CHAPTER VIII.

Publication of "The Giaour."-Plan of the Poem. -Its beauties and defects.-Use made of the story of Sisera.-Account of the "Bride of Abydos."-Its dangerous tendency.

THE success of Childe Harold, instead of stimulating the author to hasten the completion of his plan, encouraged him to publish within a few months another poem, of a very different construction, and in some respects of a far superior character. This was the Turkish tale of "The Giaour," which Lord Byron inscribed to the author of The Pleasures of Memory," as a slight, but sincere, token of admiration of his genius, respect for his character, and gratitude for his friendship."

The story is simple, and very indistinctly told, but developes itself, at the conclusion, in a manner which

the reader must have easily anticipated. Hassan, a powerful Emir, discovers an intrigue between his favourite mistress Leila and a young Venetian, to whom no other name is given in the poem, than the common appellation of "the Giaour," or Infidel, by which Christians are called, out of contempt, among the zealous Mussulmans. The lover escapes with difficulty; but the poor female slave is carried off in a sack, and thrown into the sea. In the mean time, the fugitive gains the mountains, joins a band of robbers, and at length becomes their chief. At the head of this company, or tribe of Arnaouts, he has an opportunity of wreaking his revenge upon Hassan, who recognizes him in the fray, but falls beneath the arm of the detested Giaour. The victor then quits his predatory course of life, and throws himself into a monastery; not, however, in the spirit of devotion and penitence, but in a gloomy fit of despondence; still preserving under the cowl all the ferocity of his former character. In this state he dies, after revealing the particulars of his story, and rejeeting alike all the counsels and consolations of the monk to whom he makes his confession. Such is the outline of this fable, as the

author calls his poem; but he has made ample amends for the irregularity of the narrative, and the deficiency of incident, by copiousness of reflection, and richness of description.

The performance opens with an indignant apostrophe to Greece, whose ancient and present state is forcibly contrasted:

"Clime of the unforgotten brave,

Whose land, from plain to mountain cave,
Was Freedom's home, or Glory's grave!

Shrine of the mighty can it be,

That this is all remains of thee ?"

The poet then goes on to paint more minutely and severely the character of the modern Greeks, who are represented as callous, save to crime."

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Of the low state to which the people are reduced, and the insecurity of even the humblest of them, a more striking instance could hardly be given than the picture of the fisherman working his wary course, after a long day of labour, to the shore, yet suspicious

of every point he passes, and dreading every speck that appears on the horizon:

"Far, dark, along the blue sea glancing,

The shadows of the rocks advancing
Start on the fisher's eye, like boat

Of island pirate, or Mainote;
And, fearful for his light caïque,

He shuns the near but doubtful creek :
Though worn and weary with his toil,
And cumber'd with his scaly spoil,
Slowly, yet strongly, plies the oar,
Till Port Leone's safer shore

Receives him by the lovely light

That best becomes an eastern night."

Nothing can be better imagined, or more happily expressed, than the manner in which the unhappy victim of eastern jealousy is sacrificed :

I gazed till, vanishing from view,

Like lessening pebble it withdrew :

Still less and less, a speck of white

That gemm'd the tide, then mock'd the sight-
And all the hidden secrets sleep,

Known but to Genii of the deep,

Which, trembling in the coral caves,

They dare not whisper to the waves."

The account of the conflict between Hassan and his inveterate enemy, is wrought up with great animation; and presents to the reader's mind a very distinct picture of the danger to which travellers are exposed in the east, and of the manner in which hostilities are carried on when they are forced to contend for their lives. But the noble author of this fine poem has, in one instance, copied the sacred history literally, and that without noticing the circumstance in the slightest degree, in his appendix of notes. It is where the mother of the emir Hassan looks out anxiously for the arrival of her son:

"She saw the dews of eve besprinkling
The pasture green beneath her eye;
She saw the planets faintly twinkling,

"Tis twilight-sure his train is nigh !'