| |
| WELL pleased the audience heard the tale. | |
| The Theologian said: “Indeed, | |
| To praise you there is little need; | |
| One almost hears the farmer’s flail | |
| Thresh out your wheat, nor does there fail | 5 |
| A certain freshness, as you said, | |
| And sweetness as of home-made bread. | |
| But not less sweet and not less fresh | |
| Are many legends that I know, | |
| Writ by the monks of long-ago, | 10 |
| Who loved to mortify the flesh, | |
| So that the soul might purer grow, | |
| And rise to a diviner state; | |
| And one of these—perhaps of all | |
| Most beautiful—I now recall, | 15 |
| And with permission will narrate; | |
| Hoping thereby to make amends | |
| For that grim tragedy of mine, | |
| As strong and black as Spanish wine, | |
| I told last night, and wish almost | 20 |
| It had remained untold, my friends; | |
| For Torquemada’s awful ghost | |
| Came to me in the dreams I dreamed, | |
| And in the darkness glared and gleamed | |
| Like a great lighthouse on the coast.” | 25 |
| |
| The Student laughing said: “Far more | |
| Like to some dismal fire of bale | |
| Flaring portentous on a hill; | |
| Or torches lighted on a shore | |
| By wreckers in a midnight gale. | 30 |
| No matter; be it as you will, | |
| Only go forward with your tale.” | |
| |
