27.
At last the tyrant cried, ‘She hungers, slave!
Stab her, or give her bread!’—It was a tone _1955
Such as sick fancies in a new-made grave
Might hear. I trembled, for the truth was known;
He with this child had thus been left alone,
And neither had gone forth for food,—but he
In mingled pride and awe cowered near his throne, _1960
And she a nursling of captivity
Knew nought beyond those walls, nor what such change might be.
28.
And he was troubled at a charm withdrawn
Thus suddenly; that sceptres ruled no more—
That even from gold the dreadful strength was gone, _1965
Which once made all things subject to its power—
Such wonder seized him, as if hour by hour
The past had come again; and the swift fall
Of one so great and terrible of yore,
To desolateness, in the hearts of all _1970
Like wonder stirred, who saw such awful change befall.
29.
A mighty crowd, such as the wide land pours
Once in a thousand years, now gathered round
The fallen tyrant;—like the rush of showers
Of hail in spring, pattering along the ground, _1975
Their many footsteps fell, else came no sound
From the wide multitude: that lonely man
Then knew the burden of his change, and found,
Concealing in the dust his visage wan,
Refuge from the keen looks which through his bosom ran. _1980
30.
And he was faint withal: I sate beside him
Upon the earth, and took that child so fair
From his weak arms, that ill might none betide him
Or her;—when food was brought to them, her share
To his averted lips the child did bear, _1985
But, when she saw he had enough, she ate
And wept the while;—the lonely man’s despair
Hunger then overcame, and of his state
Forgetful, on the dust as in a trance he sate.
31.
Slowly the silence of the multitudes _1990
Passed, as when far is heard in some lone dell
The gathering of a wind among the woods—
‘And he is fallen!’ they cry, ‘he who did dwell
Like famine or the plague, or aught more fell
Among our homes, is fallen! the murderer _1995
Who slaked his thirsting soul as from a well
Of blood and tears with ruin! he is here!
Sunk in a gulf of scorn from which none may him rear!’
32.
Then was heard—‘He who judged let him be brought
To judgement! blood for blood cries from the soil _2000
On which his crimes have deep pollution wrought!
Shall Othman only unavenged despoil?
Shall they who by the stress of grinding toil
Wrest from the unwilling earth his luxuries,
Perish for crime, while his foul blood may boil, _2005
Or creep within his veins at will?—Arise!
And to high justice make her chosen sacrifice!’
33.
‘What do ye seek? what fear ye,’ then I cried,
Suddenly starting forth, ‘that ye should shed
The blood of Othman?—if your hearts are tried _2010
In the true love of freedom, cease to dread
This one poor lonely man—beneath Heaven spread
In purest light above us all, through earth—
Maternal earth, who doth her sweet smiles shed
For all, let him go free; until the worth _2015
Of human nature win from these a second birth.
34.
‘What call ye “justice”? Is there one who ne’er
In secret thought has wished another’s ill?—
Are ye all pure? Let those stand forth who hear
And tremble not. Shall they insult and kill, _2020
If such they be? their mild eyes can they fill
With the false anger of the hypocrite?
Alas, such were not pure!—the chastened will
Of virtue sees that justice is the light
Of love, and not revenge, and terror and despite.’ _2025
35.
The murmur of the people, slowly dying,
Paused as I spake, then those who near me were,
Cast gentle looks where the lone man was lying
Shrouding his head, which now that infant fair
Clasped on her lap in silence;—through the air _2030
Sobs were then heard, and many kissed my feet
In pity’s madness, and to the despair
Of him whom late they cursed, a solace sweet
His very victims brought—soft looks and speeches meet.
36.
Then to a home for his repose assigned, _2035
Accompanied by the still throng, he went
In silence, where, to soothe his rankling mind,
Some likeness of his ancient state was lent;
And if his heart could have been innocent
As those who pardoned him, he might have ended _2040
His days in peace; but his straight lips were bent,
Men said, into a smile which guile portended,
A sight with which that child like hope with fear was blended.