Canto X

Now sinks the day, and gloomy steals the night :
(Ah ! now no more, as once, in pure content,
Heart meeting heart, with friends and lovers spent;)
Gloomy she came, and from her clouded height
Her darkest covering o'er the island flung :
Where now, no more, awaken'd echo sung,
From solemn stillness rais'd, the lay of morn ;
There, reft of all he loves, a wretch forlorn,
In patience stills his soul, by hopeless misery wrung!

Titania hears him, wrapt in misty air,
From the far wood in long deep pauses sigh :
She sees the wretch in silent anguish die,
And weeps, and flies away in mute despair.
In vain warm sympathies her soul expand :
In vain she ventures near — a viewless hand
Still drives her back — yet, as she leaves the shore,
Her last long look that rolls the island o'er
Darts on a ring of gold that glitters on the sand.

Reft from Amanda's hand, the ring unseen
Dropt as she struggled with the pirate train;
And as Titania seizes it again,
How beat the bosom of the fairy queen !
" Hail ! talisman ! by elf and spright ador'd !
" Soon shall our fate be full, to love restor'd
" We shall again our nuptial promise plight !
" This once united, shall again unite,
" And crown thee, O belov'd ! once more my sov'reign lord!"

Meanwhile the 'crew, to hated life again
Amanda's fleeting spirit back recalls :
Before her feet the captain lowly falls,
And prays th' unheeding mourner to restrain
The piercing sighs and tears, that night and day
Down her wan cheek in ceaseless currents stray —
" Thank thy good stars ! how kind beyond all thought !
" I, lucky instrument, their will have wrought :
" Pass some few transient hours, we bow beneath thy sway.

" We bow thy slaves, thy orders to fulfil :
" Almansor, grac'd himself with charms like thine,
" Alone is worthy of that form divine.
" Thy beauty, fairest maid ! shall mould his will :
" Thou, too, with mutual joy the king wilt hail,
" And list, delighted, to his tender tale," —
He speaks : and to remove suspicious fear,
All that might rouse the sense of wo severe,
To shroud her charms from sight presents a gorgeous veil.

" He dies!" his fiery lips aloud exclaim,
Destruction in his air, and thundering sound !
" He dies ! this arm shall fell him to the ground,
" Who dares with ruffian hand, and impious aim
" To violate this consecrated veil !
" Slaves ! for your lives let none due homage fail :
" This destin'd jewel shall Almansor grace :
" Let no rash foot profane this hallow'd place."
Then leaves her, bowing low, with servile visage pale.

Rezia, who heard not what the pirate said,
Mute, motionless, her soul by misery rent,
Her lifeless hand before her forehead bent,
Rests on her knee-propt arm her drooping head:
With fixt and tearless eye, with bloodless cheek,
And pangs beyond the pow'r of grief to speak,
Her noble heart too weak to bear the wo.
She bears it not, but sinks beneath the blow :
Sinks, yet without complaint, in hopeless patience meek.

She looks around for help : none, none to save !
But void, but hopeless, but substantial night,
Dark as her soul is all that meets her sight :
The world is chang'd into a murderer's cave.
She lifts her eye to heaven — its gloom appals,
No angel there, as once, lost hope recalls,
She hovers o'er the brink of deep despair.
One friend alone is left to succour there,
There death yet stands alone, and props her as she falls.

Death, pitying stretches forth his meagre hand,
Last, truest friend of all the heirs of wo :
With ready pace she sinks with him below,
And willing seeks the silent shadowy land,
Where every pang is mute, no cares complain,
Where spirits rove ungall'd by earthly chain :
Where worldly scenes like childish dreams depart,
And nought is left but our immortal heart.
How blest ! whate'er she lov'd in death to meet again !

Like a mute suffering bloodless lamb she lies,
And sighing, waits the period of her doom :
When in the stillness of the midnight gloom
Titania, breathing solace, o'er her flies,
And sooths her agonies to still repose.
And while soft slumb'rous dews her eyelids close,
And steep the senses in oblivious rest,
In robe of roseate light the fairy drest,
Amid enchanting dreams in radiant beauty glows.

" Arise ! be comforted ! thy lord, thy boy,
" Yet breathe, though hid from thee, the vital air :
" They are not lost ! — arise from dark despair !
" Look on these features, recogniz'd with joy :
" When, for the third time seen by thee again,
" You loose stern Oberon's oath — you end our pain:
" Then shall your life, like ours, be pure delight." —
She spoke ; and vanishes away from sight :
Yet from her roseate crown fresh fragrant airs remain.

