8.

Now hath Ladurlad reach'd the Court Of the great Palace of the King, its floor Was of the marble rock; and there before The imperial door,

A mighty Image on the steps was seen, Of stature huge, of countenance serene. A crown and sceptre at his feet were laid; One hand a scroll display'd, The other pointed there, that all might see; My name is Death, it said,

In mercy have the Gods appointed me. Two brazen gates beneath him night and day Stood open; and within them you behold Descending steps, which in the living stone Were hewn, a spacious way

Down to the Chambers of the Kings of old.

So well had the embalmers done their part With spice and precious unguents to imbue The perfect corpse, that each had still the hue Of living man, and every limb was still Supple and firm and full, as when of yore Its motion answer'd to the moving will. The robes of royalty which once they wore, Long since had moulder'd off and left them bare: Naked upon their thrones behold them there, Statues of actual flesh,. . a fearful sight! Their large and rayless eyes

Dimly reflecting to that gem-born light, Glazed, fix'd, and meaningless, . . . yet, open wide, Their ghastly balls belied

The mockery of life in all beside.

12.

But if amid these Chambers drear, Death were a sight of shuddering and of fear, Life was a thing of stranger horror here. For at the farther end, in yon alcove, Where Baly should have lain, had he obey'd Man's common lot, behold Ereenia laid. Strong fetters link him to the rock; his eye Now rolls and widens, as with effort vain He strives to break the chain, Now seems to brood upon his misery.

Before him couch'd there lay

One of the mighty monsters of the deep, Whom Lorrinite encountering on the way, There station'd, his perpetual guard to keep; In the sport of wanton power, she charm'd him there, As if to mock the Glendoveer's despair.

13.

Upward his form was human, save that here
The skin was cover'd o'er with scale on scale
Compact, a panoply of natural mail.
His mouth, from ear to ear,

Weapon'd with triple teeth, extended wide,
And tusks on either side;

A double snake below, he roll'd

His supple length behind in many a sinuous fold.

14.

With red and kindling eye, the Beast beholds A living man draw nigh,

And rising on his folds,

In hungry joy awaits the expected feast, His mouth half-open, and his teeth unsheath'd. Then on he sprung, and in his scaly arms Seized him, and fasten'd on his neck, to suck, With greedy lips the warm life-blood: and sure But for the mighty power of magic charms, As easily as, in the blithesome hour Of spring, a child doth crop the meadow-flower, Piecemeal those claws

Had rent their victim, and those armed jaws Snapt him in twain. Naked Ladurlad stood, Yet fearless and unharm'd in this dread strife, So well Kehama's Curse had charm'd his fated life.

15.

He too,... for anger, rising at the sight Of him he sought, in such strange thrall confined, With desperate courage fired Ladurlad's mind, . He too unto the fight himself addrest, And grappling breast to breast, With foot firm-planted stands, And seized the monster's throat with both his hands. Vainly, with throttling grasp, he prest

The impenetrable scales;

And lo! the Guard rose up, and round his foe, With gliding motion, wreath'd his lengthening coils, Then tighten'd all their folds with stress and strain. Nought would the raging Tiger's strength avail If once involved within those mighty toils; The arm'd Rhinoceros, so clasp'd, in vain Had trusted to his hide of rugged mail, His bones all broken, and the breath of life Crush'd from the lungs, in that unequal strife. Again, and yet again, he sought to break The impassive limbs; but when the Monster found His utmost power was vain,

A moment he relax'd in every round, Then knit his coils again with closer strain, And, bearing forward, forced him to the ground.

16.

Ereenia groan'd in anguish at the sight Of this dread fight: once more the Glendoveer Essay'd to break his bonds, and fear For that brave father who had sought him here,

Stung him to wilder strugglings. From the rock
He raised himself half-up, with might and main
Pluck'd at the adamantine chain,

And now with long and unrelaxing strain,
In obstinate effort of indignant strength,
Labour'd and strove in vain ;

Till his immortal sinews fail'd at length; And yielding, with an inward groan, to fate, Despairingly, he let himself again

Fall prostrate on his prison-bed of stone,
Body and chain alike with lifeless weight.

17.

