Already shared the captives and the prize,
Though far the distant foe they thus despise ;
"Tis but to sail-no doubt to-morrow's sun
Will see the Pirates bound-their haven won!
Meantime the watch may slumber, if they will,
Nor only wake to war, but dreaming kill.
Though all, who can, disperse on shore and seek
To flesh their glowing valour on the Greek ;
How well such deed becomes the turban'd brave,
To bare the sabre's edge before a slave!
Infest his dwelling--but forbear to slay,
Their arms are strong, yet merciful to-day,
And do not deign to smite because they may !
Unless some gay caprice suggests the blow,
To keep in practice for the coming foe.
Revel and rout the evening hours beguile,
And they who wish to wear a head must smile;
For Moslem mouths produce their choicest
cheer,

And hoard their curses, till the coast is clear.

II.

High in his hall reclines the turban'd Seyd:
Around-the bearded chiefs he came to lead.
Removed the banquet, and the last pilaff-
Forbidden draughts, 'tis said, he dared to quaff,
Though to the rest the sober berry's juice,*
The slaves bear round for rigid Moslems' use;
The long chibouques + dissolving cloud supply,
While dance the Almas to wild minstrelsy.
The rising morn will view the chiefs embark;
But waves are somewhat treacherous in the
dark;

And revellers may more securely sleep

On silken couch than o'er the rugged deep;
Feast there who can-nor combat till they must,
And less to conquest than to Korans trust;
And yet the numbers crowded in his host
Might warrant more than even the Pacha's
boast.

Bows his bent head, his hand salutes the flour
Ere yet his tongue the trusted tidings bore:
Escaped, is here-himself would tell the rest.
'A captive Dervise, from the Pirate's nest
He took the sign from Seyd's assenting eye,
And led the holy man in silence nigh.
His arms were folded on his dark-green vest,
His step was feeble, and his look deprest;
Yet worn he seem'd of hardship more than years
Vow'd to his God-his sable locks he wore,
And pale his cheek with penance, not from fears
And these his lofty cap rose proudly o'er;
Around his form his loose long robe was thrown.
And wrapt a breast bestow'd on Heaven alone,
Submissive, yet with self-possession mann'd,
He calmly met the curious eyes that scann'd;
And question of his coming fain would seek,
Before the Pacha's will allow'd to speak.

I had no death to fear, nor wealth to boast, Beyond the wandering freedom which I lost; At length a fisher's humble boat by night Afforded hope, and offer'd chance of flight: I seized the hour, and find my safety here; With thee-most mighty Pacha! who can fear? 'How speed the outlaws? stand they well prepared, (guard

Their plunder'd wealth, and robber's rock, Dream they of this our preparation, doom d To view with fire their scorpion nest consumed?

Pacha! the fetter'd captive's mourning eye, That weeps for flight, but ill can play the spy. I only heard the reckless waters roar, Those waves that would not bear me from the I only mark'd the glorious sun and sky, (shore. Too bright-too blue-for my captivity;

It has been objected that Conrad's entering disguised in a spy is out of nature;-perhaps so. I find something not se like it in history.

Anxious to explore with his own eyes the state of the Vandals, Majorian ventured, after disguising the colour of hair, to visit Carthage in the character of his own ambassad and Genseric was afterwards mortified by the discovery the Such an anecdote may be rejected as an improbable fit he had entertained and dismissed the Emperor of the Ran but it is a fiction which would not have been imagined w in the life of a hero.'-GIBBON, Decline and Fall, vol vi p 180.

And felt that all which Freedom's bosom cheers, Must break my chain before it dried my tears. This may'st thou judge, at least, from my escape, They little deem of aught in peril's shape; Else vainly had I pray'd or sought the chance That leads me here-if eyed with vigilance: The careless guard that did not see me fly, May watch as idly when thy power is nigh. Pacha! my limbs are faint-and nature craves Food for my hunger, rest from tossing waves: Permit my absence-peace be with thee! Peace With all around!-now grant repose-release.' 'Stay, Dervise! I have more to question-stay, I do command thee-sit-dost hear?-obey! More I must ask, and food the slaves shall bring; Thou shalt not pine where all are banqueting: The supper done-prepare thee to reply, Clearly and full-I love not mystery.' Twere vain to guess what shook the pious man, Who look'd not lovingly on that Divan; Nor show'd high relish for a banquet prest, And less respect for every fellow-guest. Twas but a moment's peevish hectic pass'd Along his cheek, and tranquillized as fast : He sate him down in silence, and his look Resumed the calmness which before forsook : The feast was usher'd in, but sumptuous fare He shunn'd as if some poison mingled there. For one so long condemn'd to toil and fast, Methinks he strangely spares the rich repast. 'What ails thee, Dervise? eat-dost thou sup

