Giaour 2

= The Giaour Part 2 =
a fragment of a Turkish tale
Part 2 Lines 501 - 1000
Text from the 11th Print Edition, 1814 
Printed by T. Davison for J. Murray
=== Lines 0501-0600 ===
# It tell, and caught one stain of earth.
# The cygnet nobly walks the water 
# So moved on earth Circassia's daughter
# The loveliest bird of Franguestan! 
# As rears her crest the ruffled Swan, 
# And spurns the wave with wings of pride, 
# When pass the steps of stranger man 
# Along the banks that bound her tide; 
# Thus rose fair Leila's whiter neck: 
# Thus armed with beauty would she check 
# Intrusion's glance, till Folly's gaze 
# Shrunk from the charms it meant to praise. 
# Thus high and graceful was her gait; 
# Her heart as tender to her mate 
# Her mate stern Hassan, who was he? 
# Alas! that name was not for thee! 
# Stern Hassan hath a journey ta'en 
# With twenty vassals in his train, 
# Each arm'd as best becomes a man 
# With arquebuss and ataghan; 
# The chief before, as deck'd for war 
# Bears in his belt the scimitar 
# Stain'd with the best of Arnaut blood, 
# When in the pass the rebels stood, 
# And few returned to tell the tale 
# Of what befell in Fame's vale. 
# The pistols which his girdle bore 
# Were those that once a pasha wore, 
# Which still, though gemm'd and boss'd with gold, 
# Even robbers tremble to behold. 
# 'Tis said he goes to woo a bride 
# More true than her who left his side; 
# The faithless slave that broke her bower, 
# And, worse than faithless, for a Giaour!
# The sun's last rays are on the hill, 
# And sparkle in the fountain rill, 
# Whose welcome waters cool and clear, 
# Draw blessings from the mountaineer; 
# Here may the loitering merchant Greek 
# Find that repose 'twere vain- to seek 
# In cities lodg'd too near his lord, 
# And trembling for his secret hoard- 
# Here may he rest where none can see, 
# In crowds a slave, in deserts free; 
# And with forbidden wine may stain 
# The bowl a Moslem must not drain. 
# The foremost Tartar's in the gap, 
# Conspicuous by his yellow cap, 
# The rest in lengthening line the while 
# Wind slowly through the long defile; 
# Above, the mountain rears a peak, 
# Where vultures whet the thirsty beak, 
# And their's may be a feast to-night,
# Shall tempt them down ere morrow's light. 
# Beneath, a river's wintry stream 
# Has shrunk before the summer beam, 
# And left a channel bleak and bare, 
# Save shrubs that spring to perish there.
# Each side the midway path there lay 
# Small broken crags of granite gray, 
# By time or mountain lightning riven, 
# From summits clad in mists of heaven; 
# For where is he that hath beheld
# The peak of Liakura unveil'd? 
# They reach the grove of pine at last, 
# "Bismillah! now the peril's past; 
# a For yonder view the opening plain, 
# "And there we'll prick our steeds amain:"
# The Chiaus spake, and as he said, 
# A bullet whistled o'er his head; 
# The foremost Tartar bites the ground! 
# Scarce had they time to check the rein 
# Swift from their steeds the riders bound, 
# But three shall never mount again, 
# Unseen the foes that gave the wound, 
# The dying ask revenge in vain. 
# With steel unsheath'd, and carbine bent, 
# Some o'er their courser's harness leant,
# Half shelter'd by the steed, 
# Some fly behind the nearest rock, 
# And there await the coming shock, 
# Nor tamely stand to bleed 
# Beneath the shaft of foes unseen,
# Who dare not quit their craggy screen. 
# Stern Hassan only from his horse 
# Disdains to light, and keeps his course, 
# Till fiery flashes in the van 
# Proclaim too sure the robber-clan
# Have well secur'd the only way 
# Could now avail the promis'd prey ; 
# Then ctirl'd his very beard 87 with ire, 
# And glared his eye with fiercer fire. 
# "Though far and near the bullets hiss,
# "Five scaped a bloodier hour than this." 
# And now the foe their covert quit, 
# And call his vassals to submit ; 
# Rut Hassan's frown and furious word 
# Are dreaded more than hostile sword, GOO 
# Nor of his little band a man 
# Resigned carbine or ataghan 
=== Lines 0601-0700 ===
