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Reflected in fantastic figures grew,
'Twas midnight-all was slumber; the lone light
Cold as the marble where his length was laid,
Some half form'd threat in utterance there had died, Some imprecation of despairing pride;
220 His eye was almost seal'd, but not forsook, Even in its trance the gladiator's look, That oft awake his aspect could disclose, And now was fix'd in horrible repose. [speaks, They raise him--bear him ;---hush! he breathes, he The swarthy blush recolours in his cheeks, 226 His lip resumes its red, his eye, though dim, Rolls wide and wild, each slowly quivering limb Recalls its function, but his words are strung, In terms that seem not of his native tongue; 230 Distinct but strange, enough they understand To deem them accents of another land, And such they were, and meant to meet an ear That hears him not---alas! that cannot hear!
XIV. His page approach'd, and he alone appear’d 233 To know the import of the words they heard; And, by the changes of his cheek and brow, They were not such as 'Lara should avow, Nor he interpret, yet with less surprise Than those around their chieftain's state he eyes, 240 But Lara's prostrate form he bent beside, And in that tongue which seem'd his own replied, And Lara heeds those tones that gently seem To sooth away the horrors of his dream;
If dream it were, that thus could overthrow
XV. Whate'er his phrensy dream'd or eye beheld, If yet remember'd ne'er to be reveald, Rests at his heart: the custom'd morning came, And breathed new vigour in his shaken frame; 250 And solace sought he none from priest nor leech, And soon the same in movement and in speech As heretofore he filld the passing hours, Nor less he smiles, nor more his forehead lours Than these were wont; and if the coming night 255 Appear'd less welcome now to Lara's sight, He to his marvelling vassals show'd it not, Whose shuddering proved their fear was less forgot. In trembling pairs (alone they dared not) crawl The astonish'd slaves, and shun the fated hall; 260 The waving banner, and the clapping door, The rustling tapestry, and the echoing floor; The long dim shadows of surrounding trees, The flapping bat, the night song of the breeze; Aught they behold or hear their thought appals, 265 As evening saddens o’er the dark gray walls.
Vain thought! that hour of ne'er unravell’d gloom
A seeming of forgetfulness, that made
fix'd Too deep for words, indelible, unmix'd In that corroding secrecy which gnaws The heart to show the effect, but not the cause ? Not so in him; his breast had buried both, 285 Nor common gazers could discern the growth Of thoughts that mortal lips must leave half told ; They choke the feeble words that would unfold.
In him inexplicably mix'd appear'd
What had he been? what was he, thus unknown, 295