HASSAN: 
Even as that moon
Renews itself—­

MAHMUD: 
Shall we be not renewed! 
Far other bark than ours were needed now
To stem the torrent of descending time:  350
The Spirit that lifts the slave before his lord
Stalks through the capitals of armed kings,
And spreads his ensign in the wilderness: 
Exults in chains; and, when the rebel falls,
Cries like the blood of Abel from the dust; 355
And the inheritors of the earth, like beasts
When earthquake is unleashed, with idiot fear
Cower in their kingly dens—­as I do now. 
What were Defeat when Victory must appal? 
Or Danger, when Security looks pale?—­ 360
How said the messenger—­who, from the fort
Islanded in the Danube, saw the battle
Of Bucharest?—­that—­

NOTES:  351 his edition 1822; its editions 1839. 356 of the earth edition 1822; of earth editions 1839.

HASSAN: 
Ibrahim’s scimitar
Drew with its gleam swift victory from Heaven,
To burn before him in the night of battle—­ 365
A light and a destruction.

MAHMUD: 
Ay! the day
Was ours:  but how?—­

HASSAN: 
The light Wallachians,
The Arnaut, Servian, and Albanian allies
Fled from the glance of our artillery
Almost before the thunderstone alit. 370
One half the Grecian army made a bridge
Of safe and slow retreat, with Moslem dead;
The other—­

MAHMUD: 
Speak—­tremble not.—­

HASSAN: 
Islanded
By victor myriads, formed in hollow square
With rough and steadfast front, and thrice flung back 375
The deluge of our foaming cavalry;
Thrice their keen wedge of battle pierced our lines. 
Our baffled army trembled like one man
Before a host, and gave them space; but soon,
From the surrounding hills, the batteries blazed, 380
Kneading them down with fire and iron rain: 
Yet none approached; till, like a field of corn
Under the hook of the swart sickleman,
The band, intrenched in mounds of Turkish dead,
Grew weak and few.—­Then said the Pacha, ’Slaves, 385
Render yourselves—­they have abandoned you—­
What hope of refuge, or retreat, or aid? 
We grant your lives.’  ‘Grant that which is thine own!’
Cried one, and fell upon his sword and died! 
Another—­’God, and man, and hope abandon me; 390
But I to them, and to myself, remain
Constant:’—­he bowed his head, and his heart burst. 
A third exclaimed, ’There is a refuge, tyrant,
Where thou darest not pursue, and canst not harm
Shouldst thou pursue; there we shall meet again.’ 395
Then held his breath, and, after a brief spasm,