# Nor raised the craven cry, Amaun!
# In fuller sight, more near and near, 
# The lately ambush'd foes appear,
# And issuing from the grove advance, 
# Some who on battle charger prance. 
# Who leads them on with foreign brand, 
# Far flashing in his red right hand ? 
# "Tis he 'tis he I know him now, 
# "I know him by his pallid brow; 
# "I know him by the evil eye
# "That aids his envious treachery; 
# "I know him by his jet-black barb, 
# "Though now array 'd in Arnaut garb,
# "Apostate from his own vile faith, 
# "It shall not save him from the death; 
# "'Tis he, well met in any hour, 
# "Lost Leila's love accursed Giaour!" 
# As rolls the river into ocean,
# lu sable torrent wildly streaming; 
# As the sea-tide's opposing motion 
# In azure column proudly gleaming, 
# Beats back the current many a rood, 
# In curling foam and mingling flood;
# While eddying whirl, and breaking wave, 
# Roused by the blast of winter rave; 
# Through sparkling spray in thundering clash, 
# The lightnings of the waters flash 
# In aweful whiteness o'er the shore, 
# That shines and shakes beneath the roar; 
# Thus as the stream and ocean greet, 
# With waves that madden as they meet 
# Thus join the bands whom mutual wrong, 
# And fate and fury drive along.
# The bickering sabres' shivering jar 
# And pealing wide or ringing near 
# It's echoes on the throbbing ear 
# The deathshot hissing from afar 
# The shock the shout the groan of war
# Reverberate along that vale, 
# More suited to the shepherd's tale: 
# Though few the numbers their's the strife, 
# That neither spares nor speaks for life! 
# Ah! fondly youthful hearts can press, 
# To seize and share the dear caress;
# But Love itself could never pant 
# For all that Beauty sighs to grant, 
# With half the fervour Hate bestows 
# Upon the last embrace of foes,
# When grappling in the fight they fold 
# Those arms that ne'er shall lose their hold; 
# Friends meet to part Love laughs at faith; 
# True foes, once met, are joined till death! 
# With sabre shiver'd to the hilt, 
# Yet dripping with the blood he spilt; 
# Yet strain'd within the severed hand 
# Which quivers round that faithless brand; 
# His turban far behind him roli'd, 
# And cleft in twain its firmest fold; 
# His flowing robe by falchion torn, 
# And crimson as those clouds of mom 
# That streak'd with dusky red, portend 
# The day shall have a stormy end; 
# A stain on every bush that bore
# A fragment of his palampore,
# His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven, 
# His back to earth, his face to heaven, 
# Fall'ii Hassan lies his unclos'd eve 
# Yet lowering on his enemy, 
# As if the hour that seal'd his fate, 
# Surviving left his quenchless hate; 
# And o'er him bends that foe with 
# As dark as his that bled below, 
# "Yes, Leila sleeps beneath the wave, 
# "But his shall be a redder grave; 
# "Her spirit pointed well the steel 
# "Which taught that felon heart to feel.
# "He call'd the Prophet, but his power
# "Was vain against the vengeful Giaour:
# "He called on Alla but the word 
# "Arose unheeded or unheard. 
# "Thou Paynim fool ! could Leila's prayer 
# "Be pass'd, and thine accorded there? 
