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1 was

of the new moon on the evening of the 8th, by every demon. stratiou of joy: but although, during this month, the strictest ahetidence is observed in the daytime, yet with the setting of the sun the feasting commences : then is the time for paying and receiving visits, and for the amusements of Turkey, parpet-shows, jugglers, dancers, and story-tellers." - HOB. BE)

[TM On the th, I was introduced to Ali Pacha. dressed in a full suit of stul uniform, with a very magnificent alte, &c. "The vizier received me in a large room paved with marble; a fountain was playing in the centre; the partment was surrounded by scarlet ottomans. He received ze standing, a wonderful compliment from a Mussulman, and made me sit down on his right hand. His first question val, why, ar to early an age, I left my country? He then said, the English minister, Captain Leake, had told him I Tas of a great fainily, and desired his respecis to my mother; which I now, in the name of Ali Pacha, present to you. He wid he was certain I was a man of birth, because I had small ears, curling hair, and little white hands. He told me to consider him as a father whilst I was in Turkey, and said he looked on me as his own 807. Indeeil, he treated me like a child, vending me almonds and sugared shierbet, fruit, and Sert neats, twenty times a day. I then after coffee and pipes retired" - B. to his Mother.]

? * Delights to mingle with the lip of youth.” – MS.]

[. Hobhouse describes the vizier as “ a short man, about fire feet five inches in height, and very fat; possessing a tery pleasing face, fair and round, with blue quick eyes, not et all settled into a Turkish gravitr." Dr. Holland happily compares the spirit which lurked under Ali's usual exterior,

to “ the fire of a stove, burning fiercely under a smooth and polished surface." When the doctor returned from Albania, in 1813, he brought a letter from the Pacha to Lord Byron. “ It is," says the poet, “ in Latin, and begins · Excellentissime, necnon Carissime,' and ends about a gun he wants made for him. He tells me that, last spring, he took a town, a hostile town, where, forty-two years ago, his mother and sisters were treated as Miss Cunegunde was by the Bulgarian cavalry. He takes the town, selects all the survivors of the exploit children, grand-children, &c., to the tune of six hundred, and has them shot before his face. So much for dearest friend.'"]

3 [The fate of Ali was precisely such as the poet anticipated. For a circumstantial account of his assassination, in February, 1822, see Walsh's Journey. His head was sent to Constantinople, and exhibited at the gates of the seraglio. As the name of Ali had made a considerable noise in England, in consequence of his negotiations with Sir Thomas Maitland, and still more, perhaps, these stanzas of Lord Byron, a merchant oi Constantinople thought it would be no bad speculation to purchase the head and consign it to a London showman; but This scheme was defeated by the piety of an old servant of the Pacha, who bribed the executioner with a higher price, and bestowed decent sepulture on the relic.]

(“ Childe Harold with the chief held colloquy,

Yet what they spake it boots not to repeat:
Converse may little charm strange ear or eye;
Albeit he rested on that spacious seat

Of Moslem luxury," &c. – MS.]
Alluding to the wreckers of Cornwall.

LXIX.

2. It came to pass, that when he did address

Oh! who is more brare than a dark Suliote. Hirself to quit at length this mountain-land, In his snowy camese and bis shazzy capote ? Combined marauders half-way barr'd egress, To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild fluck, And wasted far and near with glaive and brand; And descends to the plain like the stream from the rock. And therefore did he take a trusty band

3. To traverse Acarnania's forest wide,

Shall the sons of Chimari, who never forgive
In war well sayon'd, and with labours tannd, The fault of a friend, bid an enemy live ?
T!l he did zreet white Achelous' tide,

Let those guns so unerring such vengeance forego ?
And from his further bank Etolia's wolds espied. What mark is so fair as the breast of a foe?
LXX.

4. Where lone Ctraikey forms its circling cove, Macedonia sends forth her invincible race ; And weary waves retire to gleam at rest,

For a time they abandon the cave and the chase ; How brown the foliage of the green hill's grove, But those scarfs of blood-red shall be redder, before Nodding at midnight o'er the calm bay's breast, The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er. A: winds come whispering lightly from the west,

5. Kiving, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene: - Then the pirates of Parga that dwell by the waves, Here Harold was received a welcome guest; And teach the pale Franks what it is to be slaves,

Nor did he pass unmoved the gentle scene, [glean. Shall leave on the beach the long galley and oar, For many a joy could be from Night's soft presence And track to his corert the captive on shore. LXXI.

