Then Thalaba drew off Abdaldar’s ring,

And cast it in the sea, and cried aloud,

“Thou art my shield, my trust, my hope, O God!

“Behold and guard me now,

“Thou who alone canst save.

“If from my childhood up, I have looked on

“With exultation to my destiny,

“If, in the hour of anguish, I have felt

“The justice of the hand that chastened me,

“If, of all selfish passions purified,

“I go to work thy will, and from the world

“Root up the ill-doing race,

“Lord! let not thou the weakness of my arm

“Make vain the enterprize!”

The Sun was rising all magnificent,

Ocean and Heaven rejoicing in his beams.

And now had Thalaba

Performed his last ablutions, and he stood

And gazed upon the little boat

Riding the billows near,

Where, like a sea-bird breasting the broad waves,

It rose and fell upon the surge;

Till from the glitterance of the sunny main

He turned his aching eyes,

And then upon the beach he laid him down

And watched the rising tide.

He did not pray, he was not calm for prayer;

His spirit troubled with tumultuous hope

Toiled with futurity.

His brain, with busier workings, felt

The roar and raving of the restless sea,

The boundless waves that rose and rolled and rocked;

The everlasting sound

Opprest him, and the heaving infinite,

He closed his lids for rest.

Meantime with fuller reach and stronger swell

Wave after wave advanced;

Each following billow lifted the last foam

That trembled on the sand with rainbow hues;

The living flower, that, rooted to the rock,

Late from the thinner element

Shrunk down within its purple stem to sleep,

Now feels the water, and again

Awakening blossoms out

All its green anther-necks.

Was there a Spirit in the gale

That fluttered o’er his cheek?

For it came on him like the gentle sun

That plays and dallies o’er the night-closed flower,

And woos it to unfold anew to joy;

For it came on him as the dews of eve

Descend with healing and with life

Upon the summer mead;

Or liker the first sound of seraph song

And Angel hail, to him

Whose latest sense had shuddered at the groan

Of anguish, kneeling by his death bed-side.

He starts and gazes round to seek

The certain presence. “Thalaba!” exclaimed

The Voice of the Unseen;...

“Father of my Oneiza!” he replied,

“And have thy years been numbered? art thou too

“Among the Angels?” “Thalaba!”

A second and a dearer voice repeats,

“Go in the favour of the Lord

“My Thalaba go on!

“My husband. I have drest our bower of bliss.

“Go and perform the work,

“Let me not longer suffer hope in heaven!”

He turned an eager glance towards the sea,

“Come!” quoth the Damsel, and she drove

Her little boat to land.

Impatient thro’ the rising wave

He rushed to meet its way,

His eye was bright, his cheek was flushed with joy.

“Hast thou had comfort in thy prayers?” she cried,

“Yea,” answered Thalaba,

“A heavenly visitation.” “God be praised!”

She uttered, “then I do not hope in vain!”

And her voice trembled, and her lips

Quivered, and tears ran down.

“Stranger,” quoth she, “in years long past

“Was one who vowed himself

“The Champion of the Lord like thee

“Against the race of Hell.

“Young was he, as thyself,

“Gentle, and yet so brave!

“A lion-hearted man.

“Shame on me, Stranger! in the arms of love

“I held him from his calling, till the hour

“Was past, and then the Angel who should else

“Have crowned him with his glory-wreath,

“Smote him in anger ... years and years are gone....

“And in his place of penance he awaits

“Thee the Deliverer, surely thou art he!

“It was my righteous punishment

“In the same youth unchanged and changeless love,

“And fresh affliction and keen penitence

“To abide the written hour when I should waft

“The doomed Destroyer and Deliverer here.

“Remember thou that thy success involves

“No single fate, no common misery.”

As thus she spake, the entrance of the cave

Darkened the boat below.

Around them from their nests,

The screaming sea-birds fled.

Wondering at that strange shape

Yet unalarmed at sight of living man,

Unknowing of his sway and power misused;

The clamours of their young

Echoed in shriller yells

That rung in wild discordance round the rock.

And farther as they now advanced

The dim reflection of the darkened day

Grew fainter, and the dash

Of the out-breakers deadened; farther yet

And yet more faint the gleam,

And there the waters at their utmost bound

Silently rippled on the rising rock.

They landed and advanced, and deeper in

Two adamantine doors

Closed up the cavern pass.

Reclining on the rock beside

Sate a grey-headed man

Watching an hour-glass by.

