Told in the gate

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In the Gate 7

IN THE GATE.

II

The smoke of censers, where heaped ambergris And myrrh and sandal-wood and cinnamon Fragrantly smouldered, through the languid air Crept upward, wavering slowly as it rose To fans of slave girls, whose fair polished limbs Glowed through the mists of gauzes roseate. The pearly fall of fountains, and afar The sound of distant bells, alone broke through The luscious stillness of the afternoon.

At Cintra's shell-pink feet great Rohab lay, His mighty body lapped in silken sloth ; While all his soul yearned with love's ecstasies. One playful finger of her slender hand Dented his swarthy cheek's rough bronze till white The pink nail showed, so hard she pressed it in. Whereat he laughed, and caught the teasing hand, And kissed it till she laughing drew it back.

Then to escape the burning of his eyes,

She turned and stretched her arm like a swan's neck

THE SORROW OF ROHAB. I 5

After her lute; a shower of pearl, she ran Her fingers twinkling down the liquid strings, And broke into a lay, meeting his glance With eyes where ever love and laughter welled :

" Sweetheart, thy lips are touched with flame ; Sweetheart, thy glowing ardor tame ; — Sweetheart, thy love how can I blame,

When I, too, feel its fire,

When all thy fond desire, Sweetheart, I know the same ?

" Sweetheart, thine eyes like rubies glow ; Sweetheart, no more regard me so ; — Sweetheart, I cannot chide thee though, Since my looks too are burning, Since I, too, throb with yearning ; Sweetheart, thy pangs I know !

" Sweetheart, the blood leaps in thy cheek; Sweetheart, thy very heart-throbs speak ; — Sweetheart, to chide I am too weak ;

My heart, so hotly beating,

Is still thy name repeating, Sweetheart, to still it seek !

" Sweetheart, I touch thy brow; Sweetheart, I kiss thee now ; — Sweetheart — "

But Rohab dashed the pleading lute aside, And ended all the lay's soft amorousness To clasp her in his arms, and kiss her lips And brow and bosom. Dearer than his fame Or land or people was his love.

The clang Of armor and the steps of one in haste Broke through the monarch's dream. A hand in mail Tore roughly at the silks of Samarcand Which veiled the entrance to that nest of bliss.

In one another's arms, but with embrace Half loosened in amaze that one should dare Invade that paradise, the lovers looked With startled eyes as through the portal came Isak, doom-bearing; and on Cintra's cheek Instinctive presage turned love's blushes pale. On. Rohab's brow the cloud of mighty wrath Swelled black as midnight tempest.

THE SORROW OF ROHAB. \J

" Wherefore this ? "

He cried. " Is Rohab counted now so light

His servants seek his face unbidden ? "

Word

There was not in reply ; but Isak's sword

Hissed in the air, and leaped with burning flash

Downward on Cintra's neck as lightning falls

Upon a lily. Her fair head, with all

Its wealth of hair shining and richly brown

Like melon seeds, its eyes of topaz, lips

Like twin pomegranate blooms, its cheeks as smooth

As a flute's note, all that rare loveliness

Had caught the heart of Rohab as a snare

Tangles the falcon in a coil of death,

Fell, changed to thing of horror, drenched in blood,

And beautiful no more.

With cry where rage Fought mightily with grief, Rohab sprang up, The rubies on his robe outmatched in red By blood-drops ; while his hand sought for his sword, But found it not.

" Thine enemies/' in taunt Cried Isak, "at thy very gates set foot,

I 8 THE SORROW OF ROHAB.

And dallying with his love swordless is found Rohab, the mighty ! Slay not me, O King, Who am a warrior, with a hand perfumed By playing with thy lady's locks ! When thou Again art Rohab, mine own blade I lend Till thou avenge this insult on my head. Now, save thy people ! "

All the dancing girls, Huddling as sheep crowd when the wolf is come, ^Clustered around, but dared not speak or cry. .At Rohab's feet the head that had been she Lay white and staring-eyed, ghastly. — The king Set his teeth hard ; his eyes were terrible ; >Gray his swart cheeks. An instant as clocks count, — But space how long to their strained souls ! — he stood .Immovable.

cc So be it ! Go before."

Without one backward glance to where she lay Wriom he. had loved, he followed Isak forth.

III As the simoon which rushes frantic forth

To blast and blight ; as the fell swooping wave

As the dread sword in Azrael's awful hand —

So on his foes fell Rohab. All before

Was pride ; behind was shame. Before was strength ;

Behind was death. An all-consuming fire

He ravaged ; and of twice ten tribes, which bound

Themselves in oath blood- consecrated sword

Nor death itself should stay their bitter way

Till they had conquered Rohab, not one man

Was left to lift the spear. Festered with blood

Was the wide desert, and the vultures, gorged,

Even the scent of carrion could not stir.

His wrath was like the rage of Eblis when Allah hurled him to hell. The leaping flames Of thirty cities lighted Cintra's ghost The darksome way it went. Drunken with blood And mad with rage, the burning lust to kill And kill and kill devoured his very soul.

Since she was dead, it stung him to the quick That any dared be yet alive ! He slew And slew and slew, till there were none to slay ; Till trampled in the blood-drenched dust lay prone The might of all the tribes.

Ever the king Fought with the meanest, with his warriors fared ; And leading once himself a band that stole To fall upon a village unaware, While in the thicket crouched, he saw a girl, Barefooted and barearmed, a peasant maid, Singing as day went down a song of love, Twirling her distaff as with shining eyes She looked across the plain like one who waits :

cc Sings the nightingale to the rose :

c Without thy love I die !

Sweetheart, regard my cry ! ' Sings the fountain as it flows :

c Oh, lily, comfort give ;

Sweetheart, for thee T live ! ' Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, dear, I love thee, and I wait thee here !

" Sings the cyclamen to the bee:

'In love alone is rest;

Sweetheart, come to my breast.' Sings the moon on high to the sea:

1 1 shine for thee alone ;

Sweetheart, I am thine own.' Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, dear, I love thee, and I wait thee here ! "

And Rohab, cut to heart, drew back his band,

Sparing the village for the sake of her

And for the song whose murmuring burden brought

The memory of another song too sweet,

Too sad to bear.

Ever at Rohab's side Where battled fiercest eddies swirled and raged, With spume of bloody foam and dreadful wrack Of broken bodies, trampled man and horse, Tall spear, proud helm, and vaunting blazoned shield, All ownerless despite their boast, Isak Like an avenging angel fought, with sword That bulwarked Rohab. Thrice he thrust himself Between the king and blows that would have slain ;

Once and again, watching for treachery,

He gave the warning saved the king from foes

Disguised like his own guards and creeping close.

Yet ever Rohab, like one hating life,

Still held his peace, and gave no word of praise.

THE SORROW OF ROHAB.