He died too in the battle broil, A time that heeds nor pain nor toil; One cry to Mahomet for aid, One prayer to Alla all he made : He knew and cross'd me in the fray — I search'd, but vainly search'd, to find "The cold in clime are cold in blood, Their love can scarce deserve the name; But mine was like a lava flood That boils in tna's breast of flame. If changing cheek, and scorching vein, 1 but first I have possess'd, in his troublesome faculty of fore-hearing. On our return to Athens we heard from Leoné (a prisoner set ashore some days after) of the intended attack of the Mainotes, mentioned, with the cause of its not taking place, in the notes to Childe 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 "villanous com pany," and ourselves in a bad neighbourhood. 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 native mountains, I shall mention one trait more of this singular race. In March, 1811, a remarkably stout and active Arnaout came (I believe the fiftieth on the same errand) to offer himself as an attendant, which was declined: "Well, Affendi," quoth he, "may you live! you would have found me useful I shall leave the town for the hills to-morrow, in the winter I return, perhaps you will then receive me." Dervish, who was present, remarked as a thing of course, and of no consequence," in the 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. ["I cannot prate in puling strain Of bursting heart and maddening brain, 2 ["Even now alone, yet undismay'd, I know no friend and ask no aid."- MS.] 3 [These, in our opinion, are the most beautiful passages of the poem; and some of them of a beauty which it would not be easy to eclipse by many citations in the language.. JEFFREY.] The hundred and twenty-six lines which follow, down to "Tell me no more of fancy's gleam," first appeared in the fifth edition. In returning the proof to Mr. Murray, Lord But for the thought of Leila slain, This breaking heart and throbbing head "Yes, Love indeed is light from heaven; 4 A spark of that immortal fire With angels shared, by Alla given, To lift from earth our low desire. 5 That quench'd, what beam shall break my night? 6 This present joy, this future hope, That seem to add but guilt to woe? Hath nought to dread from outward blow; Byron says: "I have, but with some difficulty, not added any more to this snake of a poem, which has been lengthening its rattles every month. It is now fearfully long, being more than a canto and a half of Childe Harold. The last lines Hodgson likes. It is not often he does; and when he don't, he tells me with great energy, and I fret, and alter. I have thrown them in to soften the ferocity of our Infidel; and, for a dying man, have given him a good deal to say for himself. Do you know any body who can stop-I mean, point- -commas, and so forth? for I am, I hear, a sad hand at your punctuation." 5 [Among the Giaour MSS. is the first draught of this passage, which we subjoin: "Yes? If S (doth spring Love indeed descend A spark of that from heaven; be born immortal eternal celestial fire, To human hearts in mercy given, To lift from earth our low desire. A feeling from the Godhead caught, To wean from self{each} sordid thought; Devotion sends the soul above, This present joy, this future hope, That seem Alas! the Sto add but guilt to breast heart that inly bleeds, Has nought to dread from outward foe," &c.] 6" 'Tis quench'd, and I am lost in night."- MS.] Who falls from all he knows of bliss, To thee, old man, my deeds appear: I read abhorrence on thy brow, And this too was I born to bear! But deem such feeble, heartless man, My good, my guilt, my weal, my woe, For worlds I dare not view the dame "And she was lost-and yet I breathed, Thou see'st I soon shall part from hence: The deed that's done canst thou undo? 1[" And let the light, inconstant fool That sneers his coxcomb ridicule."- MS.] 2 The monk's sermon is omitted. It seems to have had so little effect upon the patient, that it could have no hopes from the reader. It may be sufficient to say, that it was of a customary length (as may be perceived from the interruptions and uneasiness of the patient), and was delivered in the usual tone of all orthodox preachers. And calm the lonely lioness: When heart with heart delights to blend, I would remind him of my end: 5 Though souls absorb'd like mine allow And I have smiled-I then could smile And warn-I reck'd not what-the while: Through many a busy bitter scene I do not ask him not to blame, I do not ask him not to mourn, Such cold request might sound like scorn; But bear this ring, his own of old, "Tell me no more of fancy's gleam, As something welcome, new, and dear; Which now I gaze on, as on her, And art thou, dearest, changed so much, They shrink upon my lonely breast; I saw him buried where he fell ; He comes not, for he cannot break 1 [" Which now I view with trembling spark."