The mourner wakes— and from the fragrant breath
And rosy light that gradually subside,
Recalls the form that, smiling by her side,
(The guardian angel in the cave of death),
Had freed her from her painful pleasing weight.
Touch'd by her care, with grateful heart elate,
Rezia this pledge of fairy grace receives,
Yet, yet they live ! her glowing heart believes ;
And, anchor'd on that hope, defies the storms of fate.

Blest in her ignorance, she knew it not—
Ah ! had she known, how her unfriended lord
Had past the dreadful night, with seven-fold cord
Bound to an oak on that deserted spot,
She sure had died — arid he, before whose rays
All darkness fades, the guardian god, delays :
While on a heav'n crown'd mountain's cloudless brow,
That shades the sources of old Nile below,
He drinks the balmy gale that round its summit plays.

The fairy king with look unbending cast,
Fixes, where Huon droops, his mournful eye,
While from that distance heard, his lowest sigh
In sad vibration fann'd him as it past :
Now on the morning star he turns his view,
And answering groan with groan from sight withdrew:
Then, of the spirits, that from fairy ground,
Or singly, or in groups, their king surround,
A fay the most belov'd, near pensive Oberon drew.

Pale, without pomp, the fairy softly steals,
Mute views him, in his eye alone exprest
The tender wish to know what heav'd his breast :
Respectful love his tongue in silence seals.
" Look up!" the monarch cries — th' astonish'd spright
Views in a cloud, whose pinions, dark as night,
Cast, as they slowly sail'd, a baleful shade,
Poor Huon's miserable form displayed,
As from a polish'd glass, reflected on his sight.

Sunk in the night of unexampled grief,
Drain'd with deep wounds warm bleeding from his heart,
No soothing friend a solace to impart,
No gleam of hope to point afar relief,
Huon with lingering martyr-death decays :
Yet in this state stern thoughts his spirit raise,
Indignant feelings that augment the gloom —
" Did I — did Rezia, then, deserve this doom ?
" Or bleed we while stern Heav'n in sportive malice plays ?

" How ! at my wos all peaceful as before !
" How tranquill all ! unpitying of my pain :
" No being feels with me— no viewless grain,
" No not a grain of sand upon the shore
" Stirs from its place ! From off the woodland glade
" No not a leaflet falls a wretch to aid !
" A little flint would cut with ease the band ;
" No, not in all creation, not a hand
" Will deign to move a flint— die ! wretch ! by all betray'd !

" Yet, if thou didst but will it, thou ! whose aid
" Unhop'd, has sav'd me oft when most distrest,
" Didst thou but will, my soul would sink to rest,
" Each twig that trembles in the woodland shade
" Would at a wink, transform'd beneath thy sight,
" Stretch forth a guardian hand !"— Celestial light
Swift vibrates, as he spoke, through every bone :
His bands at once are loos'd — he tumbles prone,
Safe in the viewless arms of some protecting spright.

The gentle fay, who in that dreadful hour
Saw in the hovering cloud poor Huon's shade,
Now o'er him stretch'd unseen his guardian aid.
Such horrid scenes the son of light o'erpow'r :
At Oberon's feet he falls opprest with wo —
" And canst thou, (pointing to the passing show,)
" Canst thou, alas ! who once so fondly lov'd,
" Thus from thy friend, though guilty, turn unmov'd?
" While hopeless of relief, he bleeds beneath the blow ?"

' Blind to futurity earth's children stray,'
The king replies. ' Ourselves, each fay and spright,
' Are slaves, thou know'st, to fate's resistless might!—
' In holy gloom high o'er us winds his way,
' All go, where'er his secret influence draws :
' Willing, or not, all own that ruling cause.
' And, in the depth of this abyss unknown,
' That parts me from the knight, one hope alone,
' One hope alone is left by fate's eternal laws.

' Haste ! thy fleet course to yonder island wing:
' Bear the poor wretch from that abandoned spot,
' To Tunis bear, before the lowly cot
Of aged Ibrahim, gard'ner of the king.
' Speed through the paths of air his viewless way :
Then on a bank of stones the wanderer lay
Close by the cottage door. Quick ! leave the place,
But fly unseen along th' ethereal space,
Nor ever to his ear a soothing sound convey.

The fairy bows, and vanishing from sight,
Swift as a beam of day to Huon flies :
Loos'd with a touch the seven-fold cord unties,
And on his shoulders lifts th' astonish'd knight :
O'er land and ocean speeds his pathless way,
And lights at Ibrahim's cot ere break of day :
Then shakes him from his back, and rests his head
Soft as on down upon a grassy bed,
While tranc'd as in a dream the knight enchanted lay.

