The Murderer, answering, said, My double danger from Hodeirah's race, The stronger motive that inspir'd my arm! My ill-directed blow, And not the stars that would not give, Which of the whole was he! Did ye not bid me strike them all? Said ye not root and branch should be destroy'd? I heard his Children's shriek of death, A cloud that mock'd my searching eyes. A Voice came forth and cried, 'Son of Perdition, cease! thou canst not change What in the Book of Destiny is written.'» Stronger it grew, and spread Extending now where all the ten had stood, At that portentous sight, Its fearful splendour cast, The broad base rolling up in wavy streams, Fright as the summer lightning when it spreads Its glory o'er the midnight heaven. The Teraph's eyes were dimm'd, Which like two twinkling stars Shone in the darkness late. The Sorcerers on each other gaz'd, And every face, all pale with fear, And ghastly, in that light was seen Like a dead man's by the sepulchral lamp. XII. Even Khawla, fiercest of the enchanter brood, « But Eblis would not stoop to man, From his Creator's hand Was undefild and pure. Thou art mighty, O Son of Abdallah! But who is he of woman born Speak !» cried the Sorceress, and she snatch'd And with the living reptile lash'd his neck. 5 Her deadly teeth, and shed Poison in every wound. In vain! for Allah heard Hodeirah's prayer, And Khawla on a corpse Had wreak'd her baffled rage. The fated fire mov'd on, And round the Body wrapt its funeral flames. Consum'd; the Sword alone XXII. Where is the Boy for whose hand it is destin'd? Where the Destroyer who one day shall wield The Sword that is circled with fire? Race accursed, try your charms! Masters of the mighty Spell, Mutter o'er your words of power! Ye can shatter the dwellings of man, Ye can open the womb of the rock, Ye can shake the foundations of earth, But not the word of God: But not one letter can ye change Of what his Will hath written! XXIII. Who shall seek through Araby Hodeirah's dreaded son? They mingle the arrows of Chance, 6 The lot of Abdaldar is drawn. Thirteen moons must wexand wane Ere the Sorcerer quit his quest. He must visit every tribe That roam the desert wilderness, Or dwell beside perennial streams; Nor leave a solitary tent unsearch'd, Till he hath found the Boy,... The hated Boy, whose blood alone Can quench that dreaded fire. XXIV. A crystal ring Abdaldar bore; The powerful gem 7 condens'd Primeval dews, that upon Caucasus Felt the first winter's frost. Ripening there it lay beneath Rock above rock, and mountain ice up-pil'd On mountain, till the incumbent mass assum'd, So huge its bulk, the Ocean's azure hue. XXV. With this he sought the inner den Like waters gushing from some channell'd rock No eye beheld the fount Of that up flowing flame, Which blazed self-nurtur'd, and for ever, there. That thenceforth through the air must roll, XXVI. Unturban'd and usandall'd there, And held the Ring beside, and spake The language that the Elements obey. The obedient flame detach'd a portion forth, Which, in the crystal entering, was condens'd, Gem of the gem, 8 its living Eye of fire. When the hand that wears the spell Shall touch the destin'd Boy, Then shall that Eye be quench'd, From tribe to tribe, from town to town, From tent to tent, Abdaldar past. Him every morn the all-beholding Eye Saw from his couch, unhallowed by a prayer, Rise to the scent of blood; And every night lie down, Many a time his wary hand And still the imprison'd fire ΧΧΙΧ. At length to the cords of a tent, That were stretch'd by an Island of Palms, Herself as shapely, there a Damsel stood; She held her ready robe, With one hand clinging to its trunk, Cast with the other down the cluster'd dates. XXX. The Wizard approach'd the Tree, He lean'd on his staff, like a way-faring man, And the sweat of his travel was seen on his brow. He ask'd for food, and lo! The Damsel proffers him her lap of dates; And the Stripling descends, and runs to the tent, And brings him forth water, the draught of delight. XXXI. Anon the Master of the tent, The