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" This hour we part! my heart foreboded this; There, in its centre, a sepulchral lamp
Thus ever fade my fairy dreams of bliss. Burns the slow fiame, eternal_but unseen;
This hour-it cannot be—this hour away! Which not the darkness of despair can damp,
Yon bark hath hardly anchor'd in the bay: Though rain its ray as it had never been. Her consort still is absent, and her crew
Have need of rest before they toil anew: 3.
My love! thou mock'st my weakness; and wouldst
steel * Remember me-Oh! pass not thou my grave Without one thought whose relics there recline : But trifle now no more with my distress,
My breast before the time when it must feel ; The only pang my bosom dare not brave
Such mirth hath less of play than bitterness Must be to find forgetfulness in thine.
Be silent, Conrad !-dearest! come and share
The feast these hands delighted to prepare, 4.
Light toil! to cull and dress thy frugal fare ! " My fondest-faintest-latest accents hear See, I have pluck'd the fruit that promised best,
Grief for the dead not Virtue can reprove; And where note, perplexed, but pleas'd, I guess'd Then give me all I ever ask'da tear,
At such as seem the fairest: thrice the hill The first-last-sole reward of so much love !” My steps have wound to try the coolest rill;
Yes! thy sherbet to-night will sweetly flow, He pass'd the portal-cross'd the corridore, See how it sparkles in its vase of snow! And reach'd the chamber as the strain gave o'er; The grapes' gay juice thy bosom never cheers; “My own Medora ! sure thy song is sad" Thou more than Moslem when the cup appears:
Think not I mean to chide-for I rejoice “In Conrad's absence wouldst thou have it glad? What others deem a penance is thy choice. Without thine ear to listen to my lay,
But come, the board is spread ; our silver lamp Still must my song my thoughts, my soul betray: Is trimm'd, and heeds not the Sirocco's damp: Still must each accent to my bosom suit,
Then shall my handmaids while the time along, My heart unhush'd-although my lips were mute! And join with me the dance, or wake the song; Oh! many a night on this lone couch reclined, Or my guitar, which still thou lov'st to hear, My dreaming fear with storms hath wing'd the wind, Shall sooth or lull—or, should it rex thine ear, And deem'd the breath that faintly fann'd thy sail We'll turn the tale, by Ariosto told, The murmuring prelude of the ruder gale; Of fair Olympia loved and left of old.! Though soft, it seem'd the low prophetic dirge, Why-thou wert worse than he who broke his vow That mourn'd thee floating on the savage surge;
To that lost damsel, shouldst thou leave me now;
" Again-again-and oft again-my love!
If there be life below, and hope above, My Conrad ! learn the joys of peace to share?
The time of parting with redoubled wing: Sure thou hast more than wealth, and many a home
The why—the where—what boots it now to tell ? As bright as this invites is not to roam;
Since all must end in that wild word-farewell! Thou know'st it is not peril that I fear,
Yet would I fain--did time allow-disclose-
Fear not-these are no formidable foes ;
And here shall watch a more than wonted guard,
For sudden siege and long defence prepared : How strange that heart, to me so tender still,
Nor be thou lonely-though thy lord's away, Should war with nature and its better will!"
Our matrons and thy handmaids with thee stay;
And this thy comfort—that, when next we meet, Yea, strange indeed--that heart hath long been changed ;
Security shall make repose more sweet. Worm-like 'twas trampled-adder-like avenged,
List 'tis the bugle-Juan shrilly blew
One kiss-one more another-Oh! Adieu ! ” Without one hope on earth beyond thy love, And scarce a glimpse of mercy from above. Yet the same feeling which thou dost condemn, She roseghe sprung-she clung to his embrace, My very love to thee is hate to them,
Till his heart heaved beneath her hidden face.. So closely mingling here, that disentwined, He dared not raise to his that deep-blue eye, I cease to love thee when I love mankind : Which downcast droop'd in tearless agony. Yet dread not this the proof of all the past Her long fair hair lay floating o'er his arms, Assures the future that my love will last;
In all the wildness of dishevell’d charms; But-Oh, Medora! nerve thy gentle heart, Scarce beat that bosom where his image dwelt This hour again—but not for long-we part." So full-that feeling seem'd almost unfelt!