6.
On the smooth shore the night-fires brightly blazed, I ask not the pleasures that riches supply,
The feast was done, the red wine circling fast, 1 My sabre shall win what the feeble must buy ;
And he that unawares had there ygazed

Shall win the young bride with her long flowing hair,
With gaping wonderment had stared aghast; And many a maid from her mother shall tear.
For ere night's midmost, stillest hour was past,

7. The native revels of the troop began ;

I love the fair face of the maid in her youth, Each Palikar2 his sabre from him cast,

Her caresses shall lull me, her music shall soothe ; And bounding hand in hand, man link'd to man,

Let, her bring from her chamber the many-toned lyre, Yelling their uncouth dirge, long daunced the kirtled | And sing us a song on the fall of her sire. clan. 3 LXXII.

8. Childe Harold at a little distance stood

Remember the moment when Previsa fell, 7 And view'd, but not displeased, the revelrie,

The shrieks of the conquer'd, the conquerors' yell ; Nor hated harmless mirth, however rude :

The roofs that we fired, and the plunder we shared, In sooth, it was no vulgar sight to see

The wealthy we slaughter'd, the lovely we spared. Their barbarous, yet their not indecent, glee ;

9. And, as the flames along their faces gleam'd, I talk not of mercy, I talk not of fear; Their gestures nimble, dark eyes flashing free, He neither must know who would serve the Vizier :

The long wild locks that to their girdles stream'd, Since the days of our prophet the Crescent ne'er saw While thus in concert they this lay half sang, hall | A chief ever glorious like Ali Pashaw. scream'd : 4

10. 1.

Dark Muchtar his son to the Danube is sped, TAMBOURGI ! Tambourgi 5! tby 'larum afar

Let the yellow-hair'd 8 Giaours y view his horse-tail 10 Gives hope to the valiant, and promise of war

with dread;

(banks, All the sons of the mountains arise at the pote When his Delhis 1l come dashing in blood o'er the Chimariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote ! 6

How few shall escape froin the Muscovite ranks !

I The Albanian Mussulmans do not abstain from wine, and, indeed, very few of the others.

* Palikar, shortened when addressed to a single person, from Ilanmagi, a general name for a soldier amongst the Greeks and Albanese who speak Romaic: it means, properly, "a lad.

3 [The following is Mr. Hobhouse's animated description of this scene :-“ In the evening the gates were secured, and preparations were made for feeding our Albanians. A goat was killed and roasted whole, and four fires were kindled in the yard, round which the soldiers seated themselves in parties. After eating and drinking, the greatest part of them assembled round the largest of the fires, and, whilst ourselves and the elders of the party were seated on the ground, danced round the blaze, to their own songs, with astonishing energy. All their songs were relations of some robbing exploits. One of them, which detained them more than an hour, began thus: - When we set out from Parga, there were sixty of us:'then came the burden of the verse,

• Robbers all at Parga !

Robbers all at Parga!' “Κλεφτεις του Παργα !

Κλεφτεις ποτε Παργα ! and as they roared out this stave, they whirled round the fire, dropped, and rebounded from their knees, anil again whirled round, as the chorus was again repeated. The rippling of

the waves upon the pebbly margin where we were seated, filled up the pauses of the song with a milder, and not more monotonous music.

The night was very dark; but, by the flashes of the fires, we caught a glimpse of the woods, the rocks, and the lake, which, together with the wild appearance of the dancers, presented us with a scene that would have made a fine picture in the hands of such an artist as the author of the Mysteries of Udolpho. As we were acquainted with the character of the Albanians, it did not at all diminish our pleasure to know, that every one of our guard had been robbers, and some of them a very short time before. It was eleven o'clock before we had retired to our room, at which time the Albanians, wrapping themselves up in their capotes, went to sleep round the fires."]

· [For a specimen of the Albanian or Arnaout dialect of the Illyric, see Appendix to this Canto, Note [C].]

5 Drummer.
6 These stanzas are partly taken from different Albanese
songs, as far as I was able to make them out by the exposition
of the Albancse in Romaic and Italian.

i It was taken by storm from the French.
# Yellow is the epithet given to the Russians.
9 Infidel.
10 The insignia of a Pacha.
11 Horsemen, answering to our forlorn hope.

11.

Selictar !! unsheathe then our chief's scimitar : Tambourgi! thy 'larum gives promise of war. Ye mountains, that see us descend to the shore, Shall view us as victors, or view us no more !

LXXIII. Fair Greece ! sad relic of departed worth ! ? Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great ! Who now shall lead thy scatter'd children forth, And long accustom'd bondage uncreate ? Not such thy sons who whilome did await, The hopeless warriors of a willing doom, In bleak Thermopylæ's sepulchral strait

Oh! who that gallant spirit shall resume, Leap from Eurotas' banks, and call thee from the tomb?

LXXIV. Spirit of Freedom! when on Phyle's brow 9 Thou sat'st with Thrasybulus and his train, Couldst thou forebode the dismal hour which now Dims the green beauties of thine Attic plain ? Not thirty tyrants now enforce the chain, Bat every carle can lord it o'er thy land ; Nor rise thy sons, but idly rail in vain,

Trembling beneath the scourge of Turkish hand; From birth till death enslaved ; in word, in deed,

unmann'd.

