The renegade, and freely may’st thou speak
To all that Julian asks. Is not the yoke
Of Mecca easy, and its burden light?...
Spain hath not found it so, the Goth replied,
And groaning, turn’d away his countenance.
Count Julian knit his brow, and stood awhile
Regarding him with meditative eye
In silence. Thou art honest too! he cried;
Why ’twas in quest of such a man as this
That the old Grecian search’d by lantern light