Part I, Madoc in Wales: III

Then on the morrow, at the banquet board,
The Lord of Ocean thus began his tale.

My heart beat high, when, with the favouring wind,
We sailed away ; Aberfraw ! when thy towers,
And the huge headland of my mother isle,
Shrunk and were gone.

But, Madoc, I would learn,
Quoth David, how this enterprise arose,
And the strange hope of worlds beyond the sea ;
For, at thine outset, being in the war,
I did not hear from vague and common fame
The moving cause. Sprung it from bardic lore,
The hidden wisdom of the years of old,
Forgotten long ? or did it visit thee
In dreams, that come from heaven
The prince replied,
Thou shalt hear all ; .. but if, amid the tale,
Strictly sincere, I haply should rehearse
Aught to the king ungrateful, let my brother
Be patient with the involuntary fault.

I was the guest of Rhys at Dinevawr,
And there the tidings found me, that our sire
Was gathered to his fathers: . . not alone
That sorrow came ; the same ill messenger
Told of the strife that shook our royal house,
When Hoel, proud of prowess, seized the throne
Which you, for elder claim, and lawful birth,
Challenged in arms. With all a brother's love,
I, on the instant, hurried to prevent
The impious battle ; . . all the day I sped,
Night did not stay me on my eager way...
Where'er I passed, new rumour raised new fear...
Midnight, and morn, and noon I hurried on,
And the late eve was darkening when I reached
Arvon, the fatal field. ..The sight, the sounds,
Live in my memory now, . . for all was done !
For horse and horseman, side by side in death,
Lay on the bloody plain ; ..a host of men,
And not one living soul, .. and not one sound,
One human sound, .. only the raven's wing,
Which rose before my coming, and the neigh
Of wounded horses, wandering o'er the plain.

Night now was closing in; a man approached,
And bade me to his dwelling nigh at hand.
Thither I turned, too weak to travel on;
For I was overspent with weariness,
And, having now no hope to bear me up,
Trouble and bodily labour mastered me.
I asked him of the battle: .. who had fallen
He knew not, nor to whom the lot of war
Had given my father's sceptre. Here, said he,
I came to seek if haply I might find
Some wounded wretch, abandoned else to death.
My search was vain, the sword of civil war
Had bit too deeply.

Soon we reached his home,
A lone and lowly dwelling in the hills,
By a grey mountain stream. Beside the hearth
There sate an old blind man; his head was raised
As he were listening to the coming sounds,
And in the fire-light shone his silver locks.
Father, said he who guided me, I bring
A guest to our poor hospitality ;
And then he brought me water from the brook,
And homely fare, and I was satisfied :
That done, he piled the hearth, and spread around
The rushes of repose. I laid me down;
But, worn with toil, and full of many fears,
Sleep did not visit me: the quiet sounds
Of nature troubled my distempered sense ;
My ear was busy with the stirring gale,
The moving leaves, the brook's perpetual flow.

So on the morrow languidly I rose,
And faint with fever: but a restless wish
Was working in me, and I said, My host,
Wilt thou go with me to the battle-field,
That I may search the slain? for in the fray
My brethren fought: vainly, with all my speed,
I strove to reach them ere the strife began.
Alas, I sped too slow!

Grievest thou for that ?
He answered, grievest thou that thou art spared
The shame and guilt of that unhappy strife,
Briton with Briton in unnatural war ?

Nay, I replied, mistake me not! I came
To reconcile the chiefs ; they might have heard
Their brother's voice.

Their brother's voice ? said he,
Was it not so? ...And thou, too, art the son
Of Owen! ... yesternight I did not know
The cause there is to pity thee. Alas,
Two brethren thou wilt lose when one shall fall!..
Lament not him whom death may save from guilt ;
For in the conqueror thou art doomed to find
A foe, whom his own fears make perilous !

I felt as though he wronged my father's sons,
And raised an angry eye, and answered him, ...
My brethren love me.

Then the old man cried,
Oh what is princes love? what are the ties
Of blood, the affections growing as we grow,
If but ambition come ? thou deemest sure
Thy brethren love thee ; .. ye have played together
In childhood, shared your riper hopes and fears,
Fought side by side in battle: ..they may be
Brave, generous, all that once their father was,
Whom ye, I ween, call virtuous.

