Chapter 10

1. What thoughts had sway o’er Cythna’s lonely slumber That night, I know not; but my own did seem As if they might ten thousand years outnumber _1110 Of waking life, the visions of a dream Which hid in one dim gulf the troubled stream Of mind; a boundless chaos wild and vast, Whose limits yet were never memory’s theme: And I lay struggling as its whirlwinds passed, _1115 Sometimes for rapture sick, sometimes for pain aghast.

2. Two hours, whose mighty circle did embrace More time than might make gray the infant world, Rolled thus, a weary and tumultuous space: When the third came, like mist on breezes curled, _1120 From my dim sleep a shadow was unfurled: Methought, upon the threshold of a cave I sate with Cythna; drooping briony, pearled With dew from the wild streamlet’s shattered wave, Hung, where we sate to taste the joys which Nature gave. _1125

3. We lived a day as we were wont to live, But Nature had a robe of glory on, And the bright air o’er every shape did weave Intenser hues, so that the herbless stone, The leafless bough among the leaves alone, _1130 Had being clearer than its own could be, And Cythna’s pure and radiant self was shown, In this strange vision, so divine to me, That if I loved before, now love was agony.

4. Morn fled, noon came, evening, then night descended, _1135 And we prolonged calm talk beneath the sphere Of the calm moon—when suddenly was blended With our repose a nameless sense of fear; And from the cave behind I seemed to hear Sounds gathering upwards!—accents incomplete, _1140 And stifled shrieks,—and now, more near and near, A tumult and a rush of thronging feet The cavern’s secret depths beneath the earth did beat.

5. The scene was changed, and away, away, away! Through the air and over the sea we sped, _1145 And Cythna in my sheltering bosom lay, And the winds bore me—through the darkness spread Around, the gaping earth then vomited Legions of foul and ghastly shapes, which hung Upon my flight; and ever, as we fled, _1150 They plucked at Cythna—soon to me then clung A sense of actual things those monstrous dreams among.

6. And I lay struggling in the impotence Of sleep, while outward life had burst its bound, Though, still deluded, strove the tortured sense _1155 To its dire wanderings to adapt the sound Which in the light of morn was poured around Our dwelling; breathless, pale and unaware I rose, and all the cottage crowded found With armed men, whose glittering swords were bare, _1160 And whose degraded limbs the tyrant’s garb did wear.

7. And, ere with rapid lips and gathered brow I could demand the cause—a feeble shriek— It was a feeble shriek, faint, far and low, Arrested me—my mien grew calm and meek, _1165 And grasping a small knife, I went to seek That voice among the crowd—’twas Cythna’s cry! Beneath most calm resolve did agony wreak Its whirlwind rage:—so I passed quietly Till I beheld, where bound, that dearest child did lie. _1170

8. I started to behold her, for delight And exultation, and a joyance free, Solemn, serene and lofty, filled the light Of the calm smile with which she looked on me: So that I feared some brainless ecstasy, _1175 Wrought from that bitter woe, had wildered her— ‘Farewell! farewell!’ she said, as I drew nigh; ‘At first my peace was marred by this strange stir, Now I am calm as truth—its chosen minister.

9. ‘Look not so, Laon—say farewell in hope, _1180 These bloody men are but the slaves who bear Their mistress to her task—it was my scope The slavery where they drag me now, to share, And among captives willing chains to wear Awhile—the rest thou knowest—return, dear friend! _1185 Let our first triumph trample the despair Which would ensnare us now, for in the end, In victory or in death our hopes and fears must blend.’

10. These words had fallen on my unheeding ear, Whilst I had watched the motions of the crew _1190 With seeming-careless glance; not many were Around her, for their comrades just withdrew To guard some other victim—so I drew My knife, and with one impulse, suddenly All unaware three of their number slew, _1195 And grasped a fourth by the throat, and with loud cry My countrymen invoked to death or liberty!

11. What followed then, I know not—for a stroke On my raised arm and naked head, came down, Filling my eyes with blood.—When I awoke, _1200 I felt that they had bound me in my swoon, And up a rock which overhangs the town, By the steep path were bearing me; below, The plain was filled with slaughter,—overthrown The vineyards and the harvests, and the glow _1205 Of blazing roofs shone far o’er the white Ocean’s flow.

