The arrow through the arm of Malinal,
With gentle care,.. the readiest weapon that, . .
And held it short above the bony barb,
And, adding deeds to words, with all her might
She stabbed it through the hand. The sudden pain
Provoked a cry, and back the savage fell,
Loosening his hold, and maim'd for further war.
Nay! leave that entrance open! she exclaim'd
To one who would have closed it,.. who comes next
Shall not go thence so cheaply!.. for she now
Had taken up a spear to guard that way,
Easily guarded, even by female might.
O heart of proof! what now avails thy worth
And excellent courage? for the savage foe,
With mattock and with spade, for other use
Design'd, hew now upon the door, and rend
The wattled sides; and they within shrink back,
For now it splinters through,.. and lo, the way
Is open to the spoiler !
Then once more,
Collecting his last strength, did Malinal
Rise on his knees, and over him the maid
Stands with the ready spear, she guarding him
Who guarded her so well. Roused to new force
By that exampled valour, and with will
To achieve one service yet before he died,..
If death indeed, as sure he thought, were nigh,..
Malinal gather'd up his fainting powers;
And reaching forward, with a blow that threw
His body on, upon the knee he smote
One Hoaman more, and brought him to the ground.
The foe fell over him; but he, prepared,
Threw him with sudden jerk aside, and rose
Upon one hand, and with the other plunged
Between his ribs the mortal blade. Meantime
Amalahta, rushing in blind eagerness
To seize Goervyl, set at nought the power
Of female hands, and stooping as he came
Beneath her spear-point, thought with lifted arm
To turn the thrust aside. But she drew back,
And lowered at once the spear with aim so sure,
That on the front it met him, and plough'd up
The whole scalp-length. He, blinded by the blood,
Stagger'd aside, escaping by that chance
A second push, else mortal. And by this,
The women, learning courage from despair,
And by Goervyl's bold example fired,
Took heart, and rushing on with one accord,
Drove out the foe. Then took they hope; for then
They saw but seven remain in plight for war;
And, knowing their own number, in the pride
Of strength, caught up stones, staves, or axe, or spear,
To hostile use converting whatsoe'er
The hasty hand could seize. Such fierce attack
Confused the ruffian band; nor had they room
To aim the arrow, nor to speed the spear,
Each now beset by many. But their Prince,
Still mindful of his purport, call'd to them, . .
Secure my passage while I bear away
The White King's Sister; having her, the law
Of peace is in our power... And on he went
Toward Goervyl, and, with sudden turn,
While on another foe her eye was fix'd,
Ran in upon her, and stoop'd down, and claspt
The maid above the knees, and throwing her
Over his shoulder, to the valley straits
Set off:.. ill seconded in ill attempt;
For now his comrades are too close beset
To aid their Chief, and Mervyn hath beheld
His lady's peril. At the sight, inspired
With force, as if indeed that manly garb
Had clothed a manly heart, the Page ran on,
And with a bill-hook striking at his ham,
Cut the back sinews. Amalanta fell;
The Maid fell with him: and she first hath risen,
While, grovelling on the earth, he gnash'd his teeth
For agony. Yet, even in those pangs,
Remembering still revenge, he turn'd and seized
Goervyl's skirt, and pluck'd her to the ground,
And roll'd himself upon her, and essay'd
To kneel upon her breast; but she clench'd fast
His bloody locks, and drew him down aside,
Faint now with anguish, and with loss of blood;
And Mervyn, coming to her help again,
As once again he rose, around the neck
Seized him, with throttling grasp, and held him
down,..
Strange strife and horrible,.. till Malinal
Crawl'd to the spot, and thrust into his groin
The mortal sword of Madoc; he himself,
At the same moment, fainting, now no more
By his strong will upheld, the service done.
The few surviving traitors, at the sight
Of their fallen Prince and Leader, now too late
Believed that some diviner power had given
These female arms strength for their overthrow,
Themselves proved weak before them, as, of late,
Their God, by Madoc crush'd.
