But turn'd his sparkling eyes behind, and saw 103 His knights and squires with zeal as fierce inflamed, And out he spoke,--"The hospitable law We will not trench, whate'er the guest hath claim'd Let the host yield! forgive, that, hotly stirr'd, His course I question'd; I retract the word. "If on your hearth he stands, protect; within 104 Your realm if wandering, guard him as you may; This hearth not ours, nor this our realm;--no sin To chase our foeman, whatsoe'er his way: Up spear--forth sword! to selle each Saxon man-- Unleash the warhounds--stay us those who can!" Loud rang the armed tumult in the hall; 105 Rush'd to the doors the Saxon's fiery band; Yell'd the gaunt bloodhounds loosen'd from the thrall; Steeds neigh'd; leapt forth the falchion to the hand; Low on the earth the bloodhounds track'd the scent, And where they guided there the hunters went. Amazed the Vandal with his friend debates 106 What course were best in such extremes to choose; Nicely they weigh;--the Saxons pass the gates: Finely refine;--the chase its prey pursues. And while the chase pursues, to him, whose way The dove directs, well pleased, returns the lay. Twilight was on the earth, when paused the King 107 Lone by the beach of far-resounding seas; Rock upon rock, behind, a Titan ring, Closed round a gorge o'erhung with breathless trees, A horror of still umbrage; and, before, Wave-hollow'd caves arch'd, ruinous, the shore. Column and vault, and seaweed-dripping domes, 108 Long vistas opening through the streets of dark, Seem'd like a city's skeleton; the homes Of giant races vanish'd since the ark Rested on Ararat: from side to side Moan the lock'd waves that ebb not with the tide. Here, path forbid; where, length'ning up the land, 109 The deep gorge stretches to a night of pine, Veer the white wings; and there the slacken'd hand Guides the tired steed; deeplier the shades decline; Dull'd with each step into the darker gloom Follows the ocean's hollow-sounding boom. Sudden starts back the steed, with bristling mane 110 And nostrils snorting fear; from out the shade Loom the vast columns of a roofless fane, Meet for some god whom savage man hath made: A mighty pine-torch on the altar glow'd And lit the goddess of the grim abode-- So that the lurid idol, from its throne, 111 Glared on the wanderer with a stony eye; The King breathed quick the Christian orison, Spurr'd the scared barb, and pass'd abhorrent by-- Nor mark'd a figure on the floor reclined: It watch'd, it rose, it crept, it dogg'd behind.