The precious prize?..Now,.. when I would have taken Thy counsel,.. be the evil on his head!
Blame me not now, my brother, lest sometimes
I call again to mind thy parting words
God be with thee! Madoc cried;
And if at times the harshness of a heart,
Too prone to wrath, have wrong'd thee, let these tears Efface all faults, I leave thee, O my brother,
With all a brother's feelings!
And grasp'd, with trembling tenderness, his hand,
Then calm'd himself, and moved toward the boat.
Emma, though tears would have their way and sighs
Would swell, suppressing still all words of woe,
Follow'd Goervyl to the extremest shore.
But then as on the plank the maid set foot,
Did Emma, staying her by the hand, pluck out
The crucifix, which next her heart she wore
In reverence to its relic, and she cried,
Yet ere we part change with me, dear Goervyl, . .
Dear sister, loved too well, or lost too soon!..
I shall betake me often to my prayers,
Never in them, Goervyl, of thy name
Unmindful; . . thou too wilt remember me
Still in thine orisons; . . but God forefend
That ever misery should make thee find
This Cross thy only comforter!
And kiss'd the holy pledge, as each to each Transferr'd the mutual gift. Nor could the Maid Answer for agony, to that farewell;
She held Queen Emma to her breast, and close
She clasp'd her with a strong convulsive sob,
Silently. Madoc too in silence went,
But prest a kiss on Emma's lips, and left
His tears upon her cheek. With dizzy eyes
Gazing she stood, nor saw the boat push off, . .
The dashing of the oars awaken'd her;
She wipes her tears away, to view once more
Those dear familiar faces; . . they are dim
In the distance; never shall her waking eye
Behold them, till the hour of happiness,
When death hath made her pure for perfect bliss!
Two hearts alone of all that company, Of all the thousands who beheld the scene, Partook unmingled joy. Dumb with delight, Young Hoel views the ships and feels the boat Rock on the heaving waves; and Llaian felt Comfort,.. though sad, yet comfort,.. that for her No eye was left to weep, nor heart to mourn.
Hark! 'tis the mariners with voice attuned Timing their toil! and now with gentle gales, Slow from the holy haven they depart.
Now hath the evening settled; the broad Moon
Rolls through the rifted clouds. With gentle gales
Slowly they glide along, when they behold
A boat with press of sail and stress of oar
Speed forward to the fleet; and now, arrived
Beside the Chieftain's vessel, one enquires
If Madoc be aboard? the answer given,
Swift he ascended up the lofty side.
With joyful wonder did the Ocean Lord
Again behold Llewelyn; but he gazed
Doubtfully on his comrade's countenance, . .
A meagre man, severe of brow, his eye
Stern. Thou dost view me, Madoc, he exclaim'd,
As 't were a stranger's face. I marvel not!
The long afflictions of my prison house
Rodri! cried the Prince, and fell
Upon his neck;.. last night, subdued at length
By my solicitations, did the King
Send to deliver thee, that thou shouldst share
He answered, with a stern and bitter smile;
This gallant boy hath given me liberty,
And I will pay him with his father's throne,
Aye, by my father's soul! . . Last night we fled
The house of bondage, and in the sea-caves
By day we lurk'd securely. Here I come,
Only to see thee once before I die,
And say farewell, . . dear brother!
This purpose could be changed! the Sea Lord cried;
But thou art roused by wrongs, and who shall tame
That lion heart?.. This only, if your lot
Fall favourable, will I beseech of ye,
That to his Queen the fair Plantagenet,
All honourable humanity ye show,
For her own virtue, and in gratitude,
As she hath pleaded for you, and hath urged
Her husband on your part, till it hath turn'd
His wrath upon herself. Oh! deal ye by her
As by your dearest sister in distress,
For even so dear is she to Madoc's heart:
And now I know she from Aberfraw's tower
Watcheth these specks upon the moonlight sea.
And weeps for my departure, and for me
Sends up her prayers to Heaven, nor thinks that now
I must make mine to man in her behalf!
Quoth Rodri, Rest assured for her. I swear,
By our dead mother, so to deal with her
As thou thyself wouldst dictate, as herself
Shall wish.
The tears fell fast from Madoc s eyes: O Britain! O my country! he exclaim'd,
For ever thus by civil strife convulsed,
Thy children's blood flowing to satisfy
Thy children's rage, how wilt thou still support
The struggle with the Saxon?
Our strife shall not be long. Mona will rise
With joy, to welcome me her rightful Lord;
And woe be to the King who rules by fear,
When danger comes against him!
For Britain quoth Llewelyn; for not yet
The country of our fathers shall resign
Her name among the nations. Though her Sun
Slope from his eminence, the voice of man
May yet arrest him on his downward way.
My dreams by day, my visions in the night,
Are of her welfare. I shall mount the throne, . .
Yes, Madoc! and the Bard of years to come,
Who harps of Arthur's and of Owen's deeds,
Shall with the Worthies of his country rank
Llewelyn's name. Dear Uncle, fare thee well!..
And I almost could wish I had been born
Of humbler lot, that I might follow thee,
Companion of this noble enterprise.
Think of Llewelyn often, who will oft
Remember thee in love!
He press'd his Uncle's hand, and Rodri gave
The last farewell; then went the twain their way.
So over ocean through the moonlight waves, Prince Madoc sail'd with all his company.
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