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Where'er had pass'd his summer years of life, Then turning, vaulted on his pawing steed, It seems they vanish'd in a land of strife; And instant spurr'd him into panting speed. But all unknown his glory or his guilt,
His face was mask'd-the features of the dead,
And such 'tis known Sir Ezzelin had worn
Upon the night that led to such a morn.
If thus he perish'd, Heaven receive his soul! A Serf that cross'd the intervening vale, His undiscover'd limbs to ocean roll; When Cynthia's light almost gave way to morn, And charity upon the hope would dwell, And nearly veil'd in mist her waning horn; It was not Lara's hand by which he fell. A Serf, that rose betimes to thread the wood, And hew the bough that bought his children's food, Pass'd by the river that divides the plain
XXV. Of Otho's lands and Lara's broad domain : And Kaled-Lara-Ezzelin, are gone, He heard a tramp-a horse and horseman broke Alike without their monumental stone! From out the wood-before him was a cloak The first, all efforts vainly strove to wean Wrapt round some burden at his saddle-bow; From lingering where her chieftain's blood had been Bent was his head, and hidden was his brow. Grief had so tamed a spirit once too proud, Roused by the sudden sight at such a time, Her tears were few, her wailing never loud; And some foreboding that it might be crime, But furious would you tear her from the spot Himself unheeded watch'd the stranger' course, Where yet she scarce believed that he was not Who reach'd the river, bounded from his horse, Her eye shot forth with all the living fire And lifting thence the burden which he bore, That haunts the tigress in her whelpless ize, Heaved up the bank, and dashed it from the shore, But left to waste her weary moments there, Then paused, and look'd, and turn'd, and seem’d to She talk'd all idly unto shapes of air, watch,
Such as the busy brain of Sorrow paints, And still another hurried glance would snatch, And woos to listen to her fond complaints : And follow with his step the stream that flow'd, And she would sit beneath the very tree As if even yet too much its surface show'd : Where lay his drooping head upon her knee; At once he started, stoop'd, around him strown And in that posture where she saw him fall, The winter floods had scatter'd heaps of stone; His words, his looks, his dying grasp recall : Of these the heaviest thence he gather'd there, And she had shorn, but saved her raven hair, And slung them with a more than common care. And oft would snatch it from her bosom there, Meantime the Sarf had crept to where unseen And fold, and press it gently to the ground, Himself might safely mark what this might mean; As if she staunched anew some phantom's wound He caught a glimpse, as of a floating breast, Herself would question, and for him reply; And something glitter'd starlike on the vest, Then rising, start, and beckon him to fly But ere he well could mark the buoyant trunk, From some imagined spectre in pursuit; A massy fragment smote it, and it sunk:
Then seat her down upon some linden's root, It rose again but indistinct to view,
And hide her visage with her meagre hand, And left the waters of a purple hue,
Or trace strange characters along the sandThen deeply disappear'd: the horseman gazed, This could not last-she lies by him she loved ; Till ebb'd the latest eddy it had raised;
Her tale untold-her truth too dearly proved.
NOTE TO LARA.
Tas event in section xxiv. Canto II. was sug- he replied, that he saw two men on foot, who came gested by the description of the death or rather down the street, and looked diligently about, to barial of the Duke of Gandia.
observe whether any person was passing.. That The most interesting and particular account of seeing no one, they returned, and a short time afthis mysterious event is given by Burchard, and is terwards two others came, and looked around in the in substance as follows: "On the eighth day of same manner as the former: no person still appearJune, the Cardinal of Valenza, and the Duke of ing, they gave a sign to their companions, when a Gandia, sons of the Pope, supped with their mother, man came, mounted on a white horse, having beVanozza, near the church of S. Pietro ad vincula ; hind him a dead body, the head and arms of which several other persons being present at the entertain- hung on one side, and the feet on the other side of ment. A late hour approaching, and the cardinal the horse; the two persons on foot supporting the having reminded his brother, that it was time to body, to prevent its falling. They thus proceeded return to the apostolic palace, they mounted their towards that part where the filth of the city is usuhorses or mules, with only a few attendants, and ally discharged into the river, and turning the horse, proceeded together as far as the palace of the Car- with his tail towards the water, the two persons dinal Ascanio Sforza, when the duke informed the took the dead body by the arms and feet, and avith cardinal, that before he returned home, he had to all their strength ffung it into the river. The perpay a visit of pleasure. Dismissing therefore all son on horseback then asked if they had thrown it his attendants except his staffiero, or footman, and in, to which they replied, Signor, si (yes, Sir.) He a person in a mask, who had paid him a visit whilst then looked towards the river, and seeing a mantle at supper, and who, during the space of a month or floating on the stream, he inquired what it was that thereabouts, previous to this time, had called upon appeared black, to which they answered, it was a him almost daily, at the apostolic palace, he took mantle; and one of them threw stones upon it, in this person behind him on his mule, and proceeded consequence of which it sunk. The attendants of to the street of the Jews, where he quitted his ser- the pontiff then inquired from Giorgio, why he had Fant, directing him to remain there until a certain not revealed this to the governor of the city; to