Hark-peals the thunder of the signal-gun! | Than there his wonted statelier step renew;
All these he wielded to command assent:
But where he wish'd to win, so well unbent, * And is he gone?"-on sudden solitude
That kindness cancell'd fear in those who heard, How oft that fearful question will intrude! And others' gifts show'd mean beside his word, " 'Twas but an instant past--and here he stood ! When echo'd to the heart as from his own And now"-without the portal's porch she rush'd, His deep yet tender melody of tone: And then at length her tears in freedom gush'd; But such was foreign to his wonted mood, Big-bright-and fast,unknown to her they fell; He cared not what he soften'd, but subdued ; But still her lips refused to send Farewell !” The evil passions of his youth had made For in that word--that fatal word-howe'er Him value less who loved-than what obey'd. We promise-hope-believe--there breathes despair. O'er every feature of that still, pale face, Had sorrow fix'd what time can ne'er erase:
XVII. The tender blue of that large loving eyc
Around him mustering ranged his ready guard, Grew frozen with its gaze on vacancy,
Before him Juan stands—" Are all prepared ?" Till-Oh, how far !-it caught a glimpse of him, And then it flow'd-and frenzied seem'd to swim “ They are-nay more-embark'd: the latest boat Through those long, dark, and glistening lashes Waits but my chief" dew'd
"My sword, and my capote." With drops of sadness oft to be rencw'd.
Soon firmly girded on, and lightly slung, “He's gone!"-against her heart that hand is His belt and cloak were o'er his shoulders flung: driven,
“Call Pedro here !” He comes and Conrad bends, Convulsed and quick--then gently raised to heaven; With all the courtesy he deign'd his friends; She look'd and saw the hearing of the main; “ Receive these tablets, and peruse with care, The white sail set-she dared not look again; Words of high trust and truth are graven there; But turn'd with sickening soul within the gate Double the guard, and when Anselmo's bark “ It is no dream-and I am desolate!”
Arrives, let him alike these orders mark :
In three days (serve the breeze) the sun shall shine XVI.
On our return-till then all peace be thine!” From crag to crag descending-swiftly sped This said, his brother Pirate's hand he wrung. Stern Conrad down, nor once he turn’d his head ; Then to his boat with haughty gesture sprun But shrunk whene'er the windings of his way Flash'd the dipt oars, and sparkling with the 8: oke, Forced on his eye what he would not survey, Around the waves' phosporico brightness broke; His lone, but lovely dwelling on the stoep, They gain the vessel-on the deck he stands, That hail'd him first when homeward from the deep : Shrieks the shrill whistle-ply the busy hands And she the dim and melancholy star,
le marks how well the ship her helm obeys, Whose ray of beauty reach'd him from afar, How gallant all her crew-and deigns to praise. On her he must not gaze, he must not think, His eyes of pride to young Gonsalvo turnThere he might rest--but on Destruction's brink; Why doth he start, and inly seem to mourn? Yet, once almost he stopp'd-and nearly gave Alas! those eyes beheld his rocky tower, His fate to chance, his projects to the wave; And live a moment o'er the parting hour; But no--it must not bema worthy chief
She-his Medora-did she mark the prow? May melt, but not betray to woman's grief. Ah! never loved he half so much as now! Le sees his bark, he notes how fair the wind, But much must yet be done ere dawn of dayInd sternly gathers all his might of mind: Again he mans himself and turns away; Again he hurries on--and as he hears
Down to the cabin with Gonsalvo bends, The clang of tumult vibrate on his ears,
And there unfolds his plan-his means and ends, The busy sounds, the bustle of the shore,
Before them burns the lamp, and spreads the chart, The shout, the signal, and the dashing oar; And all that speaks and aids the naval art; As marks his eye the scaboy on the mast, They to the midnight watch protract debate ; The anchors rise, the sails unfurling fast, To anxious eyes what hour is ever late ? The waving kerchiefs of the crowd that urge Meantime, the steady breeze serenely blew, That mute adieu to those who stem the surge ; And fast and falcon-Iike the vessel flew; And more than all, his blood-red flag aloft, Pass'd the high headlands of each clustering isle, He marveli'd how his heart could seem so soft. To gain their port-long-long ere morning smile: Fire in his glance, and wildness in his breast, , And soon the night-glass through the narrow bay He feels of all his former self possest;
Discovers where the Pacha's galleys lay. He bounds--he flies-until his footsteps reach Count they each sail—and mark how there supine The verge where ends the cliff, begins the beach, The lights in vain o'er heedless Moslem shine. There checks his speed; but pauses less to breathe Secure, unnoted, Conrad's prow pass'd by, The breezy freshness of the deep beneath, And anchor'd where his ambush meant to lie;
"Conosceste i Jubiosi desiri?"