Away they fled
Toward the valley straits; but in the gorge
Erillyab met their flight: and then her heart,
Boding the evil, smote her, and she bade
Her people seize, and bring them on in bonds,
For judgement. She herself, with quicken'd pace,
Advanced, to know the worst; and o'er the dead
Casting a rapid glance, she knew her son.
She knew him by his garments, by the work
Of her own hands; for now his face, besmear'd
And black with gore, and stiffen'd in its pangs,
Bore of the life no semblance. . . God is good!
She cried, and closed her eyelids, and her lips
Shook, and her countenance changed. But in her
heart
She quell'd the natural feeling...
These wretches! . . to her followers she exclaim'd;
And root them from the earth. Then she approach'd
Goervyl, who was pale and trembling now,
Exhausted with past effort; and she took
Gently the maiden's tremulous hand, and said,
God comfort thee, my Sister! At that voice
Of consolation, from her dreamy state
Goervyl to a sense of all her woe
Awoke, and burst into a gush of tears.
God comfort thee, my Sister! cried the Queen,
Even as He strengthens me. I would not raise
Deceitful hope,.. but in His hand, even yet,
The issue hangs; and He is merciful.
Yea, daughter of Aberfraw, take thou hope! For Madoc lives!.. he lives to wield the sword Of righteous vengeance, and accomplish all.
MADOC, meantime, in bonds and solitude,
Lay listening to the tumult. How his heart
Panted! how then with fruitless strength, he strove
And struggled for enlargement, as the sound
Of battle from without the city came;
While all things near were still, nor foot of man
Nor voice, in that deserted part, were heard.
At length one light and solitary step
Approach'd the place; a woman cross'd the door
From Madoc's busy mind her image pass'd,
Quick as the form that caused it; but not so
Did the remembrance fly from Coatel,
That Madoc lay in bonds. That thought possess'd
Her soul, and made her, as she garlanded
The fane of Coatlantona with flowers, Tremble in strong emotion.
The hour of dusk; the Pabas all were gone,
Gone to the battle; . . none could see her steps;
The gate was nigh. A momentary thought
Shot through her; she delay'd not to reflect,
But hasten'd to the Prince, and took the knife
Of sacrifice, which by the altar hung,
And cut his bonds, and with an eager eye,
Motioning haste and silence, to the gate
She led him. Fast along the forest way,
And fearfully, he follow'd to the chasm.
She beckon'd, and descended, and drew out
From underneath her vest, a cage, or net
It rather might be called, so fine the twigs
Which knit it, where confined two fire-flies gave
Their lustre,1 By that light did Madoc first
It is well known that Madame Merian painted one of wings shutt. Others denie that the Cucuij are woont to be these insects by its own light.
