In tears Oneiza?...

ONEIZA.

Remember Destiny Hath marked thee from mankind!

THALABA.

Perhaps when Aloadin was destroyed The mission ceased, else would wise Providence With its rewards and blessings strew my path Thus for accomplished service?

ONEIZA.

Thalaba!

THALABA.

Or if haply not, yet whither should I go?

Is it not prudent to abide in peace Till I am summoned?

ONEIZA.

Take me to the Deserts!

THALABA.

But Moath is not there; and wouldest thou dwell In a Stranger's tent? thy father then might seek In long and fruitless wandering for his child.

ONEIZA.

Take me then to Mecca!

There let me dwell a servant of the Temple.

Bind thou thyself my veil,... to human eye It never shall be lifted. There, whilst thou Shalt go upon thine enterprize, my prayers, Dear Thalaba! shall rise to succour thee, And I shall live,... if not in happiness; Surely in hope.

THALABA.

Oh think of better things!

The will of Heaven is plain: by wonderous ways It led us here, and soon the common voice Shall tell what we have done, and how we dwell Under the shadow of the Sultan's wing, So shall thy father hear the fame, and find us What he hath wished us ever.... Still in tears!

Still that unwilling eye! nay ... nay.... Oneiza....

Has then another since I left the tent....

ONEIZA.

Thalaba! Thalaba!

With song, with music, and with dance The bridal pomp proceeds.

Following on the veiled Bride Fifty female slaves attend In costly robes that gleam With interwoven gold, And sparkle far with gems.

An hundred slaves behind them bear Vessels of silver and vessels of gold And many a gorgeous garment gay The presents that the Sultan gave.

On either hand the pages go With torches flaring thro' the gloom, And trump and timbrel merriment Accompanies their way; And mult.i.tudes with loud acclaim Shout blessings on the Bride.

And now they reach the palace pile, The palace home of Thalaba, And now the marriage feast is spread And from the finished banquet now The wedding guests are gone.

Who comes from the bridal chamber?

It is Azrael, the Angel of Death.

THE EIGHTH BOOK.

_THALABA THE DESTROYER._

_THE EIGHTH BOOK._

WOMAN.

Go not among the Tombs, Old Man!

There is a madman there.

OLD MAN.

Will he harm me if I go?

WOMAN.

Not he, poor miserable man!

But 'tis a wretched sight to see His utter wretchedness.

For all day long he lies on a grave, And never is he seen to weep, And never is he heard to groan.

Nor ever at the hour of prayer Bends his knee, nor moves his lips.

I have taken him food for charity And never a word he spake, But yet so ghastly he looked That I have awakened at night With the dream of his ghastly eyes.

Now go not among the Tombs, Old Man!

OLD MAN.

Wherefore has the wrath of G.o.d So sorely stricken him?

WOMAN.

He came a Stranger to the land, And did good service to the Sultan, And well his service was rewarded.

The Sultan named him next himself, And gave a palace for his dwelling, And dowered his bride with rich domains.

But on his wedding night There came the Angel of Death.

Since that hour a man distracted Among the sepulchres he wanders.

The Sultan when he heard the tale Said that for some untold crime Judgement thus had stricken him, And asking Heaven forgiveness That he had shewn him favour, Abandoned him to want.

OLD MAN.

A Stranger did you say?