder was common. I was most curious to see her;as curious as I could have been to see Satan. To mysurprise she was beautiful; black thoughts had failedto make her expression repulsive, age had failed towrinkle her satin skin or mar its bloomy freshness.She could have passed for old Uriens' granddaughter,she could have been mistaken for sister to her own son.As soon as we were fairly within the castle gates wewere ordered into her presence. King Uriens wasthere, a kind-faced old man with a subdued look; andalso the son, Sir Uwaine le Blanchemains, in whom Iwas, of course, interested on account of the traditionthat he had once done battle with thirty knights, andalso on account of his trip with Sir Gawaine and SirMarhaus, which Sandy had been aging me with. ButMorgan was the main attraction, the conspicuous personality here; she was head chief of this household,that was plain. She caused us to be seated, and thenshe began, with all manner of pretty graces andgraciousnesses, to ask me questions. Dear me, it waslike a bird or a flute, or something, talking. I feltpersuaded that this woman must have been misrepresented, lied about. She trilled along, and trilled along,and presently a handsome young page, clothed like therainbow, and as easy and undulatory of movement as awave, came with something on a golden salver, and,kneeling to present it to her, overdid his graces andlost his balance, and so fell lightly against her knee.She slipped a dirk into him in as matter-of-course away as another person would have harpooned a rat!Poor child! he slumped to the floor, twisted his silkenlimbs in one great straining contortion of pain, and wasdead. Out of the old king was wrung an involuntary"O-h!" of compassion. The look he got, made himcut it suddenly short and not put any more hyphens init. Sir Uwaine, at a sign from his mother, went tothe anteroom and called some servants, and meanwhilemadame went rippling sweetly along with her talk.I saw that she was a good housekeeper, for whileshe talked she kept a corner of her eye on the servantsto see that they made no balks in handling the bodyand getting it out; when they came with fresh cleantowels, she sent back for the other kind; and whenthey had finished wiping the floor and were going, sheindicated a crimson fleck the size of a tear which theirduller eyes had overlooked. It was plain to me thatLa Cote Male Taile had failed to see the mistress ofthe house. Often, how louder and clearer than anytongue, does dumb circumstantial evidence speak.Morgan le Fay rippled along as musically as ever.Marvelous woman. And what a glance she had: whenit fell in reproof upon those servants, they shrunk andquailed as timid people do when the lightning flashesout of a cloud. I could have got the habit myself. Itwas the same with that poor old Brer Uriens; he wasalways on the ragged edge of apprehension; she couldnot even turn toward him but he winced.In the midst of the talk I let drop a complimentaryword about King Arthur, forgetting for the momenthow this woman hated her brother. That one littlecompliment was enough. She clouded up likestorm; she called for her guards, and said:"Hale me these varlets to the dungeons."That struck cold on my ears, for her dungeons hada reputation. Nothing occurred to me to say -- ordo. But not so with Sandy. As the guard laid ahand upon me, she piped up with the tranquilest confidence, and said:"God's wounds, dost thou covet destruction, thoumaniac? It is The Boss!"Now what a happy idea that was! -- and so simple;yet it would never have occurred to me. I was bornmodest; not all over, but in spots; and this was oneof the spots.The effect upon madame was electrical. It clearedher countenance and brought back her smiles and allher persuasive graces and blandishments; but nevertheless she was not able to entirely cover up with themthe fact that she was in a ghastly fright. She said:"La, but do list to thine handmaid! as if onegifted with powers like to mine might say the thingwhich I have said unto one who has vanquishedMerlin, and not be jesting. By mine enchantments Iforesaw your coming, and by them I knew you whenyou entered here. I did but play this little jest withhope to surprise you into some display of your art, asnot doubting you would blast the guards with occultfires, consuming them to ashes on the spot, a marvelmuch beyond mine own ability, yet one which I havelong been childishly curious to see."The guards were less curious, and got out as soon asthey got permission.