The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 40

Three days did Arthur sojourn in that court; 61 And much he marvell'd how that warlike race Bow'd to a chief, whom never knightly sport, The gallant tourney, nor the glowing chase Allured; and least those glory-lighted dyes Which make death lovely in a warrior's eyes.

Yet, 'midst his marvel, much the Cymrian sees 62 For king to imitate and sage to praise; Splendour and thrift in nicely-poised degrees, Caution that guards, and promptness that dismays; But Fraud will oftimes make the Fate it fears;-- Some day, found stifled by the mask it wears.

On his part, Arthur in such estimation 63 Did the host hold, that he proposed to take A father's charge of his forsaken nation.

"He loved not meddling, but for Arthur's sake, Would leave his own, his guest's affairs to mind."

An offer Arthur thankfully declined.

Much grieved the Vandal "that he just had given 64 His last unwedded daughter to a Frank, But still he had a wifeless son, thank Heaven!

Not yet provision'd as beseem'd his rank, And one of Arthur's sisters----" Uther's son Smiled, and replied--"Sir king, I have but one,

"Borne by my mother to her former lord; 65 Not young."--"Alack! youth cannot last like riches."

"Not fair."--"Then youth is less to be deplored."

"A witch."[6]--"_All_ women till they're wed _are_ witches!

Wived to my son, the witch will soon be steady!"

"Wived to your son?--she is a wife already!"

O baseless dreams of man! The king stood mute! 66 That son, of all his house the favourite flower, How had he sought to force it into fruit, And graft the slip upon a l.u.s.ty dower!

And this sole sister of a king so rich, A wife already!--Saints consume the witch!

With brow deject, the mournful Vandal took 67 Occasion prompt to leave his royal guest, And sought a friend who served him, as a book Read in our illness, in our health dismiss'd; For seldom did the Vandal condescend To that poor drudge which monarchs call a friend!

And yet Astutio was a man of worth 68 Before the brain had reason'd out the heart; But now he learned to look upon the earth As peddling hucksters look upon the mart; Took souls for wares, and conscience for a till; And d.a.m.n'd his fame to serve his master's will.

Much lore he had in men, and states, and things, 69 And kept his memory mapp'd in prim precision, With histories, laws, and pedigrees of kings, And moral saws, which ran through each division, All neatly colour'd with appropriate hue-- The histories black, the morals heavenly blue!

But state-craft, mainly, was his pride and boast; 70 "The golden medium" was his guiding star, Which means "move on until you're uppermost, And then things can't be better than they are!"

Brief, in two rules he summ'd the ends of man-- "Keep all you have, and try for all you can!"

While these conferr'd, fair Arthur wistfully 71 Look'd from the lattice of his stately room; The rainbow spann'd the ocean of the sky, An arch of glory in the midst of gloom; So light from dark by lofty souls is won, And on the rain-cloud they reflect the sun.

As such, perchance, his thought, the snow-white dove, 72 Which at the threshold of the Vandal's towers Had left his side, came circling from above, Athwart the rainbow and the sparkling showers, Flew through the open lattice, paused, and sprung Where on the wall the abandon'd armour hung;

Hover'd above the lance, the mail, the crest, 73 Then back to Arthur, and with querulous cries, Peck'd at the clasp that bound the flowing vest, Chiding his dalliance from the arm'd emprize, So Arthur deem'd; and soon from head to heel Blazed War's dread statue, sculptured from the steel.

Then through the doorway flew the winged guide, 74 Skimm'd the long gallery, shunn'd the thronging hall, And, through deserted posterns, led the stride Of its arm'd follower to the charger's stall; Loud neigh'd the destrier[7] at the welcome clang And drowsy horseboys into service sprang.

Though threaten'd danger well the prince divined, 75 He deem'd it churlish in ungracious haste Thus to depart, nor thank a host so kind; But when the step the courteous thought retraced, With breast and wing the dove opposed his way, And warn'd with scaring scream the rash delay.

The King reluctant yields. Now in the court 76 Paws with impatient hoof the barbed steed; Now yawn the sombre portals of the fort; Creaks the hoa.r.s.e drawbridge;--now the walls are freed.

Through dun woods hanging o'er the ocean tide, Glimmers the steel, and gleams the angel-guide.

An opening glade upon the headland's prow 77 Sudden admits the ocean and the day.

Lo! the waves cleft before the gilded prow, Where the tall war-s.h.i.+p, towering, sweeps to bay.

Why starts the King?--High over mast and sail, The Saxon Horse rides ghastly in the gale!

Grateful to heaven, and heaven's plumed messenger, 78 He raised his reverent eyes, then shook the rein: Bounded the barb, disdainful of the spur, Clear'd the steep cliff, and scour'd along the plain.

Still, while he sped, the swifter wings that lead Seem to rebuke for sloth the swiftening steed.

Nor cause unmeet for grateful thought, I ween, 79 Had the good King; nor vainly warn'd the bird; Nor idly fled the steed; as shall be seen, If, where the Vandal and his friend conferr'd, Awhile our path retracing, we relate What craft deems guiltless when the craft of state.

