Part I, Madoc in Wales: VIII

Again, and now with better hope, I sought
The city of the King: there went with me
Iolo, old Iolo, he who knows
The virtue of all herbs of mount or vale,
Or greenwood shade, or quiet brooklet's bed ;
Whatever lore of science, or of song,
Sages and Bards of old have handed down.
Aztlan that day poured forth her swarming sons,
To wait my coming. Will he ask his God
To stay the wrathful hand ? that was the cry,
The general cry, And will he save the King ?
Coanocotzin too had nurst that thought,
And the strong hope upheld him: he put forth
His hand, and raised a quick and anxious eye, ..
Is it not peace and mercy? ..thou art come
To pardon and to save!

I answered him,
That power, O King of Aztlan, is not mine.
Such help as human cunning can bestow,
Such human help I bring ; but health and life
Are in the hand of God, who at his will
Gives or withdraws ; and what he wills is best.
Then old Iolo took his arm, and felt
The symptom, and he bade him have good hope,
For life was strong within him. So it proved ;
The drugs of subtle virtue did their work ;
They quelled the venom of the malady,
And from the frame expelled it, . . that a sleep
Fell on the king, a sweet and natural sleep,
And from its healing he awoke refreshed,
Though weak, and joyful like a man who felt
The peril past away.

Ere long we spake
Of concord, and how best to knit the bonds
Of lasting friendship. When we won this land,
Coanocotzin said, these fertile vales
Were not, as now, with fruitful groves embowered,
I . Nor rich with towns and populous villages,
Abounding, as thou seest, with life and joy :
Our fathers found bleak heath, and desert moor,
Wild woodland, and savannahs wide and waste,
Rude country of rude dwellers: from our arms
They to the mountain fastnesses retired,
And long with obstinate and harassing war
Provoked us, hoping not for victory,
Yet mad for vengeance: till Tepollomi
Fell by my father's hand ; and with their king,
The strength and flower of all their youth cut off,
All in one desolating day, they took
The yoke upon their necks. What wouldest thou
That to these Hoamen I should now concede?
Lord of the Ocean, speak ! -
Let them be free !
Quoth I. I come not from my native isle
Io wage the war of conquest, to cast out
Your people from the land which time and toil
Have rightly made their own. The World is wide:
Vhere is enough for all. So they be freed
From that accursed tribute, and ye shed
The life of man no more in sacrifice, ..
In the most holy name of God I say,
Let there be peace between us !

Thou hast won
Their liberty, the King replied: henceforth,
Free as they are, if they provoke the war,
Reluctantly will Aztlan raise her arm.
Be thou the peace-preserver. To what else
Thou sayest, instructed by calamity,
I lend a humble ear ; but to destroy
The worship of my fathers, or abate -
Or change one point, lies not within the reach
And scope of kingly power. Speak thou hereon
With those whom we hold holy, with the sons
Of the Temple, they who commune with the Gods ;
Awe them, for they awe me. So we resolved,
That when the bones of King Tepollomi
Had had their funeral honours, they and I
Should, by the green lake-side, before the King,
And in the presence of the people, hold
A solemn talk.

Then to the mountain huts,
The bearer of good tidings, I returned,
Leading the honourable train who bore
The relics of the King; not parched and black,
As I had seen the unnatural corpse stand up,
In ghastly mockery of the attitude
And act of life ;.. his bones had now been blanched
With decent reverence. Soon the mountaineers
Saw the white deer-skin shroud ; the rumour spread;
They gathered round, and followed in our train.
Before Erillyab's hut the bearers laid
Their burthen down. She, calm of countenance,
And with dry eye, albeit her hand, the while,
Shook like an agueish limb, unrolled the shroud.
The multitude stood gazing silently,
The young and old alike, all awed and hushed
Under the holy feeling, . . and the hush
Was aweful; that huge multitude so still,
That we could hear distinct the mountain stream
Roll down its rocky channel far away.
And this was all ; sole ceremony this,
The sight of death and silence, . . till at length,
In the ready grave the bones were laid to rest.
T'was in her hut and home, yea, underneath
The marriage bed, the bed of widowhood,
Her husband's grave was dug ; on softest fur
The bones were laid, with fur were covered o'er,
Then heapt with bark and boughs, and, last of all,
Earth was to earth trod down.

