And little fear from infant’s force; | |
Besides, adoption as a son | |
265 | By him whom Heaven accorded none, |
Or some unknown cabal, caprice, | |
Preserved me thus; – but not in peace: | |
He cannot curb his haughty mood, | |
Nor I forgive a father’s blood. | |
XVI | |
270 | ‘Within thy father’s house are foes; |
Not all who break his bread are true: | |
To these should I my birth disclose, | |
His days, his very hours were few: | |
They only want a heart to lead, | |
275 | A hand to point them to the deed. |
But Haroun only knows or knew | |
This tale, whose close is almost nigh: | |
He in Abdallah’s palace grew, | |
And held that post in his Serai | |
280 | Which holds he here – he saw him die: |
But what could single slavery do? | |
Avenge his lord? alas! too late; | |
Or save his son from such a fate? | |
He chose the last, and when elate | |
285 | With foes subdued, or friends betray’d, |
Proud Giaffir in high triumph sate, | |
He led me helpless to his gate, | |
And not in vain it seems essay’d | |
To save the life for which he pray’d. | |
290 | The knowledge of my birth secured |
From all and each, but most from me; | |
Thus Giaffir’s safety was ensured. | |
Removed he too from Roumelie | |
To this our Asiatic side, | |
295 | Far from our seats by Danube’s tide, |
With none but Haroun, who retains | |
Such knowledge – and that Nubian feels | |
A tyrant’s secrets are but chains, | |
From which the captive gladly steals, | |
300 | And this and more to me reveals: |
Such still to guilt just Alla sends – | |
Slaves, tools, accomplices – no friends! | |
XVII | |
‘All this, Zuleika, harshly sounds; | |
But harsher still my tale must be: | |
305 | Howe’er my tongue thy softness wounds, |
Yet I must prove all truth to thee. | |
I saw thee start this garb to see, | |
Yet is it one I oft have worn, | |
And long must wear: this Galiongée, | |
310 | To whom thy plighted vow is sworn, |
Is leader of those pirate hordes, | |
Whose laws and lives are on their swords; | |
To hear whose desolating tale | |
Would make thy waning cheek more pale: | |
315 | Those arms thou see’st my band have brought, |
The hands that wield are not remote; | |
This cup too for the rugged knaves | |
Is fill’d – once quaff’d, they ne’er repine: | |
Our prophet might forgive the slaves; | |
320 | They’re only infidels in wine. |
XVIII | |
‘What could I be? Proscribed at home, | |
And taunted to a wish to roam; | |
And listless left – for Giaffir’s fear | |
Denied the courser and the spear – | |
325 | Though oft – Oh, Mahomet! how oft! – |
In full Divan the despot scoff’d, | |
As if | |
Refused the bridle or the brand: | |
He ever went to war alone, | |
330 | And pent me here untried – unknown; |
To Haroun’s care with women left, | |
By hope unblest, of fame bereft, | |
While thou – whose softness long endear’d, | |
Though it unmann’d me, still had cheer’d – | |
335 | To Brusa’s walls for safety sent, |
Awaited’st there the field’s event. | |
Haroun, who saw my spirit pining | |
Beneath inaction’s sluggish yoke, | |
His captive, though with dread resigning, | |
340 | My thraldom for a season broke, |
On promise to return before | |
The day when Giaffir’s charge was o’er. | |
‘Tis vain – my tongue can not impart | |
My almost drunkenness of heart, | |
345 | When first this liberated eye |
Survey’d Earth, Ocean, Sun, and Sky, | |
As if my spirit pierced them through, | |
And all their inmost wonders knew! | |
One word alone can paint to thee | |
350 | That more than feeling – I was Free! |
E’en for thy presence ceased to pine; | |
The World – nay, Heaven itself was mine! | |
XIX | |
‘The shallop of a trusty Moor | |
Convey’d me from this idle shore; | |
355 | I long’d to see the isles that gem |
Old Ocean’s purple diadem: | |
I sought by turns, and saw them all; | |
But when and where I join’d the crew, | |
With whom I’m pledged to rise or fall, | |
360 | When all that we design to do |
Is done, ’t will then be time more meet | |
To tell thee, when the tale’s complete. | |
XX | |
‘Tis true, they are a lawless brood, | |
But rough in form, nor mild in mood; | |
365 | And every creed, and every race, |
With them hath found – may find a place: | |
But open speech, and ready hand, | |
Obedience to their chief’s command; | |
A soul for every enterprise, | |
370 | That never sees with Terror’s eyes; |
Friendship for each, and faith to all, | |
And vengeance vow’d for those who fall, | |
Have made them fitting instruments | |
For more than ev’n my own intents. | |
375 | And some - and I have studied all |
Distinguish’d from the vulgar rank, | |
But chiefly to my council call | |
The wisdom of the cautious Frank – | |
And some to higher thoughts aspire, | |
380 | The last of Lambro’s1 patriots there |
Anticipated freedom share; | |
And oft around the cavern fire | |
On visionary schemes debate, | |
To snatch the Rayahs | |
385 | So let them ease their hearts with prate |
Of equal rights, which man ne’er knew; | |
I have a love for freedom too. | |
Ay! let me like the ocean-Patriarch | |
Or only know on land the Tartar’s home! | |
390 | My tent on shore, my galley on the sea, |
Are more than cities and Serais to me: | |
Borne by my steed, or wafted by my sail, | |
Across the desert, or before the gale, | |
Bound where thou wilt, my barb! or glide, my prow! | |
395 | But be the star that guides the wanderer, Thou! |
Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my bark; | |
The Dove of peace and promise to mine ark! | |
Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife, | |
Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life! | |
400 | The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, |
And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray! | |
Blest – as the Muezzin’s strain from Mecca’s wall | |
To pilgrims pure and prostrate at his call; | |
Soft – as the melody of youthful days, | |
405 | That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise; |
Dear – as his native song to Exile’s ears, | |
Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears. | |
For thee in those bright isles is built a bower | |
Blooming as Aden | |
410 | A thousand swords, with Selim’s heart and hand, |
Wait – wave – defend – destroy – at thy command! | |
Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side, | |
The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride. | |
The Haram’s languid years of listless ease | |
415 | Are well resign’d for cares – for joys like these: |
Not blind to fate, I see, where’er I rove, | |
Unnumbered perils, – but one only love! | |
Yet well my toils shall that fond breast repay, | |
Though fortune frown, or falser friends betray. | |
420 | How dear the dream in darkest hours of ill, |
Should all be changed, to find thee faithful still! | |
Be but thy soul, like Selim’s, firmly shown; | |
To thee be Selim’s tender as thine own; | |
To soothe each sorrow, share in each delight, | |
425 | Blend every thought, do all – but disunite! |