"Sire," quoth Astutio, "well I comprehend 80 Your cause for grief; the seedsman breaks the ground For the new plant; new thrones that would extend Their roots, must loosen all the earth around; For trees and thrones no rule than this more true, What most disturbs the old best serves the new.

"Thus all ways wise to push your princely son 81 Under the soil of Cymri's ancient stem; And if the ground the thriving plant had won, What prudent man will plants that thrive condemn?

Sir, in your move a master hand is seen, Your well play'd bishop caught both tower and queen."

"And now checkmate!" the wretched sire exclaims, 82 With watering eyes, and mouth that water'd too.

"Nay," quoth the sage; "a match means many games, Replace the pieces, and begin anew.

You want this Cymrian's crown--the want is just."-- "But how to get it?"--"Sir, with ease, I trust.

"The witch is married--better that than burn 83 (A well-known text--to witches not applied); But let that pa.s.s:--great sir, to Anglia turn, And mate your Vandal with a Saxon bride.

Her dower," cried Ludovick, "the dower's the thing."

"The lands and sceptre of the Cymrian King."

Then to that anxious sire the learned man 84 Bared the large purpose latent in his speech; O'er Britain's gloomy history glibly ran; Anglia's new kingdoms, he described them each; But most himself to Mercia he addresses, For Mercia's king, great man, hath two princesses!

Long on this glowing theme enlarged the sage, 85 And turn'd, return'd, and turn'd it o'er again; Thus when a mercer would your greed engage In some fair silk, or cloth of comely grain, He spreads it out--upholds it to the day, Then sighs "So cheap, too!"--and your soul gives way.

He show'd the Saxon, hungering to devour 86 The last unconquer'd realm the Cymrian boasts; He dwelt at length on Mercia's gathering power, Swell'd, year by year, from Elbe's unfailing hosts.

Then proved how Mercia scarcely could retain Beneath the sceptre what the sword might gain.

"For Mercia's vales from Cymri's hills are far, 87 And Mercian warriors hard to keep afield; And men fresh conquer'd stormy subjects are; What can't be held 'tis no great loss to yield; And still the Saxon might secure his end, If where the foe had reign'd he left the friend.

"Nay, what so politic in Mercia's king 88 As on that throne a son-in-law to place?"

While thus they saw their birds upon the wing Ere hatched the egg,--as is the common case With large capacious minds, the natural heirs Of that vast property--the things not theirs!

In comes a herald--comes with startling news: 89 "A Saxon chief has anchor'd in the bay, From Mercia's king amba.s.sador, and sues The royal audience ere the close of day."

The wise old men upon each other stare, "While monarchs counsel, thus the saints prepare,"

Astutio murmur'd, with a pious smile. 90 "Admit the n.o.ble Saxon," quoth the King.

The two laugh out, and rub their palms, the while The herald speeds the amba.s.sador to bring; And soon a chief, fair-hair'd, erect, and tall, With train and trumpet, strides along the hall.

Upon his wrist a falcon, bell'd, he bore; 91 Leash'd at his heels six bloodhounds grimly stalk'd; A broad round s.h.i.+eld was slung his breast before; The floors reclang'd with armour as he walk'd; He gained the dais; his standard-bearer spread Broadly the banner o'er his helmed head,

And thrice the tromp his blazon'd herald woke, 92 And hail'd Earl Harold from the Mercian king.

Full on the Vandal gazed the earl, and spoke: "Greeting from Crida, Woden's heir, I bring, And these plain words:--'The Saxon's steel is bare, Red harvests wait it--will the Vandal share?

"'Hengist first chased the Briton from the vale; 93 Crida would hound the Briton from the hill; Stern hands have loosed the Pale Horse on the gale; The Horse shall halt not till the winds are still.

Be ours your foemen,--be your foemen shown, And we in turn will smite them as our own.

"'We need allies--in you allies we call; 94 Your sh.o.r.es oppose the Cymrian's mountain sway; Your armed men stand idle in your hall; Your vessels rot within your crowded bay: Send three full squadrons to the Mercian bands-- Send seven tall war-s.h.i.+ps to the Cymrian lands.

"'If this you grant, as from the old renown 95 Of Vandal valour, Saxon men believe, Our arms will solve all question to your crown; If not, the heirs you banish we receive; But one rude maxim Saxon bluntness knows-- We serve our friends, who are not friends are foes!

"'Thus speaks King Crida.'" Not the manner much 96 Of that brief speech wise Ludovick admired; But still the matter did so nearly touch The great state-objects recently desired, That the sage brows dismiss'd in haste the frown, And lips sore-smiling gulp'd resentment down.

Fair words he gave, and friendly hints of aid, 97 And pray'd the envoy in his halls to rest; And more, in truth, to please the earl had said, But that the sojourn of the earlier guest (For not the parting of the Cymrian known) Forbade his heart too plainly to be shown.

But ere a long and oily speech had closed, 98 Astutio, who the hall, when it begun, Had left, to seek the prince (whom he proposed, If yet the tidings to his ear had won Of his foe's envoy, by some smooth pretext To lull), came back with visage much perplext--