hour; when, if he did not return, he might repair which he replied, that he had seen in his time a to the palace. The duke then seated the person in hundred dead bodies thrown into the river at the the mask behind him, and rode, I know not whither; same place, without any inquiry being made respectout in that night he was assassinated, and thrown ing them, and that he had not therefore, considerinto the river. The servant, after having been ed it as a matter of any importance. The fisherdismissed, was also assaulted and mortally wound- men and seamen were then collected, and ordered ed; and although he was attended with great care, to search the river, where, on the following eveFet such was his situation, that he could give no in- ning, they found the body of the duke, with his telligible account of what had befallen his master. habit entire, and thirty ducats in his purse. He In the morning, the duke not having returned to was pierced with nine wounds, one of which was in the palace, his servants began to be alarmed; and his throat, the others in his head, body, and limbs. one of them informed the pontiff of the evening No sooner was the pontiff informed of the death of excursion of his sons, and that the duke had not his son, and that he had been thrown, like filth, yet made his appearance. This gave the pope no into the river, than, giving way to his grief, he small anxiety ; but he conjectured that the duke shut himself up in a chamber, and wept bitterly. had been attracted by some courtesan to pass the The Cardinal of Segovia, and other attendants on night with her, and not choosing to quit the house the pope, went to the door, and after many hours in open day, had waited till the following evening spent in persuasions and exhortations, prevailed to return home. When, however, the evening ar- upon him to admit them. From the evening of rived, and he found himself disappointed in his ex- Wednesday, till the following Saturday, the pope pectations, he became deeply amicted, and began to took no food; nor did he sleep from Thursday mornmake inquiries from different persons, whom he or- ing till the same hour on the ensuing day. At dered to attend him for that purpose. Among length, however, giving way to the entreaties of his these was a man named Giorgio Schiavoni, who, attendants, he began to restrain his sorrow, and to having discharged some timber from a bark in the consider the injury which his own health might susriver, had remained on board the vessel to watch it, tain, by the further indulgence of his grief."--Rosand being interrogated whether he had seen any coe's Leo Tenth, vol. i. page 265. mne thrown into the river on the night preceding,
The grand army of the Turks, (in 1715,) under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into the heart of the Morea, and to form the siege of Napoli di Romania, the most considerable place in all that country,* thought it best in the first place to attack Corinth, upon which they made several storms. The garrison being weakened, and the governor seeing it was impossible to hold out against so mighty a force, thought it fit to beat a parley: but while they were treating about the articles, one of the magazines in the Turkish camp, wherein they had six hundred barrels of powder, blew up by accident, whereby six or seven hundred men were killed; which so enraged the infidels, that they would not grant any capitulation, but stormed the place with so much fury, that they took it, and put most of the garrison, with Signior Minotti, the governor, to the sword. The rest, with Antonio Bembo, proveditor extraordinary, were made prisoners of war.”—History of the Turks, vol. iii. p. 151.
The whirlwind's wrath, the earthquake's shock.
• Napoli di Romania is not now the most considerabie place in the Morea, but Tripoliiza, where the Pacha resides, and maintains his government. Napoli is powr Argos. I visited all three iu 1810-11; and in the course of Journeying arough the country from my first arrival in 1809, 1 crossed the Kothmus eighs times in my way from Attica to the Morea, over the mountains, o in the other direction, when paming from the Gulf of Athens to that of Lepanto. Both the routes are picturesque and beautiful, though very differem: that by sea has more ramenena, bart the voyage being always within right of land, and often very near it, presents many attractive views of the blanda Salaria, Ægina, Poro, &c., and the coast of the continent.
II. On dun Cithæron's ridge appears The gleam of twice ten thousand spears; And downward to the Isthmian plain, From shore to shore of either main, The tent is pitch'd, the crescent shines Along the Moslem's leaguering lines; And the dusk Spahi's bands advance Beneath each bearded pacha's glance ; And far and wide as eye can reach The turban'd cohorts throng the beach; And there the Arab's camel kneels, And there his steed the Tartar wheels; The Turcoman hath left his herd, The sabre round his loins to gird;
And there the volleying thunders pour,
Coumourgi-can his glory cease,
That latest conqueror of Greece,
Till Christian hands to Greece restore
The freedom Venice gave of yore?
A hundred years have roll'd away
Since he refused the Moslem's sway,
And now he led the Mussulman,
And gave the guidance of the van
To Alp, who well repaid the trust
By cities levell’d with the dust;
And proved, by many a deed of death.
How firm his heart in novel faith.
The walls grew weak; and fast and hot
Against them pour'd the ceaseless shot,
With unabating fury sent
From battery to battlement;
And thunder-like the pealing din
Rose from each heated culverin ;
And here and there some crackling dome
Was fired before the exploding bomb:
And as the fabric sank beneath
The shattering shell's volcanic breath,
In red and wreathing columns flash'd
The flame, as loud the ruin crash'd,
Or into countless meteors driven,
Its earth-stars melted into heaven;
Whose clouds that day grew doubly dun,
Impervious to the hidden sun,
With volumed smoke that slowly grew
To one wide sky of sulphurous hue.
