University of Virginia Library

“Edwall, thy words are vain.” David exclaim'd.
“My purposes are ripen'd. Thou shalt find
“That Griffith's son, like the most patient beast,
“Was never form'd for burdens and hard stripes.
“My object is a Crown!”

“Stay!” Edwall cried.
“Look not so high! There is temerity,
“And danger infinite, ere thou approach
“That giddy height. David, my noble Prince,
“If words most kind, and faithfulness most true,
“Even from the tender years of infancy,
“Can witness friendship, am I not thy friend?”
“I know it, Edwall!” David cried. “Thy life
“Hath been a tablet, on the which are traced,
“Lines fair, and of so sweet a character,
“That when my eyes are weary of mankind,
“Their idle forms, and senseless gayeties,
“To thee I turn, and a refreshment find,
“Like what the Seaman feels, when he beholds,
“After a perilous and lonely course,
“Some fair and fragrant isle, rising serene,
“Amid the boundless sea. Doubt not my love.
“Thou art a friend of most established zeal
“And precious value, this my heart confirms.”

“If then a friend, I am, hear me I pray.
“Thy soul to Cambria's sceptre doth aspire!
“To hurl, from his usurped eminence,
“(These are thy words) Llewellyn, our brave Prince,
“And thy good brother. Stay that daring thought!
“It is a stone, beneath which pestilence
“Lies sleeping, yea perdition, and the storm
“Brother of death. Let it alone; disturb
“The drowsy Basilisk, but let this stone—
“For ever sleep!

“Of old, there was a man,
“Fair in his youth, for whom a thousand prayers
“Daily arose; a thousand shields combin'd
“Their sleepless vigilance to guard from harm
“His nightly slumbers, and when, now, at length,
“He stood mature in manhood, every tongue
“Confess'd him like to fabled deities,
“So spotless, and of port so consummate
“Of earthly excellence. He stood alone.
“The regal designation of his brow
“Awed the beholder. Matchless strength was his,
“And such his stable chest and nerve of brass,
“That the appointed times, suited to man,
“Seem'd changed, and perpetuity of health,
“Doom'd to attend, by nature's courtesy,
“This pride of the terraqueous earth we tread.
“Long had he flourish'd, great in warlike deeds,
“Whose foes beheld the shadow of his spear,
“Trembling, and fled: but now, O woe to tell!
“His children in rebellion and fierce strife
“Rose on their parent—scorn'd their filial debt:
“And tho' the citadel dared all without,
“Corruption grew within; when the good man,
“Wearied with grief, oppress'd, disconsolate,
“At his unnatural children, droop'd his head!
“His locks turn'd grey! A premature old age
“Hung weighty on him, yea, he gasps for breath!
“Ah, David! Do I see thy changing face?
“Dost thou perceive that this old tottering man,
“Is Cambria, the dear father of us all?
“Let the warm feelings of thy heart return!
“Wilt thou, in such a moment, lift thy hand
“Against thy parent? David, wilt thou draw
“The long deep bow, in hour like this, and twang
“(Untrembling round the confines of thy heart)
“The fatal string!”

“Edwall!” the Prince exclaimed,
“Talk not with such momentous air and tone.
“There is a strange and preternatural look
“In this thy visage, and thy very voice
“Hath character obscure. I like it not.
“Hear me, my words are plain.

