And up she raised her bright blue eyes
And fiercely she smiled on him,
“I thank thee, I thank thee, Hodeirah’s Son!
“I thank thee for doing what can’t be undone,
“For binding thyself in the chain I have spun!”
Then from his head she wrenched
A lock of his raven hair,
And cast it in the fire
And cried aloud as it burnt,
“Sister! Sister! hear my voice!
“Sister! Sister! come and rejoice,
“The web is spun,
“The prize is won,
“The work is done,
“For I have made captive Hoderiah’s Son.”
Borne in her magic car
The Sister Sorceress came,
Khawla, the fiercest of the Sorcerer brood.
She gazed upon the youth,
She bade him break the slender thread,
She laughed aloud for scorn,
She clapt her hands for joy.
The She Bear from the chase came in,
She bore the prey in her bloody mouth,
She laid it at Maimuna’s feet,
And she looked up with wistful eyes
As if to ask her share.
“There! there!” quoth Maimuna
And pointing to the prisoner youth
She spurned him with her foot,
And bade her make her meal.
But soon their mockery failed them
And anger and shame arose,
For the She Bear fawned on Thalaba
And quietly licked his hand.
The grey haired Sorceress stamped the ground
And called a Spirit up,
“Shall we bear the Enemy
“To the dungeon dens below?”
SPIRIT.
Woe! woe! to our Empire woe!
If ever he tread the caverns below.
MAIMUNA.
Shall we leave him fettered here
With hunger and cold to die?
SPIRIT.
Away from thy lonely dwelling fly!
Here I see a danger nigh
That he should live and thou shouldst die.