"His head and faith from doubt and death 950 Returned in time my guard to save; Few heard, none told, that o'er the wave From isle to isle I roved the while: And since, though parted from my band Too seldom now I leave the land, No deed they've done, nor deed shall do, Ere I have heard and doomed it too: I form the plan--decree the spoil-- Tis fit I oftener share the toil. But now too long I've held thine ear; 960 Time presses--floats my bark--and here We leave behind but hate and fear. To-morrow Osman with his train Arrives--to-night must break thy chain: And would'st thou save that haughty Bey,-- Perchance _his_ life who gave thee thine,-- With me this hour away--away! But yet, though thou art plighted mine, Would'st thou recall thy willing vow, Appalled by truths imparted now, 970 Here rest I--not to see thee wed: But be that peril on _my_ head!" XXII. Zuleika, mute and motionless, Stood like that Statue of Distress, When, her last hope for ever gone, The Mother hardened into stone; All in the maid that eye could see Was but a younger Niobé. But ere her lip, or even her eye, Essayed to speak, or look reply, 980 Beneath the garden's wicket porch Far flashed on high a blazing torch! Another--and another--and another--[183] "Oh! fly--no more--yet now my more than brother!" Far, wide, through every thicket spread The fearful lights are gleaming red; Nor these alone--for each right hand Is ready with a sheathless brand. They part--pursue--return, and wheel With searching flambeau, shining steel; 990 And last of all, his sabre waving, Stern Giaffir in his fury raving: And now almost they touch the cave-- Oh! must that grot be Selim's grave? XXIII.