Classic Poem

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 obey'd
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 reveal'd
Under the influence of thy potent drink,
Have ripen'd to effect. From what a snare
The timely warning saved me! for, be sure,
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! exclaim'd the Prince;
Nor had he time for motion nor for flight,
So instantly was that command obey'd.
Hoamen, said Madoc, hear me! — I came here
Stranger alike to Aztlan and to you;
I found ye an oppress'd and wretched race,
Groaning beneath your chains; at your request,
For your deliverance, I unsheathed the sword,
Redeem'd ye from your bondage, and preserved
Your children from the slaughter. With those foes
Whose burden ye for forty years endured,
This traitor hath conspired, against yourselves,
Your Queen, and me, your friend; the solemn
Which in the face of yonder sun we pledged,
Each to the other, this perfidious man
Hath broken, and hath stain'd his hands this
With innocent blood. Life must atone for his
Ere I destroy the Serpent, whom his wiles,
Have train'd so well, last victim, he shall giut
The monster's maw.
Strike, man! quoth Madoc
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 absorb'd, and I and He
One life, inseparable, for evermore.
Strike; I 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 gives
The sign for death, in 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, appall'd
Relax'd their hold. On came the mighty Snake
And twined, in many a wreath, round Neolm,
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. The Britons stood
Astounded at the powerful reptile's bulk,
And that strange sight. His girth was as of man
But easily could be have overtopp'd
Goliath's helmed head, or that huge King
Of Basan, hugest of the Anakim
What then was human strength, if once involve
Within those dreadful coils? — The multitude;
Fell prone, and worshipp'd; pale Erillyab grew,
And turn'd upon the Prince a doubtful eye;
The Britons too were pale, albeit they held
Their spears protended; and they also look'd
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, exclaim'd aloud,
Blood for the God! give him the Stranger's blood
Avenge him on his foes! And then, perchance
Terror had urged them to some desperate deed
Had Madoc ponder'd more, or paused in act
One moment. From the sacrificial flames
He snatch'd a firebrand, and with fire and sworn
Rush'd at the monster; back the monster draw
His head upraised recoiling, and the Prince
Smote Neolin; all circled as he was,
And clipp'd in his false Deity's embrace,
Smote he the accursed Priest; the avengings
Fell on his neck; through flesh and bone it drink
Deep in the chest: the wretched criminal
Totter'd, 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
Avail'd its thrust, though driven by that strong arm;
For on the unyielding skin the temper'd 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
Dropp'd the dead Neolin, and turn'd, 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
Approach'd 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 exclaim'd,
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 complete the work! — then to the cave
Advanced, and call'd for fire. Bring fire! quoth he;
By his own element this spawn of hell
Shall perish! and he enter'd, to explore
The cavern depths. Cadwallon follow'd him,
Bearing in either hand a flaming brand;
For sword or spear avail'd not.
Far in the hill,
Gave 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 misshapen form
Beseem, — around a human figure coil'd,
And all begrimed 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 thinn'd the forest for their pile,
Could they, with flame or 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 climb'd the hill
With all their people. Their united strength
Loosen'd 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 dipp'd; he kindled these, and shot
The fiery shafts. Upon the scaly skin,
As on a rock, the bone-tipp'd arrows fell,
But at their bright and blazing light effray'd,
Out rush'd the reptile. Madoc from his path
Retired against the side, and call'd his men,
And in they came, and circled round the Snake;
And shaking all their flames, as with a wheel
Of fire, they ring'd 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 crush'd
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 essay'd
To drag his mangled folds. One heavier stone
Fasten'd and flatten'd him; yet still, with tail
Ten cubits long, he lash'd 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 are of motion; but the Prince
Took a long spear, and springing on the stone
Which fix'd 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 for 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 essay'd to rise; his dying strength
Fail'd him, nor longer did those mighty folds
Obey the moving impulse, crush'd and scotch'd;
In every ring, through all his mangled length,
The shrinking muscles quiver'd, then collapsed
In death.
Cadwallon and his comrades now
Enter the den; they roll away the crag
Which held him down, pluck out the mortal spear,
Then drag him forth to day; the force conjoin'd
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 honors, cried,
Drag out the Idol now, and heap the fire,
That all may be consumed!
Forthwith they heap'd
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.