At the name,
With pious warmth I cried, Yes, he was good,
And great, and glorious ! Gwyneth's ancient annals
Boast not a name more noble: in the war
Fearless he was, . . the Saxon proved him so;
Wise was his counsel, and no supplicant
For justice ever from his palace-gate
Unrighted turned away. King Owen's name
Shall live in the after-world without a blot!

There were two brethren once, of kingly line,
The old man replied ; they loved each other well,
And when the one was at his dying hour,
It then was comfort to him that he left
So dear a brother, who would duly pay
A father's duties to his orphan boy.
And sure he loved the orphan, and the boy,
With all a child's sincerity, loved him,
And learnt to call him father: so the years
Went on, till, when the orphan gained the age
Of manhood, to the throne his uncle came.
The young man claimed a fair inheritance,
His father's lands; mark what follows, prince!
At midnight he was seized, and to his eyes
The brazen plate was held. ...He looked around
His prison-room for help, .. he only saw
The ruffian forms, who to the red-hot brass
Forced his poor eyes, and held the open lids,
Till the long agony consumed the sense ;
And when their hold relaxed, it had been worth
The wealth of worlds if he could then have seen
Their ruffian faces! ..I am blind, young prince,
And I can tell how sweet a thing it is
To see the blessed light !

Must more be told ?
What farther agonies he yet endured ?
Or hast thou known the consummated crime,
And heard Cynetha's fate ?

A painful glow
Inflamed my cheek, and for my father's crime,
I felt the shame of guilt. The dark-browed man
Beheld the burning flush, the uneasy eye,
That knew not where to rest. Come! we will search
The slain! arising from his seat, he said.
I followed ; to the field of fight we went,
And over steeds, and arms, and men, we held
Our way in silence. Here it was, quoth he,
The fiercer war was waged ; lo! in what heaps
Man upon man fell slaughtered! Then my heart
Smote me, and my knees shook ; for I beheld
Where, on his conquered foemen, Hoel lay.

He paused, his heart was full, and on his tongue
The imperfect utterance died; a general gloom
Saddened the hall, and David's cheek grew pale.
Commanding first his nature, Madoc broke
The oppressive silence.

Then Cadwallon took
My hand, and, pointing to his dwelling, cried,
Prince, go and rest thee there, for thou hast need
Of rest ;.. the care of sepulture be mine.
Nor did I then comply, refusing rest,
Till I had seen in holy ground inearthed
My poor lost brother. Wherefore, he exclaimed,
(And I was awed by his severer eye)
Wouldst thou be pampering thy distempered mind ?
Affliction is not sent in vain, young man,
From that good God, who chastens whom he loves!
Oh ! there is healing in the bitter cup!
Go yonder, and before the unerring will
Bow, and have comfort! To the hut I went,
And there, beside the lonely mountain-stream,
I veiled my head, and brooded on the past.

He tarried long; I felt the hours pass by,
As in a dream of morning, when the mind,
Half to reality awakened, blends
With airy visions and vague phantasies
Her dim perception ; till at length his step
Aroused me, and he came. I questioned him,
Where is the body? hast thou bade the priests
To say due masses for his soul's repose ?

He answered me, The rains and dews of heaven
Will fall upon the turf that covers him,
And greener grass shall flourish on his grave.
But rouse thee, prince! there will be hours enough
For mournful memory; .. it befits thee now
Take counsel for thyself: .. the son of Owen
Lives not in safety here.

I bowed my head,
Opprest by heavy thoughts: all wretchedness
The present; darkness on the future lay ;
Fearful and gloomy both. I answered not.

Hath power seduced thy wishes ? he pursued,
And wouldst thou seize upon thy father's throne ?

Now God forbid! quoth I. Now God forbid!
Quoth he ;.. but thou art dangerous, prince! and what
Shall shield thee from the jealous arm of power?
Think of Cynetha! .. the unsleeping eye
Of justice hath not closed upon his wrongs ;...
At length the avenging arm is gone abroad, ..
One woe is past, .. woe after woe comes on, ..
There is no safety here, .. here thou must be
The victim, or the murderer! Does thy heart
Shrink from the alternative? . .look round! .. behold
What shelter, .. whither wouldst thou fly for peace ?
What if the asylum of the church were safe, . .
Were there no better purposes ordained
For that young arm, that heart of noble hopes
Son of our kings, .. of old Cassibelan,
Great Caratach, immortal Arthur's line...
Oh, shall the blood of that heroic race
Stagnate in cloister sloth ? .. Or wouldst thou leave
Thy native isle, and beg, in awkward phrase,
Some foreign sovereign's charitable grace, ..
The Saxon or the Frank, .. and earn his gold,
The hireling in a war whose cause thou knowest not,
Whose end concerns not thee ?

