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 Cromwell. If it, indeed, be true That yon celestial rays illume thy soul With their mysterious light, and to thine eyes Impart the power of prophetic vision—
 * [He pauses and seems to hesitate.

Manasseh [prostrating himself. Master, what would you at your servant's hands? Cromwell [lowering his voice. The future. Manasseh [rising and drawing himself up. What! dar'st thou, uncircumcised, Lift up thine eyes to that bewildering height? Wouldst thou, despite the barriers of flame, Behold unveiled yon stars, the golden sand, The diamond dust, which through the firmament's Unfathomable depths roam ceaselessly? The secret of the heavens thou wouldst solve— Abode of glory, mystic sanctuary, That laboratory girt about with flame, Where sits Jehovah, who doth ne'er relax His grasp upon the axis of the spheres And the unfailing compass? Thou wouldst pierce The threefold elements, air, water, fire, The threefold veil that doth enshroud the skies, The threefold wall that doth surround the world! And know what suns the fiery letters be Wherewith at midnight God's tiara gleams! Thou, read the future! Couldst thou, godless man, Endure the sight of the great mystery, And live? O thou, whose thoughts are ever fixed On things of earth, what hast thou done, in sooth, In all thy life, that thou shouldst seek that power? What mystery unveiled, what test endured? Behold my pallid brow; I have attained Tobias's great age. I've gone my way