But in the omnipresence of that Spirit 600
In which all live and are.  Ominous signs
Are blazoned broadly on the noonday sky: 
One saw a red cross stamped upon the sun;
It has rained blood; and monstrous births declare
The secret wrath of Nature and her Lord. 605
The army encamped upon the Cydaris
Was roused last night by the alarm of battle,
And saw two hosts conflicting in the air,
The shadows doubtless of the unborn time
Cast on the mirror of the night.  While yet 610
The fight hung balanced, there arose a storm
Which swept the phantoms from among the stars. 
At the third watch the Spirit of the Plague
Was heard abroad flapping among the tents;
Those who relieved watch found the sentinels dead. 615
The last news from the camp is, that a thousand
Have sickened, and—­

[ENTER A FOURTH MESSENGER.]

MAHMUD: 
And thou, pale ghost, dim shadow
Of some untimely rumour, speak!

FOURTH MESSENGER: 
One comes
Fainting with toil, covered with foam and blood: 
He stood, he says, on Chelonites’ 620
Promontory, which o’erlooks the isles that groan
Under the Briton’s frown, and all their waters
Then trembling in the splendour of the moon,
When as the wandering clouds unveiled or hid
Her boundless light, he saw two adverse fleets 625
Stalk through the night in the horizon’s glimmer,
Mingling fierce thunders and sulphureous gleams,
And smoke which strangled every infant wind
That soothed the silver clouds through the deep air. 
At length the battle slept, but the Sirocco 630
Awoke, and drove his flock of thunder-clouds
Over the sea-horizon, blotting out
All objects—­save that in the faint moon-glimpse
He saw, or dreamed he saw, the Turkish admiral
And two the loftiest of our ships of war, 635
With the bright image of that Queen of Heaven,
Who hid, perhaps, her face for grief, reversed;
And the abhorred cross—­

NOTE: 
620 on Chelonites’]on Chelonites “Errata”;
     upon Clelonite’s edition 1822;
     upon Clelonit’s editions 1839.

[ENTER AN ATTENDANT.]

ATTENDANT: 
Your Sublime Highness,
The Jew, who—­

MAHMUD: 
Could not come more seasonably: 
Bid him attend.  I’ll hear no more! too long 640
We gaze on danger through the mist of fear,
And multiply upon our shattered hopes
The images of ruin.  Come what will! 
To-morrow and to-morrow are as lamps
Set in our path to light us to the edge 645
Through rough and smooth, nor can we suffer aught
Which He inflicts not in whose hand we are.