"In Hispaniola and the rest of the Ocean Islandes, there are plashy and marshy places, very fitt for the feeding of heardes of cattel. Gnattes of divers kindes, ingendered of that moyste heate, grievously afflict the colonies seated on the brinke thereof, and that not only in the night, as in other countries; therefore the inhabitants build low houses, and make little doores therein, scarce able to receive the master, and without holes, that the gnatts may have no entrance. And for that cause also, they forbeare to light torches or candels, for that the gnatts by natural instinct follow the light; yet neverthelesse they often finde a way in. Nature hath given that pestilent mischiefe, and hath also given a remedy; as she hath given us cattes to destroy the filthy progeny of mise, so hath she given them pretty and commodious hunters, which they call Cucuij. These be harmless winged worms, somewhat less than battes or reere mise, I should rather call them a kind of beetles, because they have other wings after the same order under their hard-winged sheath, which they close within the sheath when they leave flying. To this little creature (as we see flyes shine by night, and certaine sluggish worms lying in thick hedges) provident nature hath given some very cleere looking-glasses; two in the seate of the eyes, and two lying hid in the flank, under the sheath, which he then sheweth, when, after the manner of the beetle, unsheathing his thin wings, he taketh his flight into the ayre; whereupon every Cucuius bringeth four lights or candels with him. But how they are a remedy for so great a mischiefe, as is the stinging of these gnatts, which in some places are little less than bees, it is a pleasant thing to hear. Hee who understandeth he hath those troublesome guestes (the gnattes) at home, or feareth lest they may get in, diligently hunteth after the Cucuij, which he deceiveth by this means and industry, which necessity (effecting wonders) hath sought out: whoso wanteth Cucuij, goeth out of the house in the first twilight of the night, carrying a burning fire-brande in his hande, and ascendeth the next hillock, that the Cucuij may see it, and hee swingeth the fire-brande about calling Cucuius aloud, and beateth the ayre withal, often calling and crying out Cucuie, Cucuie. Many simple people suppose that the Cucuij, delighted with that noise, come flying and flocking together to the bellowing sound of him that calleth them, for they come with a speedy and headlong course: but I rather thinke the Cucuij make haste to the brightness of the firebrande; because swarmes of gnatts fly unto every light, which the Cucuij eate in the very ayre, as the martlets and swal lowes doe. Behold the desired number of Cucuij, at what time the hunter casteth the fire-brande out of his hand. Some Cucuius sometimes followeth the fire-brande, and lighteth on the grounde; then is he easily taken, as travellers may take a beetle if they have need thereof, walking with his
taken after this manner, but say, that the hunters especially have boughs full of leaves ready prepared, or broad linnen cloaths, wherewith they smite the Cucuius flying about on high, and strike him to the ground, where he lyeth as it were astonished, and suffereth himself to bee taken; or, as they say, following the fall of the fly, they take the preye, by casting the same bushie bough or linen cloath upon him: howsoever it bee, the hunter havinge the hunting Cucuij, returneth home, and shutting the doore of the house, letteth the preve goe. The Cucuij loosed, swiftly flyeth about the whole house seeking gnatts, under their hanging bedds, and about the faces of them that sleepe, whiche the gnatts used to assayle: they seem to execute the office of watchmen, that such as are shut in may quietly rest. Another pleasant and profitable commodity proceedeth from the Cucuij. As many eyes as every Cucuius openeth, the hoste enjoyeth the light of so many candels; so that the inhabitants spinne, sewe, weave, and dance by the light of the flying Cucuij. The inhabitants thinke that the Cucuius is delighted with the harmony and melody of their singing, and that hee also exerciseth his motion in the ayre according to the action of their dancing; but hee, by reason of the divers circuit of the gnatts, of necessity swiftly flyeth about divers ways to seek his food. Our men also reade and write by that light, which always continueth until he have gotten enough whereby he may be well fedd. The gnatts being cleansed, or driven out of doors, the Cucurus beginning to famish the light beginneth to faile; therefore when they see his light to waxe dim, opening the little doore, they set him at libertie, that he may seeke his foode.
"In sport and merriment, or to the intent to terrifie such as are afrayd of every shadow, they say, that many wanton wild fellowes sometimes rubbed their faces by night with the flesh of a Cucuius, being killed, with purpose to meet their neighbours with a flaming countenance, as with us sometimes wanton young men, putting a gaping toothed vizard over their face, endeavour to terrifie children, or women, who are easily frighted; for the face being anointed with the lump or fleshy part of the Cucuius, shineth like a flame of fire; yet in short space that fiery virtue waxeth feeble and is extinguished, seeing it is a certain bright humour received in a thin substance. There is also another wonderful commodity proceeding from the Cucuius; the islanders appointed by our menn, goe with their good will by night, with two Cucuj tied to the great toes of their feet; for the traveller goeth better by the direction of these lights, than if he brought so many candels with him as their open eyes; he also carryeth another in his hand to seek the Utia by night, a certain kind of cony, a little exceeding a mouse in bignesse and bulke of bodie: which four-footed beast they onely knewe before our coming thither, and did eate the same. They also go a fishing by the light of the Cucuij.” — Pietro Martire.
