Tents rose, and streamers played
And javelins sparkled in the sun,
And multitudes encamped
Swarmed, far as eye could follow, o'er the plain.
There in his war pavilion sate
In council with his Chiefs
The Sultan of the Land.
Before his presence there a Captain led
Oneiza and the appointed Youth.
"Obedient to our Lord's command," said he,
"We past towards the mountains, and began
"The ascending strait; when suddenly Earth shook,
"And darkness like the midnight fell around,
"And fire and thunder came from Heaven
"As tho' the Retribution day were come.
"After the terror ceased, and when with hearts
"Somewhat assured, again we ventured on,
"This youth and woman met us on the way.
"They told us that from Aloadin's haunt
"They came on whom the judgement-stroke has fallen;
"He and his sinful Paradise at once
"Destroyed by them, the agents they of Heaven.
"Therefore I brought them hither, to repeat
"The tale before thy presence; that as search
"Shall prove it false or faithful, to their merit
"Thou mayest reward them."
"Be it done to us,"
Thalaba answered, "as the truth shall prove!"
The Sultan while he spake
"Fixed on him the proud eye of sovereignty;
"If thou hast played with us,
"By Allah and by Ali, Death shall seal
"The lying lips for ever! if the thing
"Be as thou sayest it, Arab, thou shalt stand
"Next to ourself!"...
And hark! the cry
The lengthening cry, the increasing shout
Of joyful multitudes!
Breathless and panting to the tent
The bearer of good tidings comes,
"O Sultan, live for ever! be thy foes
"Like Aloadin all!
"The wrath of God hath smitten him."
Joy at the welcome tale
Shone in the Sultan's cheek
"Array the Arab in the robe
"Of honour," he exclaimed,
"And place a chain of gold around his neck,
"And bind around his brow the diadem,
"And mount him on my steed of state,
"And lead him thro' the camp,
"And let the Heralds go before and cry
"Thus shall the Sultan reward
"The man[137] who serves him well!"
Then in the purple robe
They vested Thalaba.
And hung around his neck the golden chain,
And bound his forehead with the diadem,
And on the royal steed
They led him thro' the camp,
And Heralds went before and cried
"Thus shall the Sultan reward
"The man who serves him well!"
When from the pomp of triumph
And presence of the King
Thalaba sought the tent allotted him,
Thoughtful the Arabian Maid beheld
His animated eye,
His cheek inflamed with pride.
"Oneiza!" cried the youth,
"The King hath done according to his word,
"And made me in the land
"Next to himself be named!...
"But why that serious melancholy smile?
"Oneiza when I heard the voice that gave me
"Honour, and wealth, and fame, the instant thought
"Arose to fill my joy, that thou wouldest hear
"The tidings, and be happy."
ONEIZA.
Thalaba
Thou wouldest not have me mirthful! am I not
An orphan,... among strangers?
THALABA.
But with me.
ONEIZA.
My Father,...
THALABA.
Nay be comforted! last night
To what wert thou exposed! in what a peril
The morning found us! safety, honour, wealth
These now are ours. This instant who thou wert
The Sultan asked. I told him from our childhood
We had been plighted;... was I wrong Oneiza?
And when he said with bounties he would heap
Our nuptials,... wilt thou blame me if I blest
His will, that bade me fix the marriage day!
In tears Oneiza?...
ONEIZA.
Remember Destiny
Hath marked thee from mankind!
THALABA.
Perhaps when Aloadin was destroyed
The mission ceased, else would wise Providence
With its rewards and blessings strew my path
Thus for accomplished service?
ONEIZA.
Thalaba!
THALABA.
Or if haply not, yet whither should I go?
Is it not prudent to abide in peace
Till I am summoned?
ONEIZA.
Take me to the Deserts!
THALABA.
But Moath is not there; and wouldest thou dwell
In a Stranger's tent? thy father then might seek
In long and fruitless wandering for his child.
ONEIZA.
Take me then to Mecca!
There let me dwell a servant of the Temple.
