No More Learning

_Abbot_. Thou dost not mean to menace me?

_Man_. Not I!
I simply tell thee peril is at hand,
And would preserve thee.

_Abbot_. What dost thou mean?

_Man_. Look there!
What dost thou see?

_Abbot_. Nothing.

_Man_. Look there, I say,
And steadfastly;--now tell me what thou seest? 60

_Abbot_.
That which should shake me,--but I fear it not:
I see a dusk and awful figure rise,
Like an infernal god, from out the earth;
His face wrapt in a mantle, and his form
Robed as with angry clouds: he stands between
Thyself and me--but I do fear him not.

_Man_. Thou hast no cause--he shall not harm thee--but
His sight may shock thine old limbs into palsy.
I say to thee--Retire!

_Abbot_. And I reply--
Never--till I have battled with this fiend:-- 70
What doth he here?

_Man_. Why--aye--what doth he here?
I did not send for him,--he is unbidden.

_Abbot_. Alas! lost Mortal! what with guests like these
Hast thou to do? I tremble for thy sake:
Why doth he gaze on thee, and thou on him?
Ah! he unveils his aspect: on his brow
The thunder-scars are graven; from his eye[169]
Glares forth the immortality of Hell--
Avaunt!