Selected Poems (52 page)

He cared not what he soften’d, but subdued;

The evil passions of his youth had made

Him value less who loved – than what obey’d.

XVII

555

Around him mustering ranged his ready guard.

Before him Juan stands – ‘Are all prepared?’

‘They are – nay more – embark’d: the latest boat

Waits but my chief—’

‘My sword, and my capote.’

Soon firmly girded on, and lightly slung,

560

His belt and cloak were o’er his shoulders flung:

‘Call Pedro here!’ He comes – and Conrad bends,

With all the courtesy he deign’d his friends;

‘Receive these tablets, and peruse with care,

Words of high trust and truth are graven there;

565

Double the guard, and when Anselmo’s bark

Arrives, let him alike these orders mark:

In three days (serve the breeze) the sun shall shine

On our return – till then all peace be thine!’

This said, his brother Pirate’s hand he wrung,

570

Then to his boat with haughty gesture sprung.

Flash’d the dipt oars, and sparkling with the stroke,

Around the waves’ phosphoric
¹
brightness broke;

They gain the vessel – on the deck he stands, –

Shrieks the shrill whistle – ply the busy hands –

575

He marks how well the ship her helm obeys,

How gallant all her crew – and deigns to praise.

His eyes of pride to young Gonsalvo turn –

Why doth he start, and inly seem to mourn?

Alas! those eyes beheld his rocky tower,

580

And live a moment o’er the parting hour;

She – his Medora – did she mark the prow?

Ah! never loved he half so much as now!

But much must yet be done ere dawn of day –

Again he mans himself and turns away;

585

Down to the cabin with Gonsalvo bends,

And there unfolds his plan – his means – and ends;

Before them burns the lamp, and spreads the chart,

And all that speaks and aids the naval art;

They to the midnight watch protract debate;

590

To anxious eyes what hour is ever late?

Meantime, the steady breeze serenely blew,

And fast and falcon-like the vessel flew;

Pass’d the high headlands of each clustering isle

To gain their port – long – long ere morning smile:

595

And soon the night-glass through the narrow bay

Discovers where the Pacha’s galleys lay.

Count they each sail – and mark how there supine

The lights in vain o’er heedless Moslem shine.

Secure, unnoted, Conrad’s prow pass’d by,

600

And anchor’d where his ambush meant to lie;

Screen’d from espial by the jutting cape,

That rears on high its rude fantastic shape.

Then rose his band to duty – not from sleep –

Equipp’d for deeds alike on land or deep;

605

While lean’d their leader o’er the fretting flood,

And calmly talk’d – and yet he talk’d of blood!

Canto the Second

‘Conosceste i dubiosi desiri?’

D
ANTE
.

I

In Coron’s bay floats many a galley light,

Through Coron’s lattices the lamps are bright,

For Seyd, the Pacha, makes a feast to-night:

A feast for promised triumph yet to come,

5

When he shall drag the fetter’d Rovers home;

This hath he sworn by Alla and his sword,

And faithful to his firman and his word,

His summon’d prows collect along the coast,

And great the gathering crews, and loud the boast;

10

Already shared the captives and the prize,

Though far the distant foe they thus despise;

’Tis but to sail – no doubt to-morrow’s Sun

Will see the Pirates bound – their haven won!

Meantime the watch may slumber, if they will,

15

Nor only wake to war, but dreaming kill.

Though all, who can, disperse on shore and seek

To flesh their glowing valour on the Greek;

How well such deed becomes the turban’d brave –

To bare the sabre’s edge before a slave!

20

Infest his dwelling – but forbear to slay,

Their arms are strong, yet merciful to-day,

And do not deign to smite because they may!

Unless some gay caprice suggests the blow,

To keep in practice for the coming foe.

25

Revel and rout the evening hours beguile,

And they who wish to wear a head must smile;

For Moslem mouths produce their choicest cheer,

And hoard their curses, till the coast is clear.

II

High in his hall reclines the turban’d Seyd;

30

Around – the bearded chiefs he came to lead.

Removed the banquet, and the last pilaff -

Forbidden draughts, ’tis said, he dared to quaff,

Though to the rest the sober berry’s juice
¹

The slaves bear round for rigid Moslems’ use;

35

The long chibouque’s
²
dissolving cloud supply,

While dance the Almas
³
to wild minstrelsy.

The rising morn will view the chiefs embark;

But waves are somewhat treacherous in the dark:

And revellers may more securely sleep

40

On silken couch than o’er the rugged deep;

Feast there who can – nor combat till they must,

And less to conquest than to Korans trust;

And yet the numbers crowded in his host

Might warrant more than even the Pacha’s boast.