“This Prince of thine,
“Brother, I call him not, in his huge grasp,
“Hath seized my Father's all. Tho' elder born,
“Hath he more royal blood, straining his veins,
“Than David?—Courage more austere and tried,
“Limbs firmer to endure the battle's brunt,
“Or heart that beats with higher purposes?
“Thou know'st he has not! Yet, my Father dead,
“Llewellyn seized his kingdom and his crown.
“Mistake thou not the motive of my heart,—
“I hate ambition, 'tis the bane of man.
“I have no rule, even I! dominion none
“To greet its master, save this one poor tower,
“This castle, and its hunger-fed domain,
“Poor pittance for a Prince. Yet, tho' the thought
“Sends torture to my heart, I heed it not.
“‘Great in adversity,’ my motto this.
“I can endure the scorpion scourge, and smile
“At my tormentors, yet, this heart of mine
“Was never form'd with a low cringing look,
“Obeisant, to behold, in lordly state,
“Strutting and proud Superiority.
“Mine is no second hill, when the sun shines
“Buried in shadows. I must look about,
“Yea, down, upon the crags, lifting their heads
“Around my base, and tho' the wintry storm
“Assail me, and the furious tempest roar—
“There is a music in the warring winds!
“No answer! I have other words in store.
“Even the beasts of earth have learn'd my shame.
“As near him I pass by, the very bull
“Looks with indifference on me; raises up
“His lazy head, then browses the rank grass,
“Forgetting what he saw—so mean am I,
“Who should have been, a Lord, a Potentate.
“Edwall! if thou hast felt, till this good hour,
“Aught in thy heart, of kindness for thy friend,
“Not knowing his plain, naked character—
“Correct thyself! Re-model thy conceits,
“And view me as I am! Know then assured,
“My dart is hurl'd at the sun-gazing bird.
“The lion is my prey. My feet were made
“For paths of peril, and competitors
“That move the earth alone have charms for me.
“But I am scorn'd of all, dust ere I die.—
“A forest leaf that flutters to the breeze,
“Amid the multitude, extinguished, lost.
“Was David form'd for such community
“Of spirits sordid?—which no eye attracts—
“No heart applauds? My soul but vegetates,
“Not lives, deprived of its true nutriment—
“The whirl and vortex of authority.
“Amongst the many foremost I must stand.
“I must ascend and breathe the mountain gale.
“The valley hath its sweets for common minds,
“But the proud brow of Atlas is my home!—
“Tho' cowards quake, and feebleness cry, “hold!”
“I'll burst the gates of brass, and force my way,
“To fame and power, thro' rocks of adamant.”

Edwall replied. “David I must be heard!
“Whence this tumultuous storm? Thee I revere
“For many virtues, tarnish not the whole
“With this huge vice, this high and towering gaze,
“This lofty aspiration. Cæsar like,
“No second man art thou, mark Cæsar's fall!
“Nor think true greatness, only pinnacled
“On power supreme—to stoop where duty calls,
“To curb Ambition's ravenous appetite,
“Hath more of real grandeur, than to wade
“Thro' seas of blood, yea, even to obtain
“The proudest empire man e'er call'd his own.
“I do conjure thee, David, my tried friend,
“By all the mutual and kind offices,
“Which we so oft have shewn, to curb thy soul,
“Mad with imagined trammels, and display,
“Obedience to thy just and lawful Prince.—

“Dart not that look of scorn and contumely.
“Thou know'st the times—that over Cambria lours
“A most foreboding cloud. Edward, that prince
“Renown'd thro' Christendom, now hovers near,
“His falchion lifted, meditating death.
“Nay, at this hour, haply his dogs of war
“May chace our brethren, calling on all arms
“For vengeance. Hear me patiently, brave Prince.
“Llewellyn, faithful to his character,
“Encamps near Snowdon, round him heroes throng,
“Numerous as brave. Late, 'mid his warlike chiefs,
“I heard him call for thee, with wonder fill'd
“That in an hour so perilous, thy front
“Graced not the field. Advancing from the crowd,
“I pledg'd myself, my spotless loyalty,
“That thou wast true, yea at that very hour
“That thou wast acting the brave Briton's part,
“Collecting the stout bands, and that thy flag
“Ere long would wave defiance at the Foe.
“The days pass'd on. I ponder'd on the cause
“Which kept thy noble spirit from the field;
“Till, as my crowded thoughts, importunate,
“Shaped many things, some half discouraging,
“With tempest-like precipitance, I left
“Old Snowdon's base, to find, where'er his haunt,
“David, my lingering Prince. Here now thou art,
“Throw off that scowl, unnatural, from thy brow.
“Thy soul was once the seat of generous thoughts,
“Let not thy lengthen'd intercourse with men
“Blunt thy best feelings; let not growing years
“Make callous thy mild heart, as time doth oft
“The tender stone, raised from its parent bed.—
“Forget the fluttering blade when tempests rave,
“And haste with me, intent and resolute,
“To do such deeds as Cambria long may praise.”

David indignant cried, “Did thy proud Prince
“Deign to inquire for one, abject and low,
“Whom in his soul, spite of his specious words,
“He doth despise? I know Llewellyn's heart.
“His lordly eye, familiar to my mind,
“E'en in the still and blackest shades of night,
“Gazes incessant on me, and his words,
“So picturing well the lofty Potentate,
“Sound in mine cars, e'en in my very dreams,
“Like the monotonous dull waterfall.
“Away ambiguous and half-utter'd speech,
“I hate him!”

