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36.

To wander round lost Eblis' throne.
Page 114, line 64.
Eblis, the Oriental Prince of Darkness.

37.

But first, on earth, as vampire sent.
Page 114, line 69.

Harold, Canto 2d. I was at some pains to question the man, and he described the dresses, arms, and marks of the horses of our party so accurately, that, with other circumstances, we could not doubt of his having been in "villainous company," and ourselves in a bad neighborhood. Dervish became a soothsayer for life, and I dare say is now hearing more musketry than ever will be fired, to the great refreshment of the Arnaouts of Berat, and his naThe Vampire superstition is still general in the tive mountains.-I shall mention one trait more of Levant. Honest Tournefort tells a long story, which this singular race. In March, 1811, a remarkably Mr. Southey, in the notes on Thalaba, quotes, about stout and active Arnaout came (I believe the tenth these Vroucolochas," as he calls them. The Ro- on the same errand) to offer himself as an attendmaic term is "Vardoulacha." I recollect a whole ant, which was declined: "Well, Affendi," quoth family being terrified by the scream of a child, he, "may you live!--you would have found me usewhich they imagined must proceed from such a visi- ful. I shall leave the town for the hills to-morrow, tation. The Greeks never mention the word with- in the winter I return, perhaps you will then receive out horror. I find that "Broucolokas" is an old me."-Dervish, who was present, remarked, as a legitimate Hellenic appellation-at least is so ap- thing of course, and of no consequence, "In the plied to Arsenius, who, according to the Greeks, was after his death animated by the Devil.-The moderns, however, use the word I mention.

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mean time he will join the Klephtes," (robbers,) which was true to the letter.-If not cut off, they come down in the winter, and pass it unmolested in some town, where they are often as well known as their exploits.

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This superstition of a second-hearing (for I never The circumstance to which the above story remet with downright second-sight in the east) fell lates was not very uncommon in Turkey. A few once under my own observation.-On my third years ago the wife of Muchtar Pacha complained to journey to Cape Colonna early in 1811, as we passed his father of his son's supposed infidelity; he asked through the defile that leads from the hamlet be- with whom, and she had the barbarity to give in a tween Keratiar and Colonna, I observed Dervish list of the twelve handsomest women in Yanina. Tahiri riding rather out of the path, and leaning They were seized, fastened up in sacks, and drownhis head upon his hand, as if in pain. I rode up ed in the lake the same night! One of the guards and inquired. "We are in peril," he answered. who was present informed me, that not one of the "What peril? we are not now in Albania, nor in victims uttered a cry, or showed a symptom of terthe passes to Ephesus, Messalunghi, or Lepanto; ror at so sudden a "wrench from all we know, from there are plenty of us, well armed, and the Choriates all we love." The fate of Phrosine, the fairest of have not courage to be thieves."-"True, Affendi, this sacrifice, is the subject of many a Romaic and but nevertheless the shot is ringing in my ears.' Arnaout ditty. The story in the text is one told "The shot! not a tophaike has been fired this of a young Venetian many years ago, and now morning.""I hear it notwithstanding-Bom-nearly forgotten. I heard it by accident recited by Bom-as plainly as I hear your voice."-"Pshaw." one of the coffee-house story-tellers who abound in "As you please, Affendi; if it is written, so will it the Levant, and sing or recite their narratives. be."-I left this quick-eared predestinarian, and The additions and interpolations by the translator rode up to Basili, his Christian compatriot, whose will be easily distinguished from the rest by the ears, though not at all prophetic, by no means rel- want of Eastern imagery; and I regret that my ished the intelligence. We all arrived at Colonna, memory has retained so few fragments of the origiremained some hours, and returned leisurely, say-nal.

ing a variety of brilliant things, in more languages For the contents of some the notes I am indebted than spoiled the building of Babel, upon the mis- partly to D'Herbelot, and partly to that most easttaken seer; Romaie, Arnaout, Turkish, Italian, ern, and, as Mr. Weber justly entitles it, “sublime and English were all exercised, in various conceits, tale," the " 'Caliph Vathek." I do not know from upon the unfortunate Mussulman. While we were what source the author of that singular volume contemplating the beautiful prospect, Dervish was may have drawn his materials; some of his incioccupied about the columns. I thought he was de- dents are to be found in the "Bibliotheque Orienranged into an antiquarian, and asked him if he had tale; but for correctness of costume, beauty of become a 'Palaocastro' man: "No," said he, "but description, and power of imagination, it far surthese pillars will be useful in making a stand;" passes all European imitations; and bears such and added other remarks, which at least evinced his marks of originality, that those who have visited own belief in his troublesome faculty of fore-hearing. the East, will find some difficulty in believing it to On our return to Athens, we heard from Leone (a be more than a translation. As an Eastern tale, prisoner set ashore some days after) of the intended even Rasselas must bow before it; his " Happy attack of the Mainotes, mentioned, with the cause Valley will not bear a comparison with the "Hall of its not taking place, in the notes to Childe of Eblis."

THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS;

A TURKISH TALE.

Had we never loved so kindly,

Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

BURNS.

ΤΟ

THE RIGHT HONORABLE LORD HOLLAND,

THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED,

WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT, BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED
AND SINCERE FRIEND,

BYRON.

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Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl1 in her bloom; "Let the chamber be clear'd."-The train disap Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,

And the voice of the nightingale never is mute; Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,

In color though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? 'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the sunCan he smile on such deeds as his children have done??

Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell

Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.

II.

Begirt with many a gallant slave,
Apparell'd as becomes the brave,
Awaiting each his lord's behest
To guide his steps, or guard his rest,

pear'd

"Now call me the chief of the Haram guard." With Giaffir is none but his only son,

And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award.
66 Haroun-when all the crowd that wait

Are pass'd beyond the outer gate,
(Wo to the head whose eye beheld
My child Zuleika's face unveil'd!)
Hence, lead my daughter from her tower;
Her fate is fix'd this very hour:
Yet not to her repeat my thought;
By me alone be duty taught!"

"Pacha! to hear is to obey."
No more must slave to despot say-
Then to the tower had ta'en his way,
But here young Selim silence brake,
First lowly rendering reverence meet;

And downcast look'd and gently spake,

Still standing at the Pacha's feet: For son of Moslem must expire, Ere dare to sit before his sire!

"Father! for fear that thou shouldst chide
My sister, or her sable guide,
Know-for the fault, if fault there be,
Was mine, then fall thy frowns on me-
So lovelily the morning shone,

That-let the old and weary sleep-
I could not; and to view alone

The fairest scenes of land and deep, With none to listen and reply

To thoughts with which my heart beat high

Were irksome-for whate'er my mood,

In sooth I love not solitude;

I on Zuleika's slumber broke,

And, as thou knowest that for me
Soon turns the Haram's grating key,

Before the guardian slaves awoke
We to the cypress groves had flown,

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"Son of a slave!"-the Pacha said-
"From unbelieving mother bred,
Vain were a father's hope to see
Aught that beseems a man in thee.

Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow,
And hurl the dart, and curb the steed,
Thou, Greek in soul if not in creed,
Must pore where babbling waters flow,
And watch unfolding roses blow.
Would that yon orb, whose matin glow
Thy listless eyes so much admire,
Would lend thee something of his fire!
Thou, who wouldst see this battlement
By Christian cannon piecemeal rent;
Nay, tamely view old Stambol's wall
Before the dogs of Moscow fall,

Nor strike one stroke for life and death
Against the curs of Nazareth!
Go-let thy less than woman's hand
Assume the distaff-not the brand.
But, Haroun !-to my daughter speed:
And hark-of thine own head take heed-
If thus Zuleika oft takes wing-

Thou seest yon bow-it hath a string!"

V.

No sound from Selim's lip was heard,
At least that met old Giaffir's ear,
But every frown and every word
Pierced keener than a Christian's sword.
"Son of a slave!-reproach'd with fear!
Those gibes had cost another dear.
Son of a slave!-and who my sire?"

Thus held his thoughts their dark career;

And glances even of more than ire
Flash forth, then faintly disappear.
Old Giaffir gazed upon his son

And started; for within his eye
He read how much his wrath hath done;
He saw rebellion there begun :

"Come hither, boy-what, no reply?

I mark thee and I know thee too;
But there be deeds thou dar'st not do.
But if thy beard had manlier length,
And if thy hand had skill and strength,
I'd joy to see thee break a lance,
Albeit against my own perchance'

As sneeringly these accents fell,
On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed:

That eye return'd him glance for glance,
And proudly to his sire's was raised,

Till Giaffir's quail'd and shrunk askance-
And why-he felt, but durst not tell.
"Much I misdoubt this wayward boy
Will one day work me more annoy:
I never loved him from his birth,
And-but his arm is little worth,
And scarcely in the chase could cope
With timid fawn or antelope,

Far less would venture into strife
Where man contends for fame and life-
I would not trust that look or tone;
No-nor the blood so near my own.
That blood-he hath not heard-no more-
I'll watch him closer than before.

He is an Arab to my sight,

Or Christian crouching in the fight-
But hark!-I hear Zuleika's voice:

Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear:
She is the offspring of my choice;

Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear,
With all to hope, and nought to fear-
My Peri! ever welcome here!
Sweet as the desert-fountain's wave
To lips just cool'd in time to save-

Such to my longing sight art thou;
Nor can they waft to Mecca's shrine
More thanks for life, than I for thine,

Who blest thy birth, and bless thee now!
VI.

