THE PIRATE AND THE SHARK.

Otago Witness, Issue 910, 8 May 1869, Page 15

THE PIRATE AND THE SHARK.

The following passage is from " The Rightful Heir/ a drama by Bulwer : — Vyv. — About that t'nae a stranger Came to our hamlet ; rough, yet, Bomeeaid, well-born ; Eoysterer, and comrade, such as youth delights in. Sailor he called himself, and nought belied The oailor's metal ringing in his talk Of El Dorados, and Enchanted Isles, Of hardy Raleigh, and of fearless Drake, And great Columbus with prophetic eyes Fixed on a dawning world. His legend 3 fired me — And, from the deep whose billows washed our walls, The alluring wave called with a Siren's

music. And thus I left my home with that wild seaman. Lady M. — The priest, consenting, still divulged not more ? Vyv.— No ; nor rebuked my ardour. "Go," he said, " The noblest of all nobles are tbe men In whom their conntry feels herself ennoMed." Lady M. (aside).— l breathe again. Well, thus you left these shores. Vyv. — Scarce had the brisker sea-wind

filled our sails, When the false traitor who had lured my trust Oast me to chains and darkness. Days went by, At length — one belt of desolate waters round, And on the decks one scowl of swarthy brows, (A hideous crew, the refuse of all bhores) Under tbe flapping of his raven flag The pirate stood revealed, and called his captive. Grimly _he heard" my boyish loud upbraidings, And grimly smiled in answering, "I like thee, Cast off, and disinherited, and desperats, Had but one choice — death, or the pirate's flag; Choose thou— l am more gracious than thy kindred ; I proffor life ; the gold they gave me paid Thy grave in ocean !" Lady 31.— Hold ! the demon lied ! Vyv. — Swift, as I answered so, his blade flashed forth ; Bat self • defence is swifter still thaa slaughter ; I \>lucked a sword from one who stood beside

me, And smote the slanderer to my feet. Then all That human hell broke loose ; oaths rane, steel ligbtene-i ; c When in the death-swoon of the caitiff chief, The pirate next in rank forced back the swarm, And — in that superstition of the sea Which makes the sole religion of its outlaws Forbade my doom by bloodshed— griped and bound me To a slight plank; spread to the winds the sail, And left me on the waves alone with God. Euel.— Pause. Let my hand take thine— feel its warm lite, And, shuddering less, thank Him whose eye was o'er thee Vyv.— That day and all that night, upon the seas Tossed the frail barrier letween life and death ; Heaven lulted the gales ; and when the stars came forth. All looki d so bland nnd gentle that I wept, Kecalled that wretch's words, and murmured. "All, Ev"n wave nnd wind, are kinder than xnv kmdred !" J But, nay. sweet lady — Lady M.— Heed me not. Night passed — Vy —Day dawned ; and, glittering in the sun, behold A sail— a flag ! Evd.~ Well— well? Vyv.— Like Hop%, it vanished 1 Noon glaring came— with noon came thirst and famine. And with parched lips I called on death, and sought To wrench my limbs from the stiff cordß thafe gnawed Into the flesh, and drop into the deep : And then — the clear wave trembled, and below I saw a dark, awirt-nioving, shapeless thing. With watchful, glassy eyes ; — the ghastly shark Swam hungering round its prey— then life ; once more Grew sweet, and with a strained and horrent gaze And lifted hair I floated on, till sense Grew dim, and dimmer ; and & terrible sleep (In which still— still — those livid, eyes met mine) Fell on me — and — Evel, — Quick — quick ! Vyv, — I woke, and heard My native tongue ; Kind looks were bent i upon me. i I lay on deck— escaped the ravening death,— > For God. had watched tho sleeper.