Canto II: Canto II XIII
She gazed in wonder, "Can he calmly sleep,While other eyes his fall or ravage weep?And mine in restlessness are wandering here--What sudden spell hath made this man so dear?True--'tis to him my life, and more, I owe,And me and mine he spared from worse than woe:'Tis late to think--but soft--his slumber breaks--How heavily he sighs!--he starts--awakes!"He raised his head, and dazzled with the light,His eye seemed dubious if it saw aright:He moved his hand--the grating of his chainToo harshly told him that he lived again."What is that form? if not a shape of air,Methinks, my jailor's face shows wondrous fair!""Pirate! thou know'st me not, but I am one,Grateful for deeds thou hast too rarely done;Look on me--and remember her, thy handSnatched from the flames, and thy more fearful band.I come through darkness--and I scarce know why--Yet not to hurt--I would not see thee die."
"If so, kind lady! thine the only eyeThat would not here in that gay hope delight:Theirs is the chance--and let them use their right.But still I thank their courtesy or thine,That would confess me at so fair a shrine!"
Strange though it seem--yet with extremest griefIs linked a mirth--it doth not bring relief--That playfulness of Sorrow ne'er beguiles,And smiles in bitterness--but still it smiles;And sometimes with the wisest and the best,Till even the scaffold echoes with their jest!Yet not the joy to which it seems akin--It may deceive all hearts, save that within.Whate'er it was that flashed on Conrad, nowA laughing wildness half unbent his brow:And these his accents had a sound of mirth,As if the last he could enjoy on earth;Yet 'gainst his nature--for through that short life,Few thoughts had he to spare from gloom and strife.
Words in this poem
- dubious a.
- Doubtful or not settled in opinion; being in doubt; wavering or fluctuating; undetermined. [L. dubius, dubiosus, fr. duo two. See Two, and cf. Doubt.]
- aright adv.
- Rightly; correctly; in a right way or form; without mistake or crime; as, to worship God aright. [Pref. a- + right.]
- methinks v.
- It seems to me; I think. See Me. [AS. þyncan to seem, me þynceedh, me þuhte, OE. me thinketh, me thoughte; akin to G. dünken to seem, denken to think, and E. think. See Me, and Think.]
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- scarce a.
- Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
- thank n.
- A expression of gratitude; an acknowledgment expressive of a sense of favor or kindness received; obligation, claim, or desert, or gratitude; -- now generally used in the plural. [AS. Þanc, Þonc, thanks, favor, thought; akin to OS. thank favor, pleasure, thanks, D. & G. dank thanks, Icel. Þ\'94kk, Dan. tak, Sw. tack, Goth. Þagks thanks; -]
- jest n.
- A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Canto II: Canto II XIII is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 3, Project Gutenberg ebook #21811; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Lord Byron, Canto II: Canto II XIII, in The Giaour, and Other Poems (1816), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #21811, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/byron-works-3/canto-ii-canto-ii-xiii.html, id L23912.
Form and metre
Canto II: Canto II XIII is 39 lines in 3 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 92% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%).
See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABBCC--DDEEFFGGHHII sleepA · weepA · hereB · dearB · oweC · woeC · breaks · awakes · lightD · arightD · chainE · againE · airF · fairF · oneG · doneG · handH · bandH · whyI · dieI
- 2 -AABB eye · delightA · rightA · thineB · shrineB
- 3 AABBCCDDEEFFGG griefA · reliefA · beguilesB · smilesB · bestC · jestC · akinD · withinD · nowE · browE · mirthF · earthF · lifeG · strifeG
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| She gazed in wonder, "Can he calmly sleep, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| While other eyes his fall or ravage weep? | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| And mine in restlessness are wandering here-- | 10 | ···/˘·/˘˘· |
| What sudden spell hath made this man so dear? | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| True--'tis to him my life, and more, I owe, | 10 | ·········· |
| And me and mine he spared from worse than woe: | 10 | ·········· |
| 'Tis late to think--but soft--his slumber breaks-- | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| How heavily he sighs!--he starts--awakes!" | 10 | ·/˘˘····˘/ |
| He raised his head, and dazzled with the light, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| His eye seemed dubious if it saw aright: | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| He moved his hand--the grating of his chain | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Too harshly told him that he lived again. | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| "What is that form? if not a shape of air, | 10 | ·········· |
| Methinks, my jailor's face shows wondrous fair!" | 10 | ˘/·····/˘· |
| "Pirate! thou know'st me not, but I am one, | 10 | /˘········ |
| Grateful for deeds thou hast too rarely done; | 10 | /˘·····/˘· |
| Look on me--and remember her, thy hand | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Snatched from the flames, and thy more fearful band. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| I come through darkness--and I scarce know why-- | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Yet not to hurt--I would not see thee die." | 10 | ·········· |
| "If so, kind lady! thine the only eye | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| That would not here in that gay hope delight: | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Theirs is the chance--and let them use their right. | 10 | ·········· |
| But still I thank their courtesy or thine, | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| That would confess me at so fair a shrine!" | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| Strange though it seem--yet with extremest grief | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| Is linked a mirth--it doth not bring relief-- | 10 | ········˘/ |
| That playfulness of Sorrow ne'er beguiles, | 10 | ·/˘˘·/˘·˘/ |
| And smiles in bitterness--but still it smiles; | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| And sometimes with the wisest and the best, | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| Till even the scaffold echoes with their jest! | 10 | ·/·/˘/˘··· |
| Yet not the joy to which it seems akin-- | 10 | ········˘/ |
| It may deceive all hearts, save that within. | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| Whate'er it was that flashed on Conrad, now | 11 | ˘˘/·····/˘· |
| A laughing wildness half unbent his brow: | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| And these his accents had a sound of mirth, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| As if the last he could enjoy on earth; | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Yet 'gainst his nature--for through that short life, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Few thoughts had he to spare from gloom and strife. | 10 | ·········· |
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