Stablish the love, else wavering: let them see,
That, as more pure and gentle is your faith,
Yourselves are gentler, purer. Ye shall be
As gods among them, if ye thus obey
God’s precepts.
Soon the mountain tribes in arms,
Rose at Lincoya’s call; a numerous host,
More than in numbers, in the memory
Of long oppression, and revengeful hope,
A formidable foe. I stationed them
Where, at the entrance of the rocky straits,
Secure themselves, their arrows might command
The coming army. On the plain below
We took our stand, between the mountain base
And the green margin of the waters. Soon
Their long array came on. Oh, what a pomp
And pride and pageantry of war was there!
Not half so gaudied, for their May-day mirth
All wreath’d and ribanded, our youths and maids,
As these stern Aztecas in war attire!
The golden glitterance, and the feather-mail,
More gay than glittering gold; and round the helm,
A coronal of high, upstanding plumes,
Green as the spring grass in the sunny shower;
Or scarlet bright, as in the wintry wood
The clustered holly; or of purple tint,..
Whereto shall that be likened? to what gem
Indiadem’d... what flower... what insect’s wing?
With war-songs and wild music they came on,
We, the while, kneeling, rais’d with one accord
The hymn of supplication
Front to front,
And now the embattled armies stood: band
Of priests, all sable-garmented, advanced;
They piled a heap of sedge before our host,
And warned us... Sons of Ocean! from the land
Of Aztlan, while ye may, depart in peace!
Before the fire shall be extinguished, hence!
Or, even as yon dry sedge amid the flame,
So ye shall be consumed... The arid heap
They kindled, and the rapid flame ran up,
And blazed, and died away. Then from his bow,
With steady hand, their chosen archer loos’d
The Arrow of the Omen. To its mark
The shaft of divination fled; it smote
Cadwallon’s plated breast; the brittle point
Rebounded. He, contemptuous of their faith,
Stooped for the shaft, and while with zealous speed
To the rescue they rush’d onward, snapping it
Asunder, tossed the fragments back in scorn.
Fierce was their onset; never in the field
Encountered I with braver enemies.
Nor marvel ye, nor think it to their shame,
If soon they stagger’d, and gave way, and fled,
So many from so few: they saw their darts
Recoil, their lances shiver, and their swords
Fall ineffectual, blunted with the blow.
Think ye no shame of Aztlan that they fled,
When the bowmen of Deheubarth plied so well
Their shafts with fatal aim; through the thin gold,
Or feather mail, while Gwyneth’s deep-driven spears
Pierced to the bone and vitals; when they saw
The falchion, flashing late so lightning-like,
Quenched in their own life-blood. Our mountaineers
Showered from the heights, meantime, an arrowy storm,
Themselves secure; and we who bore the brunt
Of battle, iron men, impassable,
Stood in our strength unbroken. Marvel not
If then the brave felt fear, already impress’d
That day by ominous thoughts to fear akin;
For so it chanced, high heaven ordaining so,
The king, who should have led his people forth,
At the army-head, as they began their march,
Was with sore sickness stricken; and the stroke
Came like the act and arm of very God,
So suddenly, and in that point of time.
A gallant man was he, who, in his stead,
That day commanded Aztlan: his long hair,
Tufted with many a cotton lock, proclaim’d
Of princely prowess many a feat achiev’d
In many a field of fame. Oft had he led
The Aztecas, with happy fortune, forth;
Yet could not now Yuhidthiton inspire
His host with hope: he, not the less, that day,
True to his old renown, and in the hour
Of rout and ruin, with collected mind,
Sounded his signals shrill, and in the voice
Of loud reproach and anger, and brave shame,
Called on the people... But when nought avail’d,
Seizing the standard from the timid hand
Which held it in dismay, alone he turn’d,
For honourable death resolv’d, and praise
That would not die. At that the braver chiefs
Rallied; anew their signals rung around,
And Aztlan, seeing how we spared her flight,
Took heart, and roll’d the tide of battle back.
But when Cadwallon from the chieftain’s grasp
Had cut the standard-staff away, and stunn’d
And stretch’d him at his mercy on the field;
Then fled the enemy in utter rout,
Broken and quelled at heart. One chief alone
Bestrode the body of Yuhidthiton;
Bareheaded did young Malinal bestride
His brother’s body, wiping from his brow
With the shield-hand, the blinding blood away,
And dealing franticly, with broken sword,
Obstinate wrath, the last resisting foe.
Him, in his own despite, we seiz’d and sav’d.
