Read Tony Mitton's poem again below and talk to each other about how it presents the story of 'Excalibur'. Is the story different in any way to some of the reading that you have done in your research. What do you think about the poem? Did you enjoy it? Why? What techniques does the poet use and what effects do they create?
From 'Excalibur the Magic Sword' by Tony Mitton
Sir Pellinore cried, “Boo-hoo-hoo!
My helmet’s got a dent.
My breastplate’s burst, but what is worst –
My lovely lance is bent!”
“That’s nothing,” cried King Arthur.
“Your helmet’s smashed my sword.
Another blade so nicely made,
I simply can’t afford.”
But as he spoke there came a flash,
a flicker, then a fizz.
Before him stood old Merlin,
King Arthur’s royal wiz.
He shook the sparkles from his cloak,
the fizzles from his hair,
then, as he spoke, began to poke
his finger in the air:
“As magic-maker to the court
I have things well in hand.
So come with me and soon you’ll see
the sword that I have planned.
“It’s being fashioned underground
with secret elvish skill.
With this fine sword you won’t be bored.
You’ll love it. Yes, you will.
“Sir Lancelot can go back home
to Camelot, for tea.
But, as for you, your sword awaits,
so come along with me.”
King Arthur’s eager face lit up.
“A brand new sword? That’s great!
A magic sword made underground!
Wow! I can hardly wait!”
So Merlin and King Arthur
went riding off together.
They rode through mist, they rode through fog,
all kinds of spooky weather.
They seemed to ride forever
down weirdly winding trails,
while all around there came the sound
of strange and eerie wails.
They rode through deep, enchanted woods,
they rode through dreary bogs.
They heard the caw of ragged crows,
the howl of ghostly dogs.
Then Merlin took a little path
that ribboned round a hill,
and soon they came upon a lake
that lay completely still.
No birds sang in the silent trees.
No frogs went croak or hop.
No breezes whispered in the reeds.
No little fish went plop!
“But see,” said Merlin, “yonder…
the centre of the lake…”
So Arthur looked, and at the sight
his legs began to shake.
A slender arm that gripped a sword
rose slowly from the water.
“I’ll save her!” cried young Arthur.
“She must be some knight’s daughter…”
“Be still,” hissed Merlin. ‘There you see
the Lady of the Lake.
She’s like a kind of mermaid.
That sword is yours to take.”
