"Belovéd brother Saul," so Shimei spoke, "_I_ mourned at Stephen's funeral to-day. Not loud, you know, but deep, my mourning was; Not loud, for I am modest, and my wish Was less to be seen than to see; but deep, For there was cause, to one that loved you, Saul, To be sincerely sad on your behalf. Incredible it seems, they spoke your name, Not, as might honor it, with hate and dread, But very ambiguously, to say the least. In fact, I fear you may be compromised, Unless you take prompt measures in the matter. Hark you, a certain orator stood up Who, after praising Stephen to his worth, Distinctly hinted Saul was looked upon As hopeful future pervert to their cause Predestined to fill Stephen's vacant room. The fellow founded on some prophecy Which, as I gathered, Stephen had put forth. Now this preposterous notion, with such folk, Is far more like to prosper, and thus be Noised undesirably, than you might guess, As a report injurious to your name. You will be tainted with disloyalty, In general esteem--to our great loss. "What I propose is that you strike a stroke So sudden and so ringing and so aimed As shall decisively and neatly nip This precious piece of prophecy in the bud, And put you out of reach of calumny. You have your warrant and commission; good, Use them at once, sleep not upon them; now, This very night--for domiciliary work Like what you purpose, night is the best time, Birds to their nests, you know, at night come home-- This very night, take you a trusty band And make a bold foray at Bethany. There Stephen lived, and there a hotbed yet Thrives of this pestilent heresy. No place Fitter than the abode and vicinage Of your late overmatch in controversy To make first theatre of the exploits You aim at in this different field--field where, With odds so in your favor, you should win. Easier far, given the right support, to drag To dungeon and to death a hundred men Or praying women, all as tame as sheep, Than one impracticable fellow like That Stephen manage in fair controversy!