To meet the gaze of stranger's eyes, And such it feels while lurking here; Nor leave me thus to thoughts of fear. Ah! yonder see the Tchocadar, My father leaves the mimic war; I tremble now to meet his eyeSay, Selim, canst thou tell me why? XIV. 'Zuleika!-to thy tower's retreat Tchocadar,' one of the attendants who precedes a man of authority. And now with him I fain must prate For which the Giaour may give him thanks! But, mark me, when the twilight drum Unto thy cell will Selim come: Then softly from the Haram creep 'Delay not thou; I. CANTO THE SECOND. THE winds are high on Helle's wave, The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter. May nerve young hearts to prove as true. II. The winds are high, and Helle's tide All-save immortal dreams that could beguile The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle! III. Oh! yet-for there my steps have been ; These feet have press'd the sacred shore, These limbs that buoyant wave hath borneMinstrel with thee to muse, to mourn, To trace again those fields of yore, Believing every hillock green Contains no fabled hero's ashes, Be long my lot! and cold were he The wrangling about this epithet, the broad Hellespont,' or the 'boundless Hellespont,' whether it means one or the other, or what it means at all, has been beyond all possibility of detail. I have even heard it disputed on the spot; and not foreseeing a speedy conclusion to the controversy, amused myself with swimming across it in the mean time, and probably may again, before the point is settled. Indeed, the question as to the truth of the tale of Troy divine' still continues, much of it resting upon the talismanic word ameipos. Probably Homer had the same notion of distance that à coquette has of time; and when he talks of boundless, means half a mile; as the latter, by a like figure, when she says eternal attachment, simply specifies three weeks. IV. The night hath closed on Helle's stream, But conscious shepherds bless it still. Of him who felt the Dardan's arrow; That mighty heap of gather'd ground Which Ammon's son ran proudly round,* By nations raised, by monarchs crown'd, Is now a lone and nameless barrow ! Within-thy dwelling-place how narrow! Without-can only strangers breathe The name of him that was beneath : Dust long outlasts the storied stone; But Thou-thy very dust is gone! V. Late, late to-night will Dian cheer Yes, there is light in that lone chamber, Are thrown the fragrant beads of amber, A Koran of illumined dyes; • Before his Persian invasion, and crowned the altar with laurel, &c. He was afterwards imitated by Caracalla in his race. It is believed that the last also poisoned a friend, named Festus, for the sake of new Patroclan games. I have seen the sheep feeding on the tombs of Esietes and Antilochus: the first is in the centre of the plain. When rubbed, the amber is susceptible of a perfume, which is slight, but not disagreeable. The belief in amulets engraved on gems, or enclosed in gold boxes, containing scraps from the Koran, worn round the neck, wrist, or arm, is still universal in the East. The Koorsee (throne) verse in the second chapter of the Koran describes the attributes of the Most High, and is engraved in this manner, and worn by the pious, as the most esteemed and sublime of all sentences. Comboloio,' a Turkish rosary. The MSS., particularly those of the Persians, are richly adorned and illuminated. The Greek females are kept in utter ignorance; but many of the Turkish girls are highly accomplished, though not actually qualified for a Christian coterie. Perhaps some of our own blues' might not be the worse for bleaching. [night? Are gather'd in that gorgeous room; But yet it hath an air of gloom. She, of this Peri cell the sprite, What does she hence, and on so rude a VI. Wrapt in the darkest sable vest, Which none save noblest Moslem wear. To guard from winds of heaven the breast As heaven itself to Selim dear, With cautious steps the thicket threading, And starting oft, as through the glade The gust its hollow moanings made, Till on the smoother pathway treading, More free her timid bosom beat, The maid pursued her silent guide; And though her terror urged retreat, How could she quit her Selim's side? How teach her tender lips to chide? VII. They reach'd at length a grotto, hewn By nature, but enlarged by art, Where oft her lute she wont to tune, And oft her Koran conn'd apart; And oft in youthful reverie She dream'd what Paradise might be: Where woman's parted soul shall go, Her Prophet had disdain'd to show; But Selim's mansion was secure, Nor deem'd she, could he long endure His bower in other worlds of bliss, Without her, most beloved in this! Oh! who so dear with him could dwell? What Houri soothe him half so well? VIII. (grot: Since last she visited the spot, But in a nook within the cell IX. His robe of pride was thrown aside, His brow no high-crown'd turban bore, But in its stead a shawl of red, Wreathed lightly round, his temples wore, That dagger, on whose hilt the gem Were worthy of a diadem, No longer glitter'd at his waist, Where pistols unadorn'd were braced · And from his belt a sabre swung, X. 'I said I was not what I seem'd ; And now thou seest my words were true: I have a tale thou hast not dream'd, If sooth-its truth must others rue. My story now 'twere vain to hide, I must not see thee Osman's bride : But had not thine own lips declared How much of that young heart I shared, I could not, must not, yet have shown The darker secret of my own. In this I speak not now of love; That, let time, truth, and peril prove: But first-oh! never wed anotherZuleika! I am not thy brother!' XI. 'Oh! not my brother !-yet unsay— Oh! thou wilt love me now no more! Thy sister-friend-Zuleika still. Far better with the dead to be, Than live thus nothing now to thee! Perhaps far worse, for now I know Why Giaffir always seem'd thy foe; And I, alas! am Giaffir's child, For whom thou wert contemn'd, reviled. If not thy sister-wouldst thou save My life, oh, bid me be thy slave!' XII. 