The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 42

BOOK III.

ARGUMENT.

Arthur still sleeps--The sounds that break his rest--The war between the beast and the man--How ended--The Christian foe and the heathen--The narrative returns to the Saxons in pursuit of Arthur--Their chase is stayed by the caverns described in the preceding book, the tides having now advanced up the gorge through which Arthur pa.s.sed, and blocked that pathway--The hunt is resumed at dawn--The tides have receded from the gorge--One of the hounds finds scent--The riders are on the track-- Harold heads the pursuit--The beech-tree--The man by the water spring-- The wood is left--The knight on the brow of the hill--Parley between the earl and the knight--The encounter--Harold's address to his men, and his foe--His foe's reply--The dove and the falcon--The unexpected succour-- And conclusion of the fray--The narrative pa.s.ses on to the description of the Happy Valley--in which the dwellers await the coming of a stranger--History of the Happy Valley--a colony founded by Etrurians from Fiesole, forewarned of the destined growth of the Roman dominion-- Its strange seclusion and safety from the changes of the ancient world-- The law that forbade the daughters of the Lartian or ruling family to marry into other clans--Only one daughter (the queen) is left now, and the male line in the whole Lartian clan is extinct--The contrivance of the Augur for the continuance of the royal house, sanctioned by two former precedents--A stranger is to be lured into the valley--The simple dwellers therein to be deceived into believing him a G.o.d--He is to be married to the queen, and then, on the birth of a son, to vanish again amongst the G.o.ds (_i.e._ to be secretly made away with)--Two temples at the opposite ends of the valley give the only gates to the place--By the first, dedicated to Tina (the Etrurian Jove), the stranger is to be admitted--In the second, dedicated to Mantu (the G.o.d of the shades), he is destined to vanish--Such a stranger is now expected in the Happy Valley--He emerges, led by the Augur, from the temple of Tina--aegle, the queen, described--Her stranger-bridegroom is led to her bower.

We raise the curtain where the unconscious king 1 Beneath the beech his fearless couch had made; Here, the fierce fangs prepared their deadly spring; There, in the hand of Murder gleam'd the blade; And not a sound to warn him from above; Where, still unsleeping, watch'd the guardian dove!

Hark, a dull cras.h.!.+--a howling, ravenous yell! 2 Opening fell symphony of ghastly sound, Jarring, yet blent, as if the dismal h.e.l.l Sent its strange anguish from the rent Profound: Through all its scale the horrible discord ran, Now mock'd the beast, now took the groan of man;

Wrath, and the grind of gnas.h.i.+ng teeth; the growl 3 Of famine routed from its red repast; Sharp shrilling pain; and fury from some soul That fronts despair, and wrestles to the last.

Up sprang the King--the moon's uncertain ray Through the still leaves just wins its glimmering way.

And lo, before him, close, yet wanly faint, 4 Forms that seem shadows, strife that seems the sport Of things that oft some holy hermit saint Lone in Egyptian plains (the dread resort Of Nile's dethroned demon G.o.ds) hath view'd; The grisly tempters, born of Solitude:--

Coil'd in the strong death-grapple, through the dim 5 And haggard air, before the Cymrian lay Writhing and interlaced with fang and limb, As if one shape, what seem'd a beast of prey And the grand form of Man!--The bird of Heaven Wisely no note to warn the sleep had given;

The sleep protected;--as the Savage sprang, 6 Sprang the wild beast;--before the dreamer's breast Defeated Murder found the hungry fang, The wolf the steel:--so, starting from his rest, The saved man woke to save! Nor time was here For pause or caution; for the sword or spear;

Clasp'd round the wolf, swift arms of iron draw 7 From their fierce hold the buried fangs;--on high Up-borne, the baffled terrors of its jaw Gnash vain;--one yell howls, hollow, through the sky; And dies abruptly, stifled to a gasp, As the grim heart pants crus.h.i.+ng in the grasp.

Fit for a nation's bulwark, that strong breast 8 To which the strong arms lock'd the powerless foe!-- Nor oped the vice till breath's last anguish ceast; 'Tis done; and dumb the dull weight drops below.