Edwall cried, “O Prince, forbear!
“These are the fumes of a distemper'd mind,
“A jaundice which o'er all Llewellyn does,
“Casts a false shade. Altho' no title mine,
“I have some skill to judge of character,
“Unravelling in nice intertexture, minds,
“Thwarted and sore. David, believe thy friend!
“Thou hast a heart towering as Lucifer.
“Pride revels there, ambition, thirst of power,
“Pre-eminent. These Demons in thy breast
“Have wrought a tempest. Rather than remain
“Second in Cambria, with a baneful grasp
“Thou wouldst pull down all venerable things,
“(Remorseless, tranquil 'mid the storm of death,)
“And in one wreck bury thy name and race.
“Thou art a piteous man! Occurrences,
“(To the due-pois'd and well-attemper'd mind)
“Small and most innocent, that, atoms like,
“Floating in air, light on us unperceived,
“Rouse up thy wild-wing's passions to a storm.
“Thy spirit, in the hour of gall, converts
“All things to poison, with strange aptitude,
“And most perverse and hollow semblances
“Of injured verity. Once more appear
“In thine own true and proper character,
“Such as I knew thee once, guileless and frank,
“Fruitful in all ennobling purposes,
“Thy father's pride, thy country's hope, and loved
“By one whose heart still hovers round his friend.
“Thy brother reigns o'er Cambria, nor, than his,
“Lives there a heart endued with princelier gifts.
“Own then his virtues; stoop to his command;
“So shall thy peace return, and thy good fame
“Unsullied shine, whilst all shall honor thee,
“Next to thy rightful Prince.”

David exclaim'd,
“Away! The jargon aptness of thy tongue,
“Moves my derision! O, forgive my words!
“Thou art the last of men, to whom my speech
“Would do dishonor. Edwall, from my heart,
“I prize thee, but the man whose sudden bound
“Leap'd on the seat, which I had seen and felt
“And call'd my own, thus hurling to the dirt,
“E'en to the abject mire, this head, this name,
“Or else illustrious 'mid earth's potentates,
“I from my deepest soul do execrate!”

“Stop!” Edwall cried. “Can this be David's voice?
“What words are these of burning contumely?
“Thy Brother hate! thy Brother execrate!
“O tear the dark obtruder from thy breast.
“Whate'er thou might'st desire of eminence,
“In thine uncouth, disdainful spirit high,
“Is not Llewellyn, just and lawful Prince
“Of ancient Cambria? This thou knowest well;
“Then wherefore such rebellious and strange hate?
“Pause! for another step is leagued with death!
“Should'st thou even gain the summit of thy hopes,
“Wading thro' blood, and on Llewellyn's neck,
“Trample, to spring to thine imperial seat,
“Thou wouldst arise, not like the lord of day,
“Circled with glory; thou wouldst be the moon,
“Pale, cloudless, and in doleful garb attired,
“That never homage forced, from the rapt heart.
“Thou callest me thy friend. A friend is he
“Who deals in truth, naked, nor shuns to speak
“Words that ill suit the hollow sycophant.
“Now, let me ask thee, in a sun-beam phrase,
“And give me answer, clear and manifest.
“At this portentous hour, what path is thine?
“Thou know'st that Cambria totters, that her foe
“Is sworn to her destruction and now lifts
“The blazing spear. Wilt thou thy country serve,
“Or 'mid the harvest, whilst ten thousand swords
“Reap honor and imperishable praise,
“Turn to the den of shame, and bury there,
“The pearl which should have purchased high renown?”

David exclaim'd. “Edwall, I tell thee not!
“What if it pleased my mind, that never yet
“To mortal stood accountable, that I,—
“Even I, should join the standard of the foe!
“What wouldst thou say to that?”

Edwall replied.
“This would I say. Tho' I have call'd thee dear,
“Yea oft have pledg'd my honor and my life,
“On thine allegiance, shouldst thou turn thy face
“From Cambria, and e'en look upon the foe,
“Each drop of my heart's blood would loathe thy name!
“Thy very wife, thy children, rising now
“In youth's luxuriance, at their recreant sire
“Would scoff, and, 'mid the hootings of the crowd,
“Lift their shrill voices.”

David, trembling, cried.
“I said it not. Do not mistake my words.
“No! Edwall, no! My wife! my beauteous boys!
“I will not wrong you! never shall ye say
“My traitorous father plunged me in disgrace!

“Edwall! my troubled mind seeks solitude—
“A transient respite; more, I cannot say.
“Now leave me, my best friend! a little space,
“And by thy side, I will fight valiantly.”
They part, and each the other bids farewell.