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Yes, nobly has he shunn'd the degradation Of slavish punishment.

It was a lofty mind in a rude state Of wild distorted virtue; cross the fancy It stalks, a gloomy, dark, gigantic shade, Angel or fiend we know not.

And Constantine is serv'd by men like these!

Seeing that of this crime our royal master Doth clearly stand acquitted, by your word, Most mighty Mahomet, we are permitted To state his wishes.

No, ambassadors; I have already said I hear no more Unless ye yield the city,—Leave ye have In safety to return.—You and your chief O'er a volcano's thinly-bridged gulf Have ta'en your stand, and the dire crash is near.

And with our chief in that tremendous ruin, If it must be, we will sink lovingly.