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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"The Saint's Tragedy"

We passed it by, as matter of no moment
Upon the sudden coming of your guests.
Eliz. No moment! 'Tis enough to have driven him forth--
And that's enough to damn me: I'll not chide you--
I can see nothing but my loss; I'll to him--
I'll go in sackcloth, bathe his feet with tears--
And know nor sleep nor food till I am forgiven--
And you must with me, ladies. Come and find him.
[Exeunt.]

SCENE V

A Hall in the Castle. In the background a Group of diseased and
deformed Beggars; Conrad entering, Elizabeth comes forward to meet
him.
Con. What dost thou, daughter?
Eliz. Ah, my honoured master!
That name speaks pardon, sure.
Con. What dost thou, daughter?
Eliz. I have been washing these poor people's feet.
Con. A wise humiliation.
Eliz. So I meant it--
And use it as a penance for my pride;
And yet, alas, through my own vulgar likings
Or stubborn self-conceit, 'tis none to me.
I marvel how the Saints thus tamed their spirits:
Sure to be humbled by such toil, but proves,
Not cures, our lofty mind.
Con. Thou speakest well--
The knave who serves unto another's needs
Knows himself abler than the man who needs him;
And she who stoops, will not forget, that stooping
Implies a height to stoop from.


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