Part II, Madoc in Aztlan: VII

Meantime Erillyab's messenger had girt
His loins, and, like a roebuck, o'er the hills
He sped. He met Cadwallon and the Prince
In arms, so quickly Madoc had obeyed
Lincoya's call ; at noon he heard the call,
And still the sun was riding high in heaven,
When, up the valley where the Hoamen dwelt,
He led his twenty spears. O welcome, friend
And brother! cried the Queen. Even as thou saidst,
So hath it proved ; and those accursed schemes
Of treachery, which that wretched boy revealed,
Under the influence of thy potent drink,
Have ripened to effect. From what a snare
The timely warning saved me! for, besure,
What I had seen I else should have believed, .
In utter fear confounded. The Great Spirit,
Who taught thee to foresee the evil thing,
Will give thee power to quell it.

On they went
Toward the dell, where now the Idolaters
Had built their dedicated fire, and still
With feast, and fits of song, and violent dance,
Pursued their rites. When Neolin perceived
The Prince approach, fearlessly he came forth,
And raised his arm, and cried, Strangers, away !
Away, profane! hence to your mother-land !
Hence to your waters! for the God is here; ..
He came for blood, and he shall have his fill!
Impious, away !

Seize him ! exclaimed the Prince ;
Nor had he time for motion nor for flight,
So instantly was that command obeyed.
Hoamen, said Madoc, hear me! . . I came here,
Stranger alike to Aztlan and to you;
I found ye an oppressed wretched race,
Groaning beneath your chains ; at your request,
For your deliverance, I unsheathed the sword,
Redeemed ye from your bondage, and preserved
Your children from the slaughter. With those foes,
Whose burthen ye for forty years endured,
This traitor hath conspired, against yourselves,
Your Queen, and me your friend ; the solemn faith,
Which in the face of yonder sun we pledged,
Each to the other, this accursed man
Hath broken, and hath stained his hands this day
With innocent blood. Life must atone for life.
Ere I destroy the Serpent, whom his wiles
Have trained so well, last victim, he shall glut
The monster's maw.

Strike, man! quoth Neolin.
This is my consummation ! the reward
Of my true faith! the best that I could ask,
The best the God could give: . . to rest in him,
Body with body be incorporate,
Soul into soul absorbed, and I and He
One life, inseparable, for ever more.
Strike! am weary of this mortal part ;
Unite me to the God !

Triumphantly
He spake; the assembled people, at his words,
With rising awe gazed on the miscreant ;
Madoc himself, when now he would have given
The sign for death, admiration paused ;
Such power hath fortitude. And he perceived
The auspicious moment, and set up his cry.
Forth, from the dark recesses of the cave,
The Serpent came ; the Hoamen at the sight
Shouted, and they who held the Priest, appalled,
Relaxed their hold. On came the mighty Snake,
And twined, in many a wreath, round Neolin,
Darting aright, aleft, his sinuous neck,
With searching eye, and lifted jaw, and tongue
Quivering, and hiss as of a heavy shower
Upon the summer woods. Britons stood
Astounded at the powerful reptile's bulk,
And that strange sight. His girth was as of man ;
But easily could he have overtopped
Goliath's helmed head, or that huge King
Of Basan, hugest of the Anakim.
What then was human strength, if once involved
Within those dreadful coils? . . . The multitude
Fell prone, and worshipped ; pale Erillyab grew,
And turned upon the Prince a doubtful eye ;
The Britons, too, were pale, albeit they held
Their spears protended ; and they also looked
On Madoc, who the while stood silently,
Contemplating how wiseliest he might cope
With that surpassing strength.

But Neolin,
Well hoping now success, when he had awed
The general feeling thus, exclaimed aloud,
Blood for the God! give him the Strangers' blood !
Avenge him on his foes! and then, perchance,
Terror had urged them to some desperate deed,
Had Madoc pondered more, or paused in the act
One moment. From the sacrificial flames
He snatched a firebrand, and, with fire and sword,
Rushed at the monster: back the monster drew
His head, upraised recoiling, and the Prince
Smote Neolin ; all circled as he was,
And clipt in his false Deity's embrace,
Smote he the accursed Priest ; the avenging sword
Fell on his neck ; through flesh and bone it drove,
Deep jn the chest: the wretched criminal
Tottered, and those huge rings a moment held
His bloody corpse upright, while Madoc struck
The Serpent: twice he struck him, and the sword
Glanced from the impenetrable scales ; nor more
Availed its thrust, though driven by that strong arm;
For on the unyielding skin the tempered blade
Bent. He sprung upward then, and in the eyes
Of the huge monster flashed the fiery brand.
Impatient of the smoke and burning, back
The reptile wreathed, and from his loosening clasp
Dropt the dead Neolin, and turned, and fled
To his dark den.

