Part 5

Then Pomp and Pleasure dwelt within her walls The Merchants of the East and of the West Met in her arched[90] Bazars; 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[91] current bore 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[92] domes Yet wore one dusky hue, The Cranes upon the Mosque Kept their night-clatter[93] still, When thro' the gate the early Traveller past. And when at evening o'er the swampy plain The Bittern's[94] Boom came far, Distinct in darkness seen Above the low horizon's lingering light Rose the near ruins of old Babylon.

Once from her lofty walls[95] the Charioteer 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[96] Gardens, height on height Rising like Medias mountains crowned with wood, Work of imperial dotage? where the fame Of[97] Belus? where the Golden Image now, 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[98] eyes afar 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[99] wealth?"

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[100] lake 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[101] fast 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[102] upon thy brow "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[103] keeps the cave, "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[104] spell "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[105] grave beside the public way, "There to less-knowing fools "Retail thy Koran[106] scraps, "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[107] of glory, purified of stain 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.

by

Robert Southey.

[Greek: Poiêmatôn akratês ê eleutheria, kai nomos eis, to doxan tô poiêtê.]

_Lucian, Quomodo Hist. scribenda._

THE SECOND VOLUME.

_LONDON_: PRINTED FOR T. N. LONGMAN AND O. REES, PATERNOSTER-ROW, BY BIGGS AND COTTLE, BRISTOL.

1801.

_CONTENTS._

The sixth Book 1 The seventh Book 51 The eighth Book 89 The ninth Book 139 The tenth Book 203 The eleventh Book 261 The twelfth Book 299

The Sixth Book.

_THALABA THE DESTROYER._

_THE SIXTH BOOK._

So from the inmost cavern, Thalaba Retrod the windings of the rock. Still on the ground the giant limbs Of Zohak were outstretched; The spell of sleep had ceased And his broad eyes were glaring on the youth: Yet raised he not his arm to bar the way, Fearful to rouse the snakes Now lingering o'er their meal.

Oh then, emerging from that dreadful cave, How grateful did the gale of night Salute his freshened sense! How full of lightsome joy, Thankful to Heaven, he hastens by the verge Of that bitumen lake, Whose black and heavy fumes, Surge heaving after surge, Rolled like the billowy and tumultuous sea.

The song of many a bird at morn Aroused him from his rest. Lo! by his side a courser stood! More animate of eye, Of form more faultless never had he seen, More light of limbs and beautiful in strength, Among the race whose blood, Pure and unmingled, from the royal steeds Of [108]Solomon came down.

The chosen Arab's eye Glanced o'er his graceful shape, His rich caparisons, His crimson trappings gay. But when he saw the mouth Uncurbed, the unbridled neck, Then flushed his cheek, and leapt his heart, For sure he deemed that Heaven had sent The Courser, whom no erring hand should guide. And lo! the eager Steed Throws his head and paws the ground, Impatient of delay! Then up leapt Thalaba And away went the self-governed steed.

Far over the plain Away went the bridleless steed; With the dew of the morning his fetlocks were wet, The foam frothed his limbs in the journey of noon, Nor stayed he till over the westerly heaven The shadows of evening had spread. Then on a sheltered bank The appointed Youth reposed, And by him laid the docile courser down. Again in the grey of the morning Thalaba bounded up, Over hill, over dale Away goes the bridleless steed. Again at eve he stops Again the Youth descends. His load discharged, his errand done, Then bounded the courser away.

Heavy and dark the eve; The Moon was hid on high, A dim light only tinged the mist That crost her in the path of Heaven. All living sounds had ceased, Only the flow of waters near was heard, A low and lulling melody. Fasting, yet not of want Percipient, he on that mysterious steed Had reached his resting place, For expectation kept his nature up. The flow of waters now Awoke a feverish thirst: Led by the sound, he moved To seek the grateful wave. A meteor in the hazy air Played before his path; Before him now it rolled A globe of livid fire; And now contracted to a steady light, As when the solitary hermit prunes His lamp's long undulating flame: And now its wavy point Up-blazing rose, like a young cypress-tree Swayed by the heavy wind; Anon to Thalaba it moved, And wrapped him in its pale innocuous fire: Now in the darkness drowned Left him with eyes bedimmed, And now emerging[109] spread the scene to sight.

Led by the sound, and meteor-flame Advanced the Arab youth. Now to the nearest of the many rills He stoops; ascending steam Timely repels his hand, For from its source it sprung, a boiling tide. A second course with better hap he tries, The wave intensly cold Tempts to a copious draught. There was a virtue in the wave, His limbs that stiff with toil, Dragged heavy, from the copious draught received Lightness and supple strength. O'erjoyed, and deeming the benignant Power Who sent the reinless steed, Had blessed the healing waters to his use He laid him down to sleep; Lulled by the soothing and incessant sound, The flow of many waters, blending oft With shriller tones and deep low murmurings That from the fountain caves In mingled melody Like faery music, heard at midnight, came.

The sounds that last he heard at night Awoke his sense at morn. A scene of wonders lay before his eyes. In mazy windings o'er the vale Wandered a thousand streams; They in their endless flow[110] had channelled deep The rocky soil o'er which they ran, Veining its thousand islet stones, Like clouds that freckle o'er the summer sky, The blue etherial ocean circling each And insulating all. A thousand shapes they wore, those islet stones, And Nature with her various tints Varied anew their thousand forms: For some were green with moss, Some rich with yellow lichen's gold, Or ruddier tinged, or grey, or silver-white, Or sparkling sparry radiance to the sun. Here gushed the fountains up, Alternate light and blackness, like the play Of sunbeams, on the warrior's burnished arms. Yonder the river rolled, whose bed, Their labyrinthine lingerings o'er Received the confluent rills.