"Nay, nay, friend Seithenyn," said the abbot, "that which I have already taken has just brought me to the point at which the heart is inspirited and the wit sharpened, without any infraction of the wisdom and gravity which become my character, and best suit my present business." Seithenyn, however, took an opportunity of making signs to some cupbearers, and, when they entered the apartment of Melvas they were followed by vessels of wine and goblets of gold. King Melvas was a man of middle age, with a somewhat round, large, regular-featured face, and an habitual smile of extreme self-satisfaction, which he could occasionally convert into a look of terrific ferocity, the more fearful for being rare. His manners were, for the most part, pleasant. He did much mischief, not for mischief's sake, nor yet for the sake of excitement, but for the sake of something tangible. He had a total and most complacent indifference to everything but his own will and pleasure. He took what he wanted wherever he could find it, by the most direct process, and without any false pretence. He would have disdained the trick which the chroniclers ascribed to Hengist, of begging as much land as a bull's hide would surround, and then shaving it into threads, which surrounded a goodly space. If he wanted a piece of land, he encamped upon it, saying, "This is mine." If the former possessor could eject him, so; it was not his : if not, so; it remained his. Cattle, wine, furniture, another man's wife, whatever he took a fancy to, he pounced upon and appropriated. He was intolerant of resistance, and, as the shortest way of getting rid of it, and not from any bloodthirstiness of disposition, or, as the phrenologists have it, development of the organ of destructiveness, he always cut through the resisting body, longitudinally, horizontally, or diagonally, as he found most convenient. He was the archmarauder of West Britain. The abbey of Avallon shared largely in the spoil, and they made up together a most harmonious church and state. He had some respect for King Arthur; wished him success against the Saxons; knew the superiority of his power to his own; but he had heard that Queen Gwenyvar was the most beautiful woman in Britain; was, therefore, satisfied of his own title to her, and, as she was hunting in the forest, while King Arthur was absent from Caer Lleon, he seized her, and carried her off. "Be seated, holy father," said Melvas; "and you also, Seithenyn, unless the abbot wishes you away." But the abbot's heart misgave him, and he assented readily to Seithenyn's stay. Melvas.-Now, holy father, to your important matter of private conference. Seithenyn. He is tongue-tied, and a cup too low. The Abbot.-Set the goblet before me, and I will sip in moderation. Melvas.-Sip, or not sip, tell me your business. The Abbot. My business, of a truth, touches the lady your prisoner, King Arthur's queen. Melvas.—She is my queen, while I have her, and no prisoner. Drink, man, and be not afraid. I will listen, and weigh your words. The Abbot.-This queen Speak your mind: Seithenyn.-Obey the king: first drink, then speak. The Abbot.-This queen, Gwenyvar, is as beautiful as Helen, who caused the fatal war that expelled our forefathers from Troy and I fear she will be a second Helen, and expel their posterity from Britain.* The infidel Saxons, to whom the cowardly and perfidious Vortigern gave footing in Britain, have prospered even more by the disunion of her princes than either by his villany or their own valour. And now there is no human hope against them but in the arms of Arthur. And how shall his arms prosper against the common enemy, if he be forced to turn them on the children of his own land for the recovery of his own wife? Melvas. What do you mean by his own? That which he has is his own: but that which I have is mine. I have the wife in question, and some of the land. Therefore, they are mine. The Abbot.-Not so. The land is yours under fealty to him. * According to the "British Chronicles," Brutus, the great grandson of Æneas, having killed his father, Silvius, to fulfil a prophecy, went to Greece, where he found the posterity of Helenus, the son of Priam; collected all of the Trojan race within the limits of Greece; and, after some adventures by land and sea, settled them in Britain, which was before uninhabited, "except by a few giants." Melvas.—As much fealty as I please, or he can force me to give him. The Abbot. His wife, at least, is most lawfully his. Melvas.-The winner makes the law, and his law is always against the loser. I am so far the winner, and, by my own. law, she is lawfully mine. The Abbot. There is a law above all human law, by which she is his. Melvas. From that it is for you to absolve me; and I dispense my bounty according to your indulgence. The Abbot.-There are limits we must not pass. Melvas.-You set up your landmark, and I set up mine. They are both movable. The Abbot.--The Church has not been niggardly in its indulgences to King Melvas. Melvas.-Nor King Melvas in his gifts to the Church. The Abbot.