ich till now
Did not belong to what I knew of life.
If that I did not know philosophy
To be of all our vanities the motliest,
The merest word that ever fool'd the ear
From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem
The golden secret, the sought 'Kalon,' found,
And seated in my soul. It will not last,
But it is well to have known it, though but once:
It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense,
And I within my tablets would note down
That there is such a feeling. Who is there?

_Re-enter_ HERMAN.

_Her._ My lord, the Abbot of St. Maurice craves
To greet your presence.

_Enter the_ ABBOT OF ST. MAURICE.

_Abbot._ Peace be with Count Manfred!

_Man._ Thanks, holy father! welcome to these walls;
Thy presence honours them, and blesseth those
Who dwell within them.

_Abbot._ Would it were so, Count!
But I would fain confer with thee alone.

_Man._ Herman, retire. What would my reverend guest?

[_Exit_ HERMAN.

_Abbot._ Thus, without prelude:--Age and zeal, my office,
And good intent, must plead my privilege;
Our near, though not acquainted neighbourhood,
May also be my herald. Rumours strange,
And of unholy nature, are abroad,
And busy with thy name--a noble name
For centuries; may he who bears it now
Transmit it unimpair'd.

_Man._ Proceed,--I listen.

_Abbot._ 'Tis said thou boldest converse with the things
Which are forbidden to the search of man;
That with the dwellers of the dark abodes,
The many evil and unheavenly spirits
Which walk the valley of the shade of death,
Thou communest. I know that with mankind,
Thy fellows in creation, thou dost rarely
Exchange thy thoughts, and that thy solitude
Is as an anchorite's, were it but holy.

_Man._ And what are they who do avouch these things?

_Abbot._ My pious brethren--the scared peasantry--
Even thy own vassals--who do look on thee
With most unquiet eyes. Thy life's in peril.

_Man._ Take it.

_Abbot._ I come to save, and not destroy--
I would not pry into thy secret soul;
But if these things be sooth, there still is time
For penitence and pity: reconcile thee
With the true church, and through the church to heaven.

_Man._ I hear thee. This is my reply; Whate'er
I may have been, or am, doth rest between
Heaven and myself.--I shall not choose a mortal
To be my mediator. Have I sinn'd
Against your ordinances? prove and punish![1]

_Abbot