36. To wander round lost Eblis' throne. 37. But first, on earth, as vampire sent. Harold, Canto 2d. I was at some pains to question the man, and he described the dresses, arms, and marks of the horses of our party so accurately, that, with other circumstances, we could not doubt of his having been in "villainous company," and ourselves in a bad neighborhood. Dervish became a soothsayer for life, and I dare say is now hearing more musketry than ever will be fired, to the great refreshment of the Arnaouts of Berat, and his naThe Vampire superstition is still general in the tive mountains.-I shall mention one trait more of Levant. Honest Tournefort tells a long story, which this singular race. In March, 1811, a remarkably Mr. Southey, in the notes on Thalaba, quotes, about stout and active Arnaout came (I believe the tenth these "Vroucolochas," as he calls them. The Ro- on the same errand) to offer himself as an attendmaic term is "Vardoulacha." I recollect a whole ant, which was declined: "Well, Affendi," quoth family being terrified by the scream of a child, he, "may you live!-you would have found me usewhich they imagined must proceed from such a visi- ful. I shall leave the town for the hills to-morrow, tation. The Greeks never mention the word with- in the winter I return, perhaps you will then receive out horror. I find that "Broucolokas" is an old me."-Dervish, who was present, remarked, as a legitimate Hellenic appellation-at least is so ap- thing of course, and of no consequence, "In the plied to Arsenius, who, according to the Greeks, mean time he will join the Klephtes," (robbers,) was after his death animated by the Devil.-The which was true to the letter.-If not cut off, they moderns, however, use the word I mention. come down in the winter, and pass it unmolested in some town, where they are often as well known as their exploits. 38. Wet with thine own best blood shall drip. Page 114, line 95. The freshness of the face, and the wetness of the lip with blood, are the never-failing signs of a Vampire. The stories told in Hungary and Greece of these foul feeders are singular, and some of them most incredibly attested. 41. This superstition of a second-hearing (for I never The circumstance to which the above story remet with downright second-sight in the east) fell lates was not very uncommon in Turkey. A few once under my own observation.-On my third years ago the wife of Muchtar Pacha complained to journey to Cape Colonna early in 1811, as we passed his father of his son's supposed infidelity; he asked through the defile that leads from the hamlet be- with whom, and she had the barbarity to give in a tween Keratiar and Colonna, I observed Dervish list of the twelve handsomest women in Yanina. Tahiri riding rather out of the path, and leaning They were seized, fastened up in sacks, and drownhis head upon his hand, as if in pain. I rode up ed in the lake the same night! One of the guards and inquired. "We are in peril," he answered. who was present informed me, that not one of the "What peril?_we are not now in Albania, nor in victims uttered a cry, or showed a symptom of terthe passes to Ephesus, Messalunghi, or Lepanto; ror at so sudden a "wrench from all we know, from there are plenty of us, well armed, and the Choriates all we love." The fate of Phrosine, the fairest of have not courage to be thieves."-" True, Affendi, this sacrifice, is the subject of many a Romaic and but nevertheless the shot is ringing in my ears.' "Arnaout ditty. The story in the text is one told "The shot! not a tophaike has been fired this of a young Venetian many years ago, and now morning.""I hear it notwithstanding-Bom-nearly forgotten. I heard it by accident recited by Bom-as plainly as I hear your voice."-"Pshaw." one of the coffee-house story-tellers who abound in "As you please, Affendi; if it is written, so will it the Levant, and sing or recite their narratives. be."-I left this quick-eared predestinarian, and The additions and interpolations by the translator rode up to Basili, his Christian compatriot, whose will be easily distinguished from the rest by the ears, though not at all prophetic, by no means rel- want of Eastern imagery; and I regret that my ished the intelligence. We all arrived at Colonna, memory has retained so few fragments of the origi remained some hours, and returned leisurely, say-nal. ing a variety of brilliant things, in more languages For the contents of some the notes I am indebted than spoiled the building of Babel, upon the mis-partly to D'Herbelot, and partly to that most easttaken seer; Romaic, Arnaout, Turkish, Italian, ern, and, as Mr. Weber justly entitles it, "sublime and English were all exercised, in various conceits, tale," the "Caliph Vathek.' I do not know from upon the unfortunate Mussulman. While we were what source the author of that singular volume contemplating the beautiful prospect, Dervish was may have drawn his materials; some of his incioccupied about the columns. I thought he was de- dents are to be found in the "Bibliotheque Orienranged into an antiquarian, and asked him if he had tale; but for correctness of costume, beauty of become a Palaocastro' man: "No," said he, “but description, and power of imagination, it far surthese pillars will be useful in making a stand;" passes all European imitations; and bears such and added other remarks, which at least evinced his marks of originality, that those who have visited own belief in his troublesome faculty of fore-hearing. the East, will find some difficulty in believing it to On our return to Athens, we heard from Leone (a be more than a translation. As an Eastern tale, prisoner set ashore some days after) of the intended even Rasselas must bow before it; his " Happy attack of the Mainotes, mentioned, with the cause Valley" will not bear a comparison with the "Hall of its not taking place, in the notes to Childe of Eblis." THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS; A TURKISH TALE. Had we never loved so kindly, We had ne'er been broken-hearted. BURNS. ΤΟ THE RIGHT HONORABLE LORD HOLLAND, THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED, WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT, BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND, KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume, Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl1 in her bloom; Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell. II. Begirt with many a gallant slave, Old Giaffir sat in his Divan: Deep thought was in his aged eye; And though the face of Mussulman Not oft betrays to standers by The mind within, well skill'd to hide All but unconquerable pride, His pensive cheek and pondering brow Did more than he was wont avow. III. "Let the chamber be clear'd."