-But, setting aside this consideration, I would treat it as a question of policy. Seithenyn.-Now you talk sense. Right without might is the lees of an old barrel, without a drop of the original liquor. The Abbot.—I would appeal to you, King Melvas, by your love to your common country, by your love of the name of Britain, by your hatred of the infidel Saxons, by your respect for the character of Arthur; will you let your passion for a woman, even though she be a second Helen, frustrate, or even impede, the great cause of driving these spoilers from a land in which they have no right even to breathe? Melvas.-They have a right to do all they do, and to have all they have. If we can drive them out, they will then have no right here. Have not you and I a right to this good wine, which seems to trip very merrily over your ghostly palate? I got it by seizing a good ship, and throwing the crew overboard, just to remove them out of the way, because they were troublesome. They disputed my right, but I taught them better. I taught them a great moral lesson, though they had not much time to profit by it. If they had had the might to throw me overboard, I should not have troubled myself about their right, any more, or at any rate, any longer, than they did about mine. Seithenyn. The wine was lawful spoil of war. The Abbot.-But, if King Arthur brings his might to bear upon yours, I fear neither you nor I shall have a right to this wine, nor to anything else that is here. Seithenyn.—Then make the most of it while you have it. The Abbot.-Now, while you have some months of security before you, you may gain great glory by surrendering the lady; and, if you be so disposed, you may, no doubt, claim from the gratitude of King Arthur, the fairest princess of his court to wife, and an ample dower withal. Melvas. That offers something tangible. Seithenyn.-Another ray from the golden goblet will set it in a most luminous view. The Abbot.-Though I should advise the not making it a condition, but asking it as a matter of friendship, after the first victory that you have helped him to gain over the Saxons. Melvas. The worst of those Saxons is, that they offer nothing tangible, except hard knocks. They bring nothing with them. They come to take; and lately they have not taken much. But I will muse on your advice; and, as it seems I may get more by following than rejecting it, I shall very probably take it, provided that you now attend me to the banquet in the hall. Seithenyn.-Now you talk of the hall and the banquet, I will just intimate that the finest of all youths, and the best of all bards, is a guest in the neighbouring abbey. Melvas.-If so, I have a clear right to him, as a guest for myself. The abbot was not disposed to gainsay King Melvas's right. Taliesin was invited accordingly, and seated at the left hand of the king, the abbot being on the right. Taliesin summoned all the energies of his genius to turn the passions of Melvas into the channels of anti-Saxonism, and succeeded so perfectly that the king and his whole retinue of magnanimous heroes were inflamed with intense ardour to join the standard of Arthur; and Melvas vowed most solemnly to Taliesin that another sun should not set before Queen Gwenyvar should be under the most honourable guidance on her return to Caer Lleon. CHAPTER XV. THE CIRCLE OF THE BARDS. The three dignities of poetry: the union of the true and the wonderful; the union of the beautiful and the wise; and the union of art and nature.-Triads of Poetry. A MONGST the Christmas amusements of Caer Lleon, a grand Bardic Congress was held in the Roman theatre, when the principal bards of Britain contended for the pre-eminence in the art of poetry, and in its appropriate moral and mystical knowledge. The meeting was held by daylight. King Arthur presided, being himself an irregular bard, and admitted on this public occasion, to all the efficient honours of a Bard of Presidency. To preside in the Bardic Congress was long a peculiar privilege of the kings of Britain. It was exercised in the seventh century by King Cadwallader. King Arthur was assisted by twelve umpires, chosen by the bards, and confirmed by the king. The Court, of course, occupied the stations of honour, and every other part of the theatre was crowded with a candid and liberal audience. The bards sate in a circle on that part of the theatre corresponding with the portion which we call the stage. Silence was proclaimed by the herald; and after a grand symphony, which was led off in fine style by the king's harper, Geraint, Prince Cei came forward, and made a brief oration, to the effect that any of the profane who should be irregular and tumultuous, would be forcibly removed from the theatre, to be dealt with at the discretion of the officer of the guard. Silence was then a second time proclaimed by the herald. Each bard, as he stood forward, was subjected to a number of interrogatories, metrical and mystical, which need not be here reported. Many bards sang many songs. Amongst them, Prince Llywarch sang |