Behold the features of his lovely guide;
And through the entrance of the cavern gloom,
He followed in full trust.
Now have they reach'd
The abrupt descent; there Coatel held forth
Her living lamp, and turning, with a smile
Sweet as good Angels wear when they present
Their mortal charge before the throne of Heaven,
She show'd where little Hoel slept below.
Poor child he lay upon that very spot,
The last whereto his feet had followed her;
And, as he slept, his hand was on the bones
Of one,
who years agone had perish'd there,
There, on the place where last his wretched eyes
Could catch the gleam of day. But when the voice,
The well-known voice of Madoc wakened him,..
His uncle's voice,.. he started, with a scream
Which echoed through the cavern's winding length,
And stretch'd his arms to reach him. Madoc hush'd
The dangerous transport, raised him up the ascent,
And followed Coatel again, whose face,
Though tears of pleasure still were coursing down
Betoken'd fear and haste. Adown the wood
They went; and coasting now the lake, her eye
First what they sought beheld, a light canoe,
Moor'd to the bank. Then in her arms she took
The child, and kiss'd him with maternal love,
And placed him in the boat; but when the Prince,
With looks and gestures and imperfect words
Such as the look, the gesture, well explain'd,
Urged her to follow, doubtfully she stood:
A dread of danger, for the thing she had done,
Came on her, and Lincoya rose to mind.
Almost she had resolved; but then she thought
Of her dear father, whom that flight would leave
Alone in age; how he would weep for her,
As one among the dead, and to the grave
Go sorrowing; or, if ever it were known
What she had dared, that on his head the weight
Of punishment would fall. That dreadful fear
Resolved her, and she waved her head, and raised
Her hand, to bid the Prince depart in haste,
With looks whose painful seriousness forbade
All farther effort. Yet unwillingly,
And boding evil, Madoc from the shore
Push'd off his little boat. She on its way
Stood gazing for a moment, lost in thought,
Then struck into the woods.
Down on the sand she sank.
Who comprehend, her agony of joy,
When, by the Prince's care restored to sense,
She recognized her child, she heard the name
Of mother from that voice, which, sure, she thought
Had pour'd upon some Priest's remorseless ear
Its last vain prayer for life! No tear relieved
The insupportable feeling that convulsed
Her swelling breast. She look'd, and look'd, and felt
The child, lest some delusion should have mock'd
Her soul to madness; then the gushing joy
Burst forth, and with caresses and with tears
She mingled broken prayers of thanks to heaven.
And now the Prince, when joy had had its course,
Said to her, Knowest thou the mountain path?
For I would to the battle. But at that,
A sudden damp of dread came over her,. .
O leave us not! she cried; lest haply ill
Should have befallen; for I remember now,
How in the woods I spied a savage band
Making towards Caermadoc. God forefend
The evil that I fear!.. What! Madoc cried,
Were ye then left defenceless? . . She replied,
All ran to arms: there was no time for thought,
Nor counsel, in that sudden ill; nor one
Of all thy people, who could, in that hour
Have brook'd home-duty, when thy life or death
Hung on the chance.
Said he; for of Goervyl then he thought,
And the cold sweat started at every pore.
Give me the boy!.. he travels all too slow.
Then in his arms he took him, and sped on,
Suffering more painful terrors, than of late
His own near death provoked. They held their way
In silence up the heights; and, when at length
They reached the entrance of the vale, the Prince
Bade her remain, while he went on to spy
The footsteps of the spoiler. Soon he saw
Men, in the moonlight, stretch'd upon the ground;
And quickening then his pace, in worse alarm,
Along the shade, with cautious step, he moved
Toward one, to seize his weapons: 'twas a corpse;
Nor whether, at the sight, to hope or fear
Yet knew he.