And now the day
Appointed for our talk of peace was come.
On the green margin of the lake we met,
Elders, Priests, and Chiefs; the multitude
Around the circle of the council stood.
Then, in the midst, Coanocotzin rose,
And thus the King began: Pabas, and Chiefs
Of Aztlan, hither ye are come to learn
The law of peace. The Lord of Ocean saith,
The Tribes whom he hath gathered underneath
The wings of his protection, shall be free:
And, in the name of his great God, he saith,
That ye shall never shed in sacrifice
The blood of man. Are ye content? that so
We may together here, in happy hour,
Bury the sword!

Hereat a Paba rose,
And answered for his brethren : .. He hath won
The Hoamen's freedom, that their blood no more
Shall on our altars flow ; for this the Lord
Of Ocean fought, and Aztlan yielded it
In battle: but if we forego the rites
Of our forefathers, if we wrong the Gods,
Who give us timely sun and timely showers,
Their wrath will be upon us; they will shut
Their ears to prayer, and turn away the eyes
That watch for our well-doing, and with-hold
The hands that scatter our prosperity.

Cynetha then arose ; between his son
And me supported, rose the blind old man.
Ye wrong us, men of Aztlan, if ye deem
We bid ye wrong the Gods ; accurst were he
Who would obey such bidding, .. more accurst
The wretch who dared command impiety !
It is the will of God that we make known,
Your God and ours. Know ye not Him, who laid
The deep foundations of the earth, and built
The arch of heaven, and kindled yonder sun,
And breathed into the woods and waves and sky
The power of life ?

We know Him! they replied,
The great For-Ever One, the God of Gods,
Ipalnemoani, He by whom we live !
And we too, quoth Ayayaca, we know
And worship the Great Spirit, who in clouds
And storms, in mountain caves, and by the fall
Of waters, in the woodland solitude,
And in the night and silence of the sky,
Doth make his being felt. We also know,
And fear, and worship the Beloved One.

Our God, replied Cynetha, is the same,
The Universal Father. He to the first
Made his will known ; but when men multiplied,
The Evil Spirits darkened them, and sin
And misery came into the world, and men
Forsook the way of truth, and gave to stocks
And stones the incommunicable name.
Yet with one chosen, one peculiar Race,
The knowledge of their Father and their God
Remained, from sire to son transmitted down.
While the bewildered Nations of the earth
Wandered in fogs, and were in darkness lost,
The light abode with them ; and when at times
They sinned and went astray, the Lord hath put
A voice into the mouths of holy men,
Raising up witnesses unto himself,
That so the saving knowledge of his name
Might never fail; nor the glad promise, given -
To our first parent, that at length his sons,
From error, sin, and wretchedness redeemed,
Should form one happy family of love.
Nor ever hath that light, howe'er bedimmed,
Wholly been quenched : still in the heart of man
A feeling and an instinct it exists,
His very nature's stamp and privilege,
Yea, of his life the life. I tell ye not,
O Aztecas! of things unknown before ;
I do but waken up that living sense
That sleeps within ye! Do ye love the Gods
Who call for blood ? Doth the poor sacrifice
Go with a willing step, to lay his life
Upon their altars ?. . Good must come of good,
Evil of evil: if the fruit be death,
The poison springeth from the sap and root,
And the whole tree is deadly ; if the rites
Be evil, they who claim them are not good,
Not to be worshipped then ; for to obey
The evil will is evil. Aztecas!
From the For-Ever, the Beloved One,
The Universal Only God I speak,
Your God and mine, our Father and our Judge.
Hear ye his law, . . hear ye the perfect law
Of love, " Do ye to others, as ye would
That they should do to you!" He bids us meet
To praise his name, in thankfulness and joy ;
He bids us, in our sorrow, pray to him,
The Comforter ; love him, for he is good !
Fear him, for he is just! obey his will,
For who can bear his anger !

