The chosen Arab’s eye
Glanced o’er his graceful shape,
His rich caparisons,
His crimson trappings gay.
But when he saw the mouth
Uncurbed, the unbridled neck,
Then flushed his cheek, and leapt his heart,
For sure he deemed that Heaven had sent
The Courser, whom no erring hand should guide.
And lo! the eager Steed
Throws his head and paws the ground,
Impatient of delay!
Then up leapt Thalaba
And away went the self-governed steed.

Far over the plain
Away went the bridleless steed;
With the dew of the morning his fetlocks were wet,
The foam frothed his limbs in the journey of noon,
Nor stayed he till over the westerly heaven
The shadows of evening had spread.
Then on a sheltered bank
The appointed Youth reposed,
And by him laid the docile courser down.
Again in the grey of the morning
Thalaba bounded up,
Over hill, over dale
Away goes the bridleless steed.
Again at eve he stops
Again the Youth descends.
His load discharged, his errand done,
Then bounded the courser away.

Heavy and dark the eve;
The Moon was hid on high,
A dim light only tinged the mist
That crost her in the path of Heaven.
All living sounds had ceased,
Only the flow of waters near was heard,
A low and lulling melody.
Fasting, yet not of want
Percipient, he on that mysterious steed
Had reached his resting place,
For expectation kept his nature up.
The flow of waters now
Awoke a feverish thirst:
Led by the sound, he moved
To seek the grateful wave.
A meteor in the hazy air
Played before his path;
Before him now it rolled
A globe of livid fire;
And now contracted to a steady light,
As when the solitary hermit prunes
His lamp’s long undulating flame:
And now its wavy point
Up-blazing rose, like a young cypress-tree
Swayed by the heavy wind;
Anon to Thalaba it moved,
And wrapped him in its pale innocuous fire:
Now in the darkness drowned
Left him with eyes bedimmed,
And now emerging [109] spread the scene to sight.

Led by the sound, and meteor-flame
Advanced the Arab youth.
Now to the nearest of the many rills
He stoops; ascending steam
Timely repels his hand,
For from its source it sprung, a boiling tide.
A second course with better hap he tries,
The wave intensly cold
Tempts to a copious draught.
There was a virtue in the wave,
His limbs that stiff with toil,
Dragged heavy, from the copious draught received
Lightness and supple strength.
O’erjoyed, and deeming the benignant Power
Who sent the reinless steed,
Had blessed the healing waters to his use
He laid him down to sleep;
Lulled by the soothing and incessant sound,
The flow of many waters, blending oft
With shriller tones and deep low murmurings
That from the fountain caves
In mingled melody
Like faery music, heard at midnight, came.

The sounds that last he heard at night
Awoke his sense at morn.
A scene of wonders lay before his eyes.
In mazy windings o’er the vale
Wandered a thousand streams;
They in their endless flow [110] had channelled deep
The rocky soil o’er which they ran,
Veining its thousand islet stones,
Like clouds that freckle o’er the summer sky,
The blue etherial ocean circling each
And insulating all.
A thousand shapes they wore, those islet stones,
And Nature with her various tints
Varied anew their thousand forms:
For some were green with moss,
Some rich with yellow lichen’s gold,
Or ruddier tinged, or grey, or silver-white,
Or sparkling sparry radiance to the sun.
Here gushed the fountains up,
Alternate light and blackness, like the play
Of sunbeams, on the warrior’s burnished arms.
Yonder the river rolled, whose bed,
Their labyrinthine lingerings o’er
Received the confluent rills.

This was a wild and wonderous scene,
Strange and beautiful, as where
By Oton-tala, like a sea [111] of stars,
The hundred sources of Hoangho burst.
High mountains closed the vale,
Bare rocky mountains, to all living things
Inhospitable, on whose sides no herb
Rooted, no insect fed, no bird awoke
Their echoes, save the Eagle, strong of wing,
A lonely plunderer, that afar
Sought in the vales his prey.

