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The Revolt of Islam

By Percy Bysshe Shelley

Canto Third

     WHAT thoughts had sway o'er Cythna's lonely slumber
     That night, I know not; but my own did seem
     As if they might ten thousand years outnumber
     Of waking life, the visions of a dream
     Which hid in one dim gulf the troubled stream
     Of mind; a boundless chaos wild and vast,
     Whose limits yet were never memory's theme;
     And I lay struggling as its whirlwinds passed,
   Sometimes for rapture sick, sometimes for pain aghast.

     Two hours, whose mighty circle did embrace
     More time than might make gray the infant world,
     Rolled thus, a weary and tumultuous space;
     When the third came, like mist on breezes curled,
     From my dim sleep a shadow was unfurled;
     Methought, upon the threshold of a cave
     I sate with Cythna; drooping briony, pearled
     With dew from the wild streamlet's shattered wave,
   Hung, where we sate to taste the joys which Nature gave.

     We lived a day as we were wont to live,
     But Nature had a robe of glory on,
     And the bright air o'er every shape did weave
     Intenser hues, so that the herbless stone,
     The leafless bough among the leaves alone,
     Had being clearer than its own could be;
     And Cythna's pure and radiant self was shown,
     In this strange vision, so divine to me,
   That if I loved before, now love was agony.

     Morn fled, noon came, evening, then night, descended,
     And we prolonged calm talk beneath the sphere
     Of the calm moon--when suddenly was blended
     With our repose a nameless sense of fear;
     And from the cave behind I seemed to hear
     Sounds gathering upwards--accents incomplete,
     And stifled shrieks,--and now, more near and near,
     A tumult and a rush of thronging feet
   The cavern's secret depths beneath the earth did beat.

     The scene was changed, and away, away, away!
     Through the air and over the sea we sped,
     And Cythna in my sheltering bosom lay,
     And the winds bore me; through the darkness spread
     Around, the gaping earth then vomited
     Legions of foul and ghastly shapes, which hung
     Upon my flight; and ever as we fled
     They plucked at Cythna; soon to me then clung
   A sense of actual things those monstrous dreams among.

     And I lay struggling in the impotence
     Of sleep, while outward life had burst its bound,
     Though, still deluded, strove the tortured sense
     To its dire wanderings to adapt the sound
     Which in the light of morn was poured around
     Our dwelling; breathless, pale and unaware
     I rose, and all the cottage crowded found
     With armèd men, whose glittering swords were bare,
   And whose degraded limbs the Tyrant's garb did wear.

     And ere with rapid lips and gathered brow
     I could demand the cause, a feeble shriek--
     It was a feeble shriek, faint, far and low--
     Arrested me; my mien grew calm and meek,
     And grasping a small knife I went to seek
     That voice among the crowd--'t was Cythna's cry!
     Beneath most calm resolve did agony wreak
     Its whirlwind rage:--so I passed quietly
   Till I beheld where bound that dearest child did lie.

     I started to behold her, for delight
     And exultation, and a joyance free,
     Solemn, serene and lofty, filled the light
     Of the calm smile with which she looked on me;
     So that I feared some brainless ecstasy,
     Wrought from that bitter woe, had wildered her.
     'Farewell! farewell!' she said, as I drew nigh;
     'At first my peace was marred by this strange stir,
   Now I am calm as truth--its chosen minister.

     'Look not so, Laon--say farewell in hope;
     These bloody men are but the slaves who bear
     Their mistress to her task; it was my scope
     The slavery where they drag me now to share,
     And among captives willing chains to wear
     Awhile--the rest thou knowest. Return, dear friend!
     Let our first triumph trample the despair
     Which would ensnare us now, for, in the end,
   In victory or in death our hopes and fears must blend.'

     These words had fallen on my unheeding ear,
     Whilst I had watched the motions of the crew
     With seeming careless glance; not many were
     Around her, for their comrades just withdrew
     To guard some other victim; so I drew
     My knife, and with one impulse, suddenly,
     All unaware three of their number slew,
     And grasped a fourth by the throat, and with loud cry
   My countrymen invoked to death or liberty.

     What followed then I know not, for a stroke,
     On my raised arm and naked head came down,
     Filling my eyes with blood.--When I awoke,
     I felt that they had bound me in my swoon,
     And up a rock which overhangs the town
     By the steep path were bearing me; below
     The plain was filled with slaughter,--overthrown
     The vineyards and the harvests, and the glow
   Of blazing roofs shone far o'er the white Ocean's flow.

