And cried aloud, Yes, Rajah! it is I!

And wilt thou kill me now?

The countenance of the Almighty Man Fell when he knew Ladurlad, and his brow Was clouded with despite, as one asham'd. That wretch again! indignant he exclaim'd, And smote his forehead, and stood silently Awhile in wrath: then, with ferocious smile, And eyes which seem'd to darken his dark cheek, Let him go free! he cried; he hath his curse, vengeance upon him can wreak no worse

And

But

ye who did not stop him... tremble ye!

...

He bade the archers pile their weapons there:
No manly courage fill'd the slavish band,

No sweetening vengeance rous'd a brave despair.
He call'd his horsemen then, and gave command
To hem the offenders in, and hew them down.
Ten thousand scymitars at once uprear'd,
Flash up, like waters sparkling to the sun;
A second time the fatal brands appear'd

Lifted aloft,... they glitter'd then no more,

Their light was gone, their splendour quench'd in gore.

At noon the massacre begun,

Andnight clos'd in before the work of death was done.

IX.

THE HOME-SCENE.

The steam of slaughter from that place of blood

Spread o'er the tainted sky.

Vultures, for whom the Rajah's tyranny

So oft had furnish'd food, from far and nigh
Sped to the lure: aloft with joyful cry,
Wheeling around, they hover'd over head;
Or, on the temple perch'd, with greedy eye,
Impatient watch'd the dead.

Far off the tygers, in the inmost wood,

Heard the death-shriek, and snuff'd the scent of blood.

They rose, and through the covert went their way,

91

Couch'd at the forest edge, and waited for their prey.
He who had sought for death went wandering on,
The hope which had inspir'd his heart was gone,
Yet a wild joyance still inflam'd his face,

A smile of vengeance, a triumphant glow.
he? Whither should Ladurlad go!

Where

goes

...

Unwittingly the wretch's footsteps trace

Their wonted path toward his dwelling-place;
And wandering on, unknowing where,
He starts at finding he is there.

Behold his lowly home,

By yonder broad-bough'd plane o'ershaded:
There Marriataly's Image stands,

And there the garland twin'd by Kailyal's hands
Around its brow hath faded.

The peacocks, at their master's sight,

Quick from the leafy thatch alight,

And hurry round, and search the ground, And veer their glancing necks from side to side, Expecting from his hand

Their daily dole, which erst the Maid supplied,

Now all too long denied.

But as he gaz'd around,

How strange did all accustom'd sights appear ! How differently did each familiar sound Assail his altered ear!

Here stood the marriage bower,

Rear'd in that happy hour

When he, with festal joy and youthful pride, Brought his Yedillian home, his beauteous bride. Leaves not its own, and many a borrowed flower, Had then bedeck'd it, withering ere the night; But he who look'd, from that auspicious day, For years of long delight,

And would not see the marriage bower decay, There planted and nurst up, with daily care, The sweetest herbs that scent the ambient air, And train'd them round to live and flourish there.

Nor when dread Yamen's will

Had call'd Yedillian from his arms away,

Ceas'd he to tend the marriage-bower, but still,