The kindred form, which now the King surveys, Those arms, all gentle as a woman's, raise.

Leaning the pale cheek on his pitying heart, 9 He wipes the blood from face, and breast, and limb, And joyful sees (for no humaner art Which Christian knighthood knows, unknown to him) That the fell fangs the n.o.bler parts forbore, And, thanks, sweet Virgin! life returns once more.

The savage stared around: from dizzy eyes 10 Toss'd the loose s.h.a.ggy hair; and to his knee,-- His reeling feet--up stagger'd--Lo, where lies The dead wild beast!--lo, in his saviour, see The fellow-man, whom--with a feeble bound He leapt, and s.n.a.t.c.h'd the dagger from the ground;

And, faithful to his G.o.ds, he sprang to slay; 11 The weak limb fail'd him; gleam'd and dropp'd the blade; The arm hung nerveless;--by the beast of prey Murder, still baffled, fell:--Then, soothing, said The gentle King--"Behold no foe in me!"

And knelt by Hate like pitying Charity.

In suffering man he could not find a foe, 12 And the mild hand clasp'd that which yearn'd to kill!

"Ha," gasp'd the gazing savage, "dost thou know That I had doom'd thee in thy sleep?--that still My soul would doom thee, could my hand obey?-- Wake thou, stern G.o.ddess--seize thyself the prey!"

"Serv'st thou a G.o.ddess," said the wondering King, 13 "Whose rites ask innocent blood?--O brother, learn In heaven, in earth, in each created thing, One G.o.d, whom all call 'FATHER' to discern!"

"Can thy G.o.d suffer thy G.o.d's foe to live?"-- "G.o.d once had foes, and said to man, 'Forgive!'"

The Christian answer'd. Dream-like the mild words 14 Fell on the ear, as sense again gave way To swooning sleep; which woke but with the birds In the cold clearness of the dawning day.-- Strung by that sleep, the savage scowl'd around; Why droops his head? Kind hands his wounds have bound.

Lonely he stood, and miss'd that tender foe 15 The wolf's glazed eye-ball mutely met his own; Beyond, the pine-brand sent its sullen glow, Circling blood-red the awful altar-stone; Blood-red, as sinks the sun, from land afar, Ere tempests wreck the Amalfian mariner;

Or as, when Mars sits in the House of Death 16 For doom'd Aleppo, on the hopeless Moor Glares the fierce orb from skies without a breath, While the chalk'd signal on the abhorred door Tells that the Pestilence is come!--the pine Unheeded wastes upon the hideous shrine;

The priest returns not;--from its giant throne, 17 The idol calls in vain:--its realm is o'er; The Dire Religion flies the altar-stone, For love has breathed on what was hate before.

Lured by man's heart, by man's kind deeds subdued, Him who had pardon'd, he who wrong'd pursued.

Meanwhile speeds on the Saxon chase, behind;-- 18 Baffled at first, and doubling to and fro, At last, the war-dogs, snorting, seize the wind, Burst on the scent, which gathers as they go; Day wanes, night comes; the star succeeds the sun, To light the hunt until the quarry's won.

At the first grey of dawn, they halt before 19 The fretted arches of the giant caves; For here the tides rush full upon the sh.o.r.e.

The failing scent is s.n.a.t.c.h'd amidst the waves,-- Waves block the entrance of the gorge unseen; And roar, hoa.r.s.e-surging, up the pent ravine.

And worn, and spent, and panting, flag the steeds, 20 With mail and man bow'd down; nor meet to breast The h.e.l.l of waters, whence no pathway leads, And which no plummet sounds;--Reluctant rest Checks the pursuit, till sullenly and slow Back, threatening still, the hosts of Ocean go,--

And the bright clouds that circled the fair sun 21 Melt in the azure of the mellowing sky; Then hark again the human hunt begun, The ringing hoof, the hunter's cheering cry; Round and around by sand, and cave, and steep, The doubtful ban-dogs, undulating, sweep:

At length, one windeth where the wave hath left 22 The unguarded portals of the gorge, and there Far-wandering halts; and from a rocky cleft Spreads his keen nostril to the whispering air; Then, with trail'd ears, moves cowering o'er the ground, The deep bay booming breaks:--the scent is found.