To him the Damsel spake,

“Is it the hour appointed?” the old man

Nor answered her awhile,

Nor lifted he his downward eye,

For now the glass ran low,

And like the days of age

With speed perceivable,

The latter sands descend:

And now the last are gone.

Then he looked up, and raised his arm, and smote

The adamantine gates.

The gates of adamant

Unfolding at the stroke

Opened and gave the entrance. Then She turned

To Thalaba and said

“Go in the name of God!

“I cannot enter,... I must wait the end

“In hope and agony.

“God and Mohammed prosper thee,

“For thy sake and for ours!”

He tarried not,... he past

The threshold, over which was no return.

All earthly thoughts, all human hopes

And passions now put off,

He cast no backward glance

Towards the gleam of day.

There was a light within,

A yellow light, as when the autumnal Sun

Through travelling rain and mist

Shines on the evening hills.

Whether from central fires effused,

Or if the sunbeams day by day,

From earliest generations, there absorbed,

Were gathering for the wrath-flame. Shade was

In those portentous vaults;

Crag overhanging, nor the column-rock

Cast its dark outline there.

For with the hot and heavy atmosphere

The light incorporate, permeating all,

Spread over all its equal yellowness.

There was no motion in the lifeless air,

He felt no stirring as he past

Adown the long descent,

He heard not his own footsteps on the rock

That thro’ the thick stagnation sent no sound.

How sweet it were, he thought,

To feel the flowing wind!

With what a thirst of joy

He should breathe in the open gales of heaven!

Downward and downward still, and still the way,

The long, long, way is safe.

Is there no secret wile

No lurking enemy?

His watchful eye is on the wall of rock,...

And warily he marks the roof

And warily surveyed

The path that lay before.

Downward and downward still, and still the way,

The long, long, way is safe;

Rock only, the same light,

The same dead atmosphere,

And solitude, and silence like the grave.

At length the long descent

Ends on a precipice;

No feeble ray entered its dreadful gulphs,

For in the pit profound

Black Darkness, utter Night,

Repelled the hostile gleam,

And o’er the surface the light atmosphere

Floated and mingled not.

Above the depth four overawning wings,

Unplumed and huge and strong,

Bore up a little car;

Four living pinions, headless, bodyless,

Sprung from one stem that branched below

In four down-arching limbs,

And clenched the car-rings endlong and aside

With claws of griffin grasp.

But not on these, the depths so terrible,

The wonderous wings, fixed Thalaba his eye,

For there upon the brink,

With fiery fetters fastened to the rock,

A man, a living man, tormented lay,

The young Othatha; in the arms of love,

He who had lingered out the auspicious hour

Forgetful of his call.

In shuddering pity Thalaba exclaimed

“Servant of God, can I not succour thee?”

He groaned and answered, “Son of Man,

“I sinned and am tormented; I endure

“In patience and in hope.

“The hour that shall destroy the Race of Hell,

“That hour shall set me free.”

“Is it not come?” quoth Thalaba,

“Yea! by this omen.” And with fearless hand

He grasped the burning fetters, “in the name

“Of God!” and from the rock

Rooted the rivets, and adown the gulph

Hurled them. The rush of flames roared up,

For they had kindled in their fall

The deadly vapours of the pit profound,

And Thalaba bent on and looked below.

But vainly he explored

The deep abyss of flame

That sunk beyond the plunge of mortal eye,

Now all ablaze as if infernal fires

Illumed the world beneath.

Soon was the poison-fuel spent,

The flame grew pale and dim,

And dimmer now it fades and now is quenched,

And all again is dark,

Save where the yellow air

Enters a little in and mingles slow.

Meantime the freed Othatha clasped his knees

And cried, “Deliverer!” struggling then

With joyful hope, “and where is she,” he cried,

“Whose promised coming for so many a year....”

“Go!” answered Thalaba,

“She waits thee at the gates.”

“And in thy triumph,” he replied,

“There thou wilt join us?” the Deliverer’s eye

Glanced on the abyss, way else was none....

The depth was unascendable.

“Await not me,” he cried,

“My path hath been appointed, go ... embark!

“Return to life,... live happy!”

OTHATHA.

But thy name,...

That thro’ the nations we may blazon it,

That we may bless thee.

THALABA.

Bless the Merciful!

Then Thalaba pronounced the name of God

And leapt into the car.

Down, down, it sunk,... down down....

He neither breathes nor sees;

His eyes are closed for giddiness

His breath is sinking with the fall.

