XX.

They stabbed them in the back, and sneered. A slave
Who stood behind the throne those corpses drew
Each to its bloody, dark, and secret grave;

And one more daring raised his steel anew
"What hast thou to do

To pierce the stranger.
With me, poor wretch?" Calm, solemn, and severe,
That voice unstrung his sinews, and he threw
His dagger on the ground, and, pale with fear,
Sate silently-his voice then did the stranger rear.

XXI.

"It doth avail not that I weep for ye

Ye cannot change, since ye are old and grey, And ye have chosen your lot-your fame must be A book of blood, whence in a milder day

Men shall learn truth, when ye are wrapped in clay : Now ye shall triumph. I am Laon's friend,

And him to your revenge will I betray,

So ye concede one easy boon. Attend!
For now I speak of things which ye can apprehend.

XXII.

"There is a people mighty in its youth,

A land beyond the oceans of the west,

Where, though with rudest rites, Freedom and Truth
Are worshiped. From a glorious mother's breast
(Who, since high Athens fell, among the rest
Sate like the Queen of Nations, but in woe,

By inbred monsters outraged and oppressed,
Turns to her chainless child for succour now)
It draws the milk of power in wisdom's fullest flow.

XXIII.

"That land is like an eagle whose young gaze

Feeds on the noontide beam, whose golden plume

Floats moveless on the storm, and in the blaze

Of sunrise gleams when earth is wrapped in gloom;
An epitaph of glory for the tomb

Of murdered Europe may thy fame be made,

Great people! As the sands shalt thou become; Thy growth is swift as morn when night must fade; The multitudinous earth shall sleep beneath thy shade.

XXIV.

"Yes, in the desert, then, is built a home
For Freedom! Genius is made strong to rear
The monuments of man beneath the dome

Of a new heaven; myriads assemble there
Whom the proud lords of man, in rage or fear,
Drive from their wasted homes. The boon I pray
Is this-Laone shall be convoyed there,-
Nay, start not at the name-America :

And then to you this night Laon will I betray.

XXV.

"With me do what ye will. I am your foe!" The light of such a joy as makes the stare Of hungry snakes like living emeralds glow

Shone in a hundred human eyes." Where, where

Is Laon? Haste! fly! drag him swiftly here!

We grant thy boon."-"I put no trust in ye;

Swear by the Power ye dread."—"We swear, we swear!" The stranger threw his vest back suddenly,

And smiled in gentle pride, and said, "Lo! I am he!"

CANTO XII.

I.

THE transport of a fierce and monstrous gladness
Spread through the multitudinous streets, fast flying
Upon the winds of fear. From his dull madness
The starveling waked, and died in joy; the dying,
Among the corpses in stark agony lying,

Just heard the happy tidings, and in hope

Closed their faint eyes; from house to house replying, With loud acclaim, the living shook heaven's cope, And filled the startled earth with echoes.

II.

Morn did ope

Its pale eyes then; and lo! the long array
Of guards in golden arms, and priests beside,
Singing their bloody hymns, whose garbs betray
The blackness of the faith they seem to hide; 1
And see the Tyrant's gem-wrought chariot glide
Among the gloomy cowls and glittering spears!

A shape of light is sitting by his side,

A child most beautiful. I' the midst appears Laon-exempt alone from mortal hopes and fears.

III.

I

His head and feet are bare, his hands are bound
Behind with heavy chains; yet none do wreak
Their scoffs on him, though myriads throng around.
There are no sneers upon his lip which speak
That scorn or hate has made him bold; his cheek
Resolve has not turned pale; his eyes are mild

And calm, and, like the morn about to break,
Smile on mankind; his heart seems reconciled
To all things and itself, like a reposing child.

IV.

Tumult was in the soul of all beside

Ill joy, or doubt, or fear; but those who saw Their tranquil victim pass felt wonder glide

Into their brain, and became calm with awe.—
See, the slow pageant near the pile doth draw.
A thousand torches in the spacious square,

Borne by the ready slaves of ruthless law,
Await the signal round: the morning fair
Is changed to a dim night by that unnatural glare.

V.

And see, beneath a sun-bright canopy,
Upon a platform level with the pile,
The anxious tyrant sit, enthroned on high,
Girt by the chieftains of the host! All smile
In expectation, but one child: the while
I, Laon, led by mutes, ascend my bier

Of fire, and look around. Each distant isle
Is dark in the bright dawn; towers far and near
Pierce like reposing flames the tremulous atmosphere.

VI.

There was such silence through the host as when
An earthquake, trampling on some populous town,
Has crushed ten-thousand with one tread, and men
Expect the second. All were mute but one,
That fairest child, who, bold with love, alone
Stood up before the king, without avail

Pleading for Laon's life-her stifled groan
Was heard-she trembled like one aspen pale
Among the gloomy pines of a Norwegian vale.

VII.

What were his thoughts, linked in the morning sun
Among those reptiles, stingless with delay,
Even like a tyrant's wrath ?-The signal-gun
Roared-hark, again! In that dread pause he lay
As in a quiet dream. The slaves obey-
A thousand torches drop,—and hark! the last
Bursts on that awful silence. Far away,

Millions, with hearts that beat both loud and fast, Watch for the springing flame expectant and aghast.

VIII.

They fly-the torches fall-a cry of fear

Has startled the triumphant !—they recede! For, ere the cannon's roar has died, they hear The tramp of hoofs like earthquake, and a steed, Dark and gigantic, with the tempest's speed Bursts through their ranks: a woman sits thereon, Fairer, it seems, than aught that earth can breed,Calm, radiant, like the phantom of the dawn, A spirit from the caves of daylight wandering gone.

IX.

All thought it was God's Angel come to sweep
The lingering guilty to their fiery grave;
The tyrant from his throne in dread did leap,-
Her innocence his child from fear did save.
Scared by the faith they feigned, each priestly slave
Knelt for his mercy whom they served with blood;
And, like the refluence of a mighty wave
Sucked into the loud sea, the multitude

With crushing panic fled in terror's altered mood.

X.

They pause, they blush, they gaze; a gathering shout Bursts, like one sound from the ten-thousand streams

Of a tempestuous sea. That sudden rout

One checked who never in his mildest dreams

Felt awe from grace or loveliness, the seams

Of his rent heart so hard and cold a creed

Had seared with blistering ice :—but he misdeems That he is wise whose wounds do only bleed

Inly for self; thus thought the Iberian Priest indeed ;

XI.

And others too thought he was wise to see

In pain and fear and hate something divine;
In love and beauty, no divinity.

Now with a bitter smile, whose light did shine
Like a fiend's hope upon his lips and eyne,
He said, and the persuasion of that sneer

Rallied his trembling comrades-"Is it mine
To stand alone, when kings and soldiers fear
A woman? Heaven has sent its other victim here."