XII.

She clapped her hands, and through the gallery pour, Equipped for flight, her vassals--Greek and Moor; Silent but quick they stoop, his chains unbind; Once more his limbs are free as mountain wind! But on his heavy heart such sadness sate, 1610 As if they there transferred that iron weight. No words are uttered--at her sign, a door Reveals the secret passage to the shore; The city lies behind--they speed, they reach The glad waves dancing on the yellow beach; And Conrad following, at her beck, obeyed, Nor cared he now if rescued or betrayed; Resistance were as useless as if Seyd Yet lived to view the doom his ire decreed.