"Pacha! the day is thine; and on thy crest "Sits Triumph Conrad taken fall'n the rest! "His doom is fixed he dies: and well his fate yet much too worthless for thy "Methinks, a short release, for ransom told "With all his treasure, not unwisely sold; "Report speaks largely of his pirate- hoard "Would that of this my Pacha were the Lord! "While baffled, weakened by this fatal fray "Watched followed --- prey: "But once cut off he were then an easier the remnant of his band "Embark their wealth, and seek a safer strand." "Gulnare! if for each drop of blood a gem "Of wealth were here that gold should not redeem! "It had not now redeemed a single hour; 1330 "But that I know him fettered, in my power; 66 'And, thirsting for revenge, I ponder still "On pangs that longest rack, and latest kill." "Nay, Seyd! I seek not to restrain thy rage, "Too justly moved for mercy to assuage; "My thoughts were only to secure for thee "His riches thus released, he were not free: "Disabled, shorn of half his might and band, "His capture could but wait thy first command." "Fair suitor! to thy virtuous gratitude, "That thus repays this Giaour's relenting mood, "Which thee and thine alone of all could spare, "No doubt regardless if the prize were fair, - "My thanks and praise alike are due -now hear! "I have a counsel for thy gentler ear: "I do mistrust thee, woman! and each word "Of thine stamps truth on all Suspicion heard. 1350 "Borne in his arms through fire from yon Serai "Say, wert thou lingering there with him to fly? "Thou need'st not answer - thy confession speaks, "Already reddening on thy guilty cheeks; "Then, lovely dame, bethink thee; and beware: "Tis not his life alone may claim such care! "Another word and I need no more. nay "Accursed was the moment when he bore "Thee from the flames, which better far "Know'st thou that I can clip thy wanton wing? "In words alone I am not wont to chafe: "Look to thyself nor deem thy falsehood safe!" He rose — and slowly, sternly thence withdrew, dare. His doubts appeared to wrong nor yet she knew That strife of thought, the source of woman's wocs! This fearful interval of doubt and dread, When every hour might doom him worse than dead, When every step that echoed by the gate, Might entering lead where axe and stake await; When every voice that grated on his ear Might be the last that he could ever hear; Could terror tame that spirit stern and high Had proved unwilling as unfit to die; That conflict deadlier far than all before: 1390 The heat of fight: the hurry of the gale, To pine, the prey of every changing mood; Too late the last to shun the first to mend To count the hours that struggle to thine end, With not a friend to animate, and tell To other ears that death became thee well; 1400 Around thee foes to forge the ready lie, And blot life's latest scene with calumny; Before thee tortures, which the soul can dare, thy heaven thy loved one from thee 1010 Such were the thoughts that outlaw must sustain, And govern pangs surpassing mortal pain: And those sustained he boots it well or ill? Since not to sink beneath, is something still! VII. The first day passed- he saw not her-GulnareThe second- third- and still she came not there; But what her words avouched, her charms had done, Or else he had not seen another sun. The fourth day rolled along, and with the night Came storm and darkness in their mingling might: Oh! how he listened to the rushing deep, 1320 |