"How first their strife to rancour grew, If Love or Envy made them foes, It matters little if I knew; In fiery spirits, slights, though few And thoughtless, will disturb repose. In war Abdallah's arm was strong, 700 Remembered yet in Bosniac song,[165] And Paswan's[166] rebel hordes attest How little love they bore such guest: His death is all I need relate, The stern effect of Giaffir's hate; And how my birth disclosed to me,[gk] Whate'er beside it makes, hath made me free. XIV. "When Paswan, after years of strife, At last for power, but first for life, In Widdin's walls too proudly sate, 710 Our Pachas rallied round the state; Not last nor least in high command, Each brother led a separate band; They gave their Horse-tails[167] to the wind, And mustering in Sophia's plain Their tents were pitched, their post assigned; To one, alas! assigned in vain! What need of words? the deadly bowl, By Giaffir's order drugged and given, With venom subtle as his soul,[gl] Dismissed Abdallah's hence to heaven. 720 Reclined and feverish in the bath, He, when the hunter's sport was up, But little deemed a brother's wrath To quench his thirst had such a cup: The bowl a bribed attendant bore; He drank one draught,[168] nor needed more! If thou my tale, Zuleika, doubt, Call Haroun--he can tell it out. XV. "The deed once done, and Paswan's feud 730 In part suppressed, though ne'er subdued, Abdallah's Pachalick was gained:-- Thou know'st not what in our Divan Can wealth procure for worse than man-- Abdallah's honours were obtained By him a brother's murder stained; 'Tis true, the purchase nearly drained His ill-got treasure, soon replaced. Would'st question whence? Survey the waste, And ask the squalid peasant how 740 His gains repay his broiling brow!-- Why me the stern Usurper spared, Why thus with me his palace spared, I know not. Shame--regret--remorse-- And little fear from infant's force-- Besides, adoption as a son By him whom Heaven accorded none, Or some unknown cabal, caprice, Preserved me thus:--but not in peace: He cannot curb his haughty mood,[gm] 750 Nor I forgive a father's blood. XVI.