V. 810 815 Quick at the word-they seized him each a torch, And fire the dome from minaret to porch. A stern delight was fix'd in Conrad's eye, But sudden sunk-for on his ear the cry Of women struck, and like a deadly knell Knock'd at that heart unmoved by battle's yell. "Oh! burst the Haram-wrong not on your lives "One female form-remember-we have wives. "On them such outrage Vengeance will repay; "Man is our foe, and such 'tis ours to slay: "But still we spared---must spare the weaker prey. "Oh! I forgot---but Heaven will not forgive "If at my word the helpless cease to live; "Follow who will---I go---we yet have time "Our souls to lighten of at least a crime." He climbs the crackling stair---he bursts the door, Nor feels his feet glow scorching with the floor; His breath choak'd gasping with the volumed smoke, But still from room to room his way he broke. They search---they find---they save: with lusty arms Each bears a prize of unregarded charms; Calm their loud fears; sustain their sinking frames With all the care defenceless beauty claims: So well could Conrad tame their fiercest mood, And check the very hands with gore inbrued. 820 826 830 But who is she? whom Conrad's arms convey VI. Brief time had Conrad now to greet Gulnare, (9) 835 For in that pause compassion snatch'd from war, With wonder saw their footsteps unpursued, First slowlier filed--then rallied-then withstood. 840 The ruin wrought by panic and surprise. Shame mounts to rage that must atone or die! 845 And those who fought for conquest strike for life. 850 His followers faint by freshening foes repell'd: 855 n-cut off--cleft down-and trampled o'er ; But each strikes singly, silently, and home, VII. 860 865 But first, ere came the rallying host to blows, 875 That smooth'd his accents; soften'd in his eye: 880 "The wish is wrong---nay worse for female---vain: "Yet much I long to view that chief again; "If but to thank for, what my fear forgot, "The life---my loving lord remember'd not!" VIII. And him she saw, where thickest carnage spread, Far from his band, and battling with a host That deem right dearly won the field he lost, (885 While Vengeance ponder'd o'er new plans of pain, 890 His sole regret the life he still possest; His wounds too slight, though taken with that will, To send his soul---he scarcely ask'd to heaven? 900 Who more than all had striven and struck for death? He deeply felt---what mortal hearts must feel, That led to perpetrate---now serves to hide. 910 A conqueror's more than captive's air is seen, Though faint with wasting toil and stiffening wound, But few that saw---so calmly gazed around: |