While he spake,
They stood with open mouth, and motionless sight,
Watching his countenance, as though the voice
Were of a God ; for sure it seemed that less
Than inspiration could not have infused
That eloquent passion in a blind man's face.
And when he ceased, all eyes at once were turned
Upon the Pabas, waiting their reply,
If that to that acknowledged argument
Reply could be devised ; but they themselves,
Stricken by the truth, were silent; and they looked
Toward their chief and mouth-piece, the High Priest
Tezozomoc ; he too was pale and mute,
And when he gathered up his strength to speak,
Speech failed him, his lip failed, and his eye
Fell, utterly abashed, and put to shame.
But in the Chiefs, and in the multitude,
And in the King of Aztlan, better thoughts
Were working ; for the Spirit of the Lord
That day was moving in the heart of man.
Coanocotzin rose: Pabas, and Chiefs,
And men of Aztlan, ye have heard a talk
Of peace and love, and there is no reply.
Are ye content with what the Wise Man saith ?
And will ye worship God in that good way
Which God himself ordains? If it be so,
We will together here, in happy hour,
Bury the sword.

Tezozomoc replied,
This thing is new, and in the land till now
Unheard : .. what marvel, therefore, if we find
No ready answer ? Let our Lord the King
Do that which seemeth best.

Yuhidthiton,
Chief of the Chiefs of Aztlan, next arose,
Of all her numerous sons, could Aztlan boast
No mightier arm in battle, nor whose voice
To more attentive silence hushed the hall
Of council. When the Wise Man spake, — he,
I asked of mine own heart if it were so,
And, as he said, the living instinct there
Answered, and owned the truth. In happy hour,
O King of Aztlan, did the Ocean Lord
Through the great waters hither wend his way ;.
For sure he is the friend of God and man!

At that an uproar of assent arose
From the whole people, a tumultuous shout
Of universal joy and glad acclaim.
But when Coanocotzin raised his hand,
That he might speak, the clamour and the buzz
Ceased, and the multitude, in tiptoe hope,
Attent and still, await the final voice.
Then said the Sovereign, Hear, O Aztecas,
Your own united will! From this day forth
No life upon the altar shall be shed,
No blood shall flow in sacrifice ; the rites
Shall all be pure, such as the blind old man,
Whom God hath taught, teach. This ye have willed;
And therefore it shall be !

The King hath said!
Like thunder the collected voice replied :
Let it be so!

Lord of the Ocean, then
Pursued the King of Aztlan, we will now
Lay the war-weapon in the grave, and join
In right-hand friendship. By our custom, blood
Should sanctify and bind the solemn act;
But by what oath and ceremony thou
Shalt proffer, by the same will Aztlan swear.

Nor oath, nor ceremony, I replied,
O King, is needful. To his own good word
The good and honourable man will act.
Oaths will not curb the wicked. Here we stand
In the broad day-light; the For-Ever One,
The Every-Where beholds us. He will hear
The word, and mark the action: in his sight
We join our hands in peace: if e'er again
Should these right hands be raised in enmity,
Upon the offender will His judgment fall.
The grave was dug ; Coanocotzin laid
His weapon in the earth; Erillyab's son,
Young Amalahta, for the Hoamen, laid
His hatchet there ; and there I laid the sword.

Here let me end. What followed was the work
Of peace, no theme of story ; how we fixed
Our sojourn in the hills, and sowed our fields,
And, day by day, saw all things prospering.
Thence have I sailed, Goervyl, to announce
The tidings of my happy enterprise ;
There I return, to take thee to our home.
I love my native land ; with as true love
As ever yet did warm a British heart,
Love I the green fields of the beautiful Isle,
My father's heritage ! but far away,
Where Nature's booner hand has blest the earth,
My heritage hath fallen ; beyond the seas
Madoc hath found his home ; beyond the seas
A country for his children hath he chosen, :
A land wherein their portion may be peace.