III

45

With cautious reverence from the outer gate

Slow stalks the slave, whose office there to wait,

Bows his bent head – his hand salutes the floor,

Ere yet his tongue the trusted tidings bore:

‘A captive Dervise from the pirate’s nest

50

Escaped, is here – himself would tell the rest.’
¹

He took the sign from Seyd’s assenting eye,

And led the holy man in silence nigh.

His arms were folded on his dark-green vest,

His step was feeble, and his look deprest;

55

Yet worn he seem’d of hardship more than years,

And pale his cheek with penance, not from fears.

Vow’d to his God – his sable locks he wore,

And these his lofty cap rose proudly o’er:

Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,

60

And wrapt a breast bestow’d on heaven alone;

Submissive, yet with self-possession mann’d,

He calmly met the curious eyes that scann’d;

And question of his coming fain would seek,

Before the Pacha’s will allow’d to speak.

IV

65

‘Whence com’st thou, Dervise?’

‘From the outlaw’s den,

A fugitive –’

‘Thy capture where and when?’

‘From Scalanovo’s port to Scio’s isle,

The Saick was bound; but Alla did not smile

Upon our course – the Moslem merchant’s gains

70

The Rovers won: our limbs have worn their chains.

I had no death to fear, nor wealth to boast,

Beyond the wandering freedom which I lost;

At length a fisher’s humble boat by night

Afforded hope, and offer’d chance of flight;

75

I seized the hour, and find my safety here –

With thee – most mighty Pacha! who can fear?’

‘How speed the outlaws? stand they well prepared,

Their plunder’d wealth, and robber’s rock, to guard?

Dream they of this our preparation, doom’d

80

To view with fire their scorpion nest consumed?’

‘Pacha! the fetter’d captive’s mourning eye,

That weeps for flight, but ill can play the spy;

I only heard the reckless waters roar,

Those waves that would not bear me from the shore;

85

I only mark’d the glorious sun and sky,

Too bright – too blue – for my captivity;

And felt – that all which Freedom’s bosom cheers,

Must break my chain before it dried my tears.

This may’st thou judge, at least, from my escape,

90

They little deem of aught in peril’s shape;

Else vainly had I pray’d or sought the chance

That leads me here – if eyed with vigilance:

The careless guard that did not see me fly,

May watch as idly when thy power is nigh:

95

Pacha! – my limbs are faint – and nature craves

Food for my hunger, rest from tossing waves:

Permit my absence – peace be with thee! Peace

With all around! – now grant repose – release.’

‘Stay, Dervise! I have more to question – stay,

100

I do command thee – sit – dost hear? – obey!

More I must ask, and food the slaves shall bring;

Thou shalt not pine where all are banqueting:

The supper done – prepare thee to reply,

Clearly and full – I love not mystery.’

105

’Twere vain to guess what shook the pious man,

Who look’d not lovingly on that Divan;

Nor show’d high relish for the banquet prest,

And less respect for every fellow guest.

‘Twas but a moment’s peevish hectic past

110

Along his cheek, and tranquillised as fast:

He sate him down in silence, and his look

Resumed the calmness which before forsook:

The feast was usher’d in – but sumptuous fare

He shunn’d as if some poison mingled there.

115

For one so long condemn’d to toil and fast,

Methinks he strangely spares the rich repast.

‘What ails thee, Dervise? eat – dost thou suppose

This feast a Christian’s? or my friends thy foes?

Why dost thou shun the salt? that sacred pledge,

120

Which, once partaken, blunts the sabre’s edge,

Makes even contending tribes in peace unite,

And hated hosts seem brethren to the sight!’

‘Salt seasons dainties – and my food is still

The humblest root, my drink the simplest rill;

125

And my stern vow and order’s
¹
laws oppose

To break or mingle bread with friends or foes;

It may seem strange – if there be aught to dread,

That peril rests upon my single head;

But for thy sway – nay more – thy Sultan’s throne,

130

I taste nor bread nor banquet – save alone;

Infringed our order’s rule, the Prophet’s rage

To Mecca’s dome might bar my pilgrimage.’

‘Well – as thou wilt – ascetic as thou art –

One question answer; then in peace depart.

135

How many? – Ha! it cannot sure be day?

What star – what sun is bursting on the bay?

It shines a lake of fire! – away – away!

Ho! treachery! my guards! my scimitar!

The galleys feed the flames – and I afar!

140

Accursed Dervise! – these thy tidings – thou

Some villain spy – seize – cleave him – slay him now!’

Up rose the Dervise with that burst of light,

Nor less his change of form appall’d the sight:

Up rose that Dervise – not in saintly garb,

145

But like a warrior bounding on his barb,

Dash’d his high cap, and tore his robe away –

Shone his mail’d breast, and flash’d his sabre’s ray!

His close but glittering casque, and sable plume,