Canto II: Canto II VIII

And him she saw, where thickest carnage spread,But gathered breathing from the happier dead;Far from his band, and battling with a hostThat deem right dearly won the field he lost,Felled--bleeding--baffled of the death he sought,And snatched to expiate all the ills he wrought;Preserved to linger and to live in vain,While Vengeance pondered o'er new plans of pain,And stanched the blood she saves to shed again--But drop by drop, for Seyd's unglutted eyeWould doom him ever dying--ne'er to die!Can this be he? triumphant late she saw,When his red hand's wild gesture waved, a law!'Tis he indeed--disarmed but undeprest,His sole regret the life he still possest;His wounds too slight, though taken with that will,Which would have kissed the hand that then could kill.Oh were there none, of all the many given,To send his soul--he scarcely asked to Heaven?Must he alone of all retain his breath,Who more than all had striven and struck for death?He deeply felt--what mortal hearts must feel,When thus reversed on faithless Fortune's wheel,For crimes committed, and the victor's threatOf lingering tortures to repay the debt--He deeply, darkly felt; but evil PrideThat led to perpetrate--now serves to hide.Still in his stern and self-collected mienA conqueror's more than captive's air is seen,Though faint with wasting toil and stiffening wound,But few that saw--so calmly gazed around:Though the far shouting of the distant crowd,Their tremors o'er, rose insolently loud,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.