I’m not sure whether to…

I'm not sure whether to be proud or sad that I covered the basic plot line of The Matter of Britain, plus excerpts from Chretien de Troyes, Malory, and Tennyson, in about thirty minutes. I feel a little dirty now. It's like snatching an unsatisfying quickie with the love of your life. Actually, it's like starting to do that, and then getting interrupted by your children, just when you're about to get to the good bits.

I did send them off to actually read the Tennyson (just the Guinevere section), so that is something. We'll see what they think.

"A murmuring whisper through the nunnery ran,
Then on a sudden a cry, "The King." She sat
Stiff-stricken, listening; but when armed feet
Through the long gallery from the outer doors
Rang coming, prone from off her seat she fell,
And grovelled with her face against the floor:
There with her milkwhite arms and shadowy hair
She made her face a darkness from the King:
And in the darkness heard his armed feet
Pause by her; then came silence, then a voice,
Monotonous and hollow like a Ghost's
Denouncing judgment, but though changed, the King's:

"Liest thou here so low, the child of one
I honoured, happy, dead before thy shame?
Well is it that no child is born of thee.
The children born of thee are sword and fire,
Red ruin, and the breaking up of laws,
The craft of kindred and the Godless hosts
Of heathen swarming o'er the Northern Sea"

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