12. Upon that rock a mighty column stood, Whose capital seemed sculptured in the sky, Which to the wanderers o’er the solitude Of distant seas, from ages long gone by, _1210 Had made a landmark; o’er its height to fly Scarcely the cloud, the vulture, or the blast, Has power—and when the shades of evening lie On Earth and Ocean, its carved summits cast The sunken daylight far through the aerial waste. _1215

13. They bore me to a cavern in the hill Beneath that column, and unbound me there; And one did strip me stark; and one did fill A vessel from the putrid pool; one bare A lighted torch, and four with friendless care _1220 Guided my steps the cavern-paths along, Then up a steep and dark and narrow stair We wound, until the torch’s fiery tongue Amid the gushing day beamless and pallid hung.

14. They raised me to the platform of the pile, _1225 That column’s dizzy height:—the grate of brass Through which they thrust me, open stood the while, As to its ponderous and suspended mass, With chains which eat into the flesh, alas! With brazen links, my naked limbs they bound: _1230 The grate, as they departed to repass, With horrid clangour fell, and the far sound Of their retiring steps in the dense gloom was drowned.

15. The noon was calm and bright:—around that column The overhanging sky and circling sea _1235 Spread forth in silentness profound and solemn The darkness of brief frenzy cast on me, So that I knew not my own misery: The islands and the mountains in the day Like clouds reposed afar; and I could see _1240 The town among the woods below that lay, And the dark rocks which bound the bright and glassy bay.

16. It was so calm, that scarce the feathery weed Sown by some eagle on the topmost stone Swayed in the air:—so bright, that noon did breed _1245 No shadow in the sky beside mine own— Mine, and the shadow of my chain alone. Below, the smoke of roofs involved in flame Rested like night, all else was clearly shown In that broad glare; yet sound to me none came, _1250 But of the living blood that ran within my frame.

17. The peace of madness fled, and ah, too soon! A ship was lying on the sunny main, Its sails were flagging in the breathless noon— Its shadow lay beyond—that sight again _1255 Waked, with its presence, in my tranced brain The stings of a known sorrow, keen and cold: I knew that ship bore Cythna o’er the plain Of waters, to her blighting slavery sold, And watched it with such thoughts as must remain untold. _1260

18. I watched until the shades of evening wrapped Earth like an exhalation—then the bark Moved, for that calm was by the sunset snapped. It moved a speck upon the Ocean dark: Soon the wan stars came forth, and I could mark _1265 Its path no more!—I sought to close mine eyes, But like the balls, their lids were stiff and stark; I would have risen, but ere that I could rise, My parched skin was split with piercing agonies.

19. I gnawed my brazen chain, and sought to sever _1270 Its adamantine links, that I might die: O Liberty! forgive the base endeavour, Forgive me, if, reserved for victory, The Champion of thy faith e’er sought to fly.— That starry night, with its clear silence, sent _1275 Tameless resolve which laughed at misery Into my soul—linked remembrance lent To that such power, to me such a severe content.

20. To breathe, to be, to hope, or to despair And die, I questioned not; nor, though the Sun _1280 Its shafts of agony kindling through the air Moved over me, nor though in evening dun, Or when the stars their visible courses run, Or morning, the wide universe was spread In dreary calmness round me, did I shun _1285 Its presence, nor seek refuge with the dead From one faint hope whose flower a dropping poison shed.

21. Two days thus passed—I neither raved nor died— Thirst raged within me, like a scorpion’s nest Built in mine entrails; I had spurned aside _1290 The water-vessel, while despair possessed My thoughts, and now no drop remained! The uprest Of the third sun brought hunger—but the crust Which had been left, was to my craving breast Fuel, not food. I chewed the bitter dust, _1295 And bit my bloodless arm, and licked the brazen rust.

22. My brain began to fail when the fourth morn Burst o’er the golden isles—a fearful sleep, Which through the caverns dreary and forlorn Of the riven soul, sent its foul dreams to sweep _1300 With whirlwind swiftness—a fall far and deep,— A gulf, a void, a sense of senselessness— These things dwelt in me, even as shadows keep Their watch in some dim charnel’s loneliness, A shoreless sea, a sky sunless and planetless! _1305

23. The forms which peopled this terrific trance I well remember—like a choir of devils, Around me they involved a giddy dance; Legions seemed gathering from the misty levels Of Ocean, to supply those ceaseless revels, _1310 Foul, ceaseless shadows:—thought could not divide The actual world from these entangling evils, Which so bemocked themselves, that I descried All shapes like mine own self, hideously multiplied.