The Hoamen, at that sight,
Raised a loud wonder-cry, with one accord,
Great is the Son of Ocean, and his God
Is mightiest! But Erillyab silently
Approached the great Deliverer ; her whole frame
Trembled with strong emotion, and she took
His hand, and gazed a moment earnestly,
Having no power of speech, till with a gush
Of tears her utterance came, and she exclaimed,
Blessed art thou, my brother ! for the power
Of God is in thee! . . and she would have kissed
His hand in adoration ; but he cried,
God is indeed with us, and in his name
Will we fulfil the work !'. . then to the cave
Advanced, and called for fire. Bring fire! quoth he;
By his own element this spawn of hell
Shall perish ! and he entered, to explore
The cavern depths. Cadwallon followed him,
Bearing in either hand a flaming brand,
For sword or spear availed not. :

Far in the hill,
Cave within cave, the ample grotto pierced,
Three chambers in the rock. Fit vestibule
The first to that wild temple, long and low,
Shut out the outward day. The second vault
Had its own daylight from a central chasm
High in the hollow ; here the Image stood,
Their rude idolatry, a sculptured snake, . .
If term of art may such mishapen form
Beseem, . . around a human figure coiled,
And all begrimmed with blood. The inmost cell,
Dark ; and far up within its blackest depth
They saw the Serpent's still small eye of fire.
Not if they thinned the forest for their pile,
Could they, with flame suffocating smoke,
Destroy him there ; for through the open roof
The clouds would pass away. They paused not long.
Drive him beneath the chasm, Cadwallon cried,
And hem him in with fire, and from above
We crush him.

Forth they went, and climbed the hill,
With all their people. Their united strength
Loosened the rocks, and ranged them round the brink,
Impending. With Cadwallon, on the height,
Ten Britons wait; ten with the Prince descend,
And, with a firebrand each in either hand,
Enter the outer cave. Madoc advanced,
And, at the entrance of the inner den,
He took his stand alone. A bow he bore,
And arrows, round whose heads dry tow was twined,
In pine-gum dipt; he kindled these, and shot
The fiery shafts. Upon his mailed skin,
As on a rock, the bone-tipt arrows fell ;
But, at their bright and blazing light effrayed,
Out rushed the reptile. Madoc from his path
Retired against the side, and called his men,
And in they came, and circled round the Snake,
And, shaking all their flames, as with a wheel
Of fire, they ringed him in. From side to side
The monster turns ; . . where'er he turns, the flame
Flares in his nostrils and his blinking eyes ;
Nor aught, against the dreaded element,
Did that brute force avail, which could have crushed
Milo's young limbs, or Theban Hercules,
Or old Manoah's mightier son, ere yet
Shorn of his strength. They press him now, and now
Give back, here urging, and here yielding way,
Till right beneath the chasm they centre him.
At once the crags are loosed, and down they fall,
Thundering. They fell like thunder, but the crash
Of scale and bone was heard. In agony
The Serpent writhed beneath the blow ; in vain,
From under the incumbent load, essayed
To drag his mangled folds. One heavier stone
Fastened and Fastened him ; yet still, with tail
Ten cubits long, he lashed the air, and foined
From side to side, and raised his raging head
Above the height of man, though half his length
Lay mutilate. Who then had felt the force
Of that wild fury, little had to him
Buckler or corselet profited, or mail,
Or might of human arm. The Britons shrunk
Beyond its arc of motion ; but the Prince.
Took a long spear, and, springing on the stone
Which fixed the monster down, provoked his rage.
Uplifts the Snake his head retorted, high
He lifts it over Madoc, then darts down
To seize his prey.. The Prince, with foot advanced,
Inclines his body back, and points the spear,
With sure and certain aim, then drives it up,
Into his open jaws ; two cubits deep
It pierced, the monster forcing on the wound.
He closed his teeth in anguish, and bit short
The ashen hilt. But not the rage, which now
Clangs all his scales, can from its seat dislodge
The barbed shaft ; nor those contortions wild,
Nor those convulsive shudderings, nor the throes
Which shake his inmost entrails, as with the air,
In suffocating gulps, the monster now
Inhales his own life-blood. The Prince descends ;
He lifts another lance ; and now the Snake,
Gasping, as if exhausted, on the ground
Reclines his head one moment. Madoc seized
That moment, planted in his eye the spear,
Then, setting foot upon his neck, drove down,
Through bone and brain and throat, and to the earth
Infixed the mortal weapon. Yet once more
The Snake essayed to rise; his dying strength
Failed him, nor longer did those mighty folds
Obey the moving impulse ; crushed and scotched,
In every ring, through all his mangled length,
The shrinking muscles quivered, then collapsed
In death.

Cadwallon and his comrades now
Enter the den ; they roll away the crag
Which fixed him down, pluck out the mortal spear,
Then drag him forth to day; the force conjoined
Of all the Britons difficultly drag
His lifeless bulk. But when the Hoamen saw
That form portentous trailing in its gore,
The jaws which, in the morning, they had seen
Purpled with human blood, now in their own
Blackening, . . aknee they fell before the Prince,
And, in adoring admiration, raised
Their hands with one accord, and all in fear
Worshipped the mighty Deicide. But he,
Recoiling from those sinful honours, cried,
Drag out the Idol now, and heap the fire,
That all may be consumed !

Forthwith they heaped
The sacrificial fire, and on the pile
The Serpent and the Image and the corpse
Of Neolin were laid ; with prompt supply
They feed the raging flames, hour after hour,
Till now the black and nauseous smoke is spent,
And, mingled with the ruins of the pile,
The undistinguishable ashes lay.
Go! cried Prince Madoc, cast them in the stream,
And scatter them upon the winds, that so
No relic of this foul idolatry
-Pollute the land. To-morrow meet me here,
Hoamen, and I will purify yon den
Of your abominations. Come ye here
With humble hearts ; for ye, too, in the sight
Of the Great Spirit, the Beloved One,
Must be made pure, and cleansed from your offence,
And take upon yourselves his holy law.