# "I watch'd my time, I leagu'd with these,
# "The traitor in his turn to seize; 
# "My wrath is wreak'd, the deed is done," 
# "And now I go but go alone." 
# The browzing camels' bells are tinkling 
# His Mother looked from her lattice high, 
# She saw the dews of eve besprinkling 
# The pasture green beneath her eye, 
# She saw the planets faintly twinkling, 
# " 'Tis twilight sure his train is nigh." 
# She could not rest in the garden-bower, 
# But gazed through the grate of his steepest tower 
# "Why comes he not ? his steeds are fleet, 
# "Nor shrink they from the summer heat; 
# "Why sends not the Bridegroom his promised gift, 
# "Is his heart more cold, or his barb less swift?
# "Oh, false reproach ! yon Tartar now 
# "Has gained our nearest mountain's brow, 
=== Lines 0701-0800 ===
# "And warily the steep descends, 
# "And now within the valley bends; 
# "And he bears the gift at his saddle bow
# "How could I deem his courser slow? 
# "Right well my largess shall repay 
# "His welcome speed, and weary way." 
# The Tartar lighted at the gate, 
# But scarce upheld his fainting weight;
# His swarthy visage spake distress, 
# But this might be from weariness; 
# His garb with sanguine spots was dyed, 
# But these might be from his courser's side; 
# He drew the token from his vest 
# Angel of Death ! 'tis Hassan's cloven crest! 
# His calpac rent his caftan red
# "Lady, a fearful bride thy Son hath wed 
# "Me, not from mercy, did they spare, 
# "But this empurpled pledge to bear. 
# "Peace to the brave! whose blood is spilt 
# "Woe to the Giaour! for his the guilt." 
# A turban carv'd in coarsest stone, 
# A pillar with rank weeds o'ergrown, 
# Whereon can now be scarcely read 
# The Koran verse that mourns the dead; 
# Point out the spot where Hassan fell 
# A victim in that lonely dell. 
# There sleeps as true an Osmanlie 
# As e'er at Mecca bent the knee; 
# As ever scorn'd forbidden wine, 
# Or pray'd with face towards the shrine, 
# In orisons resumed anew 
# At solemn sound of "Alla Hu!"
# Yet died he by a stranger's hand, 
# And stranger in his native land 
# Yet died he as in arms he stood, 
# And unaveng'd, at least in blood. 
# But him the maids of Paradise 
# Impatient to their halls invite, 
# And the dark Heaven of Houri's eyes 
# On him shall glance for ever bright ; 
# They come their kerchiefs green they wave, 
# And welcome with a kiss the brave! 
# Who falls in battle 'gainst a Giaour, 
# Is worthiest an immortal bower. 
# But thou, false Infidel! shalt writhe 
# Beneath avenging Monkir's scythe; 
# And from its torment 'scape alone 
# To wander round lost Eblis' throne; 
# And fire unquench'd, unquenchable 
# Around within thy heart shall dwell, 
# Nor ear can hear, nor tongue can tell 
# The tortures of that inward hell! 
# But first, on earth as Vampire sent, 
# Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent; 
# Then ghastly haunt thy native place, 
# And suck the blood of all thy race, 
# There from thy daughter, sister, wife, 
# At midnight drain the stream of life; 
# Yet loathe the banquet which perforce 
# Must feed thy livid living corse; 
# Thy victims ere they yet expire 
# Shall know the daemon for their sire, 
# As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
# Thy flowers are wither'd on the stem. 
# But one that for thy crime must fall 
# The youngest most belov'd of all, 
# Shall bless thee with a. father's name 
# That word shall wrap thy heart in flame! 
# Yet must thou end thy task, and mark 
# Her cheek's last tinge, her eye's last spark, 
# And the last glassy glance must view 
# Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue; 