I sate and gazed,
Following his eye with wonder, as he paced
Before me to and fro, and listening still,
Though now he paced in silence. But anon,
The old man's voice and step awakened us,
Each from his thought ; I shall come out, said he,
That I may sit beside the brook, and feel
The comfortable sun. As he came forth,
I could not chuse but look upon his face:
Gently on him had gentle nature laid
The weight of years ! all passions that disturb
Were past away ; the stronger lines of grief
Softened and settled, till they told of grief
By patient hope and piety subdued.
His eyes, which had their hue and brightness left,
Fixed lifelessly, or objectless they rolled,
Nor moved by sense, nor animate with thought.
On a smooth stone, beside the stream, he took
His wonted seat in the sunshine. Thou hast lost
A brother, prince, he cried, .. or the dim ear
Of age deceived me. Peace be with his soul !
And may the curse that lies upon the house
Of Owen turn away! wilt thou come hither,
And let me feel thy face? .. I wondered at him ;
Yet, while his hand perused my lineaments,
Deep awe and reverence filled me. O my God,
Bless this young man! he cried ; a perilous state
Is bis ;. . but let not thou his father's sins.
Be visited on him !

I raised my eyes,
Enquiring, to Cadwallon: Nay, young prince,
Despise not thou the blind man's prayer! he cried ;
It might have given thy father's dying hour
A hope, that sure he needed ! .. for, know thou,
It is the victim of thy father's crime,
Who asks a blessing on thee!

At his feet
I fell, and claspt his knees : he raised me up; ..
Blind as I was, a mutilated wretch,
A thing that nature owns not, I survived,
Loathing existence, and, with impious voice,
Accused the will of heaven, and groaned for death.
Years past away: this universal blank
Became familiar, and my soul reposed
On God, and I had comfort in my prayers.
But there were blessings for me yet in store:
Thy father knew not, when his bloody fear
All hope of an avenger had cut off,
How there existed then an unborn babe,
Child of my lawless love. Year after year
I lived, a lonely and forgotten wretch,
Before Cadwallon knew his father's fate,
Long years and years before I knew my son ;
For never, till his mother's dying hour,
Learnt he his dangerous birth. He sought me then ;
He woke my soul once more to human ties:..
I hope he hath not weaned my heart from heaven,
Life is so precious now!...

Dear good old man!
And lives he still? Goervyl cried, in tears.
Madoc replied, I scarce can hope to find
A father's welcome at my distant home.
I left him full of days, and ripe for death ;
And the last prayer Cynetha breathed upon me
Went like a death-bed blessing to my heart!

When evening came, toward the echoing shore
I and Cadwallon walked together forth :
Bright with dilated glory shone the west ;
But brighter lay the ocean-flood below,
The burnished silver sea, that heaved and flashed
Its restless rays, intolerably bright.
Prince, quoth Cadwallon, thou hast rode the waves
In triumph, when the invaders felt thine arm.
Oh what a nobler conquest might be won
There, . . upon that wide field !.. What meanest thou ?
I cried. ...That yonder waters are not spread
A boundless waste, a bourn impassable, ..
That Man should rule the Elements, . . that there
Might manly courage, manly wisdom find
Some happy isle, some undiscovered shore,
Some resting place for peace. ..Oh that my soul
Could seize the wings of Morning! soon would I
Behold that other world, where yonder sun
Speeds now, to dawn in glory!

As he spake,
Conviction came upon my startled mind,
Like lightning on the midnight traveller.
I caught his hand; .. Kinsman, and guide, and friend,
Yea, let us go together! Down we sate,
Full of the vision, on the echoing shore.
One only object filled ear, eye, and thought :
We gazed upon the aweful world of waves,
And talked and dreamt of years that were to come.