-The train disap pear'd "Now call me the chief of the Haram guard." With Giaffir is none but his only son, And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award. "Pacha! to hear is to obey." And downcast look'd and gently spake, "Father! for fear that thou shouldst chide That-let the old and weary sleep- The fairest scenes of land and deep, With none to listen and reply To thoughts with which my heart beat high Were irksome for whate'er my mood, I on Zuleika's slumber broke, And, as thou knowest that for me And made earth, main, and heaven our own. Warn'd by the sound, to greet thee flew: IV. "Son of a slave!"-the Pacha said— Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow, Nor strike one stroke for life and death V. No sound from Selim's lip was heard, Thus held his thoughts their dark career; And glances even of more than ire And started; for within his eye "Come hither, boy-what, no reply? I mark thee-and I know thee too; But there be deeds thou dar'st not do. But if thy beard had manlier length, And if thy hand had skill and strength, I'd joy to see thee break a lance, Albeit against my own perchance." As sneeringly these accents fell, That eye return'd him glance for glance, Till Giaffir's quail'd and shrunk askance- Far less would venture into strife Or Christian crouching in the fight- Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear: Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear, Such to my longing sight art thou; Who blest thy birth, and bless thee now! Fair, as the first that fell of womankind, When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling, Whose image then was stamp'd upon her mindBut once beguiled-and ever more beguiling; Dazzling, as that, oh! too transcendant vision To sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given, When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian, And paints the lost on earth revived in heaven; Soft, as the memory of buried love; Pure, as the prayer which childhood wafts above; Was she-the daughter of this rude old chief, Who met the maid with tears-but not of grief. Who hath not proved how feebly words essay The light of love, the purity of grace, Her graceful arms in meekness bending VII. "Zuleika! child of gentleness! That won and well can keep their lands. His years need scarce a thought employ ; VIII. In silence bow'd the virgin's head; Thrice clapp'd his hands, and call'd his steed," And mounting featly for the mead, His way amid his Delis took, 12 Watch'd well the Haram's massy doors. IX. His head was leant upon his hand, His eye look'd o'er the dark-blue water Mix in the game of mimic slaughter, No word from Selim's bosom broke; The drops, that through his glittering vest Unheeded o'er his bosom flew, As if that breast were marble too. The fairest flowers of Eastern land"He loved them once; may touch them yet, If offer'd by Zuleika's hand." The childish thought was hardly breath'd XI. "What! not receive my foolish flower? Nay then I am indeed unblest: On me can thus thy forehead lower? And know'st thou not who loves thee best? Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest! Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest? Come, lay thy head upon my breast, And I will kiss thee into rest, Since words of mine, and songs must fail, Even from my fabled nigtingale. I knew our sire at times was stern, Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan- When flies that shaft, and fly it must, XII. He lived-he breathed-he moved--he felt; He raised the maid from where she knelt; His trance was gone-his keen eye shone With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt; With thoughts that burn-in rays that melt. As the stream late conceal'd By the fringe of its willows, When it rushes reveal'd In the light of its billows; As the bolt bursts on high From Le black cloud that bound it, Through the long lashes round it. Than he, who heard that vow, display'd, With life to keep, and scarce with life resign; That vow hath saved more heads than one : I know the wretch who dares demana But let that pass-to none be told I've arms, and friends, and vengeance near.' XIII. "Think not thou art what thou appearest, And hate the night I know not why, With thee to live, with thee to die, I dare not to my hope deny : Thy cheek, thine eyes, thy lips to kiss, Like this-and this-no more than this; For, Alla! sure thy lips are flame: What fever in thy veins is flushing? My own have nearly caught the same, At least I feel my cheek too blushing. To sooth thy sickness, watch thy health, Partake, but never waste thy wealth, Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by, And lighten half thy poverty; Do all but close thy dying eye, For that I could not live to try; To these alone my thoughts aspire: More can I do? or thou require ? But, Selim, thou must answer why We see so much of mystery? The cause I cannot dream nor tell, But be it, since thou say'st 'tis well; Yet what thou mean'st by arms' and 'friends I meant that Giaffir should have heard The truth; my pride, and thine till now? Deep were my anguish, thus compell's |