Page:The Corsair (Byron).djvu/60

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For crimes committed, and the victor's threat
Of lingering tortures to repay the debt
He deeply, darkly felt; but evil pride
That led to perpetrate—now serves to hide.
Still in his stern and self-collected mien
A conqueror's more than captive's air is seen,
Though faint with wasting toil and stiffening wound,
But few that saw—so calmly gaz’d around:
Though the far shouting of the distant crowd,
Their tremors o'er, rose insolently loud,910
The better warriors who beheld him near,
Insulted not the foe who taught them fear—
And the grim guards that to his durance led,
In silence eyed him with a secret dread.


The Leech was sent—but not in mercy—there
To note how much the life yet left could bear;
He found enough to load with heaviest chain,
And promise feeling for the wrench of pain:
To-morrow—yea—to-morrow's evening sun
Will sinking see impalement's pangs begun,920