  THE FIFTH BOOK.When Thalaba from adoration rose, The air was cool, the sky With welcome clouds o’ercast, That soon came down in rain. He lifted up his fevered face to heaven, And bared his head and stretched his hands To that delightful shower, And felt the coolness flow thro’ every limb Freshening his powers of life. A loud quick panting! Thalaba looks up, He starts, and his instinctive hand Grasps the knife hilt: for close beside A Tyger passes him. An indolent and languid eye The passing Tyger turned; His head was hanging down, His dry tongue lolling low, And the short panting of his fevered breath Came thro’ his hot parched nostrils painfully. The young Arabian knew The purport of his hurried pace, And following him in hope Saw joyful from afar The Tyger stoop and drink. The desert Pelican had built her nest In that deep solitude. And now returned from distant flight Fraught with the river stream, Her load of water had disburthened there. Her young in the refreshing bath Sported all wantonness; Dipt down their callow heads, Filled the swoln membrane from their plumeless throat Pendant, and bills yet soft, And buoyant with arched breast, Plied in unpractised stroke The oars of their broad feet. They, as the spotted prowler of the wild Laps the cool wave, around their mother croud, And nestle underneath her outspread wings. The spotted prowler of the wild Lapt the cool wave, Guiltless of blood, withdrew. The mother bird had moved not But cowering o’er her nestlings, Sate confident and fearless, And watched the wonted guest. But when the human visitant approached, The alarmed Pelican Retiring from that hostile shape, Gathers her young, and menaces with wings, And forward thrusts her threatening neck, Its feathers ruffling in her wrath, Bold with maternal fear. Thalaba drank and in the water-skin Hoarded the precious element. Not all he took, but in the large nest left Store that sufficed for life. And journeying onward blest the Carrier Bird, And blest in thankfulness, Their common Father, provident for all. With strength renewed and confident in faith The son of Hodeirah proceeds; Till after the long toil of many a day, At length Bagdad appeared, The City of his search. He hastening to the gate Roams o’er the city with insatiate eyes, Its thousand dwellings o’er whose level roofs Fair cupolas appeared, and high-domed mosques And pointed minarets, and cypress groves Every where scattered Thou too art fallen, Bagdad! City of Thou too hast had thy day! And loathsome Ignorance and brute Servitude Pollute thy dwellings now, Erst for the Mighty and the Wise renowned. O yet illustrious for remembered fame, Thy founder the Of Haroun, for whose name by blood defiled, Jahia’s, and the blameless Barmecides’, Genius hath wrought salvation; and the years When Science with the good Al-Maimon dwelt; So one day may the Crescent from thy Mosques Be plucked by Wisdom, when the enlightened arm Of Europe conquers to redeem the East. Then Pomp and Pleasure dwelt within her walls The Merchants of the East and of the West Met in her arched All day the active poor Showered a cool comfort o’er her thronging streets; Labour was busy in her looms; Thro’ all her open gates Long troops of laden Camels lined her roads, And Tigris on his tameless Armenian harvests to her multitudes. But not in sumptuous Caravansary The adventurer idles there, Nor satiates wonder with her pomp and wealth; A long day’s distance from the walls Stands ruined Babylon! The time of action is at hand, The hope that for so many a year Hath been his daily thought, his nightly dream, Stings to more restlessness. He loathes all lingering that delays the hour When, full of glory, from his quest returned, He on the pillar of the Tent beloved Shall hang Hodeirah’s sword. The many-coloured Yet wore one dusky hue, The Cranes upon the Mosque Kept their night-clatter When thro’ the gate the early Traveller past. And when at evening o’er the swampy plain The Bittern’s Distinct in darkness seen Above the low horizon’s lingering light Rose the near ruins of old Babylon. Once from her lofty walls Looked down on swarming myriads; once she flung Her arches o’er Euphrates conquered tide, And thro’ her brazen portals when she poured Her armies forth, the distant nations looked As men who watched the thunder-cloud in fear Lest it should burst above them. She was fallen, The Queen of Cities, Babylon