The moment came, disorder split the realm;48
Too stern the ruler, or too feebly stern;
The supple kinsman slided to the helm,
And trimm'd the rudder with a dexterous turn;
A turn so dexterous, that it served to fling
Both overboard—the people and the king!
The captain's post repaid the pilot's task,49
He seized the ship as he had cleared the prow;
Drop we the metaphor as he the mask:
And, while his gaping Vandals wonder'd how,
Behold the patriot to the despot grown,
Filch'd from the fight, and juggled to the throne!
And bland in words was wily Ludovick!50
Much did he promise, nought did he fulfil;
The trickster Fortune loves the hands that trick,
And smiled approving on her conjuror's skill!
The promised freedom vanish'd in a tax,
And bays, turn'd briars, scourged bewilder'd backs.
Soon is the landing of the stranger knight51
Known at the court; and courteously the king
Gives to his guest the hospitable rite;
Heralds the tromp, and harpers wake the string;
Rich robes of miniver the mail replace,
And the bright banquet sparkles on the dais.
Where on the wall the cloth, goldwoven, glow'd,52
Beside his chair of state, the Vandal lord
Made room for that fair stranger, as he strode
With a king's footstep, to the kingly board.
In robes so nobly worn, the wise old man
Saw some great soul, which cunning whisper'd "scan."
A portly presence had the realm-deceiver;53
Ah eye urbane, a people-catching smile,
A brow of webs the everlasting weaver,
Where jovial frankness mask'd the serious guile;
Each word, well aim'd, he feather'd with a jest,
And, unsuspected, shot into the breast.
Gaily he welcomed Arthur to the feast,54
And press'd the goblet, which unties the tongue;
As the bowl circled so his speech increased,
And chose such flatteries as seduce the young;
Seeming in each kind question more to blend
The fondling father with the anxious friend.
If frank the prince, esteem him not the less;55
The soul of knighthood loves the truth of man;
The boons he sought 'twas needful to suppress,
Not mask the seeker; so the prince began—
"Arthur my name, from Ynys Vel[5] I come,
And the steep homes of Cymri's Christendom.
"Five days ago, in Carduel's halls a king,56
A lonely pilgrim now o'er lands and seas,
I seek such fame as gallant deeds can bring,
And hope from danger gifts denied to ease;
Lore from experience, thought from toil to gain,
And learn as man how best as king to reign."
The Vandal smiled, and praised the high design;57
Then, careless, questioned of the Cymrian land:
"Was earth propitious to the corn and vine?
Was the sun genial?—were the breezes bland?
Did gold and gem the mountain mines conceal?"—
"Our soil bears manhood, and our mountains steel,"