ABSTRACT
DEMON. Mistress of the mighty Spell, Not on Ocean, not on Earth. Only eyes that view 150 Allah’s glory throne, See his hiding-place. b From some believing Spirit, ask and learn. ‘Bring the dead Hodeirah here,’ Khawla cried, ‘and he shall tell.’ 155 The Demon heard her bidding, and was gone. A moment passed, and at her feet Hodeirah’s corpse was laid. His hand still held the sword he grasped in death, The blood not yet had clotted on his wound. 160 The Sorceress looked and with a smile That kindled to more fiendishness Her hideous features, cried, ‘Where Hodeirah is thy soul? 31Is it in the Zemzem well? a 165 Is it in the Eden groves? Waits it for the judgement-blast In the trump of Israfil? Is it plumed with silver wings Underneath the throne of God? 170 Even if b beneath his throne Hodeirah, thou shalt hear, Thou shalt obey my voice!' She said, and muttered charms that c Hell in fear And Heaven in horror heard. 175 Soon the stiff eye-balls rolled, The muscles with convulsive motion shook, The white lips quivered. Khawla saw, her soul Exulted, and she cried, ‘Prophet! behold my power! 180 Not even death secures Thy slaves from Khawla’s Spell! Where Hodeirah is thy child?’ Hodeirah groaned and closed his eyes, As if in the night and the blindness of death 185 He would have hid himself. ‘Speak to my question!’ she exclaimed, d ‘Or in that mangled body thou shalt live Ages of torture! answer me! e Where can we find the Boy?’ 190 ‘God! God!’ Hodeirah cried, ‘Release f me from this life, From this intolerable agony!’ ‘Speak!’ cried the Sorceress; and she snatched A Viper g from the floor, 195 And with the living reptile lashed his neck. Wreathed round him with the blow, 32The Reptile tighter drew her a folds b And raised her c wrathful head, And fixed into his face 200 Her deadly d teeth, and shed e Poison in every wound. In vain! for Allah heard Hodeirah’s prayer, And Khawla on a corpse Had wrecked f her baffled rage. 205 The fated fire moved on And round the Body wrapt its funeral flames. The flesh and bones in that portentous pile Consumed; the Sword alone, Circled with fire was left. g 210 Where is the Boy h for whose hand it is destined? Where the Destroyer who one day shall wield The Sword that is circled with fire? Race accursed, try your charms! Masters of the mighty Spell, 215 Mutter o’er your words of power! Ye can shatter the dwellings of man, Ye can open the womb of the rock, Ye can shake the foundations of earth, But not the Word of God: 220 But not one letter can ye change Of what his Will hath written! Who shall seek thro’ Araby Hodeirah’s dreaded son? They mingle the Arrows of Chance 225 The lot of Abdaldar is drawn. Thirteen moons must wax and wane Ere the Sorcerer quit his quest. i He must visit every tribe That roam the desert wilderness, 230 Or dwell beside perennial streams; Nor leave a solitary tent unsearched 33Till he has found the Boy, The hated Boy whose blood alone a Can quench that dreaded fire. 235 A crystal ring Abdaldar bore, b The powerful gem condensed Primeval dews that upon Caucasus Felt the first winter’s frost. Ripening there it lay beneath 240 Rock above rock, and mountain ice up-piled On mountain, till the incumbent c mass assumed, So huge its bulk, the Ocean’s azure hue. With this he sought the inner den Where burnt the eternal flame. d 245 Like waters gushing from some channelled rock Full thro’ a narrow opening, from a chasm The eternal flame e streamed up. No eye beheld the fount Of that up-flowing flame, 250 That f blazed self-nurtured, and for ever, there. It was no mortal element: the Abyss Supplied it, from the fountains at the first Prepared. In the heart of earth it lives and glows. Her vital heat, till at the day decreed, 255 The voice of God shall let its billows loose, To deluge o’er with no abating flood The g consummated World; That thenceforth thro’ the air must roll, The h penal Orb of Fire. i 260 Unturbaned and unsandalled there, Abdaldar stood before the flame, And held the Ring beside, and spake The language that the Elements obey. The obedient flame detached a portion forth, 265 34That, a in the crystal entering, was condensed, Gem of the gem, its living Eye of fire. When the hand that wears the spell Shall touch the destined Boy, Then shall that Eye be quenched, 270 And the freed Element Fly to its sacred and remembered Spring. Now