was fallen! Low lay her bulwarks; the black scorpion basked In the palace courts, within her sanctuary The She Wolf hid her whelps. Is yonder huge and shapeless heap, what once Had been the aerial Rising like Medias mountains crowned with wood, Work of imperial dotage? where the fame Of Which at the sound of dulcimer and lute, Cornet and sackbut, harp and psaltery, The Assyrian slaves adored? A labyrinth of ruins, Babylon Spreads o’er the blasted plain: The wandering Arab never sets his tent Within her walls; the Shepherd Her evil Towers, and devious drives his flock. Alone unchanged, a free and bridgeless tide Euphrates rolls along, Eternal Nature’s work. Thro’ the broken portal, Over weedy fragments, Thalaba went his way. Cautious he trod, and felt The dangerous ground before him with his bow. The Chacal started at his steps, The Stork, alarmed at sound of man, From her broad nest upon the old pillar top, Affrighted fled on flapping wings. The Adder in her haunts disturbed Lanced at the intruding staff her arrowy tongue. Twilight and moonshine dimly mingling gave An aweful light obscure, Evening not wholly closed, The Moon still pale and faint. An aweful light obscure, Broken by many a mass of blackest shade; Long column stretching dark thro’ weeds and moss, Broad length of lofty wall Whose windows lay in light, And of their former shape, low-arched or square, Rude outline on the earth Figured, with long grass fringed. Reclined against a column’s broken shaft, Unknowing whitherward to bend his way He stood and gazed around. The Ruins closed him in, It seemed as if no foot of man For ages had intruded there. Soon at approaching step Starting, he turned and saw A warrior in the moon beam drawing near. Forward the Stranger came And with a curious eye Perused the Arab youth. “And who art thou,” he cried, “That at an hour like this “Wanderest in Babylon? “A way-bewildered traveller, seekest thou “The ruinous shelter here? “Or comest thou to hide “The plunder of the night? “Or hast thou spells to make “These ruins, yawning from their rooted base “Disclose their secret The youth replied, “nor wandering traveller “Nor robber of the night “Nor skilled in spells am I. “I seek the Angels here, “Haruth and Maruth. Stranger in thy turn, “Why wanderest thou in Babylon, “And who art thou, the Questioner?” The man was fearless, and the tempered pride That toned the voice of Thalaba Displeased not him, himself of haughty heart. Heedless he answered, “knowest thou “Their cave of punishment?” THALABA. Vainly I seek it. STRANGER. Art thou firm of foot To tread the ways of danger? THALABA. Point the path! STRANGER. Young Arab! if thou hast a heart can beat Evenly in danger, if thy bowels yearn not With human fears, at scenes where undisgraced The soldier tried in battle might look back And tremble, follow me!... for I am bound Into that cave of horrors. Thalaba Gazed on his comrade, he was young, of port Stately and strong; belike his face had pleased A woman’s eye, yet the youth read in it Unrestrained passions, the obdurate soul Bold in all evil daring; and it taught, By Nature’s irresistible instinct, doubt Well timed and wary. Of himself assured, Fearless of man, and confident in faith, “Lead on!” cried Thalaba. Mohareb led the way; And thro’ the ruined streets, And thro’ the farther gate They past in silence on. What sound is borne on the wind? Is it the storm that shakes The thousand oaks of the forest? But Thalaba’s long locks Flow down his shoulders moveless, and the wind In his loose mantle raises not one fold. Is it the river’s roar Dashed down some rocky descent? Along the level plain Euphrates glides unheard. What sound disturbs the night, Loud as the summer forest in the storm, As the river that roars among rocks? And what the heavy cloud That hangs upon the vale, Thick as the mist o’er a well-watered plain Settling at evening, when the cooler air Lets its day-vapours fall; Black as the sulphur-cloud That thro’ Vesuvius, or from Hecla’s mouth Rolls up, ascending from the infernal fires. From Ait’s bitumen That heavy cloud ascends; That everlasting roar From where its gushing springs Boil their black billows up. Silent the Arab youth, Along the verge of that wide lake, Followed Mohareb’s way Towards a ridge of rocks that banked its side. There from a cave with torrent force, And everlasting roar, The black bitumen rolled. The