Struggling they lay in mortal fray

All day, while day was in our upper sphere,
For light of day

And natural darkness never entered here;
All night, with unabated might,
They waged the unremitting fight.
A second day, a second night,
With furious will they wrestled still.
The third came on, the fourth is gone;
Another comes, another goes,
And yet no respite, no repose!
But day and night, and night and day,
Involv'd in mortal strife they lay;
Six days and nights have pass'd away,
And still they wage, with mutual rage,
The unremitting fray.

With mutual rage their war they wage,
But not with mutual will;
For when the seventh morning came,
The monster's worn and wearied frame
In this strange contest fails;
And weaker, weaker, every hour,
He yields beneath, strong Nature's power,
For now the Curse prevails.

18.

Sometimes the Beast sprung up to bear
His foe aloft; and trusting there
To shake him from his hold,

Relax'd the rings that wreath'd him round;
But on his throat Ladurlad hung
And weigh'd him to the ground;
And if they sink, or if they float,
Alike with stubborn clasp he clung,
Tenacious of his grasp;

For well he knew with what a power,
Exempt from Nature's laws,

The Curse had arm'd him for this hour;
And in the monster's gasping jaws,

And in his hollow eye,
Well could Ladurlad now descry
The certain signs of victory.

19. And now the Beast no more can keep His painful watch; his eyes, opprest, Are fainting for their natural sleep; His living flesh and blood must rest,

The Beast must sleep or die. Then he, full faint and languidly, Unwreathes his rings and strives to fly, And still retreating, slowly trails His stiff and heavy length of scales.

But that unweariable foe,
With will relentless follows still;
No breathing time, no pause of fight
He gives, but presses on his flight;
Along the vaulted chambers, and the ascent
Up to the emerald-tinted light of day,
He harasses his way,

Till lifeless, underneath his grasp,
The huge Sea-Monster lay.

20.

That obstinate work is done; Ladurlad cried,
One labour yet remains !
And thoughtfully he eyed
Ereenia's ponderous chains;

And with faint effort, half-despairing, tried
The rivets deep in-driven. Instinctively,

As if in search of aid, he look'd around: Oh, then how gladly, in the near alcove, Fallen on the ground its lifeless Lord beside, The crescent scymitar he spied, Whose cloudy blade, with potent spells imbued, Had lain so many an age unhurt in solitude.

21.

Joyfully springing there

He seized the weapon, and with eager stroke Hew'd at the chain; the force was dealt in vain, For not as if through yielding air Pass'd the descending scymitar,

Its deaden'd way the heavy water broke; Yet it bit deep. Again, with both his hands, He wields the blade, and dealt a surer blow. The baser metal yields

To that fine edge, and lo! the Glendoveer Rises and snaps the half-sever'd links, and stands Freed from his broken bands.

XVII. BALY. 1.

THIS is the appointed night,

The night of joy and consecrated mirth,
When from his judgement-seat in Padalon,
By Yamen's throne,

Baly goes forth, that he may walk the Earth
Unseen, and hear his name

Still hymn'd and honour'd by the grateful voice
Of humankind, and in his fame rejoice.
Therefore from door to door, and street to street,
With willing feet,

Shaking their firebrands, the glad children run; Baly great Baly! they acclaim, Where'er they run they bear the mighty name, Where'er they meet,

Baly! great Baly! still their choral tongues repeat. Therefore at every door the votive flame Through pendant lanterns sheds its painted light, And rockets hissing upward through the sky, Fall like a shower of stars

From Heaven's black canopy.

Therefore, on yonder mountain's templed height, The brazen caldron blazes through the night.

Huge as a Ship that travels the main sea Is that capacious brass; its wick as tall As is the mast of some great admiral. Ten thousand votaries bring Camphor and ghee to feed the sacred flame; And while, through regions round, the nations see Its fiery pillar curling high in heaven, Baly great Baly! they exclaim, For ever hallowed be his blessed name! Honour and praise to him for ever more be given !

2.