Thither towards those mountains, Thalaba
Advanced, for well he weened that there had Fate
Destined the adventures end.
Up a wide vale winding amid their depths,
A stony vale between receding heights
Of stone, he wound his way.
A cheerless place! the solitary Bee
Whose buzzing was the only sound of life
Flew there on restless wing,
Seeking in vain one blossom, where to fix.

Still Thalaba holds on,
The winding vale now narrows on his way,
And steeper of ascent
Rightward and leftward rise the rocks,
And now they meet across the vale.
Was it the toil of human hands
That hewed a passage in the rock,
Thro’ whose rude portal-way
The light of heaven was seen?
Rude and low the portal-way,
Beyond the same [112] ascending straits
Went winding up the wilds.

Still a bare, silent, solitary glen,
A fearful silence and a solitude
That made itself be felt.
And steeper now the ascent,
A rugged path, that tired
The straining muscles, toiling slowly up.
At length again a rock
Stretched o’er the narrow vale.
There also was a portal hewn,
But gates of massy iron barred the way,
Huge, solid, heavy-hinged.

There hung a horn beside the gate,
Ivory-tipt and brazen mouthed,
He took the ivory tip,
And thro’ the brazen mouth he breathed;
From rock to rock rebounding rung the blast,
Like a long thunder peal!
The gates of iron, by no human arm
Unfolded, turning on their hinges slow,
Disclosed the passage of the rock.
He entered, and the iron gates
Fell to, and closed him in.
It was a narrow winding way,
Dim lamps suspended from the vault
Lent to the gloom an agitated light.
Winding it pierced the rock,
A long descending path
By gates of iron closed;
There also hung the horn beside
Of ivory tip and brazen mouth,
Again he took the ivory tip
And gave the brazen mouth his voice again.
Not now in thunder spake the horn,
But poured a sweet and thrilling melody:
The gates flew open, and a flood of light
Rushed on his dazzled eyes.

Was it to earthly Eden lost so long,
The youth had found the wonderous way?
But earthly Eden boasts
No terraced palaces,
No rich pavilions bright with woven [113] gold.
Like these that in the vale
Rise amid odorous groves.
The astonished Thalaba
Doubting as tho’ an unsubstantial dream
Beguiled his passive sense,
A moment closed his eyes;
Still they were there ... the palaces and groves,
And rich pavilions glittering golden light.

And lo! a man, reverend in comely age
Advancing meets the youth.
“Favoured of Fortune,” he exclaimed,
“Go taste the joys of Paradise!
“The reinless steed that ranges o’er the world
“Brings hither those alone for lofty deeds
“Marked by their horoscope; permitted here
“A foretaste of the full beatitude,
“That in heroic acts they may go on
“More ardent, eager to return and reap
“Endless enjoyment here, their destined meed.
“Favoured of Fortune thou,
“Go taste the joys of Paradise!”

This said, he turned away, and left
The Youth in wonder mute;
For Thalaba stood mute
And passively received
The mingled joy that flowed on every sense.
Where’er his eye could reach
Fair structures, rain bow-hued, arose;
And rich pavilions thro’ the opening woods
Gleamed from their waving curtains sunny gold;
And winding thro’ the verdant vale
Flowed streams of liquid light;
And fluted cypresses reared up
Their living obelisks;
And broad-leaved [114] Zennars in long colonades
O’er-arched delightful walks,
Where round their trunks the thousand-tendril’d vine
Wound up and hung the bows with greener wreaths,
And clusters not their own.
Wearied with endless beauty did his eyes
Return for rest? beside him teems the earth
With tulips, like the ruddy [115] evening streaked,
And here the lily hangs her head of snow,
And here amid her sable [116] cup
Shines the red eye-spot, like one brightest star
The solitary twinkler of the night,
And here the rose expands
Her paradise [117] of leaves.

