That’s the sword of wrath! In a crack to the bottom, every soul, man and mouse! Oh, for ever blest be the lucky chance—— [_With emotion._ A chance? No, no, it was more than a chance. I was to be rescued and they to perish. Oh, thanks and praise for that thou hast kept me, Hast cared for me, spite of all my sins!— [_Draws a deep breath._ What a marvellous feeling of safety and peace It gives one to know oneself specially shielded! But the desert! What about food and drink? Oh, something I’m sure to find. _He’ll_ see to that. There’s no cause for alarm;— [_Loud and insinuatingly._ _He_ would never allow A poor little sparrow like me to perish! Be but lowly of spirit. And give him time. Leave it all in the Lord’s hands; and don’t be cast down.— [_With a start of terror._ Can that be a lion that growled in the reeds——? [_His teeth chattering._ No, it wasn’t a lion. [_Mustering up courage._ A lion, forsooth! Those beasts, they’ll take care to keep out of the way. They know it’s no joke to fall foul of their betters. They have instinct to guide them;—they feel, what’s a fact, That it’s dangerous playing with elephants.— But all the same——. I must find a tree. There’s a grove of acacias and palms over there; If I once can climb up, I’ll be sheltered and safe,— Most of all if I knew but a psalm or two. [_Clambers up._ Morning and evening are not alike; That text has been oft enough weighed and pondered. [_Seats himself comfortably._ How blissful to feel so uplifted in spirit! To think nobly is more than to know oneself rich. Only trust in him. He knows well what share Of the chalice of need I can bear to drain. He takes fatherly thought for my personal weal;— [_Casts a glance over the sea, and whispers with a sigh_: But economical—no, that he isn’t! SCENE THIRD. _Night. An encampment of Moroccan troops on the edge of the desert. Watch-fires, with SOLDIERS resting by them._ A SLAVE. [_Enters, tearing his hair._] Gone is the Emperor’s milk-white charger! ANOTHER SLAVE. [_Enters, rending his garments._] The Emperor’s sacred robes are stolen! AN OFFICER. [_Enters._] A hundred stripes upon the foot-soles For all who fail to catch the robber!