Of something there unknown, which men call death.

Meanwhile the Angel stayed without, and cried,

"Come back!" To which the Rabbi's voice replied,

"No! in the name of God, whom I adore,

I swear that hence I will depart no more !"

Then all the Angels cried, "O Holy One,

See what the son of Levi here has done! The kingdom of Heaven he takes by violence,

And in Thy name refuses to go hence !" The Lord replied, "My angels, be not wroth;

Did e'er the son of Levi break his oath?

Let him remain: for he with mortal eye Shall look upon my face and yet not die."

Beyond the outer wall the Angel of Death

Heard the great voice, and said, with panting breath,

"Give back the sword, and let me go my way."

Whereat the Rabbi paused, and answered, "Nay!

Anguish enough already has it caused Among the sons of men." And while he paused

He heard the awful mandate of the Lord Resounding through the air, "Give back the sword!"

The Rabbi bowed his head in silent

prayer;

Then said he to the dreadful Angel,

"Swear,

No human eye shall look on it again; But when thou takest away the souls of

men,

Thyself unseen, and with an unscen

sword,

Thou wilt perform the bidding of the Lord."

The Angel took the sword again, and

swore,

And walks on earth unseen for evermore.

INTERLUDE.

HE ended; and a kind of spell
Upon the silent listeners fell.
His solemn manner and his words
Had touched the deep, mysterious
chords,

That vibrate in each human breast
Alike, but not alike confessed.
The spiritual world seemed near;
And close above them, full of fear,
Its awful adumbration passed,
A luminous shadow, vague and vast.
They almost feared to look, lest there,
Embodied from the impalpable air,
They might behold the Angel stand,
Holding the sword in his right hand.

It was no dream: the world he loved so much

Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch!

Days came and went; and now returned again

To Sicily the old Saturnian reign; Under the Angel's governance benign The happy island danced with corn and wine,

And deep within the mountain's burning breast

Enceladus, the giant, was at rest.

Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate,

Sullen and silent and disconsolate. Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters

The Angel with great joy received his guests,

And gave them presents of embroidered

vests,

And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined,

And rings and jewels of the rarest kind.
Then he departed with them o'er the sea
Into the lovely land of Italy,
Whose loveliness was more resplendent
made

By the mere passing of that cavalcade, With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir

Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur.

And lo! among the menials, in mock state,

Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait,

His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the

wind,

The solemn ape demurely perched be hind,

King Robert rode, making huge merri

ment

In all the country towns through which they went.

The Pope received them with great pomp, and blare

Of bannered trumpets, on Saint Peter's Square,

Giving his benediction and embrace, Fervent, and full of apostolic grace. While with congratulations and with prayers

He entertained the Angel unawares, Robert the Jester, bursting through the crowd,

Into their presence rushed, and cried

aloud,

"I am the King! Look, and behold in

me

Robert, your brother, King of Sicily! This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes,

Is an impostor in a King's disguise. Do you not know me? does no voice within

He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher,

And with a gesture bade the rest retire: And when they were alone, the Angel said,

"Art thou the King?" Then, bowing down his head,

King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast,

And meekly answered him: "Thou knowest best!

My sins as scarlet are; let me go hence. And in some cloister's school of penitence,

Across those stones, that pave the way to heaven,

Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul is shriven !"

The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face

A holy light illumined all the place, And through the open window, loud and clear,

They heard the monks chant in the