Then on his ear what sounds
Of harmony arose!
Far music and the distance-mellowed song
From bowers of merriment;
The waterfall remote;
The murmuring of the leafy groves;
The single nightingale
Perched in the Rosier by, so richly toned,
That never from that most melodious bird,
Singing a love-song to his brooding mate,
Did Thracian shepherd by the grave
Of Orpheus [118] hear a sweeter song;
Tho’ there the Spirit of the Sepulchre
All his own power infuse, to swell
The incense that he loves.

And oh! what odours the voluptuous vale
Scatters from jasmine bowers.
From yon rose wilderness,
From clustered henna, and from orange groves
That with such perfumes fill the breeze,
As Peris to their Sister bear,
When from the summit of some lofty tree
She hangs encaged, the captive of the Dives.
They from their pinions shake
The sweetness of celestial flowers,
And as her enemies impure
From that impervious poison far away
Fly groaning with the torment, she the while
Inhales her fragrant [119] food.
Such odours flowed upon the world
When at Mohammed’s nuptials, word
Went forth in Heaven to roll
The everlasting gates of Paradise
Back on their living hinges, that its gales
Might visit all below; the general bliss
Thrilled every bosom, and the family
Of man, for once [120] partook one common joy.

Full of the joy, yet still awake
To wonder, on went Thalaba;
On every side the song of mirth,
The music of festivity,
Invite the passing youth.
Wearied at length with hunger and with heat
He enters in a banquet room,
Where round a fountain brink,
On silken [121] carpets sate the festive train.
Instant thro’ all his frame
Delightful coolness spread;
The playing fount refreshed
The agitated air;
The very light came cooled thro’ silvering panes
Of pearly [122] shell, like the pale moon-beam tinged;
Or where the wine-vase [123] filled the aperture,
Rosy as rising morn, or softer gleam
Of saffron, like the sunny evening mist:
Thro’ every hue, and streaked by all
The flowing fountain played.
Around the water-edge
Vessels of wine, alternate placed,
Ruby and amber, tinged its little waves.
From golden goblets there [124]
The guests sate quaffing the delicious juice
Of Shiraz’ golden grape.

But Thalaba took not the draught
For rightly he knew had the Prophet forbidden
That beverage the mother [125] of sins.
Nor did the urgent guests
Proffer a second time the liquid fire
For in the youth’s strong eye they saw
No moveable resolve.
Yet not uncourteous, Thalaba
Drank the cool draught of innocence,
That fragrant from its dewy [126] vase
Came purer than it left its native bed.
And he partook the odorous fruits,
For all rich fruits were there.
Water-melons rough of rind,
Whose pulp the thirsty lip
Dissolved into a draught:
Pistachios from the heavy-clustered trees
Of Malavert, or Haleb’s fertile soil,
And Casbin’s [127] luscious grapes of amber hue,
That many a week endure
The summer sun intense,
Till by its powerful fire
All watery particles exhaled, alone
The strong essential sweetness ripens there.
Here cased in ice, the [128]apricot,
A topaz, crystal-set:
Here on a plate of snow
The sunny orange rests,
And still the aloes and the sandal-wood
From golden censers o’er the banquet room
Diffuse their dying sweets.

Anon a troop of females formed the dance
Their ancles bound with [129]bracelet-bells
That made the modulating harmony.
Transparent [130] garments to the greedy eye
Gave all their harlot limbs,
That writhed, in each immodest gesture skilled.

With earnest eyes the banqueters
Fed on the sight impure;
And Thalaba, he gazed,
But in his heart he bore a talisman
Whose blessed Alchemy
To virtuous thoughts refined
The loose suggestions of the scene impure.
Oneiza’s image swam before his sight,
His own Arabian Maid.
He rose, and from the banquet room he rushed,
And tears ran down his burning cheek,
And nature for a moment woke the thought
And murmured, that from all domestic joys
Estranged, he wandered o’er the world
A lonely being, far from all he loved.
Son of Hodeirah, not among thy crimes
That murmur shall be written!