moonlight lay upon the rocks. Their crags were visible, The shade of jutting cliffs, And where broad lichens whitened some smooth spot, And where the ivy hung Its flowing tresses down. A little way within the cave The moonlight fell, glossing the sable tide That gushed tumultuous out. A little way it entered, then the rock Arching its entrance, and the winding way, Darkened the unseen depths. No eye of mortal man If unenabled by enchanted spell, Had pierced those fearful depths. For mingling with the roar Of the portentous torrent, oft were heard Shrieks, and wild yells that scared The brooding Eagle from her midnight nest. The affrighted countrymen Call it the Mouth of Hell; And ever when their way leads near They hurry with averted eyes, And dropping their beads Pronounce the holy name. There pausing at the cavern mouth Mohareb turned to Thalaba, “Now darest thou enter in?” “Behold!” the youth replied, And leading in his turn the dangerous way Set foot within the cave. “Stay Madman!” cried his comrade. “Wouldst thou rush “Headlong to certain death? “Where are thine arms to meet “The Guardian of the Passage?” a loud shriek That shook along the windings of the cave Scattered the youth’s reply. Mohareb when the long reechoing ceased Exclaimed, “Fate favoured thee, “Young Arab! when she wrote “The meeting of to-night; “Else surely had thy name “This hour been blotted from the Book of Life!” So saying from beneath His cloak a bag he drew; “Young Arab! thou art brave,” he cried, “But thus to rush on danger unprepared, “As lions spring upon the hunter’s spear, “Is blind, brute courage. Zohak “Giantly tyrant of primeval days. “Force cannot win the passage.” Thus he said And from his wallet drew a human hand Shrivelled, and dry, and black, And fitting as he spake A taper in its hold, Pursued: “a murderer on the stake had died, “I drove the Vulture from his limbs, and lopt “The hand that did the murder, and drew up “The tendon-strings to close its grasp, “And in the sun and wind “Parched it, nine weeks exposed. “The Taper,... but not here the place to impart, “Nor hast thou done the rites, “That fit thee to partake the mystery. “Look! it burns clear, but with the air around “Its dead ingredients mingle deathiness. “This when the Keeper of the Cave shall feel, “Maugre the doom of Heaven, “The salutary “Shall lull his penal agony to sleep “And leave the passage free.” Thalaba answered not. Nor was there time for answer now, For lo! Mohareb leads, And o’er the vaulted cave Trembles the accursed taper’s feeble light. There where the narrowing chasm Rose loftier in the hill, Stood Zohak, wretched man, condemned to keep His Cave of punishment. His was the frequent scream Which far away the prowling Chacal heard And howled in terror back: For from his shoulders grew Two snakes of monster size, That ever at his head Aimed eager their keen teeth To satiate raving hunger with his brain. He in the eternal conflict oft would seize Their swelling necks, and in his giant grasp Bruise them, and rend their flesh with bloody nails, And howl for agony, Feeling the pangs he gave, for of himself Inseparable parts, his torturers grew. To him approaching now Mohareb held the withered arm The Taper of enchanted power. The unhallowed spell in hand unholy held Now ministered to mercy, heavily The wretche’s eyelids closed, And welcome and unfelt Like the release of death A sudden sleep fell on his vital powers. Yet tho’ along the cave Lay Zohak’s giant limbs, The twin-born serpents kept the narrow pass, Kindled their fiery eyes, Darted their tongues of terror, and rolled out Their undulating length, Like the long streamers of some gallant ship Buoyed on the wavy air, Still struggling to flow on and still withheld. The scent of living flesh Inflamed their appetite. Prepared for all the perils of the cave Mohareb came. He from his wallet drew Two human heads yet warm. O hard of heart! whom not the visible power Of retributive Justice, and the doom Of Zohak in his sight, Deterred from equal crime! Two human heads, yet warm, he laid Before the scaly guardians of the pass. They to their wonted banquet of old years Turned eager, and the narrow pass was free. And now before their path The opening cave dilates; They reach a spacious vault Where the black river fountains burst their way. Now as a whirlwind’s force Had centered on the spring, The gushing flood