Their mingled shadows intercept the sight II. All save the rushing swell of Teio's tide, Or, distant heard, a courser's neigh or tramp Which glimmered back, against the moon's fair lamp, And standards proudly pitched, and warders armed between. III. But of their Monarch's person keeping ward, Since last the deep-mouthed bell of vespers tolled, The chosen soldiers of the royal guard Their post beneath the proud Cathedral hold: A band unlike their Gothic sires of old, Who, for the cap of steel and iron mace, Bear slender darts, and casques bedecked with gold, While silver-studded belts their shoulders grace, Where ivory quivers ring in the broad falchion's place. IV. In the light language of an idle court, They murmured at their master's long delay, And held his lengthened orisons in sport: "What! will Don Roderick here till morning stay, To wear in shrift and prayer the night away? For fair Florinda's plundered charms to pay?"- And wished the lingering dawn would glimmer forth at last. V. But, far within, Toledo's Prelate lent The silver lamp a fitful lustre sent, So long that sad confession witnessing: For Roderick told of many a hidden thing, Such as are lothly uttered to the air, When Fear, Remorse, and Shame, the bosom wring, And Conscience seeks in speech a respite from Despair. VI. Full on the Prelate's face, and silver hair, The stream of failing light was feebly rolled; But Roderick's visage, though his head was bare, Was shadowed by his hand and mantle's fold. While of his hidden soul the sins he told, Or boast that he had seen, when conscience shook, Fear tame a monarch's brow, remorse a warrior's look. VII. The old man's faded cheek waxed yet more pale, "Yet, holy father, deem not it was I."- VIII. "And, if Florinda's shrieks alarmed the air, Yet, reverend priest, thy sentence rash refrain !- Know by their bearing to disguise their mood: "But Conscience here, as if in high disdain, Sent to the Monarch's cheek the burning bloodHe stayed his speech abrupt—and up the Prelate stood. IX. "O hardened offspring of an iron race! What of thy crimes, Don Roderick, shall I say? What alms, or prayers, or penance can efface For the foul ravisher how shall I pray, Who, scarce repentant, makes his crime his boast? How hope Almighty vengeance shall delay, Unless, in mercy to yon Christian host, He spare the shepherd, lest the guiltless sheep be lost." X. Then kindled the dark Tyrant in his mood, And to iis brow returned his dauntless gloom; "And welcome then," he cried, "be blood for blood, For treason treachery, for dishonour doom! Yet will I know whence come they, or by whom. Show, for thou canst-give forth the fated key, And guide me, Priest, to that mysterious room, Where, if aught true in old tradition be, His nation's future fates a Spanish king shall see. XI. "Ill-fated Prince! recall the desperate word, Nor shall it ever ope, old records say, And treason digs, beneath, her fatal mine, XII. "Prelate! a Monarch's fate brooks no delay! And twice he stopped, and twice new effort made, XIII. Long, large, and lofty, was that vaulted hall; Of polished marble, black as funeral pall, Carved o'er with signs and characters unknown. A paly light, as of the dawning, shone Through the sad bounds, but whence they could not spy: For window to the upper air was none; Yet, by that light, Don Roderick could descry Wonders that ne'er till then were seen by mortal eye. XIV. Grim sentinels, against the upper wall, Of molten bronze, two Statues held their place; Massive their naked limbs, their stature tall, Their frowning foreheads golden circlets grace. Moulded they seem for kings of giant race, That lived and sinned before the avenging flood; This grasped a scythe, that rested on a mace; This spread his wings for flight, that pondering stood, Each stubborn seemed and stern, immutable of mood. XV. Fixed was the right-hand Giant's brazen look As if its ebb he measured by a book, Whose iron volume loaded his huge hand; 66 XVI. Even, while they read, the sand-glass wastes away; That right-hand Giant 'gan his club upsway Full on the upper wall the mace's sweep At once descended with the force of thunder, And hurtling down at once, in crumbled heap, The marble boundary was rent asunder, And gave to Roderick's view new sights of fear and wonder. XVII. For they might spy, beyond that mighty breach, As by some skilful artist's hand portrayed: XVIII. And here, as erst upon the antique stage Passed forth the bands of masquers trimly led, While fitting strains the hearer's fancy fed; And ever and anon strange sounds were heard between. XIX. First shrilled an unrepeated female shriek !— Needs not to Roderick their dread import tell "The Moor!" he cried, "the Moor !-rings out the Tocsinbell XX. They come they come! I see the groaning lands White with the turbans of each Arab horde, Swart Zaarah joins her misbelieving bands, Alla and Mahomet their battle-word, The choice they yield the Koran or the sword.— In yonder shout the voice of conflict roared; The shadowy hosts are closing on the plainNow, God and St. Iago strike, for the good cause of Spain ! XXI. "By heaven, the Moors prevail ! the Christians yield !— Their coward leader gives for flight the sign! The sceptred craven mounts to quit the field- But never was she turned from battle line; Lo! where the recreant spurs o'er stock and stone !Curses pursue the slave and wrath divine! Rivers engulf him !"-" Hush," in shuddering tone, The Prelate said; "rash Prince, yon visioned form's thine own," XXII. Just then, a torrent crossed the flier's course; The dangerous ford the Kingly Likeness tried; And for their bondsmen base the freeborn natives brand. XXIII. Then rose the grated Harem, to enclose The Santon's frantic dance, the Fakir's gibbering moan. XXIV. How fares Don Roderick ?-E'en as one who spics And sees the pale assistants stand aloof; He curses earth and Heaven-himself in chiefDesperate of earthly aid, despairing Heaven's relief! XXV. That scythe-armed Giant turned his fatal glass, And in their stead rebeck or timbrel rings; In tourney light the Moor his jerrid flings, The Imaum's chant was heard from mosque or minaret. XXVI. So passed that pageant. Ere another came, The visionary scene was wrapped in smoke, Whose sulph'rous wreaths were crossed by sheets of flame; With every flash a bolt explosive broke, |