Else vainly had I pray'd or sought the chance That leads me here if eyed with vigilance : The careless guard that did not see me fly,
May watch as idly when thy power is nigh: Pacha! - my limbs are faint — and nature craves Food for my hunger, rest from tossing waves:
Permit my absence With all around!
-peace be with thee! Peace now grant repose
- release." Stay, Dervise! I have more to question - stay, I do command thee - sit dost hear? obey! More I must ask, and food the slaves shall bring; Thou shalt not pine where all are banqueting : thee to reply,
The supper done Clearly and full
'T were vain to guess what shook the pious man, Who look'd not lovingly on that Divan; Nor show'd high relish for the banquet prest, And less respect for every fellow guest. 'T was but a moment's peevish hectic past Along his cheek, and tranquillised as fast: He sate him down in silence, and his look Resumed the calmness which before forsook: The feast was usher'd in- but sumptuous fare He shunn'd as if some poison mingled there. For one so long condemn'd to toil and fast, Methinks he strangely spares the rich repast. "What ails thee, Dervise? eat- dost thou suppose This feast a Christian's? or my friends thy foes? Why dost thou shun the salt? that sacred pledge, Which, once partaken, blunts the sabre's edge, Makes even contending tribes in peace unite, And hated hosts seem brethren to the sight!
"Salt seasons dainties and my food is still The humblest root, my drink the simplest rill; And my stern vow and order's (1) laws oppose To break or mingle bread with friends or foes; It may seem strange - if there be aught to dread, That peril rests upon my single head;
But for thy sway - nay more thy Sultan's throne, I taste nor bread nor banquet - save alone; Infringed our order's rule, the Prophet's rage To Mecca's dome might bar my pilgrimage."
(1) The dervises are in colleges, and of different orders, as the monks.
"Well- as thou wilt- ascetic as thou art One question answer; then in peace depart, How many? - Ha! it cannot sure be day? What star what sun is bursting on the bay? It shines a lake of fire! -away- away!
Ho! treachery! my guards! my scimitar! The galleys feed the flames and I afar! Accursed Dervise!-these thy tidings - thou Some villain spy seize - cleave him
Up rose the Dervise with that burst of light, Nor less his change of form appall'd the sight: Up rose that Dervise- not in saintly garb, But like a warrior bounding on his barb, Dash'd his high cap, and tore his robe away Shone his mail'd breast, and flash'd his sabre's ray! His close but glittering casque, and sable plume, More glittering eye, and black brow's sabler gloom, Glared on the Moslems' eyes some Afrit sprite, Whose demon death-blow left no hope for fight. The wild confusion, and the swarthy glow Of flames on high, and torches from below; The shriek of terror, and the mingling yell – For swords began to clash, and shouts to swell - Flung o'er that spot of earth the air of hell! Distracted, to and fro, the flying slaves Behold but bloody shore and fiery waves; Nought heeded they the Pacha's angry cry, They seize that Dervise! seize on Zatanai !(1) He saw their terror-check'd the first despair That urged him but to stand and perish there, Since far too early and too well obey'd, The flame was kindled ere the signal made; He saw their terror from his baldric drew His bugle brief the blast-but shrilly blew; 'T is answer'd - "Well ye speed, my gallant crew! Why did I doubt their quickness of career? And deem design had left me single here?" Sweeps his long arm that sabre's whirling sway Sheds fast atonement for its first delay; Completes his fury, what their fear begun, And makes the many basely quail to one. The cloven turbans o'er the chamber spread, And scarce an arm dare rise to guard its head:
Even Seyd, convulsed, o'erwhelm'd, with rage, surprise, Retreats before him, though he still defies.
No craven he and yet he dreads the blow, So much Confusion magnifies his foe! His blazing galleys still distract his sight,
He tore his beard, and foaming fled the fight; (1) For now the pirates pass'd the Haram gate,
And burst within and it were death to wait;
Where wild Amazement shrieking- kneeling throws The sword aside in vain the blood o'erflows!
The Corsairs pouring, haste to where within, Invited Conrad's bugle, and the din
Of groaning victims, and wild cries for life, Proclaim'd how well he did the work of strife. They shout to find him grim and lonely there, A glutted tiger mangling in his lair!
But short their greeting-shorter his reply "'Tis well. but Seyd escapes
- and he must die Much hath been done but more remains to do.
