But it is Arthur, and Arthur only, who is commemorated at Cadbury Camp to-day. There may be seen his Round Table, and the local superstition runs that within the charmed circle the king may be seen sitting with his knights behind barred golden gates. The great intrenchment is called the site of King Arthur’s Palace; in the field below is King Arthur’s Hunting Causeway; and it is King Arthur’s Well which springs from the hillside and bubbles up in the fourth ditch. These recall the wondrous past, the golden days, when the fame and splendour of Arthur’s Court were on all tongues, and the poet could long afterwards ask-- “Like Camelot what place was ever yet renown’d, Where, as at Caerleon, oft he kept the Table Round, Most famous for the sports at Pentecost so long, From whence all knightly deeds and brave achievements sprong.” It was at Camelot that, when Arthur “let make a crie” the lords, knights, and gentlemen of arms gathered, and “there the King would let make a counsoile generall, and a great justes.” It was to Camelot that Sir Pellinore came “passing sore” and told his saddest of stories; and it was to Camelot that King Arthur turned after wearying combat and hot adventure, certain there to enjoy rest and to find his queen and the barons “right glad of his comming.” “What tidings at Camelot?” asked one knight of another whom he encountered. “By my head,” said the other, “there have I beene, and espied the court of King Arthur, and there is such a fellowship that they may never be brok, and wel nigh al the world holdeth with King Arthur, for there is the flower of chivalry.” Such was the renown of Camelot.