"How many warriors press the plain, Khanjer and spear have laid them low; At peace, behold our kinsmen slain,

And thou art now without a foe.

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"Then pardon what of wrong has been : Let us retire, unharm'd-unstay'd

Far from this sanguinary scene,

And take thy prize-the Arab Maid.”

Then came the father, full of grief, and said—
(Ashes and dust upon his hoary head,)
"With thee, alas! how useless to contend!
Thou art the conqueror, and to thee I bend.
Without resentment now the vanquish'd view,
Wounded and old, and broken-hearted too;
Reproach has fallen upon me, and has dared
To call me Persian-that I disregard;
For I'm an Arab still, and scorn the sneer
Of braggart fools, unused to shield and spear.
But let that pass. I now, o'ercome, and weak,
And prostrate, pardon from the victor seek:
Thy slave am I, obedient to thy will,
Ready thy sternest purpose to fulfil;

But if with Lailí I consent to part,

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Wilt thou blot out all vengeance from thy heart? 1150 Then speak at once, and thy behest declare:

I will not flinch, though it my soul may tear.

My daughter shall be brought at thy command;
Let the red flames ascend from blazing brand,
Waiting their victim, crackling in the air,
And Lailí duteously shall perish there.

Or, if thou 'dst rather see the maiden bleed,

This thirsty sword shall do the dreadful deed:
Dissever at one blow that lovely head,

Her sinless blood by her own father shed!

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In all things thou shall find me faithful, true,

Thy slave obsequious,—what wouldst have me do? But mark me; I am not to be beguiled;

I will not to a demon give my child;

I will not to a madman's wild embrace
Consign the pride and honor of my race,
And wed her to contempt and foul disgrace.
I will not sacrifice my tribe's fair fame,
Nor taint with obloquy her virtuous name.
Has honor on an Arab heart no claim?

Better be overwhelm'd by adverse fate

Than yield up honor, even for kingly state.
Through all Arabia is her virtue known;

Her beauty match'd by heavenly charms alone.

I'd rather in a monster be enshrined

Than bear a name detested by mankind.

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What! wed a wretch, and earn my country's ban! A dog were better than a demon-man.

A dog's bite heals, but human gnawings never; The festering poison-wounds remain for ever." 1180

Thus spake the father, and in Noufal's breast

Excited feelings not to be repress'd:

"I hoped to win consent," he said

"But now that anxious hope is dead,

And thou and thine may quit the field,
Still arm'd with khanjer, sword, and shield;
Horseman and elder. Thus in vain

Blood has bedew'd this thirsty plain."

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When Majnún this conclusion hears, He flies incensed to Noufal, and with tears Wildly exclaims-" The dawn, my generous friend! Promised this day in happiness would end; But thou hast let the gazelle slip away,

And me defrauded of my beauteous prey.

Near where Forát's bright stream rolls on, reclined, Staunching my wounds, hope soothed my tortured

mind,

And gave me Lailí; now that hope is cross'd,
And life's most valued charm for ever lost."

Noufal with heavy heart now homeward bent His way, and Majnún with him sorrowing went; 1200 And there again the pitying chieftain strove To calm the withering pangs of hopeless love;

To bless, with gentleness and tender care,

The wounded spirit sinking in despair:

But vain his efforts; mountain, wood, and plain, Soon heard the maniac's piercing woes again; Escaped from listening ear, and watchful eye, Lonely again in desert wild to lie.

X.

The minstrel strikes his soft guitar,

With sad forebodings pale;

And fills with song the balmy air,
And thus resumes his tale:-

The pensive bird, compell'd to cower,
From day to day in Noufal's bower,
Tired of the scene, with pinions light,

Swift as the wind has urged its flight,
And, far from Noufal's wide domain,
Enjoys its liberty again;

Pouring aloud its sad complaint

In wildest mood without restraint.

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And now remote from peopled town,
Midst tangled forest, parch'd and brown,
The maniac roams; with double speed
He goads along his snorting steed,
Till, in a grove, a sportsman's snare
Attracts his view, and, struggling there,

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Its knotted meshes fast between,
Some newly-prison'd deer are seen;
And as the sportsman forward springs
To seize on one, and promptly brings
The fatal knife upon its neck,
His hand receives a sudden check;
And looking upwards, with surprise,
(A mounted chief before his eyes!)
He stops-while thus exclaims the youth :-
"If e'er thy bosom throbb'd with ruth,
Forbear! for 'tis a crime to spill
A gazelle's blood-it bodeth ill;
Then set the pleading captive free;

For sweet is life and liberty.

That heart must be as marble hard,

And merciless as wolf or pard,

Which clouds in death that large black eye,

Beaming like Laili's, lovingly.

The cruel stroke, my friend, withhold;
Its neck deserves a string of gold.
Observe its slender limbs, the grace
And winning meekness of its face.
The musk-pod is its fatal dower,
Like beauty, still the prey of power;
And for that fragrant gift thou'rt led
The gentle gazelle's blood to shed!
O, seek not gain by cruel deed,
Nor let the innocent victim bleed."

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