Part II, Madoc in Aztlan: XVI

Silent and solitary is thy vale,
Caermadoc ! and how melancholy now
That solitude and silence! . . broad noon-day,
And not a sound of human life is there !
The fisher's net, abandoned in his haste,
Sways idly in the waters.; in the tree,
Which its last stroke had pierced, the hatchet hangs ;
The birds, beside the mattock and the spade,
Hunt in the new-turned mould, and fearlessly
Fly through the cage-work of the imperfect wall ;
Or through the vacant dwelling's open door,
Pass and repass secure.

In Madoc's house,
And on his bed of reeds, Goervyl lies,
Her face toward the ground. She neither weeps,
Nor sighs, nor groans ; too strong her agony
For outward sign of anguish, and for prayer
Too hopeless was the ill: and though, at times,
The pious exclamation past her lips,
Thy will be done! yet was that utterance
Rather the breathing of a broken heart,
Than of a soul resigned. Mervyn, beside,
Hangs over his dear mistress silently,
Having no hope nor comfort to bestow,
Nor aught but sobs, and unavailing tears.
The women of Caermadoc, like a flock
Collected in their panic, stand around
The house of their lost leader; and they, too,
Are mute in their despair. Llaian alone
Is absent, wildly hath she wandered forth,
To seek her child ; and such the general woe,
That none hath marked her absence: yet have they,
Though unprotected thus, no selfish fear ;
The sudden evil had destroyed all thought,
All sense, of present danger to themselves,
All foresight.

Yet new terrors! Malinal,
Panting with speed, bursts in, and takes the arms
Of Madoc down. Goervyl, at that sound,
Started in sudden hope ; but when she saw
The Azteca, she uttered a faint scream
Of wrongful fear, remembering not the proofs
Of his tried truth, nor recognizing aught
In those known features, save their hostile hue.
But he, by worser fear abating soon
Her vain alarm, exclaimed, I saw a band
Of Hoamen coming up the straits, for ill,
Besure, for Amalahta leads them on.
Buckle this harness on, that, being armed,
I may defend the entrance.

Scarce had she
Fastened the breast-plate with her trembling hands,
When, flying from the sight of men in arms,
The women crowded in. Hastily he seized
The shield and spear, and on the threshold took
His stand ; but, wakened now to provident thought,
Goervyl, following, helmed him. There was now
No time to gird the bauldric on; she held
Her brother's sword, and bade him look to her
For prompt supply of weapons ; in herself
Being resolved not idly to abide,
Nor unprepared of hand or heart to meet
The issue of the danger, nor to die
Reluctant now.

