No More Learning

"

"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 throbbed each vein--each thought--till then withstood;
Her own dark soul--these words at once subdued: 1280
She totters--falls--and senseless had the wave
Perchance but snatched her from another grave;
But that with hands though rude, yet weeping eyes,
They yield such aid as Pity's haste supplies:[hw]
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. 1290

IV.

In that wild council words waxed warm and strange,[hx]
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 formed 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[230]
Stern Seyd, still pondering o'er his Captive's fate; 1300
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,[231]
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! 1310
His doom is fixed--he dies; and well his fate
Was earned--yet much too worthless for thy hate:
Methinks, a short release, for ransom told[hy]
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--he were then an easier prey;
But once cut off--the remnant of his band
Embark their wealth, and seek a safer strand. " 1320

"Gulnare! --if for each drop of blood a gem
Where offered 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 redeemed a single hour,
But that I know him fettered, in my power;
And, thirsting for revenge, I ponder still
On pangs that longest rack--and latest kill. " 1330

"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, 1340
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. [hz]
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, 1350
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.