14 BYRON'S

Thou hast forgot—is this a garb for flight ?

Or is that instrument more lit for fight ?”

“ Misdoubting Corsair i I have gain'd the guard,Bipe for revolt, and greedy for reward.

A single word of mine removes that chain:

"Without some aid how here could I remain?

"Well, since we met, hath sped my busy time,

If in aught evil, for thy sake the crime:

The crime—’tis none to punish those of Seyd.

That hated tyrant, Conrad—he must bleed 1I see thee shudder—but my soul is changed—Wrong’d, spurn’d, reviled—and it shall beavenged—

Accused of what till now my heart disdain’d—

Too faithful, though to bitter bondage chain'd.

Yes, smile!—but he had little cause to sneer,

I was not treacherous then —nor thou too dear.

But he has said it—and the jealous well,

Those tyranre, teasing, tempting to rebel.

Deserve the fate their fretting lips foretell.

I never loved—he bought me—somewhat high—Since with me came a heart he could not buy,

I was a slave unmurmuring: he hath said,

But for his rescue I with thee had fled.

’Twas false thou know'st—but let such augurs rue,Their words are omens Insult renders true.

Nor was thy respite granted to my prayer,

This fleeting grace was only to prepareNew torments for thy life, and my despair.

Mine too he threatens; but his dotage still"Would fain reserve me for his lordly will;

"When wearier of these fleeting charms and me,There yawns the sack—and yonder rolls the sea."What, am I then a toy for dotard’s play,

To wear but till the gilding frets away ?

I saw thee—loved thee—owe thee all—would save,If but to show how grateful is a slave.

But had he not thus menaced fame and life(And well he keeps his oaths pronounced in strife),I still had saved thee—but the Pacha spared.

Now I am all thine own—for all prepared:

Thou lovest me not—nor know’st—or but theworst.

Alas! this love—that hatred are the first—

Oh! couldst thou prove my truth, thou wouldst notstart,

Nor fear the fire that lights an Eastern heart;

’Tis now the beacon of thy safety—nowit points within the port a Mainote prow:

But in one chamber, where our path must lead,There sleeps—he must not wake—the oppressorSeyd!”

“ Girinare—Gulnare—I never felt till nowMy abject fortune, wither’d fame so low ;

Seyd is mine enemy; he swept my handFrom earth with ruthless but with open hand.

And therefore came I, in my bark of war,

To smite the smiter with the scimitar;

Such is my weapon—not the secret knife—

Who spares a woman's seeks not slumber’s life.Thine saved I gladly, Lady, not for this—

Let me not deem that mercy shown amiss.

Now fare the well—more peace he with thy breast!Night wears apace—my last of earthl 3 |jest!”

“ Best! rest! by sunrise must thy sinews shake,And thy limbs writhe around the ready stake.

I heard the order—saw—I will not see—

If thou wilt perish, I will fall with thee.

My life—my love—my hatred—all belowAre on this cast—Corsair! ’tis but a blow!

WORKS.

Without it flight were idle—how evadeHis sure pursuit? my wrongs too unrepaid,

My youth disgraced—the long, long wasted years,One blow shall cancel with our future fears;

But since the dagger suits thee less than brand,

I’ll try the firmness of a female hand.

The guards are gain'd—one moment all wereo’er—

Corsair I we meet in safety, or no more;

If errs my feeble hand, the morning cloudWill hover o’er thy scaffold and my shroud.’*

IX.

She turn’d, and vanish’d ere he could reply,

But his glance follow’d far with eager eye:

And gathering, as he could, the links that boundHis form, to curl their length, and curb theirsound,

Since bar and bolt no more his steps preclude,

He, fast as fetter’d limbs allow, pursued.

’Twas dark and winding, and he knew not whereThat passage led; nor lamp nor guard were there:He sees a dusky glimmering—shall he seekOr shun that ray so indistinct and weak ?

Chance guides his steps—a freshness seems tobear

Full on his brow, as if from morning air—

He reach’d an open gallery—on his eyeGleam’d the last star of night, the clearing skyYet scarcely heeded these—another lightFrom a lone chamber struck upon his sightTowards it he moved; a scarcely closing doorReveal’d the ray within, but nothing more.

With hasty step a figure outward pass’d,

Then paused—and turn'd—and paused—‘tis she atlast!

No poniard in that hand—nor sign of ill—

“ Thanks to that softening heart—she could notkill!”

Again he look’d, the wildness of her eyeStarts from the day abrupt and fearfully.

She stopp’d—threw back her dark far-floatinghair,

That nearly veil'd her face and bosom fair,

As if she late had bent her leaning headAbove some object of her doubt or dread.

They meet—upon her brow—unknown—forgot—Her hurrying hand had left—'twas but a spot—

Its hue was all he saw, and scarce withstood—

Oh! slight but certain pledge of crime — ’tisblood!

x.

He had seen battle—he had brooded loneO’er promised pangs to sentenced guilt foreshown;He had been tempted—chasten’d—and the chainYet on his arms might ever there remain:

But ne’er from strife—captivity—remorse—

From all his feelings in their inmost force—

So thrill’d—so shudder’d every creeping vein,

As now they froze before that purple stain.

That spot of blood, that light but guilty streak,

Had banish’d all the beauty from her check!

Blood he had view’d—could view unmoved—butthen

It flow'd in combat, or was shed by memXI.

“ ’Tis done—he nearly waked—but it is done.Corsair! he perish’d—thou art dearly won.

All words would now be vain—away—away I, Our bark is tossing—’tis already day.