Thou led'st me here
perchance
to kill;
If thou hast cause for vengeance, see!
If thou hast cause for vengeance, see!
Byron
But were it not that high command
Spake in his eye, and tone, and hand, 630
All that a careless eye could see
In him was some young Galiongee. [162]
X.
"I said I was not what I seemed;
And now thou see'st my words were true:
I have a tale thou hast not dreamed,
If sooth--its truth must others rue.
My story now 'twere vain to hide,
I must not see thee Osman's bride:
But had not thine own lips declared
How much of that young heart I shared, 640
I could not, must not, yet have shown
The darker secret of my own.
In this I speak not now of love;
That--let Time--Truth--and Peril prove:
But first--Oh! never wed another--
Zuleika! I am not thy brother! "
XI.
"Oh! not my brother! --yet unsay--
God! am I left alone on earth
To mourn--I dare not curse--the day[gi]
That saw my solitary birth? 650
Oh! thou wilt love me now no more!
My sinking heart foreboded ill;
But know _me_ all I was before,
Thy sister--friend--Zuleika still.
Thou led'st me here perchance to kill;
If thou hast cause for vengeance, see!
My breast is offered--take thy fill!
Far better with the dead to be
Than live thus nothing now to thee:
Perhaps far worse, for now I know 660
Why Giaffir always seemed thy foe;
And I, alas! am Giaffir's child,
For whom thou wert contemned, reviled.
If not thy sister--would'st thou save
My life--Oh! bid me be thy slave! "
XII.
"My slave, Zuleika! --nay, I'm thine:
But, gentle love, this transport calm,
Thy lot shall yet be linked with mine;
I swear it by our Prophet's shrine,[gj]
And be that thought thy sorrow's balm. 670
So may the Koran[163] verse displayed
Upon its steel direct my blade,
In danger's hour to guard us both,
As I preserve that awful oath!
The name in which thy heart hath prided
Must change; but, my Zuleika, know,
That tie is widened, not divided,
Although thy Sire's my deadliest foe.
My father was to Giaffir all
That Selim late was deemed to thee; 680
That brother wrought a brother's fall,
But spared, at least, my infancy!
And lulled me with a vain deceit
That yet a like return may meet.
He reared me, not with tender help,
But like the nephew of a Cain;[164]
He watched me like a lion's whelp,
That gnaws and yet may break his chain.
My father's blood in every vein
Is boiling! but for thy dear sake 690
No present vengeance will I take;
Though here I must no more remain.