Rightly had they divined
The Hoaman's felon purpose. When he heard
The fate of Madoc, from his mother's eye
He masked his secret joy, and took his arms,
And to the rescue, with the foremost band,
Set forth. But soon, upon the way, he told
The associates of his crime, that now their hour
Of triumph was arrived ; Caermadoc, left
Defenceless, would become, with all its wealth,
The spoilers' easy prey, raiment and arms
And iron ; skins of that sweet beverage,
Which to a sense of its own life could stir
The joyful blood ; the women, above all,
Whom to the forest they might bear away,
To be their slaves, if so their pleasure was ;
Or, yielding them to Aztlan, for such prize
Receive a royal guerdon. Twelve there were,
Long leagued with him in guilt, who turned aside.
And they have reached Caermadoc now, and now
Rush onward, where they see the women fly ;
When, on the threshold, clad in Cimbric arms,
And with long lance protended, Malinal
Rebuffs them from the entrance. At that sight,
Suddenly quailed, they stood, as midnight thieves
Who find the master waking ; but ere long,
Gathering assured courage, as they saw
No other guard, pressed forward, and essayed
To turn his spear aside. Its steady point,
True to the impelling strength, held on, and thrust
The foremost through the breast, and breath and blood
Followed the re-drawn shaft. Nor seemed the strife
Unequal now, though, with their numbers, they
Beleaguered in half-ring the door, where he,
The sole defender, stood. From side to side,
So well and swiftly did he veer the lance,
That every enemy beheld its point
Aimed at himself direct. But chief on one
Had Malinal his deadly purpose fixed,
On Amalahta ; by his death to quell
The present danger, and cut off the root
Of many an evil, certain else to spring
From that accursed stock. On him his eye
Turned with more eager wilfulness, and dwelt
With keener ken ; and now, with sudden step
Bending his body on, at him he drives
The meditated blow: but that ill Prince,
As chiefly sought, so chiefly fearing, swerved
Timely aside ; and ere the Azteca
Recovered from the frustrate aim, the spear
Was seized, and from his hold, by stress and weight
Of numbers, wrenched. He, facing still the foe,
And holding at length the targe, put back
His hand, and called Goervyl, and from her
Received the sword ; . . in time, for the enemy
Prest on so near, that having now no scope
To raise his arm, he drove the blade straight on.
It entered at the mouth of one who stood
With face aslant, and glanced along the teeth,
Through to the ear, then, slivering downward, left
The cheek-flap dangling. He, in that same point
Of time, as if a single impulse gave
Birth to the double action, dashed his shield
Against another's head, with so fierce swing
And sway of strength, that this third enemy
Fell at his feet. Astounded by such proof
Of prowess, and by unexpected loss
Dismayed, the foe gave back, beyond the reach
Of his strong arm ; and there awhile they stood,
Beholding him at bay, and counselling
How best to work their vengeance upon him,
Their sole opponent. Soon did they behold
The vantage, overlooked by hasty hope,
How vulnerable he stood, his arms and thighs
Bare for their butt. At once they bent their bows;
At once ten arrows fled : seven, shot in vain,
Rung on his shield ; but, with unhappier mark,
Two shafts hung quivering in his leg ; a third
Below the shoulder pierced. Then Malinal
Groaned, not for anguish of his wounds, but grief
And agony of spirit; yet, resolved
To his last gasp to guard that precious post,
Nor longer able to endure afoot,
He, falling on his knees, received, unharmed,
Upon the shield, now ample for defence,
Their second shower, and still defied the foe.
But they, now sure of conquest, hasten on,
To thrust him down, and he, too, felt his strength
Ebbing away. Goervyl, in that hour
Of horror and despair, collected still,
Caught him, and by the shoulders drew him in ;
And, calling on her comrades, with their help
Shut to the door in time, and with their weight
Secured it, not their strength; for she alone,
Found worthy of her noble ancestry,
In this emergence, felt her faculties
All present, and heroic strength of heart,
To cope with danger, and contempt of death.
Shame on ye, British women ! shame! exclaimed
The daughter of King Owen, as she saw
The trembling hands and bloodless countenance,
Pale as sepulchral marble ; silent some ;
Others, with womanish cries, lamenting now
That ever, in unhappy hour, they left
Their native land ; . . a pardonable fear ;
For hark ! the war-whoop ! sound, whereto the howl
Of tygers or hyenas, heard at night
By captive from barbarian foes escaped,
And wandering in the pathless wilderness,
Were music. Shame on ye! Goervyl cried ;
Think what your fathers were, your husbands what,
And what your sons should be! These savages
Seek not to wreak on ye immediate death ;
So are ye safe, if safety such as this.
Be worth a thought ; and in the interval
We yet may gain, by keeping to the last
This entrance, easily to be maintained
By us, though women, against foes so few.
Who knows what succour chance, or timely thought
Of our own friends may send, or Providence,
Who slumbereth not? . . While thus she spake, a hand
In at the window came, of one who sought
That way to win the entrance. She drew out
The arrow through the arm of Malinal,
With gentle care, . . the readiest weapon that, . .
And held it short above the bony barb,
And, adding deeds to words, with all her might
She stabbed it through the hand. The sudden pain
Provoked a cry, and back the savage fell,
Loosening his hold, and maimed for farther war.
Nay ! leave that entrance open! she exclaimed
To one who would have closed it, ... who comes next
Shall not go thence so cheaply ! . . for she now
Had taken up a spear, to guard that way,
Easily guarded even by female might.
O heart of proof! what now avails thy worth
And excellent courage ? for the savage foe,
With mattock and with spade, for other use
Designed, hew now upon the door, and rend
The wattled sides ; and they within shrink back,
For now it splinters through, . . and lo, the way
Is open to the spoiler !