He looks astonish'd round — doubt, dreads to know :
Strange scenes unknown his soul with wonder shake.
Where am I ? inly cries, and fears to wake —
Meanwhile an early cock begins to crow,
And soon a second echoes, and a third.
Rous'd labour answers to the calling bird :
The golden gates of morning open wide,
The god of light goes forth in radiant pride,
All lives and moves around, and day's loud hum is heard.

The door now creaks — a lathy man appears
With silver hair, but on his cheek the rose
Still freshly bloom'd ; with spade in hand he goes.
Both see and doubt alike, mid hopes and fears-
Sir Huon views his aged trusty 'squire
Step from the cottage door in slave attire :
And Sherasmin beholds the honoured knight,
Him whom he wept as dead, before his sight :
Yet, ah ! his air and mien no cheerful thought inspire.

" Is't possible ?" alike each loudly calls —
" Here meet we, my best master?' " Here, my friend ?
" Here meet, where hope for ever seem'd to end?"
The 'squire half wild with joy before him falls,
And clasps the prince's knee with friendly glow,
While on his hand warm tears of rapture flow :
And Huon bends his liegeman to embrace,
Kisses his cheek, and lifts him from the place,
" Thank Heaven !" the old man cries, " now, now you live, I know.

" What lucky wind has blown you to this shore ?
" Yet, as I hold for chat this open spot
" But little fit, so come within my cot,
" There we may safely talk the subject o'er —
" Come, ere they chance to see, or overhear :
" At all events (he whispers in his ear)
" You are my nephew, one who long'd to roam ;
" Hassan your name, Aleppo is your home :
" 'Scap'd, barely 'scap'd with life, a merchant shipwreck'd here."

" Yes, nothing left to me, but life alone,"
Says Huon, sighing — ' life, by wo opprest !'
" All will be well again — here safely rest !
Good Sherasmin replies with cheerful tone,
And opes his little chamber — in they go —
" There, take your place :" and from the cupboard row
Brings a clean plate, and on it neatly spread
His choicest dainties, olives, wine, and bread :
Sits by his side, and cries, " Be gay, nor brood on

" Bethink thee, my best master ! after all
" The blows and buffets of that scurvy jade,
" Strange whims and freaks by sportive fortune play'd,
" To find ourselves, unhop'd, by Tunis' wall,
" Here at the gard'ner's door, 'tis sure a sign
" That Oberon unseen, by aid divine,
" Will bring us all together safe and sound :
" The best yet fails — she, too, will soon be found :
Pledge of Amanda's life, the nurse, at least, is thine."

" What say'st thou ? ' cries Sir Huon, ' in this place ? '
" Yes, slave to Ibrahim, that very Turk,
" For whom I daily drudge in hireling work.
" How will she feast her eyes upon your face ! "— -
Then he begins minutely to relate
His various wanderings from their earliest date,
The difficulties conquer'd, dangers run ;
And what had tempted him, the work undone,
From Paris to return, to try again his fate.

How he at Rome, for many an anxious week,
Had sought him, clay by day in misery past :
How that his scanty treasure fail'd at last !
And then, throughout the world, his trace to seek,
How he with staff and cockle-shell array'd,
Through half the globe his pilgrim way had pray'd:
And that at last kind fortune deigu'd to guide,
Where he and Fatma jostled side by side,
Both bound to wait till chance more prosperous times display'd.

" My cot the casket luckily contains
" Untouch'd ; kind present, which on holy land
" Came from the beauteous dwarf's protecting hand.
" For, as I see, alas ! no trace remains
" Of horn of ivory, and that bowl of gold.
" Pardon ! — I probe the sore with touch too bold —
" I popt it out too quick — 'twas rashly said —
" But thus to find thee ! it o'erpowers my head :
" You know my heart— no more — your liegeman as of old."

The knight his liegeman's hand in ardour prest,
Smiles on his honest friend, and kind replies —
' I know thy truth, thy heart abhors disguise —
' All thou shalt hear, from first to last confest :
' But chiefly now, with friendly service aid :
' That precious casket with rich gems inlaid,
' Were it not best to change its brilliant show
' For steeds and knightly arras to face the foe,
' That we again may roam, in warlike trim array'd.