Bind thou thyself my veil,... to human eye
It never shall be lifted. There, whilst thou
Shalt go upon thine enterprize, my prayers,
Dear Thalaba! shall rise to succour thee,
And I shall live,... if not in happiness;
Surely in hope.
THALABA.
Oh think of better things!
The will of Heaven is plain: by wonderous ways
It led us here, and soon the common voice
Shall tell what we have done, and how we dwell
Under the shadow of the Sultan's wing,
So shall thy father hear the fame, and find us
What he hath wished us ever.... Still in tears!
Still that unwilling eye! nay ... nay.... Oneiza....
Has then another since I left the tent....
ONEIZA.
Thalaba! Thalaba!
With song, with music, and with dance
The bridal pomp proceeds.
Following on the veiled Bride
Fifty female slaves attend
In costly robes that gleam
With interwoven gold,
And sparkle far with gems.
An hundred slaves behind them bear
Vessels of silver and vessels of gold
And many a gorgeous garment gay
The presents that the Sultan gave.
On either hand the pages go
With torches flaring thro' the gloom,
And trump and timbrel merriment
Accompanies their way;
And multitudes with loud acclaim
Shout blessings on the Bride.
And now they reach the palace pile,
The palace home of Thalaba,
And now the marriage feast is spread
And from the finished banquet now
The wedding guests are gone.
Who comes from the bridal chamber?
It is Azrael, the Angel of Death.
THE EIGHTH BOOK.
_THALABA THE DESTROYER._
_THE EIGHTH BOOK._
WOMAN.
Go not among the Tombs, Old Man!
There is a madman there.
OLD MAN.
Will he harm me if I go?
WOMAN.
Not he, poor miserable man!
But 'tis a wretched sight to see
His utter wretchedness.
For all day long he lies on a grave,
And never is he seen to weep,
And never is he heard to groan.
Nor ever at the hour of prayer
Bends his knee, nor moves his lips.
I have taken him food for charity
And never a word he spake,
But yet so ghastly he looked
That I have awakened at night
With the dream of his ghastly eyes.
Now go not among the Tombs, Old Man!
OLD MAN.
Wherefore has the wrath of God
So sorely stricken him?
WOMAN.
He came a Stranger to the land,
And did good service to the Sultan,
And well his service was rewarded.
The Sultan named him next himself,
And gave a palace for his dwelling,
And dowered his bride with rich domains.
But on his wedding night
There came the Angel of Death.
Since that hour a man distracted
Among the sepulchres he wanders.
The Sultan when he heard the tale
Said that for some untold crime
Judgement thus had stricken him,
And asking Heaven forgiveness
That he had shewn him favour,
Abandoned him to want.
OLD MAN.
A Stranger did you say?
WOMAN.
An Arab born, like you.
But go not among the Tombs,
For the sight of his wretchedness
Might make a hard heart ache!
OLD MAN.
Nay, nay, I never yet have shunned
A countryman in distress:
And the sound of his dear native tongue
May be like the voice of a friend.
Then to the Sepulchre
The Woman pointed out,
Old Moath bent his way.
By the tomb lay Thalaba,
In the light of the setting eve.
The sun, and the wind, and the rain
Had rusted his raven locks,
His checks were fallen in,
His face bones prominent,
By the tomb he lay along
And his lean fingers played,
Unwitting, with the grass that grew beside.
The Old man knew him not,
And drawing near him cried
"Countryman, peace be with thee!"
The sound of his dear native tongue
Awakened Thalaba.
He raised his countenance
And saw the good Old Man,
And he arose, and fell upon his neck,
And groaned in bitterness.
Then Moath knew the youth,
And feared that he was childless, and he turned
His eyes, and pointed to the tomb.
"Old Man!" cried Thalaba,
"Thy search is ended there!"
The father's cheek grew white
And his lip quivered with the misery;
Howbeit, collecting with a painful voice
He answered, "God is good! his will be done!"
The woe in which he spake,
The resignation that inspired his speech,
They softened Thalaba.
"Thou hast a solace in thy grief," he cried,
"A comforter within!
"Moath! thou seest me here,
"Delivered to the Evil Powers,
"A God-abandoned wretch."
The Old Man looked at him incredulous.