     Upon that rock a mighty column stood,
     Whose capital seemed sculptured in the sky,
     Which to the wanderers o'er the solitude
     Of distant seas, from ages long gone by,
     Had made a landmark; o'er its height to fly
     Scarcely the cloud, the vulture or the blast
     Has power, and when the shades of evening lie
     On Earth and Ocean, its carved summits cast
   The sunken daylight far through the aërial waste.

     They bore me to a cavern in the hill
     Beneath that column, and unbound me there;
     And one did strip me stark; and one did fill
     A vessel from the putrid pool; one bare
     A lighted torch, and four with friendless care
     Guided my steps the cavern-paths along;
     Then up a steep and dark and narrow stair
     We wound, until the torch's fiery tongue
   Amid the gushing day beamless and pallid hung.

     They raised me to the platform of the pile,
     That column's dizzy height; the grate of brass,
     Through which they thrust me, open stood the while,
     As to its ponderous and suspended mass,
     With chains which eat into the flesh, alas!
     With brazen links, my naked limbs they bound;
     The grate, as they departed to repass,
     With horrid clangor fell, and the far sound
   Of their retiring steps in the dense gloom was drowned.

     The noon was calm and bright:--around that column
     The overhanging sky and circling sea,
     Spread forth in silentness profound and solemn,
     The darkness of brief frenzy cast on me,
     So that I knew not my own misery;
     The islands and the mountains in the day
     Like clouds reposed afar; and I could see
     The town among the woods below that lay,
   And the dark rocks which bound the bright and glassy bay.

     It was so calm, that scarce the feathery weed
     Sown by some eagle on the topmost stone
     Swayed in the air:--so bright, that noon did breed
     No shadow in the sky beside mine own--
     Mine, and the shadow of my chain alone.
     Below, the smoke of roofs involved in flame
     Rested like night; all else was clearly shown
     In that broad glare; yet sound to me none came,
   But of the living blood that ran within my frame.

     The peace of madness fled, and ah, too soon!
     A ship was lying on the sunny main;
     Its sails were flagging in the breathless noon;
     Its shadow lay beyond. That sight again
     Waked with its presence in my trancèd brain
     The stings of a known sorrow, keen and cold;
     I knew that ship bore Cythna o'er the plain
     Of waters, to her blighting slavery sold,
   And watched it with such thoughts as must remain untold.

     I watched until the shades of evening wrapped
     Earth like an exhalation; then the bark
     Moved, for that calm was by the sunset snapped.
     It moved a speck upon the Ocean dark;
     Soon the wan stars came forth, and I could mark
     Its path no more! I sought to close mine eyes,
     But, like the balls, their lids were stiff and stark;
     I would have risen, but ere that I could rise
   My parchèd skin was split with piercing agonies.

     I gnawed my brazen chain, and sought to sever
     Its adamantine links, that I might die.
     O Liberty! forgive the base endeavor,
     Forgive me, if, reserved for victory,
     The Champion of thy faith e'er sought to fly!
     That starry night, with its clear silence, sent
     Tameless resolve which laughed at misery
     Into my soul--linkèd remembrance lent
   To that such power, to me such a severe content.

     To breathe, to be, to hope, or to despair
     And die, I questioned not; nor, though the Sun,
     Its shafts of agony kindling through the air,
     Moved over me, nor though in evening dun,
     Or when the stars their visible courses run,
     Or morning, the wide universe was spread
     In dreary calmness round me, did I shun
     Its presence, nor seek refuge with the dead
   From one faint hope whose flower a dropping poison shed.

     Two days thus passed--I neither raved nor died;
     Thirst raged within me, like a scorpion's nest
     Built in mine entrails; I had spurned aside
     The water-vessel, while despair possessed
     My thoughts, and now no drop remained. The uprest
     Of the third sun brought hunger--but the crust
     Which had been left was to my craving breast
     Fuel, not food. I chewed the bitter dust,
   And bit my bloodless arm, and licked the brazen rust.

     My brain began to fail when the fourth morn
     Burst o'er the golden isles. A fearful sleep,
     Which through the caverns dreary and forlorn
     Of the riven soul sent its foul dreams to sweep
     With whirlwind swiftness--a fall far and deep--
     A gulf, a void, a sense of senselessness--
     These things dwelt in me, even as shadows keep
     Their watch in some dim charnel's loneliness,--
   A shoreless sea, a sky sunless and planetless!

     The forms which peopled this terrific trance
     I well remember. Like a choir of devils,
     Around me they involved a giddy dance;
     Legions seemed gathering from the misty levels
     Of Ocean, to supply those ceaseless revels,--
     Foul, ceaseless shadows; thought could not divide
     The actual world from these entangling evils,
     Which so bemocked themselves that I descried
   All shapes like mine own self hideously multiplied.