From tents of revelry,
From festal bowers, to solitude he ran,
And now he reached where all the rills
Of that well-watered garden in one tide
Rolled their collected waves.
A straight and stately bridge
Stretched its long arches o’er the ample stream.
Strong in the evening and distinct its shade
Lay on the watry mirror, and his eye
Saw it united with its parent pile
One huge fantastic fabric. Drawing near,
Loud from the chambers [131] of the bridge below,
Sounds of carousal came and song,
And unveiled women bade the advancing youth
Come merry-make with them.
Unhearing or unheeding, Thalaba
Past o’er with hurried pace,
And plunged amid the forest solitude.
Deserts of Araby!
His soul returned to you.
He cast himself upon the earth
And closed his eyes, and called
The voluntary vision up.
A cry as of distress
Aroused him; loud it came, and near!
He started up, he strung his bow,
He plucked the arrow forth.
Again a shriek ... a woman’s shriek!
And lo! she rushes thro’ the trees,
Her veil all rent, her garments torn!
He follows close, the ravisher....
Even on the unechoing grass
She hears his tread, so close!
“Prophet save me! save me God!
“Help! help!” she cried to Thalaba,
Thalaba drew the bow.
The unerring arrow did its work of death.
He turned him to the woman, and beheld
His own Oneiza, his Arabian Maid.

The Seventh Book.

THALABA THE DESTROYER.

THE SEVENTH BOOK.

From fear, amazement, joy,
At length the Arabian Maid recovering speech,
Threw around Thalaba her arms and cried,
“My father! O my father!” Thalaba
In wonder lost, yet fearful to enquire,
Bent down his cheek on hers,
And their tears mingled as they fell.

ONEIZA.

At night they seized me, Thalaba! in my sleep,...
Thou wert not near,... and yet when in their grasp
I woke, my shriek of terror called on thee.
My father could not save me,... an old man!
And they were strong and many,... O my God,
The hearts they must have had to hear his prayers,
And yet to leave him childless!

THALABA.

We will seek him.
We will return to Araby.

ONEIZA.

Alas!
We should not find him, Thalaba! our tent
Is desolate, the wind hath heaped the sands
Within its door, the lizard’s [132] track is left
Fresh on the untrodden dust; prowling by night
The tyger, as he passes hears no breath
Of man, and turns to search its solitude.
Alas! he strays a wretched wanderer
Seeking his child! old man, he will not rest,...
He cannot rest, his sleep is misery,
His dreams are of my wretchedness, my wrongs....
O Thalaba! this is a wicked place!
Let us be gone!

THALABA.

But how to pass again
The iron doors that opening at a breath
Gave easy entrance? armies in their strength,
Would fail to move those hinges for return!

ONEIZA.

But we can climb the mountains that shut in
This dreadful garden.

THALABA.

Are Oneiza’s limbs
Equal to that long toil?

ONEIZA.

Oh I am strong
Dear Thalaba! for this ... fear gives me force,
And you are with me!
So she took his hand,
And gently drew him forward, and they went
Towards the mountain chain.
It was broad moonlight, and obscure or lost
The garden beauties lay,
But the great boundary rose, distinctly marked.
These were no little hills,
No sloping uplands lifting to the sun
Their vine-yards, with fresh verdure, and the shade
Of ancient woods, courting the loiterer
To win the easy ascent: stone mountains these
Desolate rock on rock,
The burthens of the earth,
Whose snowy summits met the morning beam
When night was in the vale, whose feet were fixed
In the world’s [133] foundations. Thalaba surveyed
The heights precipitous,
Impending crags, rocks unascendible,
And summits that had tired the eagle’s wing;
“There is no way!” he cried.
Paler Oneiza grew
And hung upon his arm a feebler weight.

But soon again to hope
Revives the Arabian maid,
As Thalaba imparts the sudden thought.
“I past a river,” cried the youth
“A full and copious stream.
“The flowing waters cannot be restrained
“And where they find or force their way,
“There we perchance may follow, thitherward
“The current rolled along.”
So saying yet again in hope
Quickening their eager steps
They turned them thitherward.