"Nightly," the youth pursued,
"Thy daughter comes to drive me to despair.
"Moath thou thinkest me mad,...
"But when the Cryer[138] from the Minaret
"Proclaims the midnight hour,
"Hast thou a heart to see her?"
In the[139] Meidan now
The clang of clarions and of drums
Accompanied the Sun's descent.
"Dost thou not pray? my son!"
Said Moath, as he saw
The white flag waving on the neighbouring Mosque;
Then Thalaba's eye grew wild,
"Pray!" echoed he, "I must not pray!"
And the hollow groan he gave
Went to the Old Man's heart,
And bowing down his face to earth,
In fervent agony he called on God.
A night of darkness and of storms!
Into the Chamber[140] of the Tomb
Thalaba led the Old Man,
To roof him from the rain.
A night of storms! the wind
Swept thro' the moonless sky
And moaned among the pillared sepulchres.
And in the pauses of its sweep
They heard the heavy rain
Beat on the monument above.
In silence on Oneiza's grave
The Father and the Husband sate.
The Cryer from the Minaret
Proclaimed the midnight hour;
"Now! now!" cried Thalaba,
And o'er the chamber of the tomb
There spread a lurid gleam
Like the reflection of a sulphur fire,
And in that hideous light
Oneiza stood before them, it was She,
Her very lineaments, and such as death
Had changed them, livid cheeks, and lips of blue.
But in her eyes there dwelt
Brightness more terrible
Than all the loathsomeness of death.
"Still art thou living, wretch?"
In hollow tones she cried to Thalaba,
"And must I nightly leave my grave
"To tell thee, still in vain,
"God has abandoned thee?"
"This is not she!" the Old Man exclaimed,
"A Fiend! a manifest Fiend!"
And to the youth he held his lance,
"Strike and deliver thyself!"
"Strike HER!" cried Thalaba,
And palsied of all powers
Gazed fixedly upon the dreadful form.
"Yea! strike her!" cried a voice whose tones
Flowed with such sudden healing thro' his soul,
As when the desert shower
From death delivered him.
But unobedient to that well-known voice
His eye was seeking it,
When Moath firm of heart,
Performed the bidding; thro' the vampire[141] corpse
He thrust his lance; it fell,
And howling with the wound
Its demon tenant fled.
A sapphire light fell on them,
And garmented with glory, in their sight
Oneiza's Spirit stood.
"O Thalaba!" she cried,
"Abandon not thyself!
"Wouldst thou for ever lose me?... go, fulfill
"Thy quest, that in the Bowers of Paradise
"In vain I may not wait thee, O my Husband!"
To Moath then the Spirit
Turned the dark lustre of her Angel eyes,
"Short is thy destined path,
"O my dear father! to the abode of bliss.
"Return to Araby,
"There with the thought of death.
"Comfort thy lonely age,
"And Azrael the Deliverer, soon
"Shall visit thee in peace."
They stood with earnest eyes
And arms out-reaching, when again
The darkness closed around them.
The soul of Thalaba revived;
He from the floor the quiver took
And as he bent the bow, exclaimed,
"Was it the over-ruling Providence
"That in the hour of frenzy led my hands
"Instinctively to this?
"To-morrow, and the sun shall brace anew
"The slackened cord that now sounds loose and damp,
"To-morrow, and its livelier tone will sing
"In tort vibration to the arrow's flight.
"I ... but I also, with recovered health
"Of heart, shall do my duty.
"My Father! here I leave thee then!" he cried,
"And not to meet again
"Till at the gate of Paradise
"The eternal union of our joys commence.
"We parted last in darkness!"... and the youth
Thought with what other hopes,
But now his heart was calm,
For on his soul a heavenly hope had dawned.
The Old Man answered nothing, but he held
His garment and to the door
Of the Tomb Chamber followed him.
The rain had ceased, the sky was wild
Its black clouds broken by the storm.
And lo! it chanced that in the chasm
Of Heaven between, a star,
Leaving along its path continuous light,
Shot eastward. "See my guide!" quoth Thalaba,
And turning, he received
Old Moath's last embrace,
And his last blessing.