But not for vengeance, long delay'd,
Alone, did Alp, the renegade,
The Moslem warriors sternly teach
His skill to pierce the promised breach:
Within these walls a maid was pent
His hope would win without consent
Of that inexorable sire,
Whose heart refused him in its ire,
When Alp, beneath his Christian name,
Her virgin hand aspired to claim.
In happier mood, and earlier time,
While unimpeach'd for traitorous crime,
Gayest in gondola or hall,
He glitter'd through the Carnival;
And tuned the softest serenade
That e'er on Adria's waters play'd
At midnight to Italian maid.
And many deem'd her heart was won.
For sought by numbers, given to none,
Had young Francesca's hand remain'd
Still by the church's bonds unchain'd:
And when the Adriatic bore
Lanciotto to the Paynim shore,
Her wonted smiles were seen to fail,
And pensive wax'd the maid and pale;
More rare at masque and festival;
Or seen at such, with downcast eyes,
Which conquer'd hearts they ceased to priso:
With listless look she seems to gaze,
With humbler care her form arrays;
Her voice less lively in the song,
Her step, though bght, less fleet among
The pairs, on whom the Morning's glance And take a long unmeasured tone,
To mortal minstrelsy unknown.
It seem'd to those within the wall
A cry prophetic of their fall :
It struck even the besieger's ear (Which wrested from the Moslem's hand,
With something ominous and drear, While Sobieski tamed his pride
An undefined and sudden thrill, By Buda’s wall and Danube's side,
Which makes the heart a moment still The chiefs of Venice wrung away
Then beat with quicker pulse, ashamed From Patra to Eubwa's bay,)
Of that strange sense its silence framed; Minotti held in Corinth's towers
Such as a sudden passing-bell The Doge's delegated powers,
Wakes, though but for a stranger's knell. While yet the pitying eye of Peace Smiled o'er her long-forgotten Greece:
XII. And ere that faithless truce was broke
The tent of Alp was on the shore; Which freed her from the unchristian yoke. The sound was hush'd, the prayer was o'er; With him his gentle daughter came,
The watch was set, the night-round made, Nor there, since Menelaus' dame
All mandates issued and obey'd : Forsook her lord and land, to prove
'Tis but another anxious night, What woes await on lawless love,
His pains the morrow may requite Had fairer form adorn'd the shore
With all revenge and love can pay, Than she, the matchless stranger, bore.
In guerdon of their long delay.
Few hours remain, and he hath need
Of rest, to nerve for many a deed
Of slaughter; but within his soul And, with to-morrow's earliest dawn,
The thoughts like troubled waters roll O'er the disjointed mass shall vault
He stood alone among the host; The foremost of the fierce assault.
Not his the loud fanátic boast The bands are rank'd; the chosen van
To plant the crescent o'er the cross, Of Tartar and of Mussulman,
Or risk a life with little loss, The full of hope, misnamed "forlorn,"
Secure in paradise to be Who hold the thought of death in scorn,
By Houris loved immortally : And win their way with falchion's force,
Nor his, what burning patriots feel, Or pave the path with many a corse,
The stern exaltedness of zeal, O'er which the following brave may rise,
Profuse of blood, untired in toil, Their stepping-stone—the last who dies !
When battling on the parent soil.
He stood alone-a renegade
Against the country he betray'd;
He stood alone amidst his band, 'Tis midnight: on the mountains brown
Without a trusted heart or hand; The cold round moon shines deeply down;
They follow'd him, for he was brave, Blue roll the waters, blue the sky
And great the spoil he got and gave; Spreads like an ocean hung on high,
They crouch'd to him, for he had skill Bespangled with those isles of light,
To warp and wield the vulgar will; So wildly, spiritually bright;
But still his Christian origin Who ever gazed upon them shining,
With them was little less than sin. And turn'd to earth without repining,
They envied even the faithless fame Nor wish'd for wings to flee away,
He earn'd beneath a Moslem name; And mix with their eternal ray?
Since he, their mightiest chief had been The waves on either shore lay there
In youth a bitter Nazarene. Calm, clear, and azure as the air ;
They did not know how pride can stoop, And scarce their foam the pebbles shook,
When baffled feelings withering droop; But murmur'd meekly as the brook.
They did not know how hate can burn The winds were pillow'd on the waves;
In hearts once changed from soft to stern; The banners droop'd along their staves,
Nor all the false and fatal zeal And, as they fell around them furling,
The convert of revenge can feel. Above them shone the crescent curling;
He ruled them-man may rule the worst, And that deep silence was unbroke, Save where the watch his signal spoke,
By ever daring to be first:
So lions o'er the jackal sway; Save where the steed neigh'd oft and shrill,
The jackal points, he fells the prey,
Then on the vulgar yelling press,
To gorge the relics of success.
His head grows fever'd, and his pulse Like some lone spirit's o'er the plain :
The quick successive throbs convulse : 'Twas musical, but sadly sweet,
In vain from side to side he throws Such as when winds and harp-strings meet, His form, in courtship of resorje;