pose

This feast a Christian's? or my friends thy foes?
Why dost thou shun the salt? that sacred pledge.
Which, once partaken, blunts the sabre's edge,
Makes even contending tribes in peace unite,
And hated hosts seem brethren to the sight!'
'Salt seasons dainties--and my food is still
The humblest root, my drink the simplest rill;
And my stern vow and order's laws oppose
To break or mingle bread with friends or foes:
I' may seem strange-if there be aught to dread,
That peril rests upon my single head;
Bat for thy sway-nay more-thy Sultan's

throne.

I taste nor bread nor banquet-save alone;
Infringed our order's rule, the Prophet's rage
To Mecca's dome might bar my pilgrimage.'
Well-as thou wilt-ascetic as thou art-
One question answer; then in peace depart.
How many?-Ha! it cannot sure be day?
What star-what sun is bursting on the bay?
It shines a lake of fire!-away-away!
Ho! treachery! my guards! my scimitar!
The galleys feed the flames--and I afar!
Accursed Dervise !-these thy tidings-thou
Some villain spy-seize-cleave him-slay him
now!'

Up rose the Dervise with that burst of light,
Nor less his change of form appall'd the sight;
Up rose that Dervise-not in saintly garb,
But like a warrior bounding on his barb,
Dash'd his high cap, and tore his robe away-
Shone his mail'd breast, and flash'd his sabre's
ray!

His close but glittering casque, and sable plume, More glittering eye, and black brow's sabler gloom,

Glared on the Moslems' eyes some Afrit sprite,
Whose demon death-blow left no hope for fight.
The wild confusion, and the swarthy glow
Of flames on high, and torches from below;
The shriek of terror, and the mingling yell-
For swords began to clash, and shouts to swell-
Flung o'er that spot of earth the air of hell!
Distracted, to and fro, the flying slaves
Behold but bloody shore and fiery waves;
Nought heeded they the Pacha's angry cry,
They seize that Dervise !-seize on Zatanai !*
He saw their terror-check'd the first despair
That urged him but to stand and perish there,
Since far too early and too well obey'd,
The flame was kindled ere the signal made;
He saw their terror-from his baldric drew
His bugle-brief the blast-but shrilly blew :
'Tis answer'd-' Well ye speed, my gallant

crew!

Why did I doubt their quickness of career,
And deem design had left me single here?'
Sheds fast atonement for its first delay;
Sweeps his long arm-that sabre's whirling sway
And makes the many basely quail to one.
Completes his fury what their fear begun,
The cloven turbans o'er the chamber spread,
And scarce an arm dare rise to guard its head:
Even Seyd, convulsed, o'erwhelm'd with rage,
surprise,

Retreats before him, though he still defies.
No craven he- and yet he dreads the blow,
So much Confusion magnifies his foe!
His blazing galleys still distract his sight,
He tore his beard, and foaming fled the fight ;t
For now the pirates pass'd the Haram gate,
And burst within-and it were death to wait;
Where wild Amazement shrieking-kneeling-
throws

The sword aside-in vain-the blood o'erflows!
The Corsairs pouring, haste to where within,
Invited Conrad's bugle, and the din
Of groaning victims, and wild cries for life,
Proclaim'd how well he did the work of strife.
They shout to find him grim and lonely there,
A glutted tiger mangling in his lair!

But short their greeting, shorter his reply-
'Tis well-but Seyd escapes,—and he must die:
Much hath been done, but more remains to do-
Their galleys blaze-why not their city too?'

• Satan.

† A common and not very novel effect of Mussulman anger See Prince Eugene's Memoirs, page 24. The Seraskier re roots, because he was obliged to quit the field.'