7. Within the temple, on his golden throne {79} Reclin'd, Kehama lies, Watching with steady eyes The perfum'd light that, burning bright, Metes out the passing hours. On either hand his eunuchs stand, Freshening with fans of peacock-plumes the air, Which, redolent of all rich gums and flowers, Seems, overcharged with sweets, to stagnate there. Lo! the time-taper's flame ascending slow Creeps up its coil toward the fated line; Kehama rises and goes forth, And from the altar, ready where it lies, He takes the axe of sacrifice. 8. That, instant from the crowd, with sudden shout, A man sprang out To lay upon the Steed his hand profane. A thousand archers, with unerring eye, At once let fly, And with their hurtling arrows fill the sky. In vain they fall upon him fast as rain; He bears a charmed life, which may defy All weapons, . . . and the darts that whizz around, {80} As from an adamantine panoply Repell'd, fall idly to the ground. Kehama clasp'd his hands in agony, And saw him grasp the hallowed courser's mane, Spring up with sudden bound, And with a frantic cry, And madman's gesture, gallop round and round. 9. They seize, they drag him to the Rajah's feet. What doom will now be his, . . what vengeance meet Will he, who knows no mercy, now require? The obsequious guards around, with blood-hound eye, Look for the word, in slow-consuming fire, By piece-meal death, to make the wretch expire, Or hoist his living carcase, hook'd on high, To feed the fowls and insects of the sky; Or if aught worse inventive cruelty To that remorseless heart of royalty Might prompt, accursed instruments they stand To work the wicked will with wicked hand. Far other thoughts were in the multitude; Pity, and human feelings, held them still; And stifled sighs and groans supprest were there, {81} And many a secret curse and inward prayer Call'd on the insulted Gods to save mankind. Expecting some new crime in fear they stood, Some horror which would make the natural blood Start, with cold shudderings thrill the sinking heart, Whiten the lip, and make the abhorrent eye Roll back and close, prest in for agony. 10. How then fared he for whom the mighty crowd Suffered in spirit thus, . . . how then fared he? A ghastly smile was on his lip, his eye Glared with a ghastly hope, as he drew nigh, And cried aloud, Yes, Rajah! it is I! And wilt thou kill me now? The countenance of the Almighty Man Fell when he knew Ladurlad, and his brow Was clouded with despite, as one ashamed. That wretch again! indignant he exclaim'd, And smote his forehead, and stood silently Awhile in wrath: then, with ferocious smile, And eyes which seem'd to darken his dark cheek, Let him go free! he cried; he hath his Curse, And Vengeance upon him can wreak no worse . . . {82} But ye who did not seize him . . . tremble ye!