go thy way Abdaldar! Servant of Eblis, Over Arabia 275 Seek the Destroyer! Over the sands of the scorching Tehama Over the waterless mountains of Naïd, b In Arud pursue him; and Yemen the happy, And Hejaz, the country beloved by believers 280 Over Arabia Servant of Eblis, Seek the Destroyer. From tribe to tribe, from town to town, From tent to tent, Abdaldar past. 285 Him every morn the all-beholding Eye Saw from his couch, unhallowed by a prayer, Rise to the scent of blood, And every night lie down. That rankling hope within him, that by day 290 Goaded his steps, still stinging him in sleep, And startling him with vain accomplishment From visions still the same. Many a time his wary hand To many a youth applied the Ring, 295 And still the dagger in his mantle hid Was ready for the deed. c At length to the cords of a tent That were d stretched by an Island of Palms In the desolate sea of the sands, 300 The weary e traveller came. Under a shapely palm, 35Herself as shapely, there a Damsel stood. She held her ready robe a And looked towards a Boy, b 305 Who from the tree above With one hand clinging to its trunk, Cast with the other down the clustered dates. The Wizard c approached the Tree, d He leaned e on his staff, like a wayfaring man, 310 And the sweat of his travel was seen on his brow. He asks f for food, and lo! The Damsel g proffers him h her lap of dates. And the Stripling descends, and runs into i the tent And brings him forth water, the draught of delight. 315 Anon the Master of the tent, The Father of the family Came forth, a man in years, of aspect mild. To the stranger approaching he gave The friendly saluting of peace, 320 And bade the skin be spread. Before the tent they spread the skin, Under a Tamarind’s shade, That bending forward, stretched Its boughs of beauty far. 325 They brought the Traveller rice, With no false colours tinged to tempt the eye, But white as the new-fallen snow, When never yet the sullying Sun Hath seen its purity, 330 Nor the warm Zephyr touched and tainted it. j The dates of the grove before their guest They laid, and the luscious fig, And water from the well. The Damsel from the Tamarind tree 335 36Had plucked its acid fruit And steeped it in water long; And whoso drank of the cooling draught He would not wish for wine. This to the guest the Damsel brought, 340 And a modest pleasure kindled her cheek, When raising from the cup his moistened lips The Stranger smiled, and praised, and drank again. a Whither is gone the Boy? He had pierced the Melon’s pulp 345 And closed with wax the wound, And he had duly gone at morn And watched its ripening rind, And now all joyfully he brings The treasure now matured. 350 His dark eyes sparkle with a boy’s delight, As he pours out its liquid lusciousness And proffers to the guest. b Abdaldar ate, and he was satisfied: And now his tongue discoursed 355 Of regions far remote, As one whose busy feet had travelled long. The Father of the family, With a calm eye and quiet smile, Sate pleased to hearken him. c 360 The Damsel who removed the meal, She loitered on the way And listened with full hands d A moment motionless. All eagerly the Boy 365 Watches the Traveller’s lips, And still the wily man With seemly kindness to the eager Boy Directs his winning tale. Ah, cursed man! e if this be he, 370 If thou hast found the object of thy search, 37Thy hate, thy bloody aim, Into what deep damnation wilt thou plunge Thy miserable soul! Look! how his eye delighted watches thine! 375 Look! how his open lips Gasp at the winning tale! And nearer now he comes To lose no word of that delightful talk. Then, as in familiar mood, 380 Upon the Stripling’s arm The Sorcerer laid his hand, And the fire of the Crystal fled. a Whilst the sudden shoot of joy Made pale Abdaldar’s cheek, 385 The Master’s voice was heard: ‘It is the hour of prayer, My children, let us purify ourselves And praise the Lord our God!’ The Boy the water brought, 390 After the law they purified themselves, And bent their faces to the earth in prayer. All, save Abdaldar; over Thalaba He stands, and lifts the dagger to destroy. Before his lifted arm received 395 Its impulse to descend, The Blast of the Desert came. Prostrate in prayer, the pious family Felt not the Simoom pass. They rose, and lo! the Sorcerer lying dead, 400 Holding the dagger in his blasted hand. b