It was eve,
When an old Dervise, sitting in the sun
At his cell door, invited for the night
The traveller; in the sun
He spread the plain repast
Rice and fresh grapes, and at their feet there flowed
The brook of which they drank.
So as they sate at meal,
With song, with music, and with dance,
A wedding train went by;
The veiled bride, the female slaves,
The torches of festivity,
And trump and timbrel merriment
Accompanied their way.
The good old Dervise gave
A blessing as they past.
But Thalaba looked on,
And breathed a low, deep groan, and hid his face.
The Dervise had known sorrow; and he felt
Compassion; and his words
Of pity and of piety
Opened the young man's heart
And he told all his tale.
"Repine not, O my Son!" the Old Man replied,
"That Heaven has chastened thee.
"Behold this vine,[142] I found it a wild tree
"Whose wanton strength had swoln into
"Irregular twigs, and bold excrescencies,
"And spent itself in leaves and little rings,
"In the vain flourish of its outwardness
"Wasting the sap and strength
"That should have given forth fruit.
"But when I pruned the Tree,
"Then it grew temperate in its vain expence
"Of useless leaves, and knotted, as thou seest,
"Into these full, clear, clusters, to repay
"The hand whose foresight wounded it.
"Repine not, O my Son!
"In wisdom and in mercy Heaven inflicts,
"Like a wise Leech, its painful remedies."
Then pausing, "whither goest thou now?" he asked.
"I know not," answered Thalaba,
"Straight on, with Destiny my guide."
Quoth the Old Man, "I will not blame thy trust,
"And yet methinks thy feet
"Should tread with certainty.
"In Kaf the Simorg hath his dwelling place,
"The all-knowing Bird of Ages, who hath seen
"The World, with all her children, thrice destroyed.
"Long is the thither path,
"And difficult the way, of danger full;
"But his unerring voice
"Could point to certain end thy weary search."
Easy assent the youth
Gave to the words of wisdom; and behold
At dawn, the adventurer on his way to Kaf.
And he has travelled many a day
And many a river swum over,
And many a mountain ridge has crost
And many a measureless plain,
And now amid the wilds advanced,
Long is it since his eyes
Have seen the trace of man.
Cold! cold! 'tis a chilly clime
That the toil of the youth has reached,
And he is aweary now,
And faint for the lack of food.
Cold! cold! there is no Sun in heaven
But a heavy and uniform cloud
And the snows begin to fall.
Dost thou wish for thy deserts, O Son of Hodeirah?
Dost thou long for the gales of Arabia?
Cold! cold! his blood flows languid,
His hands are red, his lips are blue,
His feet are sore with the frost.
Cheer thee! cheer thee! Thalaba!
A little yet bear up!
All waste! no sign of life
But the track of the wolf and the bear!
No sound but the wild, wild wind
And the snow crunching under his feet!
Night is come; no moon, no stars,
Only the light of the snow!
But behold a fire in the cave of the hill
A heart-reviving fire;
And thither with strength renewed
Thalaba presses on.
He found a Woman in the cave,
A solitary Woman,
Who by the fire was spinning
And singing as she spun.
The pine boughs they blazed chearfully
And her face was bright with the flame.
Her face was as a Damsel's face
And yet her hair was grey.
She bade him welcome with a smile
And still continued spinning
And singing as she spun.
The thread the Woman drew
Was finer than the silkworm's,
Was finer than the gossamer.
The song she sung was low and sweet
And Thalaba knew not the words.
He laid his bow before the hearth,
For the string was frozen stiff.
He took the quiver from his neck,
For the arrow plumes were iced.
Then as the chearful fire
Revived his languid limbs,
The adventurer asked for food.
The Woman answered him,
And still her speech was song,
"The She Bear she dwells near to me,
"And she hath cubs, one, two and three.
"She hunts the deer and brings him here,
"And then with her I make good cheer,
"And she to the chase is gone
"And she will be here anon."
She ceased from her work as she spake,
And when she had answered him,
Again her fingers twirled the thread
And again the Woman began
In low, sweet, tones to sing
The unintelligible song.