Silent and calm the river rolled along,
And at the verge arrived
Of that fair garden, o’er a rocky bed
Towards the mountain base,
Still full and silent, held its even way,
But the deep sound, the dash
Louder and louder in the distance rose,
As if it forced its stream
Struggling with crags along a narrow pass.
And lo! where raving o’er a hollow course
The ever-flowing tide
Foams in a thousand whirlpools! there adown
The perforated rock
Plunge the whole waters, so precipitous,
So fathomless a fall
That their earth-shaking roar came deadened up
Like subterranean thunders.
“Allah save us!”
Oneiza cried, “there is no path for man
“From this accursed place!”
And as she spake her joints
Were loosened, and her knees sunk under her.
“Cheer up, Oneiza!” Thalaba replied,
“Be of good heart. We cannot fly
“The dangers of the place,
“But we can conquer them!”

And the young Arab’s soul
Arose within him; “what is he,” he cried,
“Who has prepared this garden of delight,
“And wherefore are its snares?”

The Arabian Maid replied,
“The Women when I entered, welcomed me
“To Paradise, by Aloadin’s will
“Chosen like themselves, a Houri of the Earth.
“They told me, credulous of his blasphemies,
“That Aloadin placed them to reward
“His faithful servants with the joys of Heaven.
“O Thalaba, and all are ready here
“To wreak his wicked will, and work all crimes!
“How then shall we escape?”

“Woe to him!” cried the Appointed, a stern smile
Darkening with stronger shades his countenance,
“Woe to him! he hath laid his toils
“To take the Antelope,
“The Lion is come in!”
She shook her head, “a Sorcerer he
“And guarded by so many! Thalaba,...
“And thou but one!”
He raised his hand to Heaven,
“Is there not God, Oneiza?
“I have a Talisman, that, whoso bears,
“Him, nor the Earthly, nor the Infernal Powers
“Of Evil can cast down.
“Remember Destiny
“Hath marked me from mankind!
“Now rest in faith, and I will guard thy sleep!”

So on a violet bank
The Arabian Maid lay down,
Her soft cheek pillowed upon moss and flowers.
She lay in silent prayer,
Till prayer had tranquillized her fears,
And sleep fell on her. By her side
Silent sate Thalaba,
And gazed upon the Maid,
And as he gazed, drew in
New courage and intenser faith,
And waited calmly for the eventful day.

Loud sung the Lark, the awakened Maid
Beheld him twinkling in the morning light,
And wished for wings and liberty like his.
The flush of fear inflamed her cheek,
But Thalaba was calm of soul,
Collected for the work.
He pondered in his mind
How from Lobaba’s breast
His blunted arrow fell.
Aloadin too might wear
Spell perchance of equal power
To blunt the weapon’s edge!
Beside the river-brink,
Rose a young poplar, whose unsteady leaves
Varying their verdure to the gale,
With silver glitter caught
His meditating eye.
Then to Oneiza turned the youth
And gave his father’s bow,
And o’er her shoulders slung
The quiver arrow-stored.
“Me other weapon suits;” said he,
“Bear thou the Bow: dear Maid!
“The days return upon me, when these shafts,
“True to thy guidance, from the lofty palm
“Brought down the cluster, and thy gladdened eye
“Exulting turned to seek the voice of praise.
“Oh! yet again Oneiza, we shall share
“Our desert joys!”
So saying to the bank
He moved, and stooping low,
With double grasp, hand below hand, he clenched
And from its watry soil
Uptore the poplar trunk.
Then off he shook the clotted earth,
And broke away the head
And boughs and lesser roots,
And lifting it aloft
Wielded with able sway the massy club.
“Now for this child of Hell!” quoth Thalaba,
“Belike he shall exchange to day
“His dainty Paradise
“For other dwelling, and the fruit
“Of Zaccoum,[134] cursed tree.”

