Now hath the Lord of Ocean once again
Set foot in Mona. Llaian there receives
Sisterly greeting from the royal maid,
Who, while she tempers to the public eye
Her welcome, safely to the boy indulged
In fond endearments of instinctive love.
When the first flow of joy was overpast,
How went the equipment on, the Prince enquired.
Nay, brother, quoth Goervyl, ask thou that
Of Urien ; . . it hath been his sole employ
Daily from cock-crow until even-song,
That he hath laid aside all other thoughts,
Forgetful even of me! She said and smiled
Playful reproach upon the good old man,
Who in such chiding as affection loves,
Dallying with terms of wrong, return'd rebuke.
There, Madoc, pointing to the shore, he cried,
There are they moor'd; six gallant barks, as trim
And worthy of the sea as ever yet
Gave canvass to the gale. The mariners
Flock to thy banner, and the call hath roused
Soon as Spring shall serve,
Without one wish that lingers, could we bear Ririd from hence, and break poor Rodri's chains, Thy lion-hearted brother; . . and that boy,
If he were with us, Madoc! that dear boy
Sister, said the Prince at that,
Oh, Madoc! she replied,
A hard and unrelenting heart hath he.
The gentle Emma told me she had fail'd,
And that was all she told; but in her eye
I could see sorrow struggling. She complains not,
And yet, I know, in bitterness laments
The hour which brought her as a victim here.
Then I will seek the Monarch, Madoc cried ; And forth he went. Such as might chill a suppliant; but the Prince Fearless began. I found at Dinevawr Our brother Ririd, and he made his suit That he might follow me, a banish'd man. He waits thine answer at the court of Rhys. Now I beseech thee, David, say to him His father's hall is open!
Cold welcome David gave,
Replied, I told thee, Madoc, thy request
Displeased me heretofore; I warn'd thee, too,
To shun the rebel; yet my messenger
Tells me, the guests at Dinevawr who sate
At board with Rhys and drank of his own cup
Were Madoc and Lord Ririd. . . Was this well,
This open disobedience to my will,
And my express command ?
His rising wrath. If I should tell thee, Sire,
He answered, by what chance it so fell out,
I should of disobedience stand excused,
Even were it here a crime. Yet think again,
David, and let thy better mind prevail !
I am his surety here; he comes alone;
The strength of yonder armament is mine;
And when did I deceive thee?.. I did hope,
For natural love and public decency,
That would part in friendship.
He may remain, and join me in the hour
Of embarkation. But for thine own sake,
Cast off these vile suspicions, and the fear
That makes its danger! Call to mind, my brother,
The rampart that we were to Owen's throne!
Are there no moments when the thoughts and loves
Of other days return?.. Let Rodri loose!
Restore him to his birth-right!.. Why wouldst thou
Hold him in chains, when benefits would bind
His noble spirit ?
Leave me! cried the King;
Thou know'st the theme is hateful to my ear.
I have the mastery now, and idle words,
Madoc, shall never thrust me from the throne,
Which this right arm in battle hardly won.
There must he lie till nature set him free,
And so deliver both. Trespass no more!
A little yet bear with me, Madoc cried.
I leave this land for ever; let me first
Behold my brother Rodri, lest he think
My summer love be withered, and in wrath
Remember me hereafter.
Leave me, Madoc !
Speedily, ere indulgence grow a fault,
Exclaim'd the Monarch. Do not tempt my wrath;
Aye! the Ocean Prince replied,
I know thee, David, and I pity thee,
Thou poor, suspicious, miserable man!
Friend hast thou none, except thy country's foe,
That hateful Saxon, he whose bloody hand
Pluck'd out thy brethren's eyes; and for thy kin,
Them hast thou made thy perilous enemies.
What if the Lion Rodri were abroad?
What if Llewelyn's banner were display'd?
The sword of England could not save thee then.
Frown not, and menace not! for what am I,
That I should fear thine anger? . . And with that
He turn'd indignant from the wrathful king.
WINTER hath pass'd away; the vernal storms
Have spent their rage, the ships are stored, and now
To-morrow they depart. That day a Boy,
Weary and foot-sore, to Aberfraw came,
Who to Goervyl's chamber made his
And caught the hem of her garment, and exclaim'd, A boon, .. a boon, dear Lady! Nor did he
Wait more reply than that encouragement,
Which her sweet eye and lovely smile bestow'd;
I am a poor, unhappy, orphan boy,
Born to fair promises and better hopes,
But now forlorn. Take me to be your page!..
For blessed Mary's sake, refuse me not!
I have no friend on earth, nor hope but this.
The boy was fair; and though his eyes were swoln, And cheek defiled with tears, and though his voice Came choak'd by grief, yet to that earnest eye And supplicating voice so musical,
It had not sure been easy to refuse
The boon he begg'd. I cannot grant thy suit,
Goervyl cried, but I can aid it, boy!..
Go ask of Madoc!.. And herself arose,
And led him where her brother on the shore
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