Why art not thou among the festive throng,
Baly, O righteous Judge! to hear thy fame?
Still, as of yore, with pageantry and song,

The glowing streets along,
They celebrate thy name;
Baly! great Baly! still

The grateful habitants of Earth acclaim,
Baly great Baly! still

The ringing walls and echoing towers proclaim.
From yonder mountain the portentous flame
Still blazes to the nations as before;
All things appear to human eyes the same,
As perfect as of yore;

To human eyes,... but how unlike to thine!
Thine which were wont to see
The Company divine,

That with their presence came to honour thee!
For all the blessed ones of mortal birth
Who have been clothed with immortality,
From the eight corners of the Earth,
From the Seven Worlds assembling, all
Wont to attend thy solemn festival.
Then did thine eyes behold

The wide air peopled with that glorious train ; Now may'st thou seek the blessed ones in vain, For Earth and Air are now beneath the Rajah's reign.

3.

Therefore the righteous Judge hath walk'd the Earth
In sorrow and in solitude to-night.
The sound of human mirth
To him is no delight;

He turns away from that ungrateful sight,
Hallowed not now by visitants divine,
And there he bends his melancholy way
Where, in yon full-orb'd Moon's refulgent light,
The Golden Towers of his old City shine
Above the silver sea. The ancient Chief
There bent his way in grief,

As if sad thoughts indulged would work their own

relief.

4.

There he beholds upon the sand

A lovely Maiden in the moonlight stand. The land-breeze lifts her locks of jet, The waves around her polish'd ankles play, Her bosom with the salt sea-spray is wet; Her arms are cross'd, unconsciously, to fold That bosom from the cold,

While statue-like she seems her watch to keep, Gazing intently on the restless deep.

5.

Seven miserable days had Kailyal there,
From earliest dawn till evening watch'd the deep;
Six nights within the chamber of the rock,
Had laid her down, and found in prayer
That comfort which she sought in vain from sleep.
But when the seventh night came,
Never should she behold her father more,
The wretched Maiden said in her despair;
Yet would not quit the shore,

Nor turn her eyes one moment from the sea :
Never before

Had Kailyal watch'd it so impatiently,

Never so eagerly had hoped before,

As now when she believed, and said all hope was o'er.

6.

Beholding her, how beautiful she stood, In that wild solitude,

Baly from his invisibility

Had issued then, to know her cause of woe; But that in the air beside her, he espied Two Powers of Evil for her hurt allied, Foul Arvalan and dreadful Lorrinite. Walking in darkness him they could not see And marking with what demon-like delight They kept their innocent prey in sight, He waits, expecting what the end may be.

7.

She starts; for lo! where floating many a rood,
A Monster, hugest of the Ocean brood,
Weltering and lifeless, drifts toward the shore.
Backward she starts in fear before the flood,
And, when the waves retreat,
They leave their hideous burthen at her feet.

8.

She ventures to approach with timid tread,
She starts, and half draws back in fear,
Then stops, and stretches out her head,
To see if that huge Beast indeed be dead.
Now growing bold, the Maid advances near,
Even to the margin of the ocean-flood.
Rightly she reads her Father's victory,
And lifts her joyous hands exultingly
To Heaven in gratitude.
Then spreading them toward the Sea,
While pious tears bedim her streaming eyes,
Come come! my Father, come to me,
Ereenia, come! she cries,

Lo! from the opening deep they rise,
And to Ladurlad's arms the happy Kailyal flies.

9.

She turn'd from him, to meet with beating heart,
The Glendoveer's embrace.

Now turn to me, for mine thou art!
Foul Arvalan exclaim'd; his loathsome face
Came forth, and from the air,

In fleshly form, he burst.

Always in horror and despair

Had Kailyal seen that form and face accurst,
But yet so sharp a pang had ne'er

Shot with a thrill like death through all her frame,
As now when on her hour of joy the Spectre came.

10.

Vain is resistance now,

The fiendish laugh of Lorrinite is heard;

And at her dreadful word, The Asuras once again appear, And seize Ladurlad and the Glendoveer.

11.

Hold your accursed hands!

A voice exclaim'd, whose dread commands Were fear'd through all the vaults of Padalon ; And there among them, in the midnight air, The presence of the mighty Baly shone. He, making manifest his mightiness, Put forth on every side an hundred arms, And seized the Sorceress; maugre all her charms, Her and her fiendish ministers he caught With force as uncontroulable as fate; And that unhappy Soul, to whom The Almighty Rajah's power availeth not Living to avert, nor dead to mitigate His righteous doom.

