The bright hope that he brought in coming, sprung From grateful recollection of the grace He found, that morning, in the Roman's eyes, Was promptly damped to deep dejection now. The chiliarch met him with a cold and sour Severity of aspect that repelled, Beyond the youth's capacity--unbuoyed, For this occasion, with approving sense Of well-advised attempt at least, if vain-- To front it with unruffled brow. Abashed He stood, confused; the blood rushed to his face; His tongue clung to his mouth's roof; and in all He less looked like that youthful innocence Which won the Roman so in his soft mood, Than like the conscious guilt, uncovered now, In Shimei's slant insinuation shown. The chiliarch by reaction was relapsed Into his sternest temper of disdain Embittered by suspicious cynicism; Apt sequel of the interview prolonged With Shimei, and the final passionate Ejection of that Hebrew from the fort. He now awaiting Shimei, summoned back Once more, to be to Cæsarea sent, Here was that Stephen--despicable he Too, doubtless, like his despicable race! Such was the prompt involuntary set, Inhospitable, of the chiliarch's thought, For welcome of the youth before him there. To Stephen's stammering words about those men, And how they might be made to testify Of Shimei's desperate plot to murder Paul, Thus bringing Shimei to deservéd doom, The Roman tartly said: "Aye, aye, young sir, I think it like, seems altogether like. You Jews could, all of you, I doubt not, swear Of one another, brethren as ye be, Things damnable enough to crucify Ye all, and, what is more, for just that once, Swear true! But thanks, lad, I have had my fill At present of these proffered services." The manner was dismissory, more even Than were the words, and Stephen bowed to go. But his own manner in thus bowing changed, Although he spoke not, to such dignity, Recovered from his discomposure late, So instantly recovered, and so pure-- Adulterate in no trace with hardihood-- A dignity comportable with youth, While eloquent of virtue and high mind, And, like a robe, so beautifully worn Over a person and a gesture fair, That Claudius Lysias, cynic as he was That moment, seeing could not but admire.