Which, surely they believed, as it had rolled Thus far uncheck'd, would roll victorious on, Till, like the Orient, the subjected West Should bow in reverence at Mahommed's name ; And pilgrims, from remotest Arctic shores, Tread with religious feet the burning sands Of Araby and Mecca's stony soil. Proud of his part in Roderick's overthrow, Their leader Abulcacem came, a man Immitigable, long in war renowned.
Here Magued comes, who on the conquered walls Of Cordoba by treacherous fear betrayed, Planted the moony standard: Ibrahim. here, He, who by Genil and in Darro's vales, Had for the Moors the fairest portion won Of all their spoils, fairest and best maintained, And to the Alpuxarras given in trust His other name, through them preserved in song. Here too Alcahman, vaunting his late deeds At Auria, all her children by the sword
Cut off, her bulwarks rased, her towers laid low, Her dwellings by devouring flames consumed. Bloody and hard of heart, he little weened,
Vain boastful chief! that from those fatal flames
The fire of retribution had gone forth
Which soon should wrap him round.
Here too were seen, Ebba and Sisibert;
A spurious brood, but of their parents' crimes True heirs in guilt begotten, and in ill
The same unnatural rage that turned
Their swords against their country, made them seek, Unmindful of their wretched mother's end,
Pelayo's life. No enmity is like
Domestic hatred! For his blood they thirst, As if that sacrifice might satisfy Witiza's guilty ghost, efface the shame
Of their adulterous birth, and, one crime more Crowning a hideous course, emancipate Thenceforth their spirits from all earthly fear. This was their only care; but other thoughts Were rankling in that elder villain's mind, Their kinsman Orpas, he of all the crew, Who in this fatal visitation fell,
The foulest and the falsest wretch that e'er
Renounced his baptism. From his cherished views
Of royalty cut off, he coveted
Count Julian's wide domains, and hopeless now To gain them through the daughter, laid his toils Against the father's life,.. the instrument
Of his ambition first, and now designed
Its victim. To this end with cautious hints, At favouring season ventured, he possessed The leader's mind; then, subtly fostering The doubts himself had sown, with bolder charge He bade him warily regard the Count,
Lest underneath an outward show of faith
The heart uncircumcised were Christian still : Else, wherefore had Florinda not obeyed
Her dear-loved sire's example, and embraced The saving truth? Else, wherefore was her hand, Plighted to him so long, so long withheld, Till she had found a fitting hour to fly
With that audacious Prince, who now in arms, Defied the Caliph's power; for who could doubt That in his company she fled, perhaps
The mover of his flight? What if the Count
Himself had planned the evasion which he feigned In sorrow to condemn? What if she went
A pledge assured, to tell the mountaineers
That when they met the Musslemen in the heat Of fight, her father passing to their side
Would draw the victory with him?... Thus he breathed Fiend-like in Abulcacem's ear his schemes
Of murderous malice; and the course of things, Ere long, in part approving his discourse, Aidëd his aim, and gave his wishes weight. For scarce on the Asturian territory
Had they set foot, when, with the speed of fear, Count Eudon, nothing doubting that their force Would like a flood sweep all resistance down, Hastened to plead his merits;.. .he alone, Found faithful in obedience through reproach And danger, when the maddened multitude Hurried their chiefs along, and high and low With one infectious frenzy seized, provoked The invincible in arms. Pelayo led
The raging crew,.. he doubtless the prime spring Of all these perilous movements; and 'twas said He brought the assurance of a strong support, Count Julian's aid, for in his company
From Cordoba, Count Julian's daughter came.
Thus Eudon spake before the assembled chiefs, When instantly a stern and wrathful voice Replied, I know Pelayo never made
That senseless promise! He who raised the tale Lies foully; but the bitterest enemy That ever hunted for Pelayo's life
Hath never with the charge of falsehood touched His name.
The Baron had not recognized
Till then, beneath the turban's shadowing folds, Julian's swart visage, where the fiery suns Of Africa, through many a year's long course, Had set their hue inburnt. Something he sought In quick excuse to say of common fame, Lightly believed and busily diffused, And that no enmity had moved his speech Repeating rumour's tale. Julian replied, Count Eudon, neither for thyself nor me Excuse is needed here. The path I tread Is one wherein there can be no return, No pause, no looking back! A choice like mine For time and for eternity is made,
Once and for ever! and as easily
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