Quick at the word—they seized him each a torch, And fire the dome from minaret to porch. A stern delight was fix'd in Conrad's eye, But sudden sunk for on his ear the cry Of women struck, and like a deadly knell Knock'd at that heart unmoved by battle's yell. "Oh! burst the Haram wrong not on your lives One female form - remember we have wives. On them such outrage Vengeance will repay; Man is our foe, and such 'tis ours to slay: But still we spared — mut spare the weaker prey. Oh! I forgot but Heaven will not forgive If at my word the helpless cease to live :
Follow who will — I go –
we yet have time Our souls to lighten of at least a crime."
He climbs the crackling stair-he bursts the door, Nor feels his feet glow scorching with the floor; His breath choked gasping with the volumed smoke, But still from room to room his way he broke.
A common and not very novel effect of Mussulman anger. Eugene's Memoirs, page 24. "The Seraskier received a wound in the thigh; he plucked up his beard by the roots, because he was obliged to quit the field."
they save: with lusty arms Each bears a prize of unregarded charms; Calm their loud fears; sustain their sinking frames With all the care defenceless beauty claims: So well could Conrad tame their fiercest mood, And check the very hands with gore imbrued. But who is she? whom Conrad's arms convey From reeking pile and combat's wreck Who but the love of him he dooms to bleed? The Haram - but still the slave of Seyd!
Brief time had Conrad now to greet Gulnare, (1) Few words to re-assure the trembling fair; For in that pause compassion snatch'd from war, The foe before retiring, fast and far,
With wonder saw their footsteps unpursued,
First slowlier fled - then rallied - then withstood. This Seyd perceives, then first perceives how few, Compared with his, the Corsair's roving crew, And blushes o'er his error, as he eyes The ruin wrought by panic and surprise. Alla il Alla! Vengeance swells the cry-
Shame mounts to rage that must atone or die! And flame for flame and blood for blood must tell, The tide of triumph ebbs that flow'd too well When wrath returns to renovated strife,
And those who fought for conquest strike for life. Conrad beheld the danger he beheld
His followers faint by freshening foes repell'd: "One effort - one to break the circling host!
Within a narrower ring compress'd, beset,
Hopeless, not heartless, strive and struggle yet -- Ah! now they fight in firmest file no more,
Hemm'd in cut off cleft down
But each strikes singly, silently, and home, And sinks outwearied rather than o'ercome, His last faint quittance rendering with his breath, Till the blade glimmers in the grasp of death!
But first, ere came the rallying host to blows, And rank to rank, and
(1) Gulnare, a female name; it
literally, the flower of the pomegranate.
Gulnare and all her Haram handmaids freed, Safe in the dome of one who held their creed, By Conrad's mandate safely were bestow'd, And dried those tears for life and fame that flow'd: And when that dark-eyed lady, young Gulnare, Recall'd those thoughts late wandering in despair, Much did she marvel o'er the courtesy
That smooth'd his accents; soften'd in his eye: 'T was strange · that robber thus with gore bedew'd, Seem'd gentler then than Seyd in fondest mood, The Pacha woo'd as if he deem'd the slave Must seem delighted with the heart he gave; The Corsair vow'd protection, soothed affright, As if his homage were a woman's right.
nay, worse for female Yet much I long to view that chief again ; If but to thank for, what my fear forgot,
my loving lord remember'd not! "
And him she saw, where thickest carnage spread, But gather'd breathing from the happier dead; Far from his band, and battling with a host That deem right dearly won the field he lost, Fell'd-bleeding - baffled of the death he sought, And snatch'd to expiate all the ills he wrought; Preserved to linger and to live in vain,
While Vengeance ponder'd o'er new plans of pain, And stanch'd the blood she saves to shed again But drop for drop, for Seyd's unglutted eye Would doom him ever dying- ne'er to die! Can this be he? triumphant late she saw, When his red hand's wild gesture waved, a law! 'Tis he indeed disarm❜d but undeprest,
His sole regret the life he still possest;
His wounds too slight, though taken with that will, Which would have kiss'd the hand that then could kill. Oh were there none, of all the many given,
To send his soul he scarcely ask'd to heaven? Must he alone of all retain his breath,
Who more than all had striven and struck for death?
He deeply felt - what mortal hearts must feel, When thus reversed on faithless fortune's wheel, For crimes committed, and the victor's threat Of lingering tortures to repay the debt
« ForrigeFortsæt » |