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 strugg
ling 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 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!
Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 112