LXXV. In all save form alone, how changed ! and who That marks the fire still sparkling in each eye, Who but would deem their bosoms burn'd anew With thy unquenched beam, lost Liberty ! And many dream withal the hour is nigh That gives them back their fathers' heritage : For foreign arms and aid they fondly sigh,

Nor solely dare encounter hostile rage, [page. Or tear their name defiled from Slavery's mournful

LXXVII.
The city won for Allah from the Giaour,
The Giaour from Othman's race again may wrest;
And the Serai's impenetrable tower
Receive the fiery Frank, her former guest; 4
Or Wahab's rebel brood, who dared divest
The prophet's 5 tomb of all its pious spoil,
May wind their path of blood along the West;

But ne'er will freedom seek this fated soil,
But slave succeed to slave through years of endless toil.

LXXVIII.
Yet mark their mirth — ere lenten days begin,
That penance which their holy rites prepare
To shrive from man his weight of mortal sin,
By daily abstinence and nightly prayer:
But ere his sackcloth garb Repentance wear,
Some days of joyaunce are decreed to all,
To take of pleasaunce each his secret share,

In motley robe to dance at masking ball,
And join the mimic train of merry Carnival.

LXXIX.
And whose more rife with merriment than thine,
Oh Stamboul 6! once the empress of their reign ?
Though turbans now pollute Sophia's shrine,
And Greece her very altars eyes in vain :
(Alas ! her woes will still pervade my strain !)
Gay were her minstrels once, for free her throng,
All felt the common joy they now must feign,

Nor oft I've seen such sight, nor heard such song, As woo'd the eye, and thrill'd the Bosphorus along. 7

LXXX.
Loud was the lightsome tumult on the shore,
Oft Music changed, but never ceased her tone,
And timely echo'd back the measured oar,
And rippling waters made a pleasant moan :
The Queen of tides on high consenting shone,
And when a transient breeze swept o'er the wave,
’T was, as if darting from her heavenly throne,

A brighter glance her form reflected gave, [lave. Till sparkling billows seem'd to light the banks they

LXXXI.
Glanced many a light caique along the foam,
Danced on the shore the daughters of the land,
Ne thought had man or maid of rest or home,
While many a languid eye and thrilling hand
Exchanged the look few bosoms may withstand,
Or gently prest, return'd the pressure still :
Oh Love ! young Love ! bound in thy rosy band,

Let sage or cynic prattle as he will, These hours, and only these, redeem Life's years of ill! direction in perfect silence, amid sea-fowl, who sat at rest upon the waters, altogether conveyed such an impression as I had never received, and probably never shall again receive, from the view of any other place." The following sonnet, by the same author, has been so often quoted, that, but for its exquisite beauty, we should not have ventured to reprint it here: " A glorious form thy shining city wore,

Mid cypress thickets of perennial green,

With minaret and golden dome between,
While thy sea softly kiss'd its grassy shore :
Darting across whose blue expanse was seen

Of sculptured barques and galleys many a score;

Whence noise was none save that of plashing oar;
Nor word was spoke, to break the calm serene.
Unheard is whisker'd boatman's hail or joke ;

Who, mute as Sinbad's man of copper, rows,
And only intermits the sturdy stroke,
When fearless gull too nigh his pinnace goes.

1, hardly conscious if I dream'd or woke,
Mark'd that strange piece of action and repose."]

LXXVI.
Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not
Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?
By their right arms the conquest must be wrought ?
Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no !
True, they may lay your proud despoilers low,
But pot for you will Freedom's altars flame.
Shades of the Helots! triumph o'er your foe!

Greece I change thy lords, thy state is still the same; Thy glorious day is o'er, but not thy years of shame.

Sword-bearer. * See some Thoughts on the present State of Greece and Turkey in the Appendix to this Canto, Notes [D] and [E].

* Phyle, which commands a beautiful view of Athens, has still considerable remains : it was seized by Thrasybulus, pre| vious to the expulsion of the Thirty.

*When taken by the Latins, and retained for several years. * Mecca and Medina were taken some dme ago by the Wahabees, a sect yearly increasing.

[Of Constantinople Lord Byron says,-“ I have seen the ruins of Athens, of Ephesus, and Delphi ; I have trasersed great part of Turkey, and many other parts of Europe, and some of Asia ; but I never beheld a work of nature or art which yielded an impression like the prospect on each side, from the Seven Towers to the end of the Golden Horn,"]

; (" The view of Constantinople," says Mr. Rose," which appeared intersected by groves of cypress (for such is the

fect of its great burial-grounds planted with these trees), its gilded domes and minarets reflecting the first rays of the sin; the deep blue sea 'in which it glassed itself,' and that sea covered with beautiful boats and barges darting in every

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