12.

Help, help, Kehama! Father, help! he cried, But Baly tarried not to abide

That mightier Power; with irresistible feet He stampt and cleft the Earth; it open'd wide, And gave him way to his own Judgement-seat. Down, like a plummet, to the World below He sunk, and bore his prey

To punishment deserved, and endless woe.

2.

Fool that he is! . . . in torments let him lie!
Kehama, wrathful at his son, replied.
But what am I,

That thou should'st brave me?...kindling in his pride
The dreadful Rajah cried.

Ho! Yamen! hear me. God of Padalou,
Prepare thy throne,

And let the Amreeta cup

Be ready for my lips, when I anon
Triumphantly shall take my seat thereon,
And plant upon thy neck my royal feet.

3.

In voice like thunder thus the Rajah cried, Impending o'er the abyss, with menacing hand Put forth, as in the action of command, And eyes that darted their red anger down. Then drawing back he let the earth subside, And, as his wrath relax'd, survey'd, Thoughtfully and silently, the mortal Maid. Her eye the while was on the farthest sky, Where up the ethereal height Ereenia rose and pass'd away from sight. Never had she so joyfully

Beheld the coming of the Glendoveer, Dear as he was and he deserved to be, As now she saw him rise and disappear. Come now what will, within her heart said she, For thou art safe, and what have I to fear?

XVIII.

KEHAMA'S DESCENT.

1.

THE Earth, by Baly's feet divided,
Closed o'er his way as to the Judgement-seat
He plunged and bore his prey.
Scarce had the shock subsided,

When, darting from the Swerga's heavenly heights,
Kehama, like a thunderbolt, alights.
In wrath he came, a bickering flame
Flash'd from his eyes which made the moonlight dim,
And passion forcing way from every limb,
Like furnace-smoke, with terrors wrapt him round.
Furious he smote the ground;
Earth trembled underneath the dreadful stroke,
Again in sunder riven;

He hurl'd in rage his whirling weapon down.
But lo! the fiery sheckra to his feet
Return'd, as if by equal force re-driven,
And from the abyss the voice of Baly came:
Not yet, O Rajah, hast thou won
The realms of Padalon!

Earth and the Swerga are thine own,
But, till Kehama shall subdue the throne
Of Hell, in torments Yamen holds his son.

1 This weapon, which is often to be seen in one of the wheel-spoke hands of a Hindoo god, resembles a quoit: the

4.

Meantime the Almighty Rajah, late
In power and majesty and wrath array'd,
Had laid his terrors by

And gazed upon the Maid.
Pride could not quit his eye,

Nor that remorseless nature from his front
Depart; yet whoso had beheld him then
Had felt some admiration mix'd with dread,
And might have said,

That sure he seem'd to be the King of Men! Less than the greatest that he could not be, Who carried in his port such might and majesty.

5.

In fear no longer for the Glendoveer, Now towards the Rajah Kailyal turn'd her eyes As if to ask what doom awaited her. But then surprise,

Even as with fascination held them there, So strange a thing it seem'd to see the change Of purport in that all-commanding brow, Which thoughtfully was bent upon her now. Wondering she gazed, the while her Father's eye Was fix'd upon Kehama haughtily; It spake defiance to him, high disdain, Stern patience unsubduable by pain, And pride triumphant over agony.

external edge is sharp; it is held in the middle, and, being whirled along, cuts wherever it strikes.

6.

Ladurlad, said the Rajah, thou and I Alike have done the work of Destiny, Unknowing each to what the impulse tended; But now that over Earth and Heaven my reign Is stablish'd, and the ways of Fate are plain

Before me, here our enmity is ended.

I take away thy Curse... As thus he said, The fire which in Ladurlad's heart and brain Was burning, fled, and left him free from pain. So rapidly his torments were departed, That at the sudden ease he started, As with a shock, and to his head His hands up-fled,

As if he felt through every failing limb The power and sense of life forsaking him.

7.