' Twelve hours are scarcely over, since a band,
A pirate crew, from these unweapon'd arms
' Dragg'd to their ship Amanda's struggling charms,
' Lone as we roam'd along the dreary strand.
' 'Chance, to these lands their prey the pirates bear,
' To Fez, or to Morocco, here or there,
' Wherever beauty bears the highest rate —
' There will I shield her from disastrous fate :
' Rezia throughout the world my sole and ceaseless care,'

The squire in silence ponders o'er and o'er—
" Where you and Rezia dwelt, that barbarous coast,
" Is it, indeed, some few fleet hours at most,
" But little distant from old Ibrahim's door ?"—
" I know not — here myself at once I found :
' Perhaps a thousand hours have circled round.
' More swift than thought I flew wide ocean o'er,
' Born by some spirit from the woodland shore,
' Where lone I died away in lingering torture bound.'

" That, doubtless, Oberon, our friend has done" —
" In him I firmly trust,' replies the knight :
' And sure by this he deigns his faith to plight.
' The fay will kindly end the work begun.
' Though sad to live in this divided stale,
' Though dire that image of severest fate,
' Amanda fiercely grasp'd by pirate bands ;
' This miracle with joy my soul expands,
' And hope and beav'nly trust new life, new soul create.

' He must be wholly artless, wholly stone,
' To him no spark of sense or feeling giv'n,
' A wretch unworthy that protecting heaven
' Should o'er him stretch its arm, in wonders shown,
' Who, had he seen, how glorious to behold !
' But half the wonders I have seen unfold,
' Could stoop to entertain a doubt or fear—
' Lead on, where'er it may, my dark career,
' Through fire and flood, alike, firm hope and faith I hold.

' But now, if possible, my dearest friend !
' If it be possible, this very day
' Buy me a sword and steed — time flies away,
' Too long unmark'd by fame my years descend:
' Once sweetly past, indeed, by Rezia's side !
' But in this void, thus sever'd from my bride,
' How stagnates, like a swamp, my sleepy blood,
' Till I have sav'd her from the heathen brood !
' A moment may at once her fate and mine decide !'

The old man swears that not with him shall rest
The blame, if chance he fail, ere day retires
To gratify the warriour's warm desires :
But unforeseen mischance his zeal represt :
Alas ! ere yet expected evening came,
Down sunk poor Huon's grief-exhausted frame,
O'erpower'd by trials, blows succeeding blows,
He throbs mid burning pangs without repose,
And on his sleepless eye wild fev'rous visions flame.

The images which start before his sight,
Vain brood of fancy, glow like real life :
He thinks he struggles in the deadly strife
With numerous foes, and maddens in the fight.
Now powerless faints — now clasps with icy arms
His son's dead body — now with wild alarms
Buffets the flood, and by the border holds
Sunk Rezia's floating robe — in sev'n-wrcath'd folds
Now strives, while pirates grasp her bruis'd-and bleeding charms.

Half wild with rage and anguish, from his bed
He leaps with haggard look — Th' experienc'd skill
Of Sherasmin avail'd to sooth the ill.
The 'squire, in days of chivalry, was bred
As well to heal, as to inflict the wound :
He from his sire, wise leach of art profound,
To many a drug and potent herb was heir:
And learnt from knights and wizards secrets rare,
Taught him from time to time, where'er he journey'd round.

When dim-discern'd upon the heavenly steep
Glimmers the star of morn, away he wends,
(While careful Fatma on her lord attends,
And all is mute and sunk in peaceful sleep),
To cull, best-gather'd in the dewy hour,
The lenient simple, herb, and opiate flower ;
(A holy man at Horeb taught their use)
And presses them and forms a mingled juice,
Whose sov'reign balm subdues the fever's utmost pow'r.

Bath'd in soft dew, on Huon's tranquil brow,
Soother of wo, propitious sleep descends,
While o'er his couch unwearied friendship bends ;
Life's temperate streams in equal current flow.
And now with strength renew'd, and spirits gay,
When nature freshens in the moonlight ray,
Beneath her silver beams in slave attire,
Provided for him by his trusty 'squire,
Amid the Harem bow'rs Sir Huon winds his way.

Not yet his step, from many an opening rose,
Nigh to the cot, had brush'd the pearly tear,
When with quick pace behold the nurse appear ;
Who to the harem oft in secret goes
From time to time, to fish out something new :
She brings a tale whose lightest words subdue,
More soft than opiate drop, the fever's rage ;
New brace the nerves, and troublous thoughts assuage —
" Knight! your Amanda lives, and lives not for from you!"

" Where is she, where?' cries Huon, while the glow
Of hot impatience crimson'd on his cheek —
" Where didst thou see her ? — speak, dear Fatma ! speak — '
" See her ! — I said not that, dear master ! no —
" But, Sir! I bring no tale of idle fame —
" Trust me, this evening here Amanda came:
" With patience hear th' adventure newly told,
" Hear what Salome deign'd but now unfold,
" Who late the harem left, a shrewd and trusty dame.