But anon, a steady light,
As of a taper, seen in his own home,
Swift through the lake Comforted him; and, drawing nearer now,
Madoc's strong arm impell'd the light canoe.
Fainter and fainter to his distant ear
The sound of battle came; and now the Moon
Arose in heaven, and poured o'er lake and land
A soft and mellowing ray. Along the shore
Llaian was wandering with distracted steps,
And groaning for her child.
She saw the boat
Approach; and as on Madoc's naked limbs,
And on his countenance, the moonbeam fell,
And as she saw the boy in that dim light,
It seem'd as though the Spirits of the dead
Were moving on the waters; and she stood
With open lips that breathed not, and fix'd eyes,
Watching the unreal shapes: but when the boat
Drew nigh, and Madoc landed, and she saw
His step substantial, and the child came near,
Unable then to move, or speak, or breathe,
He saw his sister on her knees, beside
The rushes, ministering to a wounded man.
Safe that the dear one lived, then back he sped
With joyful haste, and summon'd Llaian on,
And in loud talk advanced. Erillyab first
Came forward at the sound; for she had faith
To trust the voice... They live! they live! she cried:
God hath redeem'd them!.. Nor the Maiden yet
Believed the actual joy; like one astound,
Or as if struggling with a dream, she stood,
Till he came close, and spread his arms, and call'd
Goervyl!.. and she fell in his embrace.
But Madoc linger'd not, his eager soul
Was in the war, in haste he donn'd his arms;
And as he felt his own good sword again,
Exulting play'd his heart. Boy, he exclaim'd
To Mervyn, arm thyself, and follow me!
For in this battle we shall break the power
Of our blood-thirsty foe: and, in thine age,
Wouldst thou not wish, when young men crowd
around,
To hear thee chronicle their fathers' deeds,
Wouldst thou not wish to add,.. And I, too, fought
In that day's conflict?
Mervyn's cheek turn'd pale
A moment, then, with terror all suffused,
Grew fever-red. Nay, nay, Goervyl cried,
He is too young for battles!.. But the Prince,
With erring judgement, in that fear-flush'd cheek
Beheld the glow of enterprizing hope,
And youthful courage. I was such a boy,
Sister! he cried, at Counsyllt; and that day,
In my first field, with stripling arm, smote down
Many a tall Saxon. Saidst thou not but now,
How bravely in the fight of yesterday,
He flesh'd his sword, . . and wouldst thou keep him
And rob him of his glory? See his cheek!
How it hath crimson'd at the unworthy thought!
Arm arm! and to the battle!
How her heart
Then panted! how, with late regret, and vain,
Senena wished Goervyl then had heard
The secret, trembling on her lips so oft,
So oft by shame withheld. She thought that now
She could have fallen upon her Lady's neck,
And told her all; but when she saw the Prince,
Imperious shame forbade her, and she felt
It were an easier thing to die than speak.
Avail'd not now regret or female fear!
She mail'd her delicate limbs; beneath the plate
Compress'd her bosom; on her golden locks
The helmet's overheavy load she placed;
Hung from her neck the shield; and, though the sword
Which swung beside her lightest she had chosen,
Though in her hand she held the slenderest spear,
Alike unwieldy for the maiden's grasp,
The sword and ashen lance. But as she touch'd
The murderous point, an icy shudder ran
Through every fibre of her trembling frame;
And, overcome by womanly terror then,
The damsel to Goervyl turn'd, and let
The breastplate fall, and on her bosom placed
The Lady's hand, and hid her face, and cried,
Save me! The warrior, who beheld the act,
And heard not the low voice, with angry eye
Glow'd on the seemly boy of feeble heart.
But, in Goervyl, joy had overpower'd
The wonder; joy to find the boy she loved
Was one, to whom her heart with closer love
Might cling; and to her brother she exclaim'd,
She must not go! We women in the war
Have done our parts.