24. The sense of day and night, of false and true, _1315 Was dead within me. Yet two visions burst That darkness—one, as since that hour I knew, Was not a phantom of the realms accursed, Where then my spirit dwelt—but of the first I know not yet, was it a dream or no. _1320 But both, though not distincter, were immersed In hues which, when through memory’s waste they flow, Make their divided streams more bright and rapid now.

25. Methought that grate was lifted, and the seven Who brought me thither four stiff corpses bare, _1325 And from the frieze to the four winds of Heaven Hung them on high by the entangled hair; Swarthy were three—the fourth was very fair; As they retired, the golden moon upsprung, And eagerly, out in the giddy air, _1330 Leaning that I might eat, I stretched and clung Over the shapeless depth in which those corpses hung.

26. A woman’s shape, now lank and cold and blue, The dwelling of the many-coloured worm, Hung there; the white and hollow cheek I drew _1335 To my dry lips—what radiance did inform Those horny eyes? whose was that withered form? Alas, alas! it seemed that Cythna’s ghost Laughed in those looks, and that the flesh was warm Within my teeth!—a whirlwind keen as frost _1340 Then in its sinking gulfs my sickening spirit tossed.

27. Then seemed it that a tameless hurricane Arose, and bore me in its dark career Beyond the sun, beyond the stars that wane On the verge of formless space—it languished there, _1345 And dying, left a silence lone and drear, More horrible than famine:—in the deep The shape of an old man did then appear, Stately and beautiful; that dreadful sleep His heavenly smiles dispersed, and I could wake and weep. _1350

28. And, when the blinding tears had fallen, I saw That column, and those corpses, and the moon, And felt the poisonous tooth of hunger gnaw My vitals, I rejoiced, as if the boon Of senseless death would be accorded soon;— _1355 When from that stony gloom a voice arose, Solemn and sweet as when low winds attune The midnight pines; the grate did then unclose, And on that reverend form the moonlight did repose.

29. He struck my chains, and gently spake and smiled; _1360 As they were loosened by that Hermit old, Mine eyes were of their madness half beguiled, To answer those kind looks; he did enfold His giant arms around me, to uphold My wretched frame; my scorched limbs he wound _1365 In linen moist and balmy, and as cold As dew to drooping leaves;—the chain, with sound Like earthquake, through the chasm of that steep stair did bound,

30. As, lifting me, it fell!—What next I heard, Were billows leaping on the harbour-bar, _1370 And the shrill sea-wind, whose breath idly stirred My hair;—I looked abroad, and saw a star Shining beside a sail, and distant far That mountain and its column, the known mark Of those who in the wide deep wandering are, _1375 So that I feared some Spirit, fell and dark, In trance had lain me thus within a fiendish bark.

31. For now indeed, over the salt sea-billow I sailed: yet dared not look upon the shape Of him who ruled the helm, although the pillow _1380 For my light head was hollowed in his lap, And my bare limbs his mantle did enwrap, Fearing it was a fiend: at last, he bent O’er me his aged face; as if to snap Those dreadful thoughts the gentle grandsire bent, _1385 And to my inmost soul his soothing looks he sent.

32. A soft and healing potion to my lips At intervals he raised—now looked on high, To mark if yet the starry giant dips His zone in the dim sea—now cheeringly, _1390 Though he said little, did he speak to me. ‘It is a friend beside thee—take good cheer, Poor victim, thou art now at liberty!’ I joyed as those a human tone to hear, Who in cells deep and lone have languished many a year. _1395

33. A dim and feeble joy, whose glimpses oft Were quenched in a relapse of wildering dreams; Yet still methought we sailed, until aloft The stars of night grew pallid, and the beams Of morn descended on the ocean-streams, _1400 And still that aged man, so grand and mild, Tended me, even as some sick mother seems To hang in hope over a dying child, Till in the azure East darkness again was piled.

34. And then the night-wind steaming from the shore, _1405 Sent odours dying sweet across the sea, And the swift boat the little waves which bore, Were cut by its keen keel, though slantingly; Soon I could hear the leaves sigh, and could see The myrtle-blossoms starring the dim grove, _1410 As past the pebbly beach the boat did flee On sidelong wing, into a silent cove, Where ebon pines a shade under the starlight wove.

NOTES: _1223 torches’ editions 1818, 1839. _1385 bent]meant cj. J. Nettleship.