Must rise with hope and sink with fear,
And all the while must feel most queer.
His tale when told—instead of going,
The Abbot looks most wondrous knowing;
And says "'Tis a falsehood,—a fable,
Which he to deny is not able,"
As with throbbings of conscience he shook;
For he could not then think of the frailest excuse,
Though he rummaged his brains—it was all of no use,
For his cunning and skill him forsook.