     The sense of day and night, of false and true,
     Was dead within me. Yet two visions burst
     That darkness; one, as since that hour I knew,
     Was not a phantom of the realms accursed,
     Where then my spirit dwelt--but of the first
     I know not yet, was it a dream or no;
     But both, though not distincter, were immersed
     In hues which, when through memory's waste they flow,
   Make their divided streams more bright and rapid now.

     Methought that grate was lifted, and the seven,
     Who brought me thither, four stiff corpses bare,
     And from the frieze to the four winds of Heaven
     Hung them on high by the entangled hair;
     Swarthy were three--the fourth was very fair;
     As they retired, the golden moon upsprung,
     And eagerly, out in the giddy air,
     Leaning that I might eat, I stretched and clung
   Over the shapeless depth in which those corpses hung.

     A woman's shape, now lank and cold and blue,
     The dwelling of the many-colored worm,
     Hung there; the white and hollow cheek I drew
     To my dry lips--What radiance did inform
     Those horny eyes? whose was that withered form?
     Alas, alas! it seemed that Cythna's ghost
     Laughed in those looks, and that the flesh was warm
     Within my teeth!--a whirlwind keen as frost
   Then in its sinking gulfs my sickening spirit tossed.

     Then seemed it that a tameless hurricane
     Arose, and bore me in its dark career
     Beyond the sun, beyond the stars that wane
     On the verge of formless pace--it languished there,
     And, dying, left a silence lone and drear,
     More horrible than famine. In the deep
     The shape of an old man did then appear,
     Stately and beautiful; that dreadful sleep
   His heavenly smiles dispersed, and I could wake and weep.

     And, when the blinding tears had fallen, I saw
     That column, and those corpses, and the moon,
     And felt the poisonous tooth of hunger gnaw
     My vitals; I rejoiced, as if the boon
     Of senseless death would be accorded soon,
     When from that stony gloom a voice arose,
     Solemn and sweet as when low winds attune
     The midnight pines; the grate did then unclose,
   And on that reverend form the moonlight did repose.

     He struck my chains, and gently spake and smiled;
     As they were loosened by that Hermit old,
     Mine eye were of their madness half beguiled
     To answer those kind looks; he did enfold
     His giant arms around me to uphold
     My wretched frame; my scorchèd limbs he wound
     In linen moist and balmy, and as cold
     As dew to drooping leaves; the chain, with sound
   Like earthquake, through the chasm of that steep stair did bound,

     As, lifting me, it fell!--What next I heard
     Were billow leaping on the harbor bar,
     And the shrill sea-wind whose breath idly stirred
     My hair; I looked abroad, and saw a star
     Shining beside a sail, and distant far
     That mountain and its column, the known mark
     Of those who in the wide deep wandering are,--
     So that I feared some Spirit, fell and dark,
   In trance had lain me thus within a fiendish bark.

     For now, indeed, over the salt sea billow
     I sailed; yet dared not look upon the shape
     Of him who ruled the helm, although the pillow
     For my light head was hollowed in his lap,
     And my bare limbs his mantle did enwrap,--
     Fearing it was a fiend; at last, he bent 
     O'er me his aged face; as if to snap
     Those dreadful thoughts, the gentle grandsire bent,
   And to my inmost soul his soothing looks he sent.

     A soft and healing potion to my lips
     At intervals he raised--now looked on high
     To mark if yet the starry giant dips
     His zone in the dim sea--now cheeringly,
     Though he said little, did he speak to me.
     `It is a friend beside thee--take good cheer
     Poor victim, thou art now at liberty!'
     I joyed as those a human tone to hear
   Who in cells deep and lone have languished many a year.

     A dim and feeble joy, whose glimpses oft
     Were quenched in a relapse of wildering dreams;
     Yet still methought we sailed, until aloft
     The stars of night grew pallid, and the beams
     Of morn descended on the ocean-streams;
     And still that aged man, so grand and mild,
     Tended me, even as some sick mother seems
     To hang in hope over a dying child,
   Till in the azure East darkness again was piled.

     And then the night-wind, steaming from the shore,
     Sent odors dying sweet across the sea,
     And the swift boat the little waves which bore,
     Were cut by its keen keel, though slantingly;
     Soon I could hear the leaves sigh, and could see
     The myrtle-blossoms starring the dim grove,
     As past the pebbly beach the boat did flee
     On sidelong wing into a silent cove
   Where ebon pines a shade under the starlight wove.