Screen'd from espial by the jutting cape,
Bows his bent head-his hand salutes the floor,
His arms were folded on his dark-green vest,
Vow'd to his God-his sable locks he wore,
And these his lofty cap rose proudly o'er :
Before the Pacha's will allow'd to speak.
“Whence com'st thou, Dervise?”
“ From the outlaw's den,
Thy capture where and when?"
“ From Scalanovo's port to Scio's isle,
The Saick was bound; but Alla did not smile
Upon our course the Moslem merchant's gains
The Rovers won : our limbs have worn their chains,
I had no death to fear, nor wealth to boast,
Beyond the wandering freedom which I lost;
At length a fisher's humble boat by night
Afforded hope, and offer'd chance of flight:
I seized the hour and find my safety here-
With thee-most mighty Pacha! who can fear?"
Dream they of His our preparation, doom'd
To view with fire their scorpion nest consumed?"
“Pacha! the fetter'd captive's mourning eye, Unless some gay caprice suggests the blow,
That weeps for flight, but ill can play the spy;
I only heard the reckless waters roar,
Those waves that would not bear me from the shore
Too bright-too blue-for my captivity ;
Must break my chain before it dried my tears.
This may'st thou judge, at least, from my escape,
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
“Stay, Dervise ! I have more to question-stay, And revellers may more securely sleep
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:
The supper done-prepare thee to reply,
Clearly and full-I love not mystery.”
"Twere vain to guess what shook the pious man, III.
Who look'd not lovingly on that Divan; With cautious reverence from the outer gate, Nor show'd high relish for the banquet prest Slow stalks the slave, whose office there to wait, And less respect for every fellow guest.
'Twas but a moment's peevish hectic past The cloven turbans o'er the chamber spread,
He tore his beard, and foaming fled the fight; 9
Of groaning victims, and wild cries for life, “Salt seasons dainties—and my food is still Proclaim'd how well he did the work of strife The humblest 100t, my drink the simplest rill; They shout to find him grim and lonely there, And my stern vow and order's ? laws oppose A glutted tiger mangling in his lair ! To break or mingle bread with friends or foes ; But short their greeting-shorter his replyIt may seem strange if there be aught to dread, “ 'Tis well—but Seyd escapes—and he must die That peril rests upon my single head;
Much hath been done but more remains to do But for thy sway--nay more-thy Sultan's throne, Their galleys blaze-why not their city too ?": I taste nor bread nor banquet-save alone; Iufringed our order's rule, the Prophet's rage
V. To Mecca's dome might bar my pilgrimage.”
Quick at the word-they seized him each a torch,
And fire the dome from minaret to porch. " Well-as thou wilt-ascetic as thou artOne question answer ; then in peace depart.
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 Ho! treachery! my guards ! my scimitar!
One female form-remember-we have wives.
On them such outrage Vengeance will repay;
Man is our foe, and such 'tis ours to slay : Some villian spy-seize-cleave him-slay him now!"
But still we spared-must 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 But like a warrior bounding on his barb,
Our souls to lighten of at least a crime.” Dash'd his high cap, and tore his robe away
He climbs the crackling stair-he bursts the door, Shone his mail'd breast, and flash'd his sabre's ray! Ilis breath choked gasping with the volumed smoke,
Nor feels his feet glow scorching with the floor ; His close but glittering casque, and sable plume, More glittering eye, and black brow's sabler gloom, But still from room to room his way he broke. Glared on the Moslems' eyes some Afrit sprite,
They search-they find-they save : with lusty arms, Whose demon death-blow left no hope for fight.
Each bears a prize of unregarded charms; The wild confusion, and the swarthy glow
Calm their loud fears ; sustain their sinking frame Of flames on high and torches from below;
With all the care defenceless beauty claims : The shriek of terror, and the mingling yell
So well could Conrad tame their fiercest mood, For swords began to clash, and shouts to swell,
And check the very hands with gore imbrued.
