A coming step, unheard by Roderick, roused His watchful ear, and turning he beheld Siverian. Father, said the good old man, As Theron rose and fawn’d about his knees, Hast thou some charm, which draws about thee thus The hearts of all our house, ... even to the beast That lacks discourse of reason, but too oft, With uncorrupted feeling and dumb faith, Puts lordly man to shame?... The king replied, ’Tis that mysterious sense by which mankind To fix their friendships and their loves are led, And which with fainter influence doth extend To such poor things as this. As we put off The cares and passions of this fretful world, It may be too that we thus far approach To elder nature, and regain in part The privilege through sin in Eden lost. The timid hare soon learns that she may trust The solitary penitent, and birds Will light upon the hermit’s harmless hand. Thus Roderick answer’d in excursive speech, Thinking to draw the old man’s mind from what Might touch him else too nearly, and himself Disposed to follow on the lure he threw, As one whom such imaginations led Out of the world of his own miseries. But to regardless ears his words were given, For on the dog Siverian gazed the while, Pursuing his own thoughts. Thou hast not felt, Exclaim’d the old man, the earthquake and the storm; The kingdom’s overthrow, the wreck of Spain, The ruin of thy royal master’s house, Have reach’d not thee!... Then turning to the King, When the destroying enemy drew nigh Toledo, he continued, and we fled Before their fury, even while her grief Was fresh, my Mistress would not leave behind This faithful creature. Well we knew she thought Of Roderick then, although she named him not; For never since the fatal certainty Fell on us all, hath that unhappy name, Save in her prayers, been known to pass her lips Before this day. She names him now, and weeps; But now her tears are tears of thankfulness, For blessed hath thy coming been to her And all who loved the King. His faltering voice Here fail’d him, and he paused: recovering soon, When that poor injured Lady, he pursued, Did in my presence to the Prince absolve The unhappy King.... Absolve him! Roderick cried, And in that strong emotion turn’d his face Sternly toward Siverian, for the sense Of shame and self-reproach drove from his min All other thoughts. The good old man replied Of human judgements humanly I speak. Who knows not what Pelayo’s life hath been? Not happier in all dear domestic ties, Than worthy for his virtue of the bliss Which is that virtue’s fruit; and yet did he Absolve, upon Florinda’s tale, the King. Siverian, thus he said, what most I hoped, And still within my secret heart believed, Is now made certain. Roderick hath been More sinn’d against than sinning. And with that