"A conqueror's more than captive's air is seen,"


and he is not insensible to all fear.


"Each has some fear, and he who least betrays,
The only hypocrite deserving praise.

* * * * *

One thought alone he could not--dared not meet--
'Oh, how these tidings will Medora greet?'"


Gulnare announces his doom to him, hut he is calm. He cannot stoop even
to pray. He has deserted his Maker, and it would be baseness now to
prostrate himself before Him.


"I have no thought to mock his throne with prayer
Wrung from the coward crouching of despair;
It is enough--I breathe--and I can bear."


He has no martyr-hope with which to console himself; his endurance is of
the finest order--simple, sheer resolution, a resolve that with no
reward, he will never disgrace himself. He knows what it is