But who is she? whom Conrad's arms convey
From reeking pile and combat's wreck-awayBehold but bloody shore and fiery waves ;
Who but the love of him he dooms to bleed? Nought heeded they the Pacha's angry cry,
The Haram queen-but still the slave of Seyd! They sieze that Dervise !-seize on Zatanai ! 8 He saw their terror-check'd the first despair
VI. That urged him but to stand and perish there, Brief time had Conrad now to greet Gulnare, in Since far too early and too well obey'd,
Few words to reassure the trembling fair ;
The ruin wrought by panic and surprise.
And flame for flame and blood for blood must tell, Still in his stern and self-collected mien
Though faint with wasting toil and stiffening wound,
Though the far shouting of the distant crowd, His followers faint by freshening foes repellid: Their tremors o'er, rose insolently loud, "One effort-one-to break the circling host!" The better warriors who beheld him near, They form-unite-charge-waver-all is lost! Insulted not the foe who taught them fear; Within a narrower ring compress’d, beset, And the grim guards that to his durance led, Hopeless, not heartless, strive and struggle yet- In silence eyed him with a secret dread. Ah! now they fight in firmest file no more, Hemind in-cut off-cleft down and trampled o'er;
To-morrow--yea-to-morrow's evening sun
Will sinking see impalement's pangs begun,
And rising with the wonted Llush of morn
Behol And rank to rank, and hand to hand oppose,
how well or ill those pangs are borne. Gulnare and all her Haram handmaids freed,
Of torments this the longest and the worst,
Which adds all other agony to thirst,
That day by day death still forbears to slake,
“Oh! water-water!”-smiling Hate denies And when that dark-eyed lady, young Gulnare, Recall'd those thoughts late wandering in despair, This was his doom :--the Leech, the guard, were
The victim's prayer-for if he drinks—he dies.
I Twas strange-that robber thus with gore bedew'd, And left proud Conrad fetter'd and alone. Seem'd gentler then than Seyd in fondest mood.
X. The Pacha woo'd as if he deem'd the slave
'Twere vain to paint to what his feelings grew Must seem delighted with the heart he gave;
It even were doubtful if their victim knew. The Corsair vow'd protection, soothed affright,
There is a war, a chaos of the mind, As if his homage were a woman's right.
When all its elements convulsed-combined "The wish is wrong-nay, worse for female-vain : Yet much I long to view that chief again;
Lie dark and jarring with perturbed force, If but to thank for, what my fear forgot,
And gnashing with impenitent Remorse ;
That juggling fiend who never spake beforeThe life-my loving lord remember'd not!"
But cries “I warn’d thee!” when the deed is o'er.
Vain voice! the spirit burning but unbent,
May writhe-rebel-the weak alone repent !
Ambition's dreams expiring, love's regret, While Vengeance ponder'd o'er new plans of pain, Endanger'd glory, life itself beset; And stanch'd the blood she saves to shed again The joy untasted, the contempt or hate But drop by drop, for Seyd's unglutted eye 'Gainst those who fain would triumph in our fate; Would doom him ever dying-ne'er to die ! The hopeless past, the hasting future driven Can this be he? triumphant late she saw,
Too quickly on to guess if hell or heaven; When his red hand's wild gesture waved, a law! Deeds, thoughts, and words, perhaps remember'd not 'Tis be indeed-disarm'd but undepress'd, So keenly till that hour, but ne'er forgot; His sole regret the life he still possess'd;
Things light or lovely in their acted time, His wounds too slight, though taken with that will, But now to stern reflection each a crime; Which would have kiss'd the hand that then could The withering sense of evil unreveal’d, kill.
Not cankering less because the more conceal'dOh were there none, of all the many given, All, in a word, from which all eyes must start, To send his soul-he scarcely ask'd to heaven? That opening scpulchre--the naked heart Must he alone of all retain his breath,
Bares with its buried woes, till Pride awake, Who more than all had striven and struck for death? To snatch the mirror from the soul and break. He deeply felt—what mortal hearts must feel, Ay—Pride can veil, and Courage brave it all, When thus reversed on faithless fortune's wheel, All-all-beforebeyond-the deadliest fall. For crimes committed, and the victor's threat Each hath some fear, and he who least betrays, Of lingering tortures to repay the debt- The only hypocrite deserying praise : He deeply, darkly felt; but evil pride
Not the loud recreant wretch who boasts and flies That led to perpetrate--now serves to bide. But he who looks on death and silent dics