Fair, as the first that fell of womankind,
When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling,
Whose image then was stamp'd upon her mind-
But once beguiled-and ever more beguiling;
Dazzling, as that, oh! too transcendant vision
To sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given,
When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian,
And paints the lost on earth revived in heaven;
Soft, as the memory of buried love;
Pure, as the prayer which childhood wafts above;
Was she-the daughter of this rude old chief,
Who met the maid with tears-but not of grief.

Who hath not proved how feebly words essay
To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray?
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess
The might-the majesty of loveliness?
Such was Zuleika-such around her shone
The nameless charms unmark'd by her alone;

The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind. the music breathing from her face,6
The heart, whose softness harmonized the whole-
And, oh! that eye was in itself a soul!

Her graceful arms in meekness bending
Across her gently budding breast;
At one kind word those arms extending
To clasp the neck of him who blest
His child caressing and carest,
Zuleika came-and Giaffir felt
His purpose half within him melt:
Not that against her fancied weal
His heart though stern could ever feel;
Affection chain'd her to that heart;
Ambition tore the links apart.

VII.

"Zuleika! child of gentleness!
How dear this very day must tell,
When I forget my own distress,
In losing what I love so well,
To bid thee with another dwell:
Another and a braver man
Was never seen in battle's van.
We Moslem reck not much of blood;
But yet the line of Carasman 7
Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood
First of the bold Timariot bands
That won and well can keep their lands.
Enough that he who comes to woo
Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou :

His years need scarce a thought employ;
I would not have thee wed a boy.
And thou shalt have a noble dower:
And his and my united power
Will laugh to scorn the death-firman,
Which others tremble but to scan.
And teach the messenger 8 what fate
The bearer of such boon may wait.
And now thou know'st thy father's will;
All that thy sex hath need to know:
"Twas mine to teach obedience still-
The way to love thy lord may show."

VIII.

In silence bow'd the virgin's head;
And if her eye was fill'd with tears,
That stifled feeling dare not shed,
And changed her cheek from pale to red,
And red to pale, as through her ears
Those winged words like arrows sped,
What could such be but maiden fears?
So bright the tear in beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
So sweet the blush of bashfulness,

Even pity scarce can wish it less!
Whate'er it was the sire forgot;
Or if remember'd, mark'd it not:

Thrice clapp'd his hands, and call'd his steed,
Resign'd his gem-adorn'd Chibouke,10

And mounting featly for the mead,
With Maugrabee " and Mamaluke,

His way amid his Delis took,12
To witness many an active deed
With sabre keen, and blunt jerreed.
The Kislar only and his Moors

Watch'd well the Haram's massy doors.

IX.

His head was leant upon his hand,

His eye look'd o'er the dark-blue water
That swiftly glides and gently swells
Between the winding Dardanelles;
But yet he saw nor sea nor strand,
Nor even his Pacha's turban'd band

Mix in the game of mimic slaughter,
Careering cleave the folded felt 13
With sabre stroke right sharply dealt;
Nor mark'd the javelin-darting crowd,
Nor heard their Ollahs 14 wild and loud-

He thought but of old Giaffir's daughter.
X.

No word from Selim's bosom broke;
One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke:
Still gazed he through the lattice grate
Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.
To him Zuleika's eye was turn'd,
But little from his aspect learn'd:
Equal her grief, yet not the same;
Her heart confess'd a gentler flame,
But yet that heart alarm'd or weak,
She knew not why, forbade to speak
Yet speak she must-but when essay?
"How strange he thus should turn away!
Not thus we e'er before have met;
Not thus shall be our parting yet."
Thrice paced she slowly through the room,
And watch'd his eye-it still was fix'd;
She snatch'd the urn wherein was mix'd
The Persian Atar-gul's 15 perfume,
And sprinkled all its odors o'er

The pictured roof 16 and marble floor:

The drops, that through his glittering vest The playful girl's appeal addrest,

Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,

As if that breast were marble too.

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What, sullen yet? it must not beOh! gentle Selim, this from thee!" She saw in curious order set

The fairest flowers of Eastern land"He loved them once; may touch them yet, If offer'd by Zuleika's hand."

The childish thought was hardly breath'd
Before the rose was pluck'd and wreathed:
The next fond moment saw her seat
Her fairy form at Selim's feet:
"This rose to calm my brother's cares
A message from the Bulbul 17 bears;
It says to-night he will prolong
For Selim's ear his sweetest song;
And though his note is somewhat sad,
He'll try for once a strain more glad,
With some faint hope his alter'd lay
May sing these gloomy thoughts away.

XI.