A moment Madoc dwelt
On the false Mervyn, with an eye from whence
Displeasure did not wholly pass away.
Nor loitering to resolve Love's riddle now
To Malinal he turn'd, where, on his couch,
The wounded youth was laid. . . True friend, said he,
And brother mine, . . for truly by that name
I trust to greet thee,.. if in this near fight,
My hour should overtake me, . . as who knows
The lot of war?.. Goervyl hath my charge
To quite thee for thy service with herself;
That so thou mayest raise up seed to me
Of mine own blood, who may inherit here
The obedience of thy people and of mine...
Malinal took his hand, and to his lips
Feebly he press'd it, saying, One boon more,
Father and friend, I ask!.. if thou shouldst meet
Yuhidthiton in battle, think of me.
MERCIFUL God! how horrible is night
Upon the plain of Aztlan! there the shout
Of battle, the barbarian yell, the bray
Of dissonant instruments, the clang of arms,
The shriek of agony, the groan of death,
In one wild uproar and continuous din,
Shake the still air; while, overhead, the Moon,
Regardless of the stir of this low world,
Holds on her heavenly way. Still unallay'd
By slaughter raged the battle, unrelax'd
By lengthened toil; anger supplying still
Strength undiminish'd for the desperate strife.
And lo! where yonder, on the temple top,
Blazing aloft, the sacrificial fire
Scene more accurst and hideous than the war,
Displays to all the vale; for whosoe'er
That night the Aztecas could bear away,
Hoaman or Briton, thither was he borne ;
And as they stretch'd him on the stone of blood,
Did the huge tambour of the God, with voice
Loud as the thunder-peal, and heard as far,
Proclaim the act of death, more visible
Than in broad day-light, by those midnight fires
Distinctlier seen. Sight that with horror fill'd
The Cymry, and to mightier efforts roused.
Howbeit, this abhorr'd idolatry
Work'd for their safety; the deluded foes,
Obstinate in their faith, forbearing still
The mortal stroke, that they might to the God
Present the living victim, and to him
Let the life flow.
And now the orient sky
Glow'd with the ruddy morning, when the Prince
Came to the field. He lifted up his voice,
And shouted Madoc! Madoc! They who heard
The cry, astonish'd turn'd; and when they saw
The countenance his open helm disclosed,
They echoed, Madoc ! Madoc! Through the host
Spread the miraculous joy,.. He lives! he lives!
He comes himself in arms! . . Lincoya heard,
As he had raised his arm to strike a foe,
And stay'd the stroke, and thrust him off, and cried,
Go tell the tidings to thy countrymen,
Madoc is in the war! Tell them his God
Hath set the White King free! Astonishment
Seized on the Azteca; on all who heard,
Amazement and dismay; and Madoc now
Stood in the foremost battle, and his sword,..
His own good sword,.. flash'd like the sudden death
Of lightning in their eyes.
The King of Aztlan
Heard and beheld, and in his noble heart
Heroic hope arose. Forward he moved,
And in the shock of battle, front to front,
Encountered Madoc. A strong-statured man
Coanocotzin stood, one well who knew
The ways of war, and never yet in fight
Had found an equal foe. Adown his back
Hung the long robe of feather'd royalty;
Gold fenced his arms and legs; upon his helm
A sculptured snake protends the arrowy tongue;
Around a coronal of plumes arose,
Brighter than beam the rainbow hues of light,
Or than the evening glories which the sun
Slants o'er the moving many-colour'd sea,
Such their surpassing beauty; bells of gold
Emboss'd his glittering helmet, and where'er
Their sound was heard, there lay the press of war,
And Death was busiest there. Over the breast
And o'er the golden breastplate of the King,
A feathery cuirass, beautiful to eye,
Light as the robe of peace, yet strong to save;
For the sharp faulchion's baffled edge would glide
From its smooth softness. On his arm he held
A buckler overlaid with beaten gold;
And so he stood, guarding his thighs and legs,
His breast and shoulders also, with the length
Of his broad shield.