Hound answers hound--along the dank ravine 23 Pours the fresh wave of spears and tossing plumes; On--on; and now the idol-shrine obscene The dying pine-brand flickeringly illumes; The dogs go glancing through the the shafts of stone, Trample the altar, hurtle round the throne:

Where the lone priest had watch'd, they pause awhile; 24 Then forth, hard breathing, down the gorge they swoop; Soon the swart woods that close the far defile Gleam with the s.h.i.+mmer of the steel-clad troop: Glinting through leaves--now bright'ning through the glade, Now lost, dispersed amidst the matted shade.

Foremost rode Harold, on a matchless steed, 25 Whose sire from Afric's coast a sea-king bore, And gave the Mercian, as his n.o.blest meed, When (beardless yet) to Norway's Runic sh.o.r.e, Against a common foe, the Saxon Thane Led three tall s.h.i.+ps, and loosed them on the Dane:

Foremost he rode, and on his mailed breast 26 Cranch'd the strong branches of the groaning oak.

Hark, with full peal, as suddenly supprest, Behind, the ban-dog's choral joy-cry broke!

Led by the note, he turns him back, to reach, Near the wood's marge, a solitary beech.

Clear s.p.a.ce spreads round it for a rood or more; 27 Where o'er the s.p.a.ce the feathering branches bend, The dogs, wedg'd close, with jaws that drip with gore, Growl o'er the carca.s.s of the wolf they rend.

Shamed at their lord's rebuke, they leave the feast-- Scent the fresh foot-track of the idol-priest;

And, track by track, deep, deeper through the maze, 28 Slowly they go--the watchful earl behind.

Here the soft earth a recent hoof betrays; And still a footstep near the hoof they find;-- So on, so on--the pathway spreads more large, And daylight rushes on the forest marge.

The dogs bound emulous; but, snarling, shrink 29 Back at the anger of the earl's quick cry;-- Near a small water spring, had paused to drink A man half clad, who now, with kindling eye And lifted knife, roused by the hostile sounds, Plants his firm foot, and fronts the glaring hounds.

"Fear not, rude stranger," quoth the earl in scorn; 30 "Not thee I seek; my dogs chase n.o.bler prey.

Speak, thou hast seen (if wandering here since morn) A lonely horseman;--whither wends his way?"

"Track'st thou his step in love or hate?"--"Why, so As hawk his quarry, or as man his foe."

"Thou dost not serve his G.o.d," the heathen said; 31 And sullen turn'd to quench his thirst again, The fierce earl chafed, but longer not delay'd; For what he sought the earth itself made plain In the clear hoof-prints; to the hounds he show'd The clue, and, cheering as they track'd, he rode.

But thrice, to guide his comrades from the maze, 32 Rings through the echoing wood his l.u.s.ty horn.

Now, o'er waste pastures where the wild bulls graze, Now labouring up slow-lengthening headlands borne, The steadfast hounds outstrip the horseman's flight, And on the hill's dim summit fade from sight.

But scarcely fade, before, though faint and far, 33 Fierce wrathful yells the foe at bay reveal.

On spurs the Saxon, till, like some pale star, Gleams on the hill a lance--a helm of steel.

The brow is gain'd; a s.p.a.ce of level land, Bare to the sun--a grove at either hand;

And in the middle of the s.p.a.ce a mound; 34 And on the mound a knight upon his barb.

No need for herald there his tromp to sound!-- No need for diadem and ermine garb!

Nature herself has crown'd that lion mien; And in the man the king of men is seen.

Upon his helmet sits a snow-white dove, 35 Its plumage blending with the plumed crest.

Below the mount, recoiling, circling, move The ban-dogs, awed by the majestic rest Of the great foe; and, yet with fangs that grin, And eyes that redden, raves the madding din.

Still stands the steed; still, s.h.i.+ning in the sun, 36 Sits on the steed the rider, statue-like: One stately hand upon his haunch, while one Lifts the tall lance, disdainful ev'n to strike; Calm from the roar obscene looks forth his gaze, Calm as the moon at which the watch-dog bays.