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“ And felt
that all which Freedom's bosom cheers, “ Must break my chain before it dried my tears. “This may'st thou judge, at least, from my escape, “They little deem of aught in peril's shape; 700 “Else vainly had I pray'd or sought the chance “That leads me here-if eyed with vigilance: “ The careless guard that did not see me fly, “May watch as idly when thy power is nigh: “Pacha!-my limbs are faint-and nature craves 705 “Food for my hunger, rest from tossing waves ; " Permit my absence-peace be with thee! Peace “ With all around !—now grant repose-release.”
“Stay, Dervise! I have more to question-stay, “I do command thee-sit-dost hear?-obey! 710 “More I must ask, and food the slaves shall bring; “Thou shalt not pine where all are banqueting: "The supper done-prepare thee to reply, "Clearly and full-I love not mystery.”
'Twere vain to guess what shook the pious man, 715
The feast was usher'd in-but sumptuous fare
“Salt seasons dainties—and my food is still
It may seem strange--if there be aught to dread,
“ Well---as thou wilt---ascetic as thou art.--
“ Accursed Dervise !---these thy tidings---thou 750 “Some villain spy--seize--cleave him--slay him now !"
Up rose the Dervise with that burst of light,
Why did I doubt their quickness of career? “ And deem design had left me single here?" Sweeps his long arm---that sabre's whirling sway, 780 Sheds fast atonement for its first delay; Completes his fury, what their fear begun, And makes the many basely quail to one. The cloven turbans o'er the chamber spread, And scarce an arm dare rise to guard its head: 785 Even Seyd, convulsed, o'erwhelm'd with rage, surprise, Retreats before him, though he still defies. No craven he—and yet he dreads the blow, So much Confusion magnifies his foe! His blazing galleys still distract his sight,
790 He tore his beard, and foaming fled the fight; (8) For now the pirates pass'd the Haram gate, And burst within—and it were death to wait; Where wild Amazement shrieking-kneeling—throws The sword aside-in vain---the blood o’erflows! 795 The Corsairs pouring, haste to where within, Invited Conrad's bugle, and the din Of groaning victims, and wild cries for life, Proclaim'd how well he did the work of strife. They shout to find him grim and lonely there, 800 A glutted tyger mangling in his lair! But short their greeting---shorter his reply--“ 'Tis well—but Seyd escapes—and he must die. “Much hath been done—but more remains to dom “ Their galleys blaze-why not their city too ?” 805.