# Then with unhallowed hand shalt tear 
# The tresses of her yellow hair,
# Of which in life a lock when shorn, 
# Affection's fondest pledge was worn; 
# But now is borne away by thee, 
# Memorial of thine agony!
# Wet with thine own best blood shall drip,
# Thy gnashing tooth and haggard lip; 
# Then stalking to thy sullen grave 
# Go and with Gouls and Afrits rave; 
# Till these in horror shrink away 
# From spectre more accursed than they! 
# "How name ye yon lone Caloyer? 
# "His features I have scann'd before 
# "In mine own land 'tis many a year, 
# "Since, dashing by the lonely shore,
# "I saw him urge as fleet a steed 
# "As ever serv'd a horseman's need. 
# "But once I saw that face yet then 
# "It was so mark'd with inward pain 
# "I could not pass it by again;
# "It breathes the same dark spirit now, 
# " As death were stamped upon his brow.
# " 'Tis twice three years at summer tide 
# "Since first among our freres he came; 
# "And here it soothes him to abide 
# "For some dark deed he will not name. 
# "But never at our vesper prayer, 
=== Lines 0801-0900 ===
# "Nor e'er before confession chair 
# "Kneels he, nor recks lie when arise 
# "Incense or anthem to the skies, 805 
# "But broods within his cell alone, 
# "His faith and race alike unknown. 
# "The sea from Paynim land he crost, 
# "And here ascended from the coast, 
# "Yet seems he not of Othman race,
# "But only Christian in his face: 
# "I'd judge him some stray renegade, 
# "Repentant of the change he made, 
# "Save that he shuns our holy shrine, 
# "Nor tastes the sacred bread and wine.
# "Great largess to these walls he brought, 
# " And thus our abbot's favour bought; 
# "But were I Prior, not a day 
# " 'Should brook such stranger's further stay, 
# "Or pent within our penance cell
# "Should doom him there for aye to dwell. 
# "Much in his visions mutters he 
# "Of maiden ? whelmed beneath the sea; 
# "Of sabres clashing foemen flying, 
# "Wrongs aveng'd and Moslem dying.
# "On cliff he hath been known to stand, 
# "And rave as to some bloody hand 
# "Fresh sever'd from its parent limb, 
# "Invisible to all but him, 
# "Which beckons onward to his grave,
# "And lures to leap into the wave." 
# Dark and unearthly is the scowl 
# That glares beneath his dusky cowl 
# The flash of that dilating eye 
# Reveals too much of times gone by 
# Though varying indistinct its hue, 
# Oft will his glance the gazer rue 
# For in it lurks that nameless spell 
# Which speaks itself unspeakable 
# A spirit yet unquelled and high 
# That claims and keeps ascendancy, 
# And like the bird whose pinions quake 
# But cannot fly the gazing snake 
# Will others quail beneath his look, 
# Nor 'scape the glance they scarce can brook. 
# From him the half-affrighted Friar 
# When met alone would fain retire 
# As if that eye and bitter smile 
# Transferred to others fear and guile 
# Not oft to smile descendeth he,
# And when he doth 'tis sad to see 
# That he but mocks at Misery. 
# How that pale lip will curl and quiver! 
# Then fix once more as if for ever 
# As if his sorrow or disdain
# Forbade him e'er to smile again. 
# Well were it so such ghastly mirth 
# From joyaunce ne'er deriv'd its birth. 
# But sadder still it were to trace 
# What once were feelings in that face 
# Time hath not yet the features fixed, 
# But brighter traits with evil mixed 
# And there are hues not always faded, 
# Which speak a mind not all degraded 
# Even by the crimes through which it waded
# The common crowd but see the gloom 
# Of wayward deeds and fitting doom 
# The close observer can espy 
# A noble soul, and lineage high. 
# Alas! though both bestowed in vain,
# Which Grief could change and Guilt could stain 
# It was no vulgar tenement 
# To which such lofty gifts were lent, 
# And still with little less than dread 
# On such the sight is riveted.
# The roofless cot decayed and rent, 
# Will scarce delay the passer by 
# The tower by war or tempest bent, 
# While yet may frown one battlement, 
# Demands and daunts the stranger's eye
# Each ivied arch and pillar lone, 
# Pleads haughtily for glories gone! 
# "His floating robe around him folding, 
# "Slow sweeps he through the columned aisle 
# "With dread beheld with gloom beholding
# "The rites that sanctify the pile. 
# "But when the anthem shakes the choir, 
# "And kneel the monks his steps retire 
# "By yonder lone and wavering torch 
# "His aspect glares within the porch;
# "There will he pause till all is done 
# "And hear the prayer but utter none. 
# "See by the half-illumin'd wall 
# "His hood fly back his dark hair fall 
# "That pale brow wildly wreathing round, 
# "As if the Gorgon there had bound 
# "The sablest of the serpent-braid 
# "That o'er her fearful forehead strayed. 
# "For he declines the convent oath, 
# "And leaves those locks unhallowed growth
# "But wears our garb in all beside; 
# "And not from piety but pride 
=== Lines 0901-1000 ===
