6. 
And I lay struggling in the impotence
Of sleep, while outward life had burst its bound,
Though, still deluded, strove the tortured sense 1155
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 armed men, whose glittering swords were bare, 1160
And whose degraded limbs the tyrant’s garb did wear.

7. 
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, 1165
And grasping a small knife, I went to seek
That voice among the crowd—­’twas 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. 1170

8. 
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, 1175
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.

9. 
’Look not so, Laon—­say farewell in hope, 1180
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! 1185
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.’

10. 
These words had fallen on my unheeding ear,
Whilst I had watched the motions of the crew 1190
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, 1195
And grasped a fourth by the throat, and with loud cry
My countrymen invoked to death or liberty!

11. 
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, 1200
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 1205
Of blazing roofs shone far o’er the white Ocean’s flow.