Opposed, in mail complete,
Stood Madoc in his strength. The flexile chains
Gave play to his full muscles, and display'd
How broad his shoulders, and his ample breast.
Small was his shield, there broadest where it fenced
The well of life, and gradual to a point
Lessening, steel-strong, and wieldy in his grasp.
It bore those blazoned eaglets, at whose sight,
Along the Marches, or where holy Dee
Through Cestrian pastures rolls his tamer stream,
So oft the yeoman had, in days of yore,
Cursing his perilous tenure, wound the horn, 2
And warden from the castle-tower rung out
The loud alarum-bell, heard far and wide.
Upon his helm no sculptured dragon sate,
Sate no fantastic terrors; a white plume
Nodded above, far-seen, floating like foam
Upon the stream of battle 3, always where
The tide ran strongest. Man to man opposed,
The Sea Lord and the King of Aztlan stood.
Fast on the intervening buckler fell
The Azteca's stone faulchion. Who hath watch'd
The midnight lightnings of the summer storm,
That with their awful blaze, irradiate heaven,
Then leave a blacker night? so quick, so fierce,
Flash'd Madoc's sword, which, like the serpent's
tongue,
Seemed double, in its rapid whirl of light.
Unequal arms! for on the British shield
Avail'd not the stone faulchion's brittle edge,
And in the golden buckler, Madoc's sword
Bit deep. Coanocotzin saw, and dropt
The unprofitable weapon, and received
1 Among the presents which Cortes sent to Spain were "two helmets covered with blue precious stones; one edged with golden belles and many plates of gold, two golden knobbes sustaining the belles. The other covered with the same stones, but edged with 25 golden belles, crested with a greene foule sitting on the top of the helmet, whose feet, bill,
His ponderous club,.. that club, beneath whose force, Driven by his father's arm, Tepollomi
Had fallen subdued,. . and fast and fierce he drove
The massy weight on Madoc. From his shield,
The deadening force communicated ran
Up his stunn'd arm; anon upon his helm,
Crashing, it came; . . his eyes shot fire, his brain
Swam dizzy,. . he recoils,.. he reels,. . again
The club descends.
That danger to himself
Recall'd the Lord of Ocean. On he sprung,
Within the falling weapon's curve of death,
Shunning its frustrate aim, and breast to breast
He grappled with the King. The pliant mail
Bent to his straining limbs, while plates of gold,
The feathery robe, the buckler's amplitude
Cumbered the Azteca, and from his arm,
Clench'd in the Briton's mighty grasp, at once
He dropt the impeding buckler, and let fall
The unfasten'd club; which when the Prince beheld,
He thrust him off, and drawing back resumed
The sword that from his wrist suspended hung,
And twice he smote the King; twice from the quilt
Of plumes the iron glides and lo! the King,
So well his soldiers watch their monarch's need,
Shakes in his hand a spear.
Was borne with furious speed. Ririd alone
Pursued his path, and through the thick of war
Close on the captors, with avenging sword,
Follow'd right on, and through the multitude,
And through the gate of Aztlan, made his way,
And through the streets, till, from the temple-mound,
The press of Pabas and the populace
Repell'd him, while the old man was hurried up.
Hark! that infernal tambour! o'er the lake
Its long-loud thunders roll, and through the hills,
Awakening all their echoes. Ye accurst,
Ye blow the fall too soon! Ye Dogs of Hell,
The Hart is yet at bay!.. Thus long the old man,
As one exhausted or resign'd, had lain,
Resisting not; but at that knell of death,
Springing with unexpected force, he freed
His feet, and shook the Pabas from their hold,
And, with his armed hand, between the eyes
Smote one so sternly, that to earth he fell,
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