Father of the family, Came forth, a man in years, of aspect mild. Before the tent they spread the skin, 9 Under a Tamarind's shade, They brought the Traveller rice, When never yet the sullying Sun Nor the warm Zephyr touch'd and tainted it. The Damsel from the Tamarind tree And whoso drank of the cooling draught," This to the guest the Damsel brought, XXXII. Whither is gone the Boy? He had pierced the Melon's pulp, And clos'd with wax the wound, And he had duly gone at morn And watch'd its ripening rind, And now all joyfully he brings The treasure now matur'd. His dark eyes sparkle with a boy's delight, As out he pours its liquid 12 lusciousness, And proffers to the guest. XXXIII. Abdaldar ate, and he was satisfied: As one whose busy feet had travell'd long. With a calm eye and quiet smile, Sate pleas'd to hearken him. The Damsel who remov'd the meal With seemly kindness, to the eager Boy Ah, cursed one! if this be he, If thou hast found the object of thy search, Thy hate, thy bloody aim,... Into what deep damnation wilt thou plunge Look! how his eye delighted watches thine!... And nearer now he comes, To lose no word of that delightful talk. Then, as in familiar mood, Upon the stripling's arm XXXIV. While the sudden shoot of joy Made pale Abdaldar's cheek, As Thalaba to his ablutions went, Lo! the grave open, and the corpse expos'd! It was not that the winds of night Had swept away the sands which covered it, For heavy with the undried dew The desert dust was dark and close around; And the night air had been so calm and still, It had not from the grove Shaken a ripe date down. IV. Amaz'd to hear the tale, Forth from the tent came Moath and his child. << I have heard that there are places by the abode Of holy men, so holily possess'd, That should a corpse be buried there, the ground So foul with magic and all blasphemy, That Earth, like Heaven, rejects him? It is best Find fitting sepulchre.»> V. Then from the pollution of death With water they made themselves pure; And Thalaba drew up The fastening of the cords; And Moath furl'd the tent; And from the grove of palms Oneiza led The Camels, ready to receive their load. VI. The dews had ceased to steam Towards the climbing Sun, When from the Isle of Palms they went their way. Like to the top-sails of some far-off fleet The Ocean bounds had blended with the sky. And when the eve came on, The sight returning reach'd the grove no more. VII. At midnight Thalaba started up, For he felt that the ring on his finger was mov'd; And he call'd on the Prophet's name. « What ails thee, Thalaba?» he cried, « A Spirit in the Tent?»> Moath look'd round and said, << The moon-beam shines in the Tent, I see thee stand in the light, And thy shadow is black on the ground.>> VIII. Thalaba answered not. "Spirit!» he cried, << what brings thee here? In the name of the Prophet speak, In the name of Allah, obey!» IX. He ceas'd, and there was silence in the Tent. « Dost thou not hear?» quoth Thalaba. The listening man replied, «I hear the wind, that flaps X. « The Ring! the Ring!» the youth exclaim'd. « For that the Spirit of Evil comes; By that I see, by that I hear. In the name of God, I ask thee, Who was he that slew my Father?» DEMON. Master of the powerful Ring! Okba, the wise Magician, did the deed. THALABA. Where does the Murderer dwell? DEMON. In the Domdaniel caverns, Under the Roots of the Ocean. THALABA. Why were my Father and my brethren slain? DEMON. We knew from the race of Hodeirah The destin'd Destroyer would come. THALABA. Bring me my father's sword. DEMON. A fire surrounds the fatal sword, No Spirit or Magician's hand Can pierce that guardian flame. THALABA. Bring me his bow and his arrows. XI. Distinctly Moath heard his voice, and She, Who, through the Veil of Separation, watch'd All sounds in listening terror, whose suspense Forbade the aid of prayer. They heard the voice of Thalaba; Too fine for mortal sense. XII. On a sudden the rattle of arrows was heard, And the quiver was laid at the feet of the youth, Anon he rais'd his voice and cried, |