"Yet would I ask-almost my lip denies

"The quick your answer tell me where he lies."

66

Lady! we know not-scarce with life we fled; "But here is one denies that he is dead:

"He saw him bound; and bleeding—but alive."

She heard no further-'twas in vain to strive-
So throbb'd each vein-each thought-till then with-
stood;

Her own dark soul these words at once subdued:
She totters-falls-and senseless had the wave
Perchance but snatch'd her from another grave;
But that with hands though rude, yet weeping eyes,
They yield such aid as Pity's haste supplies :
Dash o'er her deathlike cheek the ocean dew,
Raise fan sustain-till life returns anew;
Awake her handmaids, with the matrons leave
That fainting form o'er which they gaze and grieve;
Then seek Anselmo's cavern, to report

The tale too tedious when the triumph short.

IV.

In that wild council words wax'd warm and strange,
With thoughts of ransom, rescue, and revenge;
All, save repose or flight: still lingering there
Breathed Conrad's spirit, and forbade despair;
Whate'er his fate the breasts he form'd and led
Will save him living, or appease him dead.
Woe to his foes! there yet survive a few,
Whose deeds are daring, as their hearts are true.

V.

Within the Haram's secret chamber sate

Stern Seyd, still pondering o'er his Captive's fate;
His thoughts on love and hate alternate dwell,
Now with Gulnare, and now in Conrad's cell;
Here at his feet the lovely slave reclined

Surveys his brow-would soothe his gloom of mind:
While many an anxious glance her large dark eye
Sends in its idle search for sympathy,

His only bends in seeming o'er his beads, (15)
But inly views his victim as he bleeds.

"Pacha! the day is thine; and on thy crest "Sits Triumph-Conrad taken-fall'n the rest! "His doom is fix'd-he dies: and well his fate "Was earn'd-yet much too worthless for thy hate: "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, weaken'd by this fatal fray-"Watch'd-follow'd he were then an easier prey; "But once cut off the remnant of his band "Embark their wealth, and seek a safer strand."

"Gulnare!—if for each drop of blood a gem
"Were offer'd rich as Stamboul's diadem;
"If for each hair of his a massy mine
"Of virgin ore should supplicating shine;
"If all our Arab tales divulge or dream

"Of wealth were here—that gold should not redeem! "It had not now redeem'd a single hour;

"But that I know him fetter'd, in my power;

"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."

"His capture could!—and shall I then resign "One day to him-the wretch already mine? "Release my foe! at whose remonstrance?—thine! "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. "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-nay-I need no more. "Accursed was the moment when he bore

"Thee from the flames, which better far-but-no— "I then had mourn'd thee with a lover's woe

"Now 'tis thy lord that warns-deceitful thing! "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,
Rage in his eye and threats in his adieu :
Ah! little reck'd that chief of womanhood—
Which frowns ne'er quell'd, nor menaces subdued;
And little deem'd he what thy heart, Gulnare!
When soft could feel, and when incensed could dare.
His doubts appear'd to wrong-nor yet she knew
How deep the root from whence compassion grew
She was a slave from such may captives claim
A fellow-feeling, differing but in name;
Still half unconscious-heedless of his wrath,
Again she ventured on the dangerous path,
Again his rage repell'd-until arose

That strife of thought, the source of woman's woes!

VI.

Meanwhile-long anxious-weary-still-the same Roll'd day and night his soul could never tame— This fearful interval of doubt and dread,

When every hour might doom him worse than dead,
When every step that echo'd by the gate

Might entering lead where ax 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;

'Twas worn- —perhaps decay'd—yet silent bore

That conflict deadlier far than all before :
The heat of fight, the hurry of the gale,
Leave scarce one thought inert enough to quail;
But bound and fix'd in fetter'd solitude,

To pine, the prey of every changing mood;

Το

gaze on thine own heart; and meditate Irrevocable faults, and coming fate

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;
Around thee foes to forge the ready lie,
And blot life's latest scene with calumny;
Before thee tortures, which the soul can dare,
Yet doubts how well the shrinking flesh may bear;
But deeply feels a single cry would shame,
To valour's praise thy last and dearest claim;
The life thou leav'st below, denied above
By kind monopolists of heavenly love;
And more than doubtful paradise-thy heaven
Of earthly hope thy loved one from thee riven.
Such were the thoughts that outlaw must sustain,
And govern pangs surpassing mortal pain :
And those sustain'd he-boots it well or ill?
Since not to sink beneath, is something still!

VII.

The first day pass'd he saw not her-GulnareThe second-third-and still she came not there; But what her words avouch'd, her charms had done, Or else he had not seen another sun.