Then turning to the Maid, the Rajah cried,
O Virgin, above all of mortal birth
Favour'd alike in beauty and in worth,
And in the glories of thy destiny,
Now let thy happy heart exult with pride,
For Fate hath chosen thee

To be Kehama's bride,

To be the Queen of Heaven and Earth, And of whatever Worlds beside Infinity may hide... For I can see The writing which, at thy nativity, All-knowing Nature wrought upon thy brain,1 In branching veins, which to the gifted eye Map out the mazes of futurity.

There is it written, Maid, that thou and I,
Alone of human kind a deathless pair,
Are doom'd to share

The Amreeta-drink divine
Of immortality. Come, Maiden mine!
High-fated One, ascend the subject sky,
And by Kehama's side

Sit on the Swerga thorne, his equal bride.

8.

Oh never,.. never, Father! Kailyal cried;
It is not as he saith,. . it cannot be !
I!.. I, his bride!

Nature is never false; he wrongeth her!
My heart belies such lines of destiny.
There is no other true interpreter !

1 Brahma is considered as the immediate creator of all things, and particularly as the disposer of each person's fate, which he inscribes within the skull of every created being, and which the gods themselves cannot avert.- Kindersley, p. 21.; Niecamp, vol. i. p. 10. § 7.

It is by the sutures of the skull that these lines of destiny are formed. See also a note to Thalaba (Book v. p. 259.) upon a like superstition of the Mahommedans.

Quand on leur reproche quelque vice, ou qu'on les reprend d'une mauvaise action, ils répondent froidement, que cela est écrit sur leur tête, et qu'ils n'ont pu faire autrement. Si vous paroissez étonné de ce langage nouveau, et que vous demandiez à voir où cela est écrit, ils vous montrent les diverses jointures du crâne de leur tête, prétendant que les sutures méme sont les caractères de cette écriture mystérieuse. Si vous les pressez de déchiffrer ces caractères, et de vous faire

9.

At that reply, Kehama's darkening brow Bewray'd the anger which he yet suppress'd; Counsel thy daughter! tell her thou art now Free from thy Curse, he said, and bid her bow In thankfulness to Fate's benign behest. Bid her her stubborn will restrain, For Destiny at last must be obey'd, And tell her, while obedience is delay'd, Thy Curse will burn again.

10.

She needeth not my counsel, he replied, And idly, Rajah, dost thou reason thus Of destiny for though all other things Were subject to the starry influencings, And bow'd submissive to thy tyranny, The virtuous heart and resolute mind are free. Thus in their wisdom did the Gods decree When they created man. Let come what will, This is our rock of strength; in every ill, Sorrow, oppression, pain and agony, The spirit of the good is unsubdued, And suffer, as they may, they triumph still.

11.

Obstinate fools! exclaim'd the Mighty One, Fate and my pleasure must be done, And ye resist in vain!

Take your fit guerdon till we meet again! So saying, his vindictive hand he flung Towards them, fill'd with curses; then on high Aloft he sprung, and vanish'd through the Sky.

XIX

MOUNT CALASAY.

1.

THE Rajah, scattering curses as he rose, Soar'd to the Swerga, and resumed his throne. Not for his own redoubled agony, Which now through heart and brain With renovated pain,

Rush'd to its seat, Ladurlad breathes that groan, That groan is for his child; he groan'd to see That she was stricken now with leprosy,

connoître ce qu'ils signifient, ils avouent qu'ils ne le sçavent pas. Mais puisque vous ne sçavez pas lire cette écriture, disois-je quelquefois à ces gens entêtés, qui est-ce donc qui vous la lit? qui est-ce qui vous en explique le sens, et qui vous fait connoître ce qu'elle contient? D'ailleurs ces prétendus caractères étant les mêmes sur la tête de tous les hommes, d'où vient qu'ils agissent si différemment, et qu'ils sont si contraires les uns aux autres dans leurs vues, dans leurs desseins, et dans leurs projets ?

"Les Brames m'écoutoient de sang froid, et sans s'inquiéter ni des contradictions où ils tomboient, ni des consé. quences ridicules qu'ils étoient obligés d'avouer. Enfin, lorsqu'ils se sentoient vivement pressés, toute leur ressource étoit de se retirer sans rien dire." - P. Mauduit, Lettres Edifiantes, t. x. p. 248.