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40 The cloven turbans o'er the chamber spread,

And scarce an arm dare rise to guard its head:

Even Seyd, convuls'd, o'erwhelm'd, with rage, surprise,

Retreats before him, though he still defies.

No craven he—and yet he dreads the blow,

So much Confusion magnifies his foe!

His blazing galleys still distract his sight,

He tore his beard, and foaming fled the fight;8

For now the pirates pass'd the Haram gate,

And burst within—and it were death to wait;

Where wild Amazement shrieking—kneeling—throws

The sword aside—in vain—the blood o'erflows!

The Corsairs pouring, haste to where within

Invited Conrad's bugle, and the din

Of groaning victims, and wild cries for life,

Proclaim'd how well he did the work of strife.

They shout to find him grim and lonely there,

A glutted tiger mangling in his lair!

But short their greeting, shorter his reply—

"&thinsp;'Tis well—but Seyd escapes—and he must die.