The thread she spun it gleamed like gold
In the light of the odorous fire,
And yet so wonderous thin,
That save when the light shone on it
It could not be seen by the eye.
The youth sate watching it,
And she beheld his wonder.
And then again she spake to him
And still her speech was song,
"Now twine it round thy hands I say,
"Now twine it round thy hands I pray,
"My thread is small, my thread is fine,
"But he must be
"A stronger than thee,
"Who can break this thread of mine!"
And up she raised her bright blue eyes
And sweetly she smiled on him,
And he conceived no ill.
And round and round his right hand,
And round and round his left,
He wound the thread so fine.
And then again the Woman spake,
And still her speech was song,
"Now thy strength, O Stranger, strain,
"Now then break the slender chain."
Thalaba strove, but the thread
Was woven by magic hands,
And in his cheek the flush of shame
Arose, commixt with fear.
She beheld and laughed at him,
And then again she sung,
"My thread is small, my thread is fine,
"But he must be
"A stronger than thee
"Who can break this thread of mine."
And up she raised her bright blue eyes
And fiercely she smiled on him,
"I thank thee, I thank thee, Hodeirah's Son!
"I thank thee for doing what can't be undone,
"For binding thyself in the chain I have spun!"
Then from his head she wrenched
A lock of his raven hair,
And cast it in the fire
And cried aloud as it burnt,
"Sister! Sister! hear my voice!
"Sister! Sister! come and rejoice,
"The web is spun,
"The prize is won,
"The work is done,
"For I have made captive Hoderiah's Son."
Borne in her magic car
The Sister Sorceress came,
Khawla, the fiercest of the Sorcerer brood.
She gazed upon the youth,
She bade him break the slender thread,
She laughed aloud for scorn,
She clapt her hands for joy.
The She Bear from the chase came in,
She bore the prey in her bloody mouth,
She laid it at Maimuna's feet,
And she looked up with wistful eyes
As if to ask her share.
"There! there!" quoth Maimuna
And pointing to the prisoner youth
She spurned him with her foot,
And bade her make her meal.
But soon their mockery failed them
And anger and shame arose,
For the She Bear fawned on Thalaba
And quietly licked his hand.
The grey haired Sorceress stamped the ground
And called a Spirit up,
"Shall we bear the Enemy
"To the dungeon dens below?"
SPIRIT.
Woe! woe! to our Empire woe!
If ever he tread the caverns below.
MAIMUNA.
Shall we leave him fettered here
With hunger and cold to die?
SPIRIT.
Away from thy lonely dwelling fly!
Here I see a danger nigh
That he should live and thou shouldst die.
MAIMUNA.
Whither must we bear the foe?
SPIRIT.
To Mohareb's island go,
There shalt thou secure the foe,
There prevent thy future woe.
Then in the Car they threw
The fettered Thalaba,
And took their seats, and set
Their feet upon his neck,
Maimuna held the reins
And Khawla shook the scourge
And away![143] away! away!
They were no steeds of mortal race
That drew the magic car
With the swiftness of feet and of wings.
The snow-dust rises behind them,
The ice-rocks splinters fly,
And hark! in the valley below
The sound of their chariot wheels
And they are far over the mountains.
Away! away! away!
The Demons of the air
Shout their joy as the Sisters pass,
The Ghosts of the Wicked that wander by night
Flit over the magic car.
Away! away! away!
Over the hills and the plains
Over the rivers and rocks,
Over the sands of the shore;
The waves of ocean heave
Under the magic steeds,
With unwet hoofs they trample the deep
And now they reach the Island coast,
And away to the city the Monarch's abode.
Open fly the city gates,
Open fly the iron doors
The doors of the palace court.
Then stopt the charmed car.
The Monarch heard the chariot wheels
And forth he came to greet
The Mistress whom he served.
He knew the captive youth,
And Thalaba beheld
Mohareb in[144] the robes of royalty,
Whom erst his arm had thrust
Down the bitumen pit.
The Ninth Book.
_THALABA THE DESTROYER._
_THE NINTH BOOK._
"Go up, my Sister Maimuna,
"Go up, and read the stars!"
