Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/329

Rh


 * And said: "Don't tell me what you want, Eban;
 * The Emperor is now in a huge rage,—
 * 'Tis nine to one he'll give you the rattan!
 * Let us away!" Away together ran
 * The plain-dress'd sage and spangled blackamoor,
 * Nor rested till they stood to cool, and fan,
 * And breathe themselves at th' Emperor's chamber door,

When Eban thought he heard a soft imperial snore.


 * That's Majesty was in a raving fit."
 * "He dreams," said Hum, "or I have ever lied,
 * That he is tearing you, sir, bit by bit."
 * "He's not asleep, and you have little wit,"
 * Replied the Page, "that little buzzing noise,
 * Whatever your palmistry may make of it,
 * Comes from a play-thing of the Emperor's choice,

From a Man-Tiger-Organ, prettiest of his toys."


 * Elfinan's back was turnd, but, ne'ertheless,
 * Both, prostrate on the carpet, ear by ear,
 * Crept silently, and waited in distress,
 * Knowing the Emperor's moody bitterness;
 * Eban especially, who on the floor 'gan
 * Tremble and quake to death,—he feared less