Canto Twelfth.

i.

The transport of a fierce and monstrous gladness
Spread thro' the multitudinous streets, fast flying
Upon the winds of fear; from his dull madness
The starveling waked, and died in joy; the dying,
Among the corpses in stark agony lying,

Just heard the happy tidings, and in hope

Closed their faint eyes; from house to house replying With loud acclaim, the living shook Heaven's cope, And filled the startled Earth with echoes: morn did ope

II.

Its pale eyes then; and lo! the long array
Of guards in golden arms, and Priests1 beside,
Singing their bloody hymns, whose garbs betray
The blackness of the faith it seems to hide ;

1 In this place Priests is spelt with a small p in Shelley's edition.

2 Mr. Rossetti alters it seems to they seem. I think however that Shelley, had he chosen to change the passage at all would have been much more likely to make it read

and lo! the long arrays

Of guards in golden arms, and priests beside, Singing their bloody hymns, whose garb betrays

The blackness of the faith, &c.

thus getting rid of the somewhat awkward plural, garbs; but where we can but guess, the text should remain as it is.

And see, the Tyrant's gem-wrought chariot glide Among the gloomy cowls and glittering spears— A Shape of light is sitting by his side,

A child most beautiful. I'the midst appears Laon, exempt alone from mortal hopes and fears.

III.

His head and feet are bare, his hands are bound Behind with heavy chains, yet none do wreak Their scoffs on him, tho' myriads throng around; There are no sneers upon his lip which speak That scorn or hate has made him bold; his cheek Resolve has not turned pale,-his eyes are mild And calm, and like the morn about to break, Smile on mankind-his heart seems reconciled To all things and itself, like a reposing child.

IV.

Tumult was in the soul of all beside,

Ill joy, or doubt, or fear; but those who saw Their tranquil victim pass, felt wonder glide Into their brain, and became calm with awe.See, the slow pageant near the pile doth draw. A thousand torches in the spacious square, Borne by the ready slaves of ruthless law, Await the signal round: the morning fair Is changed to a dim night by that unnatural glare.

V.

And see beneath a sun-bright canopy,
Upon a platform level with the pile,

The anxious Tyrant sit, enthroned on high,
Girt by the chieftains of the host; all smile
In expectation, but one child: the while
I, Laon, led by mutes, ascend my bier

Of fire, and look around; each distant isle

Is dark in the bright dawn; towers far and near, Pierce like reposing flames the tremulous atmosphere.

VI.

There was such silence through the host, as when
An earthquake trampling on some populous town,
Has crushed ten thousand with one tread, and men
Expect the second; all were mute but one,
That fairest child, who, bold with love, alone
Stood up before the King, without avail,
Pleading for Laon's life-her stifled groan
Was heard-she trembled like one1 aspen pale
Among the gloomy pines of a Norwegian vale.

VII.

What were his thoughts linked in the morning sun,
Among those reptiles, stingless with delay,
Even like a tyrant's wrath ?-the signal gun
Roared-hark, again! in that dread pause he lay
As in a quiet dream-the slaves obey-
A thousand torches drop,-and hark, the last
Bursts on that awful silence; far away

Millions, with hearts that beat both loud and fast,
Watch for the springing flame expectant and aghast.

VIII.

They fly-the torches fall-a cry of fear
Has startled the triumphant! they recede!
For ere the cannon's roar has died, they hear
The tramp of hoofs like earthquake, and a steed
Dark and gigantic, with the tempest's speed,
Bursts thro' their ranks: a woman sits thereon,

1 An is substituted for one in Mrs. Shelley's and Mr. Rossetti's editions, - much to the detriment of the figure's

force. In Shelley's edition aspen is spelt aspin; but I do not imagine that this orthography was deliberate.

Fairer it seems than aught that earth can breed,
Calm, radiant, like the phantom of the dawn,
A spirit from the caves of day-light wandering gone.

IX.

All thought it was God's Angel come to sweep
The lingering guilty to their fiery grave;

The Tyrant1 from his throne in dread did leap,—
Her innocence his child from fear did save;

Scared by the faith they feigned, each priestly slave
Knelt for his mercy whom they served with blood,
And, like the refluence of a mighty wave

Sucked into the loud sea, the multitude

With crushing panic, fled in terror's altered mood.

X.

They pause, they blush, they gaze, a gathering shout
Bursts like one sound from the ten thousand streams
Of a tempestuous sea:-that sudden rout

One checked, who, never in his mildest dreams
Felt awe from grace or loveliness, the seams

Of his rent heart so hard and cold a creed
Had seared with blistering ice-but he misdeems
That he is wise, whose wounds do only bleed
Inly for self, thus thought that Christian Priest1 indeed,

XI.

And others too, thought he was wise to see,
In pain, and fear, and hate, something divine;2
In love and beauty-no divinity.-

Now with a bitter smile, whose light did shine
Like a fiend's hope upon his lips and eyne,
He said, and the persuasion of that sneer

1 Tyrant with a small t in The Revolt of Islam.

In The Revolt of Islam we have

again the Iberian Priest.

3 The semi-colon is supplied by Mrs. Shelley.

Rallied his trembling comrades-"Is it mine
To stand alone, when kings and soldiers fear
A woman? God has sent his other victim1 here."

XII.

"Were it not impious," said the King, "to break
Our holy oath?"-" Impious to keep it, say!"
Shrieked the exulting Priest-"Slaves, to the stake
Bind her, and on my head the burthen lay
Of her just torments:-at the Judgment Day
Will I stand up before God's golden throne,
And cry, O Lord, to thee did I betray

An Atheist; but for me she would have known
Another moment's joy! the glory be thine own."

XIII.

They trembled, but replied not, nor obeyed, Pausing in breathless silence. Cythna sprung From her gigantic steed, who, like a shade Chased by the winds, those vacant streets among Fled tameless, as the brazen rein she flung Upon his neck, and kissed his moonèd brow. A piteous sight, that one so fair and young, The clasp of such a fearful death should woo With smiles of tender joy as beamed from Cythna now.

XIV.

The warm tears burst in spite of faith and fear,
From many a tremulous eye, but like soft dews
Which feed spring's earliest buds, hung gathered there,

1 Heaven has sent its other victim in The Revolt of Islam.

2 In The Revolt of Islam this passage is altered to

Will I stand up before the golden throne

U

Of Heaven, and cry, to thee did I betray
An Infidel;

and Mrs. Shelley makes the further
change of substituting I did for did I

in line 7.