'My slave, Zuleika !—nay, I'm thine : And be that thought thy sorrow's balm. "Gallongée, or Galiongi, a sailor, that is, a Turkish sailor: the Greeks navigate, the Turks work the guns. Their dress is picturesque ; and I have seen the Capitan Pacha more than mice wearing it as a kind of incog. Their legs, however, are generally maker. The buskins described in the text as aathed behind with silver are those of an Arnaut robber, who my host (he had quitted the profession) at his Pyrgo, near Castouni in the Morea: they were plated in scales one over the other, like the back of an armadillo. So may the Koran verse display'd Although thy Sire's my deadliest foe. That Selim late was deem'd to thee; Though here I must no more remain. The characters on all Turkish scimitars contain some. times the name of the place of their manufacture, but more generally a text from the Koran, in letters of gold. Amongst those in my possession is one with a blade of singular construction; it is very broad, and the edge notched into serpentine curves like the ripple of water, or the wavering of flame. I asked the Armenian who sold it what possible use such a figure could add. He said, in Italian, that he did not know; but the Mussulmans had an idea that those of this form gave a severer wound, and liked it because it was piu feroce. I did not much admire the reason, but bought it for its peculiarity. It is to be observed that every allusion to any thing or personage in the Old Testament, such as the Ark or Cain, is equally the privilege of Mussulman and Jew: indeed, the former profess to be much better acquainted with the lives, true and fabulous, of the patriarchs, than is warranted by our own sacred writ; and not content with Adam, they have a biography of Pre-Adamites. Solomon is the monarch of all necromancy, and Moses a prophet inferior only to Christ and Mahomet. Zuleika is the Persian name of Potiphar's wife; and her amour with Joseph constitutes one of the finest poems in their language. It is therefore no violation of costume to put the names of Cain or Noah into the mouth of a Moslem. Paswan Oglou, the rebel of Widdin; who, for the last years of his life, set the whole power of the Porte at defiance. Nor last, nor least in high command, By Giaffir's order drugg'd and given, Dismiss'd Abdallah's hence to heaven. Reclined and feverish in the bath, He, when the hunter's sport was up, But little deem'd a brother's wrath To quench his thirst had such a cup : The bowl a bribed attendant bore; He drank one draught, nor needed more ! † If thou my tale, Zuleika, doubt, Call Haroun-he can tell it out. XV. 'The deed once done, and Paswan's feud In part suppress'd, though ne'er subdued, Abdallah's Pachalic was gain'd: Thou know'st not what in our Divan XVI. 'Within thy father's house are foes; Not all who break his bread are true: To these should I my birth disclose, His days, his very hours, were few : They only want a heart to lead, A hand to point them to the deed. But Haroun only knows, or knew, This tale, whose close is almost nigh: He in Abdallah's palace grew, And held that post in his Serai Which holds he here-he saw him die : But what could single slavery do? • Horse-tail,' the standard of a Pacha. + Giaffir, Pacha of Argyro Castro, or Scutari, I am not sure which, was actually taken off by the Albanian Ali in the manner described in the text. Ali Pacha, while I was in the country, married the daughter of his victim, some years after the event had taken place at a bath in Sophia, or Adrianople. The poison was mixed in the cup of coffee, which is presented before the sherbet by the bath-keeper, after dressing. Avenge his lord? alas! too late: Or save his son from such a fate? He chose the last, and when elate With foes subdued, or friends betray'd, Proud Giaffir in high triumph sate, He led me helpless to his gate, And not in vain it seems essay'd To save the life for which he pray'd. The knowledge of my birth secured From all and each, but most from me; Thus Giaffir's safety was ensured. Removed he too from Roumelie To this our Asiatic side, Far from our seats by Danube's tide, With none but Haroun, who retains Such knowledge--and that Nubian feels A tyrant's secrets are but chains, From which the captive gladly steals, And this and more to me reveals: Such still to guilt just Allah sendsSlaves, tools, accomplices-no friends! XVII. 'All this, Zuleika, harshly sounds; And long must wear: this Galiongée, The hands that wield are not remote; Is fill'd-once quaff'd, they ne'er repine Our Prophet might forgive the slaves; They're only infidels in wine. XVIII. 'What could I be? Proscribed at home, Beneath inaction's sluggish yoke, His captive, though with dread, resigning, My thraldom for a season broke, On promise to return before The day when Giaffir's charge was o'er. Survey'd Earth, Ocean, Sun, and Sky, XIX. 'The shallop of a trusty Moor I sought by turns, and saw them all : Is done, 'twill then be time more meet XX. 'Tis true, they are a lawless brood, With them hath found-may find a place: That never sees with terror's eyes; The wisdom of the cautious Frank- And oft around the cavern fire To snatch the Rayahs from their fate.‡ * Ay! let me like the ocean-Patriarch roam. Bound where thou wilt, my barb! or glide, my prow! But be the star that guides the wanderer, Thou! For thee in those bright isles is built a bower cease! He makes a solitude, and calls it-peace! This first of voyages is one of the few with which the Mussulmans profess much acquaintance. + The wandering life of the Arabs, Tartars, and Turkomans, will be found well detailed in any book of Eastern travels. That it possesses a charm peculiar to itself, cannot be denied. A young French renegado confessed to Chateaubriand, that he never found himself alone, galloping in the desert, without a sensation approaching to rapture, which was indescribable. Jannat al Aden,' the perpetual abode, the Mussulman paradise. |