THE DEAN OF SANTIAGO
45
Now spake the Pope in anger, struck the bell,
“I call my guards to put this beggar out.”
The door swings open, Hussein enters quick,
“What, you again?”—he rises in his doubt.
He gazes round, his Palace slips away,
A shadow-palace floating from his eyes.
“What ho! my guards,” his voice falls into tears.
He rubs his lids to rid them of surprise.
“Hussein,” the student smiles, “go tell the cook
One capon only, and one cup of wine,
And bring this ingrate's mule beside the door—
The Dean of Santiago will not dine.”