Then, in the moment of our victory,
We purified our hands from blood, and knelt,
And poured to heaven the grateful prayer of praise,
And raised the choral psalm. Triumphant thus
To the hills we went our way” the mountaineers
With joy, and dissonant song, and antic dance;
The captives sullenly, deeming that they went
To meet the certain death of sacrifice,
Yet stern and undismay’d. We bade them know,
Ours was a law of mercy and of love;
We healed their wounds, and set the prisoners free.
Bear ye, quoth I, my bidding to your King!
Say to him, Did the Stranger speak to thee
The words of truth, and hath he proved his power?
Thus saith the Lord of Ocean, in the name
Of God, Almighty, Universal God,
Thy Judge and mine, whose battles I have fought,
Whose bidding I obey, whose will I speak;
Shed thou no more in impious sacrifice,
The life of man; restore unto the grave
The dead Tepollomi; set this people free,
And peace shall be between us.
On the morrow
Came messengers from Aztlan in reply.
Coanocotzin with sore malady
Hath, by the Gods been stricken: will the Lord
Of Ocean visit his sick bed?.. He told
Of wrath, and, as he said, the vengeance came:
Let him bring healing now, and stablish peace.
VIII.
Again, and now with better hope, I sought
The city of the King: there went with me
Iolo, old Iolo, he who knows
The virtue of all herbs of mount or vale,
Or greenwood shade, or quiet brooklet’s bed;
Whatever lore of science or of song,
Sages and Bards of old have handed down.
Aztlan that day poured forth her swarming sons,
To wait m
y coming. Will he ask his God
To stay the wrathful hand? that was the cry,
The general cry; and will he save the King?
Coanocotzin, too, had nurst that thought,
And the strong hope upheld him: he put forth
His hand, and rais’d a quick and anxious eye,..
Is it not peace and mercy?.. thou art come
To pardon and to save!
I answer’d him,
That power, O King of Aztlan, is not mine!
Such help as human cunning can bestow,
Such human help I bring; but health and life
Are in the hand of God, who at his will
Gives or withdraws; and what he wills is best.
Then old Iolo took his arm, and felt
The symptom; and he bade him have good hope,
For life was strong within him. So it prov’d:
The drugs of subtle virtue did their work;
They quell’d the venom of the malady,
And from the frame expell’d it,.. that a sleep,
Fell on the king, a sweet and natural sleep,
And from its healing he awoke refresh’d,
Though weak, and joyful as a man who felt
The peril passed away.
Ere long, we spake
Of concord, and how best to knit the bonds
Of lasting friendship. When we won this land,
Coanocotzin said, these fertile vales
Were not, as now, with fruitful groves embower’d,
Nor rich with towns and populous villages,
Abounding, as thou seest, with life and joy:
Our fathers found bleak heath and desert moor,
Wild woodland, and savannas wide and waste,
Rude country of rude dwellers. From our arms
They to the mountain fastnesses retir’d,
And long with obstinate and harassing war
Provoked us, hoping not for victory,
Yet mad for vengeance; till Tepollomi
Fell by my father’s hand; and with their king,
The strength and flower of all their youth cut off,
All in one desolating day, they took
The yoke upon their necks. What wouldest thou
That to these Hoamen I should now concede?
Lord of the Ocean, speak!
Let them be free!
Quoth I. I come not from my native isle
To wage the war of conquest, and cast out
Your people from the land which time and toil
Have rightly made their own. The World is wide:
There is enough for all. So they be freed
From that accurs’d tribute, and ye shed
The life of man no more in sacrifice,..
In the most holy name of God I say,
Let there be peace between us!
Thou hast won
Their liberty, the King replied: henceforth,
Free as they are, if they provoke the war,
Reluctantly will Aztlan raise her arm.
Be thou the peace-preserver. To what else
Thou say’st, instructed by calamity,
I lend a humble ear; but to destroy
The worship of my fathers, or abate
Or change one point, lies not within the reach
And scope of kingly power. Speak thou hereon
With those whom we hold holy, with the sons
Of the Temple, they who commune with the Gods;
Awe them, for they awe me. So we resolv’d,
That, when the bones of King Tepollomi
Had had their funeral honours, they and I
Should by the green lake-side, before the King
And in the presence of the people, hold
A solemn talk.
Then to the mountain-huts,
The bearer of good tidings, I return’d,
Leading the honourable train who bore
The relies of the King; not parch’d and black,
As I had seen the unnatural corpse stand up,
In ghastly mockery of the attitude
And act of life: his bones had now been blanch’d
With decent reverence. Soon the mountaineers
Saw the white deer-skin shroud; the rumour spread;
They gather’d round, and follow’d in our train.
