Gently the Guardian of the Land received
The living suppliant; listened to his prayer,
And gave him back the Spirit of the Maid.
But from that happy country, from the songs
Of joyance, from the splendor-sparkling dance,
Unwillingly compelled, the Maiden's Soul
Loathed to return; and he was warned to guard
The subtle captive well and warily,
Till, in her mortal tenement relodged,
Earthly delights might win her to remain
A sojourner on earth. Such lessoning
The Ruler of the Souls departed gave;
And mindful of his charge the adventurer brought
His subtle captive home. There underneath
The shelter of a hut, his friends had watched
The Maiden's corpse, secured it from the sun,
And fanned away the insect swarms of heaven.
A busy hand marred all the enterprise :
Curious to see the Spirit, he unloosed
The knotted bag which held her, and she fled.
Lincoya, thou art brave; where man has gone
Thou wouldst not fear to follow!
Silently
Lincoya listened, and with unmoved eyes;
At length he answered, Is the journey long?
The old man replied, A way of many moons.
I know a shorter path! exclaimed the youth;
And up he sprung, and from the precipice
Darted: a moment, ·and Ayayaca heard
His body fall upon the rocks below.
FROM 'RODERICK, THE LAST OF THE GOTHS.'5
FROM BOOK III.
LED by the sound,
As thus he cried aloud, a woman came
Toward him from the ruins. For the love
Of Christ, she said, lend me a little while
Thy charitable help! - Her words, her voice,
Her look, more horror to his heart conveyed
Than all the havock round: for though she spake
With the calm utterance of despair, in tones
Deep-breathed and low, yet never sweeter voice
Poured forth its hymns in ecstasy to Heaven.
Her hands were bloody, and her garments stained
With blood, her face with blood and dust defiled.
Beauty and youth, and grace and majesty,
Had every charm of form and feature given;
But now upon her rigid countenance
Severest anguish set a fixedness
Ghastlier than death.
She led him through the streets
A little way along, where four low walls,
Heaped rudely from the ruins round, enclosed
A narrow space: and there upon the ground
Four bodies, decently composed, were laid,
Though horrid all with wounds and clotted gore:
A venerable ancient, by his side
A comely matron, for whose middle age,
(If ruthless slaughter had not intervened,)
Nature it seemed, and gentle Time, might well
Have many a calm declining year in store;
The third an armèd warrior, on his breast
An infant, over whom his arms were crossed.
There, with firm eye and steady countenance,
Unfaltering, she addressed him, there they lie,
Child, Husband, Parents, Adosinda's all!
I could not break the earth with these poor hands, Nor other tomb provide, but let that pass! Auria itself is now but one wide tomb
For all its habitants : - What better grave?
What worthier monument? Oh cover not
Their blood, thou Earth! and ye, ye blessèd Souls Of Heroes and of murdered Innocents,
Oh never let your everlasting cries
Cease round the Eternal Throne, till the Most High For all these unexampled wrongs hath given
Full, overflowing vengeance !
She raised her lofty hands to Heaven, as if
Calling for justice on the Judgment-seat;
Then laid them on her eyes, and leaning on
Bent o'er the open sepulchre.
With quiet mien collectedly, like one
Who from intense devotion, and the act
Of ardent prayer, arising, girds himself
For this world's daily business, she arose,
And said to Roderick, Help me now to raise
The covering of the tomb.
With half-burnt planks,
Which she had gathered for this funeral use
They roofed the vault, then laying stones above
They closed it down; last, rendering all secure,
Stones upon stones they piled, till all appeared
A huge and shapeless heap. Enough, she cried;
And taking Roderick's hands in both her own,
And wringing them with fervent thankfulness,
May God show mercy to thee, she exclaimed,
When most thou needest mercy! Who thou art
I know not; not of Auria, — for of all
Her sons and daughters, save the one who stands
Before thee, not a soul is left alive.
But thou hast rendered to me, in my hour
Of need, the only help which man could give.
What else of consolation may be found
For one so utterly bereft, from Heaven
And from myself must come. For deem not thou
That I shall sink beneath calamity :
This visitation, like a lightning-stroke,
Hath scathed the fruit and blossom of my youth;
One hour hath orphaned me, and widowed me,
And made me childless. In this sepulchre
Lie buried all my earthward hopes and fears,
All human loves and natural charities;
All womanly tenderness, all gentle thoughts,
All female weakness too, I bury here,
Yea, all my former nature. There remain
Revenge and death:- the bitterness of death
Is past, and Heaven already hath vouchsafed
A foretaste of revenge.
And drawing back, held forth her bloody hands, —
'Tis Moorish !— In the day of massacre,
A captain of Alcahman's murderous host
Reserved me from the slaughter. Not because
My rank and station tempted him with thoughts
Of ransom, for amid the general waste
Of ruin all was lost; - Nor yet, be sure,
That pity moved him, — they who from this race
Accursed for pity look, such pity find
As ravenous wolves show the defenceless flock.
My husband at my feet had fallen; my babe,
Spare me that thought, O God! - and then
Amid the maddening throes of agony
Which rent my soul, when if this solid Earth
Had opened, and let out the central fire
Before whose all-involving flames wide Heaven
Shall shrivel like a scroll and be consumed,
The universal wreck had been to me
Relief and comfort; even then this Moor
Turned on me his libidinous eyes, and bade
His men reserve me safely for an hour
me!-me in my agonies!
But when I found for what this miscreant child
Of Hell had snatched me from the butchery,
The very horror of that monstrous thought
Saved me from madness; I was calm at once, -
Yet comforted and reconciled to life:
Hatred became to me the life of life,
Its purpose and its power.
At length broke up. This hell-dog turned aside
Toward his home; we travelled fast and far,
Till by a forest edge at eve he pitched
His tents. I washed and ate at his command,
Forcing revolted nature; I composed
My garments and bound up my scattered hair;
And when he took my hand, and to his couch
Would fain have drawn me, gently I retired
From that abominable touch, and said,
Forbear to-night I pray thee, for this day
A widow, as thou seest me, am I made;
Therefore, according to our law, must watch
And pray to-night. The loathsome villain paused
Ere he assented, then laid down to rest;
While at the door of the pavilion, I
Knelt on the ground, and bowed my face to earth;
But when the neighboring tents had ceased their stir,
The fires were out, and all were fast asleep,
Then I arose. The blessèd Moon from Heaven
Lent me her holy light. I did not pray
For strength, for strength was given me as I drew
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