Who saw the fellow fetch his frenzied leap, And saw his watchman hold him back in vain; He, Shimei, would not fail him at the pinch, To swear him clear of any touch of blame. The soldier, to this word, had little spoke, Nothing that might import his secret thought, Heed giving in blank silence, ominous, Or hopeful, for his tempter, dubious which. Now he spoke, saying: "Glibly dost thou talk, Making the task light, laughable the risk. Know it is perilous business, this of thine. Yon Paul appears a prisoner of note, Whom our centurion, for his reasons, treats With favor"--"For his reasons, yea; well said," Interposed Shimei; "but such reasons fail Promptly when the purse fails that yields them. End Already, as I know, was reached with Paul, When he at Sidon bought his leave to land, Hoping a rescue." "But," the soldier said, "Paul seems indeed to be a worthy man." "A wise head, thou," the wily Jew replied; "'Seems,'--thou hast once more hit it in that word! Fair-seeming truly, rotten at the core." "However that may be," the guard rejoined, "Rotten or sound the man, it were a deed, A bold deed, deed of risk and price, to do What thou requirest." 'Willing,' Shimei thought, 'Willing, but greedy; bid for higher pay! Bait him his fill, no time for higgling now.' He said: "Bold enterprises to the bold. Yea, there is risk; no need to make it small; It is a soldier I am talking with. But I will amply match the risk with wage. Thy peril stint not thou, I not thy pay. Here is a scrip stuffed out with yellow gold, Test it for weight, thou earnest it all this night." The soldier had but meant to parley: now This toying with temptation by the touch, Added to his long dalliance through the ear, Proved penetrant, seductive, so beyond His forethought, that he stood amazed, appalled, Listening, to feel how much he was enticed. He might have yielded to the sorcery, But Stephen, with an instant instinct wise, Sudden sprang, speechless, imminent, to his feet. The soldier at the apparition took A fine air of indignant virtue on. "Rascal," said he, "I have trolled thee well along From point to point and let thee talk and talk, And my palm tickle with the touch of gold, Or counterfeit of gold, thou counterfeit Of man! Thou hast shown thyself for what thou art. Thy proffered bribe I keep for proof of thee; But thou, thou goest with me my prisoner. A night in irons down in the deepest hold May give thee waking dreams thy morrow's chance With the centurion hardly will dispel!" Therewith he stalked off Shimei, stunned to dumb And dizzy, with that deafening crack of doom.