The air that yields beneath the car

Inflates the wings above.

Down ... down ... a mighty depth!...

And was the Simorgh with the Powers of ill

Associate to destroy?

And was that lovely mariner

A fiend as false as fair?

For still he sinks down ... down....

But ever the uprushing wind

Inflates the wings above,

And still the struggling wings

Repel the rushing wind.

Down ... down ... and now it strikes.

He stands and totters giddily,

All objects round, awhile,

Float dizzy on his sight.

Collected soon he gazes for the way.

There was a distant light that led his search;

The torch a broader blaze,

The unpruned taper flames a longer flame,

But this was fierce as is the noon-tide sun,

So in the glory of its rays intense

It quivered with green glow.

Beyond was all unseen,

No eye could penetrate

That unendurable excess of light.

It veiled no friendly form, thought Thalaba,

And wisely did he deem,

For at the threshold of the rocky door,

Hugest and fiercest of his kind accurst,

Fit warden of the sorcery gate

A rebel Afreet lay.

He scented the approach of human food

And hungry hope kindled his eye of flame.

Raising his hand to save the dazzled sense

Onward held Thalaba,

And lifted still at times a rapid glance.

Till, the due distance gained,

With head abased, he laid

The arrow in its rest.

With steady effort and knit forehead then,

Full on the painful light

He fixed his aching eye, and loosed the bow.

An anguish yell ensued,

And sure no human voice had scope or power

For that prodigious shriek

Whose pealing echoes thundered up the rock.

Dim grew the dying light,

But Thalaba leapt onward to the doors

Now visible beyond,

And while the Afreet warden of the way

Was writhing with his death-pangs, over him

Sprung and smote the stony doors,

And bade them in the name of God give way.

The dying Fiend beneath him at that name

Tossed in worse agony,

And the rocks shuddered, and the rocky doors

Rent at the voice asunder. Lo ... within....

The Teraph and the fire,

And Khawla, and in mail complete

Mohareb for the strife.

But Thalaba with numbing force

Smites his raised arm, and rushes by,

For now he sees the fire amid whose flames

On the white ashes of Hodeirah lies

Hodeirah’s holy Sword.

He rushes to the fire,

Then Khawla met the youth

And leapt upon him, and with clinging arms

Clasps him, and calls Mohareb now to aim

The effectual vengeance. O fool! fool! he sees

His Father’s Sword, and who shall bar his way?

Who stand against the fury of that arm

That spurns her to the earth?

She rises half, she twists around his knees,

A moment ... and he vainly strives

To shake her from her hold,

Impatient then into her cursed breast

He stamps his crushing heel,

And from her body, heaving now in death

Springs forward to the Sword.

The co-existent flame

Knew the Destroyer; it encircled him,

Rolled up his robe and gathered round his head,

Condensing to intenser splendour there,

His crown of glory and his light of life

Hovered the irradiate wreath.

The moment Thalaba had laid his hand

Upon his Father’s Sword,

The Living Image in the inner cave

Smote the Round Altar. The Domdaniel rocked

Thro’ all its thundering vaults;

Over the surface of the reeling Earth

The alarum shock was felt:

The Sorcerer brood, all, all, where’er dispersed,

Perforce obeyed the summons; all, they came

Compelled by Hell and Heaven,

By Hell compelled to keep

Their baptism-covenant,

And with the union of their strength

Oppose the common danger; forced by Heaven

To share the common doom.

Vain are all spells! the Destroyer

Treads the Domdaniel floor.

They crowd with human arms and human force

To crush the single foe;

Vain is all human force!

He wields his Father’s Sword,

The vengeance of awakened Deity!

But chief on Thalaba Mohareb prest,

The language of the inspired Witch

Announced one fatal blow for both,

And desperate of self-safety, yet he hoped

To serve the cause of Eblis, and uphold

His empire true in death.

Who shall withstand his way?

Scattered before the sword of Thalaba

The sorcerer throng recede

And leave him space for combat. Wretched man

What shall the helmet or the shield avail

Against Almighty anger! wretched man,

Too late Mohareb finds that he has chosen

The evil part! he rears his shield

To meet the Arabian’s sword,...

Under the edge of that fire-hardened steel

The shield falls severed; his cold arm

Rings with the jarring blow,...

He lifts his scymetar,

A second stroke, and lo! the broken hilt

Hangs from his palsied hand!

And now he bleeds! and now he flies!