"What! not receive my foolish flower? Nay then I am indeed unblest:

On me can thus thy forehead lower?

And know'st thou not who loves thee best? Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest!

Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest?

Come, lay thy head upon my breast,

And I will kiss thee into rest,

Since words of mine, and songs must fail.

Even from my fabled nigtingale.

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I knew our sire at times was stern,
But this from thee had yet to learn:
Too well I know he loves thee not;
But is Zuleika's love forgot?

Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan—
This kinsman Bey of Carasman
I'erhaps may prove some foe of thine.
If so, I swear by Mecca's shrine,
If shrines that ne'er approach allow
To woman's step admit her vow,
Without thy free consent, command,
The Sultan should not have my hand!
Think'st thou that I could bear to part
With thee, and learn to halve my heart?
Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,
Where were thy friend-and who my guide?
Years have not seen, time shall not see
The hour that tears my soul from thee:
Even Azrael 18 from his deadly quiver

When flies that shaft, and fly it must,
That parts all else, shall doom for ever
Our hearts to undivided dust!"

XII.

He lived-he breathed-he moved--he felt; He raised the maid from where she knelt; His trance was gone-his keen eye shone With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt; With thoughts that burn-in rays that melt. As the stream late conceal'd

By the fringe of its willows, When it rushes reveal'd

In the light of its billows; As the bolt bursts on high

From the black cloud that bound it,
Flash'd the soul of that eye

Through the long lashes round it.
A war-horse at the trumpet's sound,
A lion roused by heedless hound,
A tyrant waked to sudden strife
By graze of ill-directed knife,
Starts not to more convulsive life

Than he, who heard that vow, display'd,
And all, before repress'd, betray'd:
"Now thou art mine, for ever mine,

With life to keep, and scarce with life resign;
Now thou art mine, that sacred oath,
Though sworn by one, hath bound us both.
Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done;

That vow hath saved more heads than one:
But blench not thou-thy simplest tress
Claims more from me than tenderness;
I would not wrong the slenderest hair
That cluster round thy forehead fair,
For all the treasures buried far
Within the caves of Istakar.19
This morning clouds upon me lower'd,
Reproaches on my head were shower'd,
And Giaffir almost called me coward!
Now I have motive to be brave;
The son of his neglected slave,
Nay, start not 'twas the term he gave,
May show, though little apt to vaunt,
A heart his words nor deeds can daunt.
His son, indeed!-yet, thanks to thee,
Perchance I am, at least shall be;
But let our plighted secret vow
Be only known to us as now

I know the wretch who dares demana
From Giaffir thy reluctant hand;
More ill-got wealth, a meaner soul
Holds not a Musselims 20 control:
Was he not bred in Egripo? 21

A viler race let Israel show!
But let that pass-to none be told
Our oath; the rest shall time unfold.
To me and mine leave Osman Bey;
I've partisans for peril's day:
Think not I am what I appear;

I've arms, and friends, and vengeance near

XIII.

"Think not thou art what thou appearest.
My Selim, thou art sadly changed:
This morn I saw thee gentlest, dearest;
But now thou'rt from thyself estranged.
My love thou surely knew'st before,
It ne'er was less, nor can be more.
To see thee, hear thee, near thee stay,

And hate the night I know not why,
Save that we meet not but by day;

With thee to live, with thee to die, I dare not to my hope deny: Thy cheek, thine eyes, thy lips to kiss, Like this-and this-no more than this; For, Alla! sure thy lips are flame:

What fever in thy veins is flushing? My own have nearly caught the same,

At least I feel my cheek too blushing, To sooth thy sickness, watch thy health, Partake, but never waste thy wealth, Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by, And lighten half thy poverty; Do all but close thy dying eye, For that I could not live to try; To these alone my thoughts aspire: More can I do? or thou require? But, Selim, thou must answer why We see so much of mystery?

The cause I cannot dream nor tell,

But be it, since thou say'st 'tis well;

Yet what thou mean'st by arms' and 'friends Beyond my weaker sense extends.

I meant that Giaffir should have heard

The very vow I plighted thee;

His wrath would not revoke my word:
But surely he would leave me free.
Can this fond wish seem strange in me,
To be what I have ever been?
What other hath Zuleika seen
From simple childhood's earliest hour?
What other can she seek to see
Than thee, companion of her bower,
The partner of her infancy?
These cherish'd thoughts with life begun,
Say, why must I no more avow?
What change is wrought to make me shun

The truth; my pride, and thine till now?
To meet the gaze of stranger's eyes

Our law, our creed, our God denies ;
Nor shall one wandering thought of mine
At such, our Prophet's will repine:
No! happier made by that decree!
He left me all in leaving thee.
Deep were my anguish, thus compell's
To wed with one I ne'er beheld:

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