# "Gives wealth to walls that never heard 
# "Of his one holy vow nor word. 
# "Lo! mark ye as the harmony
# "Peals louder praises to the sky 
# "That livid cheek that stoney air 
# "Of mixed defiance and despair! 
# "Saint Francis ! keep him from the shrine! 
# "Else may we dread the wrath divine
# "Made manifest by awful sign. 
# "If ever evil angel bore 
# "The form of mortal, such he wore 
# "By all my hope of sins forgiven 
# "Such looks are not of earth nor heaven!"
# To love the softest hearts are prone, 
# But such can ne'er be all his own; 
# Too timid in his woes to share, 
# Too meek to meet, or brave despair; 
# And sterner hearts alone may feel 
# The wound that time can never heal. 
# The rugged metal of the mine 
# Must burn before its surface shine, 
# But plung'd within the furnace-flame, 
# It bends and melts though still the same; 
# Then tempered to thy want, or will, 
# 'Twill serve thee to defend or kill; 
# A breast-plate for thine hour of need, 
# Or blade to bid thy foeman bleed; 
# But if a dagger's form it bear, 
# Let those who shape it's edge, beware! 
# Thus passion's fire, and woman's art, 
# Can turn and tame the sterner heart; 
# From these its form and tone are ta'en, 
# And what they make it, must remain,  
# But break before it bend again. 
# If solitude succeed to grief, 
# Release from pain is slight relief; 
# The vacant bosom's wilderness 
# Might thank the pang that made it less.
# We loathe what none are left to share- 
# Even bliss 'twere woe alone to bear; 
# The heart once left thus desolate, 
# Must fly at last for ease to hate. 
# It is as if the dead could feel 
# The icy worm around them steal, 
# And shudder, as the reptiles creep 
# To revel o'er their rotting sleep 
# Without the power to scare away 
# The cold consumers of their clay!
# It is as if the desart-bird, 
# Whose beak unlocks her bosom's stream; 
# To still her famish'd nestlings' scream, 
# Nor mourns a life to them transferr'd; 
# Should rend her rash devoted breast, 
# And find them flown her empty nest. 
# The keenest pangs the wretched find 
# Are rapture to the dreary void 
# The leafless desart of the mind 
# The waste of feelings unemploy'd 
# Who would be doom'd to gaze upon 
# A sky without a cloud or sun? 
# Less hideous far the tempest's roar, 
# Than ne'er to brave the billows more-
# Thrown, when the war of winds is o'er,
# A lonely wreck on fortune's shore, 
# 'Mid sullen calm, and silent bay, 
# Unseen to drop by dull decay; 
# Better to sink beneath the shock 
# Than moulder piecemeal on the rock! 
# "Father! thy days have pass'd in peace, 
# "Mid counted beads, and countless prayer; 
# "To bid the sins of others cease, 
# "Thyself without a crime or care, 
# "Save transient ills that all must bear,
# "Has been thy lot, from youth to age, 
# "And thou wilt bless thee from the rage 
# "Of passions tierce and uncontroufd, 
# "Such as thy penitents unfold, 
# "Whose secret sins and sorrows rest 
# "Within thy pure and pitying breast. 
# "My days, though few, have pass'd below 
# "In much of joy, but more of woe; 
# "Yet still in hours of love or strife, 
# "I've scap'd the weariness of life; 
# "Now leagu'd with friends, now girt by foes, 
# "I loath'd the languor of repose; 
# "Now nothing left to love or hate, 
# "No more with hope or pride elate; 
# "I'd rather be the thing that crawls
# "Most noxious o'er a dungeon's walls, 
# "Than pass my dull, unvarying days, 
# "Condemned to meditate and gaze 
# "Yet, lurks a wish within my breast 
# "For rest but not to feel 'tis rest
# "Soon shall my fate that wish fulfil; 
# "And I shall sleep without the dream 
# "Of what I was, and would be still, 
# "Dark as to thee my deeds may seem 
# "My memory now is but the tomb
# "Of joys long dead my hope their doom:
# "Though better to have died with those
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Category:The Giaour
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