VIII.

The midnight passed, and to the massy door A light step came--it paused--it moved once more; Slow turns the grating bolt and sullen key: 1440 'Tis as his heart foreboded--that fair She! Whate'er her sins, to him a Guardian Saint, And beauteous still as hermit's hope can paint; Yet changed since last within that cell she came, More pale her cheek, more tremulous her frame: On him she cast her dark and hurried eye, Which spoke before her accents--"Thou must die! Yes, thou must die--there is but one resource, The last--the worst--if torture were not worse."

"Lady! I look to none; my lips proclaim 1450 What last proclaimed they--Conrad still the same: Why should'st thou seek an outlaw's life to spare, And change the sentence I deserve to bear? Well have I earned--nor here alone--the meed Of Seyd's revenge, by many a lawless deed."

"Why should I seek? because--Oh! did'st thou not Redeem my life from worse than Slavery's lot? Why should I seek?--hath Misery made thee blind To the fond workings of a woman's mind? And must I say?--albeit my heart rebel 1460 With all that Woman feels, but should not tell-- Because--despite thy crimes--that heart is moved: It feared thee--thanked thee--pitied--maddened--loved. Reply not, tell not now thy tale again, Thou lov'st another--and I love in vain: Though fond as mine her bosom, form more fair, I rush through peril which she would not dare. If that thy heart to hers were truly dear, Were I thine own--thou wert not lonely here: An outlaw's spouse--and leave her Lord to roam! 1470 What hath such gentle dame to do with home? But speak not now--o'er thine and o'er my head Hangs the keen sabre by a single thread;[ib] If thou hast courage still, and would'st be free, Receive this poniard--rise and follow me!"

"Aye--in my chains! my steps will gently tread, With these adornments, o'er such slumbering head! Thou hast forgot--is this a garb for flight? Or is that instrument more fit for fight?"

"Misdoubting Corsair! I have gained the guard, 1480 Ripe for revolt, and greedy for reward. A single word of mine removes that chain: Without some aid how here could I remain? Well, since we met, hath sped my busy time, If in aught evil, for thy sake the crime: The crime--'tis none to punish those of Seyd. That hatred tyrant, Conrad--he must bleed! I see thee shudder, but my soul is changed-- Wronged--spurned--reviled--and it shall be avenged-- Accused of what till now my heart disdained-- 1490 Too faithful, though to bitter bondage chained. Yes, smile!--but he had little cause to sneer, I was not treacherous then, nor thou too dear: But he has said it--and the jealous well,-- Those tyrants--teasing--tempting to rebel,-- Deserve the fate their fretting lips foretell. I never loved--he bought me--somewhat high-- Since with me came a heart he could not buy. I was a slave unmurmuring; he hath said, But for his rescue I with thee had fled. 1500 'Twas false thou know'st--but let such Augurs rue, Their words are omens Insult renders true. Nor was thy respite granted to my prayer; This fleeting grace was only to prepare New torments for thy life, and my despair. Mine too he threatens; but his dotage still Would fain reserve me for his lordly will: When wearier of these fleeting charms and me, There yawns the sack--and yonder rolls the sea! What, am I then a toy for dotard's play, 1510 To wear but till the gilding frets away? I saw thee--loved thee--owe thee all--would save, If but to show how grateful is a slave. But had he not thus menaced fame and life,-- And well he keeps his oaths pronounced in strife-- I still had saved thee--but the Pacha spared: Now I am all thine own--for all prepared: Thou lov'st me not--nor know'st--or but the worst. Alas! _this_ love--_that_ hatred--are the first-- Oh! could'st thou prove my truth, thou would'st not start, 1520 Nor fear the fire that lights an Eastern heart; 'Tis now the beacon of thy safety--now It points within the port a Mainote prow: But in one chamber, where our path must lead, There sleeps--he must not wake--the oppressor Seyd!"

"Gulnare--Gulnare--I never felt till now My abject fortune, withered fame so low: Seyd is mine enemy; had swept my band From earth with ruthless but with open hand, And therefore came I, in my bark of war, 1530 To smite the smiter with the scimitar; Such is my weapon--not the secret knife; Who spares a Woman's seeks not Slumber's life. Thine saved I gladly, Lady--not for this; Let me not deem that mercy shown amiss. Now fare thee well--more peace be with thy breast! Night wears apace, my last of earthly rest!"[ic]

"Rest! rest! by sunrise must thy sinews shake, And thy limbs writhe around the ready stake, I heard the order--saw--I will not see-- 1540 If thou wilt perish, I will fall with thee. My life--my love--my hatred--all below Are on this cast--Corsair! 'tis but a blow! Without it flight were idle--how evade His sure pursuit?--my wrongs too unrepaid, My youth disgraced--the long, long wasted years, One blow shall cancel with our future fears; But since the dagger suits thee less than brand, I'll try the firmness of a female hand. The guards are gained--one moment all were o'er-- 1550 Corsair! we meet in safety or no more; If errs my feeble hand, the morning cloud Will hover o'er thy scaffold, and my shroud."