Then once more,
Collecting his last strength, did Malinal
Rise on his knees, and over him the maid
Stands with the ready spear, she guarding him
Who guarded her so well. Roused to new force
By that exampled valour, and with will
To atchieve one service yet before he died,
If death indeed, as sure he thought, were nigh,
Malinal gathered up his fainting powers,
And, reaching forward, with a blow that threw
His body on, upon the knee he smote
One Hoaman more, and brought him to the ground.
The foe fell over him; but he, prepared,
Threw him with sudden jerk aside, and rose
Upon one hand, and, with the other, plunged
Between his ribs the mortal blade. Meantime
Amalahta, rushing, in blind eagerness,
To seize Goervyl, set at nought the power
Of female hand, and, stooping, as he came,
Beneath her spear-point, thought with lifted arm t
To turn the thrust aside. But she drew back,
And lowered at once the spear, with aim so sure,
That on the front it met him, and ploughed up
The whole scalp-length. He, blinded by the blood,
Staggered aside, escaping, by that chance,
A second push, else mortal. And by this,
The women, learning courage from despair,
And by Goervyl's bold example fired,
Took heart, and rushing on with one accord -
Drove out the foe. Then took they hope; for then
They saw but seven remain in plight for war ;
And, knowing their own number, in the pride
Of strength, caught up stones, staves, or axe, or spear,
To hostile use converting whatsoe'er
The hasty hand could seize.. Such fierce attack
Confused the ruffian band ; nor had they room
To aim the arrow, nor to speed the spear,
Each now beset by many. But their Prince,
Still mindful of his purport, called to them, . .
Secure my passage while I bear away
The White King's Sister ! having her, the law
Of peace is in our power. . . And on he went
Toward Goervyl, and, with sudden turn,
While on another foe her eye was fixed,
Ran in upon her, and stoopt down, and claspt
The Maid above the knees, and throwing her
Over his shoulder, to the valley straits
Set off: . . ill seconded in ill attempt ;
For now his comrades are too close beset
To aid their chief, and Mervyn hath beheld -
His Lady's peril. At the sight, inspired
With force, as if indeed that manly garb
Had clothed a manly heart, the Page ran on,
And with a bill-hook striking at his ham,
Cut the sinews. Amalahta fell ;
The Maid fell with him; and she first hath risen,
While, grovelling on the earth, he gnashed his teeth
For agony. Yet, even in those pangs,
Remembering still revenge, he turned and seized
Goervyl's skirt, and plucked her to the ground,
And rolled himself upon her, and essayed
To kneel upon her breast ; but she clenched fast
His bloody locks, and drew him down aside,
Faint now with anguish, and with loss of blood ;
And Mervyn, coming to her help again,
As once again he rose, around the neck
Seized him, with throttling grasp, and held him down,..
Strange strife and horrible! . . till Malinal
Crawled to the spot, and thrust into his groin
The mortal sword of Madoc ; he himself,
At the same moment, fainting, now no more
By his strong will upheld, the service done.
The few surviving traitors, at the sight
Of their fallen Prince and Leader, now, too late,
Believed that some diviner power had given
These female arms strength for their overthrow,
Themselves proved weak before them, as, of late,
Their God, by Madoc crushed.

Away they fled
Toward the valley straits ; but in the gorge
Erillyab met their flight ; and then her heart,
Boding the evil, smote her, and she bade
Her people seize, and bring them on in bonds,
For judgment. She herself, with quickened pace,
Advanced, to know the worst ; and o'er the dead
She cast a rapid glance, and knew her son.
She knew him by his garments, by the work
Of her own hands ; for now his face, besmeared
And black with gore, and stiffened in its pangs,
Bore of the life no semblance. .. God is good !
She cried, and closed her eyelids, and her lips
Shook, and her countenance changed ; but in her heart
She quelled the natural feeling. .. Bear away
These wretches! . . to her followers she exclaimed ;
And root them from the earth. Then she approached
Goervyl, who was pale and trembling now,
Exhausted with past effort ; and she took
Gently the Maiden's tremulous hand, and said,
God comfort thee, my Sister! At that voice
Of consolation, from her dreamy state,
Goervyl, to a sense of all her woe,
Awoke, and burst into a gush of tears.
God comfort thee, my Sister! cried the Queen,
Even as He strengthens me. I would not raise
Deceitful hope, . . but in His hand, even yet,
The issue hangs ; and He is merciful.

Yea, Daughter of Aberfraw, take thou hope!
For Madoc lives! . . he lives, to wield the sword
Of righteous vengeance, and accomplish all.