IN Coron's bay floats many a galley light,
Through Coron's lattices the lamps are bright,'
For Seyd, the Pacha, makes a feast to-night:
A feast for promised triumph yet to come,
When he shall drag the fettered Rovers home;
1. [Coron, or Corone, the ancient Colonides, is situated a little to the north of a promontory, Point Lividia, on the western shore of the Gulf of Kalamata, or Coron, or Messenia.
Antoine Louis Castellan (1772-1838), with whose larger work on Turkey Byron professed himself familiar (Letter to Moore, August 28, 1813), gives a vivid description of Coron and the bey's palace in his Lettres sur la Morée, etc. (first published, Paris, 1808), 3 vols., 1820. Whether Byron had or had not consulted the "Letters," the following passages may help to illustrate the scene :
"La châine caverneuse du Taygète s'élève en face de Coron, à l'autre extrémité du golfe" (iii. 181)..
"Nous avons aussi été faire une visite au bey, qui nous a permis de parcourir la citadelle" (p. 187).
Le bey fait a exécuter en notre présence une danse singulière, qu'on peut nommer danse pantomime" (p. 189; see line 642).
"La maison est assez bien distribuée et proprement meublée à la manière des Turcs. La principale pièce est grande, ornée d'une boisserie ciselée sur les dessins arabesques, et même marquetée. Les fenêtres donnent sur le jardin... les volets sont ordinairement fermés, dans le milieu de la journée, et le jour ne pénètre alors qu'à travers des ouvertures pratiquées, au dessus des fenêtres et garnis de vitraux colorés" (p. 200). Castellan saw the palace and bay illuminated (p. 203).]
This hath he sworn by Allah and his sword,
And faithful to his firman and his word,
His summoned prows collect along the coast,
And great the gathering crews, and loud the boast;
Already shared the captives and the prize,
Though far the distant foe they thus despise ;
'Tis but to sail-no doubt to-morrow's Sun
Will see the Pirates bound-their haven won!
Meantime the watch may slumber, if they will, 620
Nor only wake to war, but dreaming kill.
Though all, who can, disperse on shore and seek
To flesh their glowing valour on the Greek;
How well such deed becomes the turbaned brave-
To bare the sabre's edge before a slave!
Infest his dwelling-but forbear to slay,
Their arms are strong, yet merciful to-day,
And do not deign to smite because they may !
Unless some gay caprice suggests the blow,
To keep in practice for the coming foe.
Revel and rout the evening hours beguile,
And they who wish to wear a head must smile; For Moslem mouths produce their choicest cheer, And hoard their curses, till the coast is clear.
High in his hall reclines the turbaned Seyd;
Around-the bearded chiefs he came to lead.
Removed the banquet, and the last pilaff—
Forbidden draughts, 'tis said, he dared to quaff,
Though to the rest the sober berry's juice 1
The slaves bear round for rigid Moslems' use; 640
The long chibouque's 2 dissolving cloud supply,
While dance the Almas1 to wild minstrelsy.
The rising morn will view the chiefs embark;
But waves are somewhat treacherous in the dark :
And revellers may more securely sleep
On silken couch than o'er the rugged deep:
Feast there who can-nor combat till they must,
And less to conquest than to Korans trust;
And yet the numbers crowded in his host
Might warrant more than even the Pacha's boast. 650
With cautious reverence from the outer gate
Slow stalks the slave, whose office there to wait,
Bows his bent head-his hand salutes the floor,
Ere yet his tongue the trusted tidings bore:
"A captive Dervise, from the Pirate's nest
Escaped, is here-himself would tell the rest.” 2
He took the sign from Seyd's assenting eye,
And led the holy man in silence nigh.
His arms were folded on his dark-green vest,
His step was feeble, and his look deprest ;
Yet worn he seemed of hardship more than years,
And pale his cheek with penance, not from fears.
Vowed to his God-his sable locks he wore,
And these his lofty cap rose proudly o'er :
1. Dancing girls. [Compare The Waltz, line 127, Poetical Works, 1898, i. 492, note 1.]
2. It has been observed, that Conrad's entering disguised as a spy is out of nature. Perhaps so. I find something not unlike it in history." Anxious to explore with his own eyes the state of the Vandals, Majorian ventured, after disguising the colour of his hair, to visit Carthage in the character of his own ambassador; and Genseric was afterwards mortified by the discovery, that he had entertained and dismissed the Emperor of the Romans. Such an anecdote may be rejected as an improbable fiction; but it is a fiction which would not have been imagined unless in the life of a hero."See Gibbon's Decline and Fall [1854, iv. 272.]
Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone;
Submissive, yet with self-possession manned,
He calmly met the curious eyes that scanned;
And question of his coming fain would seek,
Before the Pacha's will allowed to speak.
"Whence com'st thou, Dervise?"
"Thy capture where and when ?”
"From Scalanova's port1 to Scio's isle,
The Saick2 was bound; but Allah did not smile
Upon our course-the Moslem merchant's gains
The Rovers won; our limbs have worn their chains.
I had no death to fear, nor wealth to boast,
Beyond the wandering freedom which I lost;
At length a fisher's humble boat by night
Afforded hope, and offered chance of flight;
I seized the hour, and find my safety here-
With thee-most mighty Pacha! who can fear?"
"How speed the outlaws? stand they well prepared,
Their plundered wealth, and robber's rock, to guard?
Dream they of this our preparation, doomed
To view with fire their scorpion nest consumed?"
"Pacha! the fettered captive's mourning eye, That weeps for flight, but ill can play the spy; I only heard the reckless waters roar,
Those waves that would not bear me from the shore; 690
I. [On the coast of Asia Minor, twenty-one miles south of Smyrna.] 2. [A Levantine bark-" a kind of ketch without top-gallant sail, or mizzen-top sail."]
I only marked the glorious Sun and sky,
Too bright-too blue-for my captivity;
And felt that all which Freedom's bosom cheers
Must break my chain before it dried my tears.
This mayst thou judge, at least, from my escape,
They little deem of aught in Peril's shape;
Else vainly had I prayed or sought the chance
That leads me here-if eyed with vigilance:
The careless guard that did not see me fly,
May watch as idly when thy power is nigh.
Pacha! my limbs are faint-and nature craves
Food for my hunger, rest from tossing waves:
Permit my absence-peace be with thee! Peace
With all around!-now grant repose-release."
"Stay, Dervise! I have more to question-stay,
I do command thee-sit-dost hear?―obey!
More I must ask, and food the slaves shall bring;
Thou shalt not pine where all are banqueting:
The supper done-prepare thee to reply,
Clearly and full-I love not mystery."
"Twere vain to guess what shook the pious man,
Who looked not lovingly on that Divan;
Nor showed high relish for the banquet prest,
And less respect for every fellow guest.
'Twas but a moment's peevish hectic passed
Along his cheek, and tranquillised as fast:
He sate him down in silence, and his look
Resumed the calmness which before forsook :
The feast was ushered in--but sumptuous fare
He shunned as if some poison mingled there.
For one so long condemned to toil and fast,
Methinks he strangely spares the rich repast.
"What ails thee, Dervise? eat-dost thou suppose
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