Or hoist his living carcase, hook'd on high,

To feed the fowls and insects of the sky;
Or if aught worse inventive cruelty

To that remorseless heart of royalty

Might prompt, accursed instruments they stand
To work the wicked will with wicked hand.
Far other thoughts were in the multitude;
Pity, and human feelings, held them still;
And stifled sighs and groans supprest were there,
And many a secret curse and inward prayer
Call'd on the insulted Gods to save mankind.
Expecting some new crime in fear they stood,
Some horror which would make the natural blood
Start, with cold shudderings thrill the sinking heart

Whiten the lip, and make the abhorrent eye
Roll back and, close, prest in for agony.

How then fared he for whom the mighty crowd Suffered in spirit thus,... how then fared he?

A ghastly smile was on his lip, his eye

Glared with a ghastly hope, as he drew nigh,

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 free! he cried; he hath his curse,

go

And Vengeance upon him can wreak no worse... ye who did not stop him... tremble ye!

But

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,

And night 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,

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. Where goes he?... Whither should Ladurlad go! 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