" But now, ere close of day, (Salome said,)
" A ship was in the offing seen to ride,
" With bird-like swiftness darting through the tide,
" Fresh o'er the wave the fav'ring sea-breeze play'd,
"At once, beneath a pure and cloudless sky,
" Zigzag the vollied lightning burst from high ;
" And instant as the storm began to rave,
" Amid the billows of the boiling wave
" The ship, a sheet of flame, flash'd horrour on the eye.

" None strive to quench the flame with effort vain:
" More fiercely round them roars its fiery breath;
" Whoe'er can spring, to 'scape devouring death
" Leaps from the jaws of hell, in hopes to gain
" The pinnace to the burning vessel bound :
" The whirlwinds loose it eddying round and round,
" And while the crew now near and nearer reach,
" And touch, with outstretch'd arm, the neighb'ring beach,
" The boat mid surging waves sinks in the deep profound.

" In vain to Mahomet they shriek aloud —
" While death each bosom fills with wild alarm,
" And desperate efforts tire each laboring arm,
" In vain, they struggle with th' infuriate flood —
" One, one alone, at that terrific hour,
" The while resistless waves their prey devour,
" Fav'rite of partial heaven, is seen to glide,
" As in a car of triumph o'er the tide,
" And land, with robe scarce wet, as touch'd by vernal show'r.

" With lov'd Almansaris the sultan stood,
" Upon a terrace, whose aerial brow
" O'erlook'd the sea that beat its base below,
" And watch'd the issue of the warring flood.
" There as they gaz'd, kind zephyrs fann'd the air
" That tow'rds them softly blew the floating fair.
" Yet still mistrustful of the work of chance,
" Almansor points, an hundred slaves advance,
" And from the roaring waves the matchless beauty bear.

" 'Tis said the sultan hastened to the beach,
" And to the fair one, (whom a sturdy slave
" Bore on his shoulders from the surgy wave)
" Himself in person deign'd his arm to reach.
" None what he whisper'd could distinctly hear,
" Tho' oft with courteous speech he sooth'd her ear ;
" But sure his smile her peerless charms confest,
" And in his glowing eye all view'd exprest,
" A look, that more than words, portray'd warm love sincere.

" Be this, Sir, as it may, at least believe
" That sly Almansaris, once fav'rite fair,
" Greets the sweet stranger with most courteous air,
" And specious tales that flatter to deceive ;
" Tho', at first view, her charms and lovely mien,
" Such as Almansor's eye had never seen,
" Inflam'd at once his fascinated heart —
" Moreover, Sir, the stranger lives apart,
" The summer-house is hers, once destin'd for the queen.'"

Now while she speaks, joy, anguish, pleasure, pain,
On Huon's changeful visage Fatma views,
Distinctly mark'd in passion's glowing hues.
'Tis Rezia sure !— not truth itself more plain :
The more he weighs the wonders, one by one,
The more he thinks it certain as the sun,
That Oberon, though viewless, deigns to guide
His destin'd path, and o'er his fate preside —
' Well, then, your counsel, friends! say, what shall now be done ?'

" To force Amanda from the sultan's pow'r,
" Not Roland's self had ever dar'd advise ;
" Too rash th' adventure," Sherasmin replies —
" Yet let us guard against the trying hour ;
" And now with secret arms ourselves provide,
" 'Gainst every chance that may, or not, betide.
" But try, Sir ! first, if art may haply aid,
" And, since it shame you not to use a spade,
" Here bow to daily work, in Ibrahim's service ply'd.

" Grant that the man at first look somewhat cool,
" That his wise noddle many a scruple make,
" Let not such trifles, Sir ! your courage shake :
" A sparkling diamond shall his doubts o'er-rule.
" This task, without a fear, to me resign,
" Spite of his scruples. Sir ! the man is mine—
" Let Sherasmin alone : ere early morn,
" A gard'ner's apron shall your limbs adorn ;
" And time, and fav'ring Heav'n, shall aid the just design."

The new device finds favour in his sight,
And all succeeds, at once completely done ;
The aged Ibrahim is quickly won,
And for his nephew owns th' adopted knight :
His sister's son, from fam'd Damascus' bowers,
Skill'd in the care and management of flow'rs —
In short, within the harem garden plac'd,
With new investiture Sir Huon grac'd,
Gladly accepts the charge, and waits propitious hours.