The King reluctant yields. Now in the court 76 Paws with impatient hoof the barbed steed; Now yawn the sombre portals of the fort; Creaks the hoarse drawbridge;--now the walls are freed. Through dun woods hanging o'er the ocean tide, Glimmers the steel, and gleams the angel-guide. An opening glade upon the headland's prow 77 Sudden admits the ocean and the day. Lo! the waves cleft before the gilded prow, Where the tall war-ship, towering, sweeps to bay. Why starts the King?--High over mast and sail, The Saxon Horse rides ghastly in the gale! Grateful to heaven, and heaven's plumed messenger, 78 He raised his reverent eyes, then shook the rein: Bounded the barb, disdainful of the spur, Clear'd the steep cliff, and scour'd along the plain. Still, while he sped, the swifter wings that lead Seem to rebuke for sloth the swiftening steed. Nor cause unmeet for grateful thought, I ween, 79 Had the good King; nor vainly warn'd the bird; Nor idly fled the steed; as shall be seen, If, where the Vandal and his friend conferr'd, Awhile our path retracing, we relate What craft deems guiltless when the craft of state. "Sire," quoth Astutio, "well I comprehend 80 Your cause for grief; the seedsman breaks the ground For the new plant; new thrones that would extend Their roots, must loosen all the earth around; For trees and thrones no rule than this more true, What most disturbs the old best serves the new. "Thus all ways wise to push your princely son 81 Under the soil of Cymri's ancient stem; And if the ground the thriving plant had won, What prudent man will plants that thrive condemn? Sir, in your move a master hand is seen, Your well play'd bishop caught both tower and queen." "And now checkmate!" the wretched sire exclaims, 82 With watering eyes, and mouth that water'd too. "Nay," quoth the sage; "a match means many games, Replace the pieces, and begin anew. You want this Cymrian's crown--the want is just."-- "But how to get it?"--"Sir, with ease, I trust. "The witch is married--better that than burn 83 (A well-known text--to witches not applied); But let that pass:--great sir, to Anglia turn, And mate your Vandal with a Saxon bride. Her dower," cried Ludovick, "the dower's the thing." "The lands and sceptre of the Cymrian King." Then to that anxious sire the learned man 84 Bared the large purpose latent in his speech; O'er Britain's gloomy history glibly ran; Anglia's new kingdoms, he described them each; But most himself to Mercia he addresses, For Mercia's king, great man, hath two princesses!