Before Erillyab’s hut the bearers laid
Their burden down. She, calm of countenance,
And with dry eye, albeit her hand the while,
Shook like an agueish limb, unroll’d the shroud.
The multitude stood gazing silently,
The young and old alike all aw’d and hush’d
Under the holy feeling,.. and the hush
Was awful; that huge multitude so still,
That we could hear distinct the mountain stream
Roll down its rocky channel far away.
And this was all; sole ceremony this,
The sight of death and silence,.. till, at length,
In the ready grave his bones were laid to rest.
’Twas in her hut and home, yea, underneath
The marriage bed, the bed of widowhood,
Her husband’s grave was dug; on softest fur
The bones were laid, with fur were cover’d o’er,
Then heaped with bark and boughs, and, last of all,
Earth was to earth trod down.
And now the day,
Appointed for our talk of peace was come.
On the green margin of the lake we met,
Elders and Priests and Chiefs; the multitude
Around the circle of the council stood.
Then, in the midst, Coanocotzin rose,
And thus the King began: Pabas and Chiefs
Of Aztlan, hither ye are come to learn
The law of peace. The Lord of Ocean saith,
The Tribes whom he hath gather’d underneath
The wings of his protection shall be free;
And in the name of his great God he saith,
That ye shall never shed in sacrifice
The blood of man. Are ye content? that so
We may together here, in happy hour,
Bury the sword!
Hereat a Paba rose,
And answered for his brethren:.. He hath won
The Hoamen’s freedom, that their blood no more
Shall on our altars flow; for this the Lord
Of Ocean fought, and Aztlan yielded it
In battle: but if we forego the rites
Of our forefathers; if we wrong the Gods,
Who give us timely sun and timely showers,
Their wrath will be upon us; they will shut
Their ears to prayer, and turn away the eyes
Which watch for our well-doing, and withhold
The hands that scatter our prosperity.
Cynetha then arose; between his son
And me supported, rose the blind old man.
Ye wrong us, men of Aztlan, if ye deem
We bid ye wrong the Gods; accurst were he
Who would obey such bidding,.. more accurst
The wretch who should enjoin impiety!
It is the will of God which we make known,
Your God and ours. Know ye not Him, who laid
The deep foundations of the earth, and built
The arch of heaven, and kindled yonder sun,
And breathed into the woods and waves and sky
The power of life?
We know Him, they replied
The great For-Ever One, the God of Gods,
Ipalnemoani, He by whom we live!
And we too, quoth Ayayaca, we know
And worship the Great Spirit, who in clouds
And storms, in mountain caves and by the fall
Of waters, in the woodland solitude,
And in the night and silence of the sky,
Doth make his being felt. We also know,
And fear and worship the Beloved One.
&nbs
p; Our God, replied Cynetha, is the same,
The Universal Father. He to the first
Made his will known; but, when men multiplied,
The Evil Spirits darken’d them, and sin
And misery came into the world, and men
Forsook the way of truth, and gave to stocks
And stones the incommunicable name.
Yet with one chosen, one peculiar Race,
The knowledge of their Father and their God
Remained, from sire to son transmitted down.
While the bewildered Nations of the earth
Wandered in fogs, and were in darkness lost,
The light abode with them; and, when at times
They sinned and went astray, the Lord hath put
A voice into the mouths of holy men,
Raising up witnesses unto himself,
That so the saving knowledge of his name
Might never fail; nor the glad promise, given
To our first parent, that at length his sons,
From error, sin, and wretchedness redeem’d,
Should form one happy family of love.
Nor ever hath that light, howe’er bedimm’d,
Wholly been quench’d; still in the heart of man
A feeling and an instinct it exists,
His very nature’s stamp and privilege,
Yea, of his life the life. I tell ye not,
O Aztecas! of things unknown before;
I do but waken up a living sense
That sleeps within ye! Do ye love the Gods
Who call for blood? Doth the poor sacrifice
Go with a willing step to lay his life
Upon their altars?.. Good must come of good,
Evil of evil: if the fruit be death,
The poison springeth from the sap and root,
And the whole tree is deadly; if the rites
Be evil, they who claim them are not good,
Not to be worshipp’d then; for to obey
The evil will is evil. Aztecas!
From the For-Ever, the Beloved One,
The Universal, Only God, I speak,
Your God and mine, our Father and our Judge.
Hear ye his law,.. hear ye the perfect law
Of love: “Do ye to others as ye would
That they should do to you!” He bids us meet,
To praise his name, in thankfulness and joy;
He bids us, in our sorrow, pray to him,
The Comforter. Love him, for he is good!
Fear him, for he is just; obey his will,
Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 62