Lo! on the terrace of the topmost tower
She stands; her darkening eyes,
Her fine face raised to heaven,
Her white hair flowing like the silver streams
That streak the northern night.
They hear her coming tread,
They lift their asking eyes,
Her face is serious, her unwilling lips
Slow to the tale of ill.
"What hast thou read? what hast thou read?"
Quoth Khawla in alarm.
"Danger ... death ... judgement!" Maimuna replied.
"Is that the language of the lights of Heaven?"
Exclaimed the sterner Witch.
"Creatures of Allah, they perform his will.
"And with their lying menaces would daunt
"Our credulous folly.... Maimuna,
"I never liked this uncongenial lore!
"Better befits to make the sacrifice
"Of Divination; so shall I
"Be mine own Oracle.
"Command the victims thou, O King!
"Male and female they must be,
"Thou knowest the needful rites.
"Meanwhile I purify the place."
The Sultan went; the Sorceress rose,
And North and South and East and West
She faced the points of Heaven,
And ever where she turned
She laid her hand upon the wall,
And up she looked and smote the air,
And down she stooped and smote the floor,
"To Eblis and his servants
"I consecrate the place,
"Let none intrude but they!
"Whatever hath the breath of life,
"Whatever hath the sap of life,
"Let it be blasted and die!"
Now all is prepared;
Mohareb returns,
The Circle is drawn,
The Victims have bled,
The Youth and the Maid.
She in the circle holds in either hand
Clenched by the hair, a head,
The heads of the Youth and the Maid.
"Go out ye lights!" quoth Khawla,
And in darkness began the spell.
With spreading arms she whirls around
Rapidly, rapidly
Ever around and around;
And loudly she calls the while
"Eblis! Eblis!"
Loudly, incessantly,
Still she calls "Eblis! Eblis!"
Giddily, giddily, still she whirls,
Loudly, incessantly, still she calls;
The motion is ever the same,
Ever around and around;
The calling is still the same
Still it is "Eblis! Eblis!"
And her voice is a shapeless yell,
And dizzily rolls her brain,
And now she is full of the Fiend.
She stops, she rocks, she reels!
Look! look! she appears in the darkness!
Her flamy hairs curl up
All living, like the Meteor's locks of light!
Her eyes are like the sickly Moon!
It is her lips that move,
Her tongue that shapes the sound,
But whose is the Voice that proceeds?
"Ye may hope and ye may fear,
"The danger of his stars is near.
"Sultan! if he perish, woe!
"Fate has written one death-blow
"For Mohareb and the Foe?
"Triumph! triumph! only she
"That knit his bonds can set him free."
She spake the Oracle,
And senselessly she fell.
They knelt in care beside her,
Her Sister and the King.
They sprinkled her palms with water,
They wetted her nostrils with blood.
She wakes as from a dream,
She asks the uttered Voice,
But when she heard, an anger and a grief
Darkened her wrinkling brow.
"Then let him live in long captivity!"
She answered: but Mohareb's quickened eye
Perused her sullen countenance
That lied not with the lips.
A miserable man!
What boots it, that, in central caves
The Powers of Evil at his Baptism pledged
The Sacrament of Hell?
His death secures them now.
What boots it that they gave
Abdaldar's guardian ring,
When thro' another's life
The blow may reach his own?
He sought the dungeon cell
Where Thalaba was laid.
'Twas the grey morning twilight, and the voice
Of Thalaba in prayer,
With words of hallowed import, smote
The King's alarmed sense.
The grating of the heavy hinge
Roused not the Arabian youth;
Nor lifted he his earthward face
At sound of coming feet.
Nor did Mohareb with unholy voice
Disturb the duty: silent, spirit-awed,
Envious, heart-humbled, he beheld
The dungeon-peace of piety
Till Thalaba, the perfect rite performed,
Raised his calm eye; then spake the Island-Chief.
"Arab! my guidance thro' the dangerous Cave,
"Thy service overpaid,
"An unintended friend in enmity.
"The hand that caught thy ring
"Received and bore me to the scene I sought.
"Now know me grateful. I return
"That amulet, thy only safety here."