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 bound. 1565
His form, to curl their length, and curb their sound,
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 where That passage led; nor lamp nor guard were there: 1570 He sees a dusky glimmering-shall he seek
Or shun that ray so indistinct and weak?
Chance guides his steps-a freshness seems to bear
Full on his brow, as if from morning air-
He reach'd an open gallery-on his eye
Gleam'd the last star of night, the clearing sky:
Yet scarcely heeded these-another light
From a lone chamber struck upon his sight.
Towards it he moved, a scarcely closing door
Reveal'd the ray within, but nothing more.
With hasty step a figure outward past,
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 not kill!"
Again he look'd, the wildness of her eye
Starts from the day abrupt and fearfully.
She stopp'd-threw back her dark far-floating hair,
That nearly veil'd her face and bosom fair:
As if she late had bent her leaning head
Above 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-'tis blood!
He had seen battle-he had brooded lone
O'er promised pangs to sentenced guilt foreshown;
He had been tempted--chasten'd-and the chain
Yet 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 cheek!
Blood he had view'd, could view unmov'd, but then
It flow'd in combat, or was shed by men !
""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!
"Our bark is tossing, 'tis already day.
"The few gain'd over, now are wholly mine,
"And these thy yet surviving band shall join :
"Anon my voice shall vindicate my hand,
"When once our sail forsakes this hated strand."
She clapp'd her hands, and through the gallery pour,
Equipp'd for flight, her vassals-Greek and Moor; 1616
Silent but quick they stoop, his chains unbind;
Once more his limbs are free as mountain wind!
But on his heavy heart such sadness sate,
As if they there transferr❜d that iron weight.
No words are utter'd--at her sign, a door
Reveals the secret passage to the shore;
The city lies behind, they speed, they reach
The glad waves dancing on the yellow beach;
And Conrad following, at her beck, obey'd,
Nor cared he now if rescued or betray'd;
Resistance were as useless as if Seyd
Yet lived to view the doom his ire decreed.
Embark'd, the sail unfurl'd, the light breeze blew— How much had Conrad's memory to review!
Sunk he in contemplation, till the cape
Where last he anchor'd rear'd its giant shape.
Ah!-since that fatal night, though brief the time,
Had swept an age of terror, grief, and crime.
As its far shadow frown'd above the mast,
He veil'd his face, and sorrow'd as he past;
He thought of all, Gonsalvo and his band,
His fleeting triumph and his failing hand;
He thought on her afar, his lonely bride:
He turn'd and saw---Gulnare, the homicide!
She watch'd his features till she could not bear
Their freezing aspect and averted air,
And that strange fierceness foreign to her eye,
Fell quench'd in tears, too late to shed or dry.
She knelt beside him and his hand she prest,
"Thou may'st forgive, though Alla's self detest;
"But for that deed of darkness what wert thou?
"Reproach me, but not yet, Oh! spare me now!
"I am not what I seem, this fearful night
"My brain bewilder'd, do not madden quite!
"If I had never loved, though less my guilt,
"Thou hadst not lived to hate me if thou wilt."
She wrongs his thoughts, they more himself upbraid
Than her, though undesign'd, the wretch he made;
But speechless all, deep, dark, and unexprest,
They bleed within that silent cell---his breast.
Still onward, fair the breeze, nor rough the surge,
The blue waves sport around the stern they urge;
Far on the horizon's verge appears a speck,
A spot, a mast, a sail, an armed deck!
Their little bark her men of watch descry,
And ampler canvass woos the wind from high;
She bears her down majestically near,
Speed on her prow,
and terror in her tier; A flash is seen---the ball beyond their bow Booms harmless, hissing to the deep below. Up rose keen Conrad from his silent trance, A long, long absent gladness in his glance; ""Tis mine, my blood-red flag! again, again, "I am not all deserted on the main !"
They own the signal, answer to the hail,
Hoist out the boat at once, and slacken sail.
""Tis Conrad! Conrad!" shouting from the deck,
Command nor duty could their transport check!
With light alacrity and gaze of pride,
They view him mount once more his vessel's side;
A smile relaxing in each rugged face,
Their arms can scarce forbear a rough embrace.
He, half forgetting danger and defeat,
Returns their greetings as a chief may greet,
Wrings with a cordial grasp Anselmo's hand,
And feels he yet can conquer and command!
These greetings o'er, the feelings that o'erflow,
Yet grieve to win him back without a blow;
They sail'd prepared for vengeance--had they known
A woman's hand secured that deed her own, 1686
She were their queen-less scrupulous are they
Than haughty Conrad how they win their way.
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