- MS.] 2 The circumstance to which the above story relates was not very uncommon in Turkey. A few years ago the wife of Muchtar Pacha complained to his father of his son's supposed infidelity; he asked with whom, and she had the barbarity to give in a list of the twelve handsomest women in Yanina. They were seized, fastened up in sacks, and drowned in the lake the same night! One of the guards who was present informed me, that not one of the victims uttered a cry, or showed a symptom of terror at so sudden a "wrench from all we know, from all we love." The fate of Phrosine, the fairest of this sacrifice, is the subject of many a Romaic and Arnaout ditty. The story in the text is one told of a young Venetian many years ago, and now nearly forgotten. I heard it by accident recited by one of the coffee-house story-tellers who abound in the Levant, and sing or recite their narratives. The additions and interpolations by the translator will be easily distinguished from the rest, by the want of Eastern imagery; and I regret that my memory has retained so few fragments of the original. For the contents of some of the notes I am indebted partly to D'Herbelot, and partly to that most Eastern, and, as Mr. Weber justly entitles it, "sublime tale," the "Caliph Vathek." I do not know from what source the author of that singular volume may have drawn his materials; some of his incidents are to be found in the "Biblio They told me wild waves roll'd above Or farther with thee bear my soul "Such is my name, and such my tale. Confessor to thy secret ear I breathe the sorrows I bewail, And thank thee for the generous tear He pass'd-nor of his name and race thèque Orientale;" but for correctness of costume, beauty of description, and power of imagination, it far surpasses all European imitations; and bears such marks of originality, that those who have visited the East will find some difficulty in believing it to be more than a translation. As an Eastern tale, even Rasselas must bow before it; his " Happy Valley" will not bear a comparison with the " Hall of Eblis." 3 ["Nor whether most he mourn'd none knew, For her he loved, or him he slew."- MS.] 4 [In this poem, which was published after the two first cantos of Childe Harold, Lord Byron began to show his powers. He had now received encouragement which set free his daring hands, and gave his strokes their natural force. Here, then, we first find passages of a tone peculiar to Lord Byron; but still this appearance was not uniform: he often returned to his trammels, and reminds us of the manner of some favourite predecessor: among these, I think we sometimes catch the notes of Sir Walter Scott. But the internal tempest -the deep passion, sometimes buried, and sometimes blazing from some incidental touch-the intensity of agonising reflection, which will always distinguish Lord Byron from other writers now began to display themselves. - SIR EGERTON BRYDGES.] ! KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle 3 Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom; 1 [The "Bride of Abydos" was published in the beginning of December, 1813. The mood of mind in which it was struck off is thus stated by Lord Byron, in a letter to Mr. Gifford : "You have been good enough to look at a thing of mine in MS. a Turkish story- and I should feel gratified if you would do it the same favour in its probationary state of printing. It was written, I cannot say for amusement, nor obliged by hunger and request of friends,' but in a state of mind, from circumstances which occasionally occur to us youth,' that rendered it necessary for me to apply my mind to something, any thing, but reality; and under this not very brilliant inspiration it was composed. Send it either to the flames, or Begirt with many a gallant slave, Deep thought was in his aged eye; His pensive cheek and pondering brow Did more than he was wont avow. III. "Let the chamber be clear'd.". The train disappear'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. 2 ["Murray tells me that Croker asked him why the thing is called the Bride of Abydos? It is an awkward question, being unanswerable: she is not a bride; only about to be one. I don't wonder at his finding out the Bull; but the detection is too late to do any good. I was a great fool to have made it, and am ashamed of not being an Irishman.”— - Byron Diary, Dec. 6. 1813.] 3 [To the Bride of Abydos, Lord Byron made many additions during its progress through the press, amounting to about two hundred lines; and, as in the case of the Giaour, the passages so added will be seen to be some of the most splendid in the whole poem. These opening lines, which are among the new insertions, are supposed to have been suggested by a song of Goethe's "Kennst du das Land wo die citronen blühn."] 4" Gúl," the rose. 5 "Souls made of fire, and children of the Sun, With whom revenge is virtue."-YOUNG's Revenge. 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- First lowly rendering reverence meet; "Father for fear that thou shouldst chide That-let the old and weary sleep- The fairest scenes of land and deep, To thoughts with which my heart beat high 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 And made earth, main, and heaven our own! IV. "Son of a slave"- the Pacha said. 1 Mejnoun and Leila, the Romeo and Juliet of the East. Sadi, the moral poet of Persia. "Turkish drum, which sounds at sunrise, noon, and twilight. |