With that the youth and Arab maid
Towards the garden centre past.
It chanced that Aloadin had convoked
The garden-habitants,
And with the assembled throng
Oneiza mingled, and the appointed youth.
Unmarked they mingled, or if one
With busier finger to his neighbour notes
The quivered Maid, “haply,” he says,
“Some daughter of the [135] Homerites,
“Or one who yet remembers with delight
“Her native tents of Himiar!” “Nay!” rejoins
His comrade, “a love-pageant! for the man
“Mimics with that fierce eye and knotty club
“Some savage lion-tamer, she forsooth
“Must play the heroine of the years of old!”

Radiant with gems upon his throne of gold
Aloadin sate.
O’er the Sorcerer’s head
Hovered a Bird, and in the fragrant air
Waved his winnowing wings,
A living canopy.
Large as the plumeless Cassowar
Was that o’ershadowing Bird;
So huge his talons, in their grasp
The Eagle would have hung a helpless prey.
His beak was iron, and his plumes
Glittered like burnished gold,
And his eyes glowed, as tho’ an inward fire
Shone thro’ a diamond orb.

The blinded multitude
Adored the Sorcerer,
And bent the knee before him,
And shouted out his praise,
“Mighty art thou, the Bestower of joy,
“The Lord of Paradise!”
Aloadin waved his hand,
In idolizing reverence
Moveless they stood and mute.
“Children of Earth,” he cried,
“Whom I have guided here
“By easier passage than the gate of Death,
“The infidel Sultan to whose lands
“My mountains reach their roots,
“Blasphemes and threatens me.
“Strong are his armies, many are his guards,
“Yet may a dagger find him.
“Children of Earth, I tempt you not
“With the vain promise of a bliss unseen,
“With tales of a hereafter Heaven
“Whence never Traveller hath returned!
“Have ye not tasted of the cup of joy,
“That in these groves of happiness
“For ever over-mantling tempts
“The ever-thirsty lip?
“Who is there here that by a deed
“Of danger will deserve
“The eternal joys of actual Paradise?

“I!” Thalaba exclaimed,
And springing forward, on the Sorcerer’s head
He dashed the knotty club.

He fell not, tho’ the force
Shattered his skull; nor flowed the blood.
For by some hellish talisman
His life imprisoned still
Dwelt in the body. The astonished crowd
Stand motionless with fear, and wait
Immediate vengeance from the wrath of Heaven.
And lo! the Bird ... the monster Bird
Soars up ... then pounces down
To seize on Thalaba!
Now Oneiza, bend the bow,
Now draw the arrow home!
It fled, the arrow from Oneiza’s hand,
It pierced the monster Bird,
It broke the Talisman.
Then darkness covered all,...
Earth shook, Heaven thundered, and amid the yells
Of Spirits accursed, destroyed
The Paradise [136] of Sin.

At last the earth was still;
The yelling of the Demons ceased;
Opening the wreck and ruin to their sight
The darkness rolled away. Alone in life
Amid the desolation and the dead
Stood the Destroyer and the Arabian Maid.
They looked around, the rocks were rent,
The path was open, late by magic closed.
Awe-struck and silent down the stony glen
They wound their thoughtful way.

Amid the vale below
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.

Thalaba the Destroyer

About This Book

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

Thalaba the Destroyer.

by

Robert Southey.

CONTENTS.

The Sixth Book.

THALABA THE DESTROYER.

THE SIXTH BOOK.

The Seventh Book.

THALABA THE DESTROYER.

THE SEVENTH BOOK.

The Eighth Book.

Thalaba the Destroyer

About This Book

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

Thalaba the Destroyer.

by Robert Southey.

CONTENTS.

The Sixth Book.

THALABA THE DESTROYER.

THE SIXTH BOOK.

The Seventh Book.

THALABA THE DESTROYER.

THE SEVENTH BOOK.

The Eighth Book.

by

Robert Southey.