A little leave for silent tears, and Paul Said: "Bide ye here until the evenfall, Or some of you by turns as need of rest, Of food, of change, allows the privilege Of watching by this sacred dust asleep. I will meantime desire from Publius Permission to prepare her resting-place For Mary here upon the selfsame spot That she has hallowed for us by dying here; And we at set of sun will bury her." Now Publius had, with Sergius Paulus too, And Krishna--those, and the centurion-- Silently, in that silent time of tears, Retired; they with one instinct felt that here Were love and grief that needed privacy From witness even of moistened eyes like theirs. But Krishna went apart from all, and bowed Himself together motionless and wept. While those sat weeping, and these last withdrew Refraining not the sympathetic tear, A different scene passed elsewhere in the isle. Simon, the sorcerer, sought and found access To Felix and Drusilla and said to them: "I roused this night an hour before the dawn, My sleep disturbed with signs in dreams of you. Some secret prescience urged me out of doors, And I went wandering forth with no clear thought Whither, but felt my footsteps onward drawn, Until I gained an overlooking height Of hill, whence, ranging round me with mine eyes, I saw a dozen people more or less, Women as seemed with men, a motley train, Walking thus early, why I could not guess; They tended toward a hillock neighboring mine. I, heeding to be hid from them the while, Crept up as near them as I safely could. Paul was among them, chief, though not the guide As guide our worthy friend Sir Publius served. That Sergius Paulus, with his Indian friend, Krishna they call him, the centurion too, Were of the company; as for the rest, Count up the tale of Paul's companionship, They were all there. "After these reached the point Where they made pause, the first thing that befell Was Paul in menace lifting up those hands Of his and therewith muttering magic words. I could not hear them, but the tone I knew, As too I knew that gesture of the hands. I thought of how he conjured with his spell Of uncouth baleful words at Cæsarea! Paul got all seated; but one sat apart, The destined victim of his wicked wiles, A woman she, that Mary Magdalené, Like an accused impaled to make defence. Paul seemed to say to her, 'Speak, if thou wilt,' Whereon the woman with a pleading voice, But hopeless, breaking into moan at last, Made her apology--of course in vain. The spell that Paul had cast upon her wrought, And she sank lifeless at his feet. So once A spell from Peter at Jerusalem With Ananias and Sapphira wrought Killing them out of hand."