Yet 'gainst his nature—for through that short life,
Few thoughts had he to spare from gloom and strife.
"Corsair! thy doom is named—but I have power
"To soothe the Pacha in his weaker hour.
"Thee would I spare—nay more—would save thee now,
"But this—time—hope—nor even thy strength allow;
"But all I can, I will: at least delay
"The sentence that remits thee scarce a day. 1070
"More now were ruin—even thyself were loth
"The vain attempt should bring but doom to both."
"Yes!—loth indeed:—my soul is nerved to all,
"Or fall'n too low to fear a further fall:
"Tempt not thyself with peril—me with hope,
"Of flight from foes with whom I could not cope;
"Unfit to vanquish—shall I meanly fly,
"The one of all my band that would not die?—
"Yet there is one—to whom my memory clings,
"Till to these eyes her own wild softness springs. 1080