rolled up; And now the deadened roar Echoed beneath them, as its sudden pause Left wide a dark abyss, Adown whose fathomless gulphs the eye was lost. Blue flames that hovered o’er the springs Flung thro’ the Cavern their uncertain light Now waving on the waves they lay, And now their fiery curls Flowed in long tresses up, And now contracting glowed with whiter heat. Then up they poured again Darting pale flashes thro’ the tremulous air; The flames, the red and yellow sulphur-smoke, And the black darkness of the vault Commingling indivisibly. “Here,” quoth Mohareb, “do the Angels dwell, “The Teachers of Enchantment.” Thalaba Then raised his voice and cried, “Haruth and Maruth, hear me! not with rites “Accursed, to disturb your penitence “And learn forbidden lore, “Repentant Angels, seek I your abode. “Me Allah and the Prophet mission here, “Their chosen servant I. “Tell me the Talisman.”... “And dost thou think” “Mohareb cried, as with a scornful smile He glanced upon his comrade, “dost thou think “To trick them of their secret? for the dupes “Of human-kind keep this lip-righteousness! “’Twill serve thee in the Mosque “And in the Market-place, “But Spirits view the heart. “Only by strong and torturing spells enforced, “Those stubborn Angels teach the charm “By which we must descend.” “Descend!” said Thalaba. But then the wrinkling smile Forsook Mohareb’s cheek, And darker feelings settled on his brow. “Now by my soul,” quoth he, “and I believe “Idiot! that I have led “Some camel-kneed prayer-monger thro’ the cave! “What brings thee hither? thou shouldest have a hut “By some Saint’s “There to less-knowing fools “Retail thy Koran “And in thy turn, die civet-like at last “In the dung-perfume of thy sanctity!... “Ye whom I seek! that, led by me, “Feet uninitiate tread “Your threshold, this atones! “Fit sacrifice he falls!” And forth he flashed his scymetar, And raised the murderous blow. Then ceased his power; his lifted arm, Suspended by the spell, Hung impotent to strike. “Poor Hypocrite!” cried he, “And this then is thy faith “In Allah and the Prophet! they had failed “To save thee, but for Magic’s stolen aid; “Yea, they had left thee yonder Serpent’s meal, “But that, in prudent cowardice, “The chosen Servant of the Lord came in, “Safe follower of my path!” “Blasphemer! dost thou boast of guiding me?” Kindling with pride quoth Thalaba, “Blindly the wicked work “The righteous will of Heaven. “Sayest thou that diffident of God, “In magic spell I trust? “Liar! let witness this!” And he drew off Abdaldar’s Ring And cast it in the gulph. A skinny hand came up And caught it as it fell, And peals of devilish laughter shook the Cave. Then joy suffused Mohareb’s cheek, And Thalaba beheld The blue blade gleam, descending to destroy. The undefended youth Sprung forward, and he seized Mohareb in his grasp, And grappled with him breast to breast. Sinewy and large of limb Mohareb was, Broad-shouldered, and his joints Knit firm, and in the strife Of danger practised well. Time had not thus matured young Thalaba: But now the enthusiast mind, The inspiration of his soul Poured vigour like the strength Of madness thro’ his frame. Mohareb reels before him! he right on With knee, with breast, with arm, Presses the staggering foe! And now upon the brink Of that tremendous spring, There with fresh impulse and a rush of force He thrust him from his hold. The upwhirling flood received Mohareb, then, absorbed, Engulphed him in the abyss. Thalaba’s breath came fast, And panting he breathed out A broken prayer of thankfulness. At length he spake and said, “Haruth and Maruth! are ye here? “Or has that evil guide misled my search? “I, Thalaba, the Servant of the Lord, “Invoke you. Hear me Angels! so may Heaven “Accept and mitigate your penitence. “I go to root from earth the Sorcerer brood, “Tell me the needful Talisman!” Thus as he spake, recumbent on the rock Beyond the black abyss, Their forms grew visible. A settled sorrow sate upon their brows, Sorrow alone, for trace of guilt and shame No more remained; and gradual as by prayer The sin was purged away, Their robe Resumed the lustre of its native light. In awe the youth received the answering voice, “Son of Hodeirah! thou hast proved it here; “The Talisman is Faith.” END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.Thalaba the Destroyer. |
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