And fain would hide himself amid the throng,

But they feel the sword of Hodeirah,

But they also fly from the ruin!

And hasten to the inner cave,

And fall all fearfully

Around the Giant Idol’s feet,

Seeking salvation from the Power they served.

It was a Living Image, by the art

Of magic hands of flesh and bones composed,

And human blood thro’ veins and arteries

That flowed with vital action. In the shape

Of Eblis it was made,

Its stature such and such its strength

As when among the Sons of God

Pre-eminent, he raised his radiant head,

Prince of the Morning. On his brow

A coronet of meteor flames,

Flowing in points of light.

Self-poised in air before him,

Hung the Round Altar, rolling like the World

On its diurnal axis, like the World

Checquered with sea and shore,

The work of Demon art.

For where the sceptre in the Idol’s hand

Touched the Round Altar, in its answering realm

Earth felt the stroke, and Ocean rose in storms,

And ruining Cities shaken from their seat

Crushed all their habitants.

His other arm was raised, and its spread palm

Up-bore the ocean-weight

Whose naked waters arched the sanctuary,

Sole prop and pillar he.

Fallen on the ground around his feet

The Sorcerers lay. Mohareb’s quivering arms

Clung to the Idol’s knees;

The Idol’s face was pale

And calm in terror he beheld

The approach of the Destroyer.

Sure of his stroke, and therefore in pursuit

Following, nor blind, nor hasty on his foe,

Moved the Destroyer. Okba met his way,

Of all that brotherhood

He only fearless, miserable man,

The one that had no hope.

“On me, on me,” the childless Sorcerer cried,

“Let fall the weapon! I am he who stole

“Upon the midnight of thy Father’s tent,

“This is the hand that pierced Hodeirah’s heart,

“That felt thy brethren’s and thy sister’s blood

“Gush round the dagger-hilt. Let fall on me

“The fated sword! the vengeance hour is come!

“Destroyer, do thy work!”

Nor wile, nor weapon, had the desperate wretch,

He spread his bosom to the stroke.

“Old man, I strike thee not!” said Thalaba,

“The evil thou hast done to me and mine

“Brought its own bitter punishment.

“For thy dear Daughter’s sake I pardon thee,

“As I do hope Heaven’s pardon. For her sake

“Repent while time is yet! thou hast my prayers

“To aid thee; thou poor sinner, cast thyself

“Upon the goodness of offended God!

“I speak in Laila’s name, and what if now

“Thou canst not think to join in Paradise

“Her spotless Spirit,... hath not Allah made

“Al-Araf[176] in his wisdom? where the sight

“Of Heaven shall kindle in the penitent

“The strong and purifying fire of hope,

“Till at the day of judgement he shall see

“The Mercy-Gates unfold.”

The astonished man stood gazing as he spake,

At length his heart was softened, and the tears

Gushed, and he sobbed aloud.

Then suddenly was heard

The all-beholding Prophet’s aweful voice,

“Thou hast done well, my Servant!

“Ask and receive thy reward!”

A deep and aweful joy

Seemed to distend the heart of Thalaba;

With arms in reverence crost upon his breast,

Upseeking eyes suffused with transport-tears

He answered to the Voice, “Prophet of God,

“Holy, and good, and bountiful!

“One only earthly wish have I, to work

“Thy will, and thy protection grants me that.

“Look on this Sorcerer! heavy are his crimes,

“But infinite is mercy! if thy servant

“Have now found favour in the sight of God,

“Let him be touched with penitence, and save

“His soul from utter death.”

“The groans of penitence,” replied the Voice

“Never arise unheard!

“But for thyself prefer the prayer,

“The Treasure-house of Heaven

“Is open to thy will.”

“Prophet of God!” then answered Thalaba,

“I am alone on earth.

“Thou knowest the secret wishes of my heart!

“Do with me as thou wilt! thy will is best.”

There issued forth no Voice to answer him,

But lo! Hodeirah’s Spirit comes to see

His vengeance, and beside him, a pure form

Of roseate light, the Angel mother hangs.

“My Child, my dear, my glorious, blessed Child,

“My promise is performed ... fufil thy work!”

Thalaba knew that his death-hour was come,

And on he leapt, and springing up,

Into the Idol’s heart

Hilt-deep he drove the Sword.

The Ocean-Vault fell in, and all were crushed.

In the same moment at the gate

Of Paradise, Oneiza’s Houri-form

Welcomed her Husband to eternal bliss.