Page:Stories from Old English Poetry-1899.djvu/142

120 Amidst the dire noise Friar Bacon started up and rushed to his doorway. At his feet was the work of seven years a blasted ruin. Groveling among the fragments lay the wretched Miles, uttering loud screams of fear.

“Peace, fool!” commanded the friar, raising him to his feet. “Silence! and tell me how this happened. Did the Head speak ?”

“Aye, sir, he spake,” answered Miles, blubbering loudly. “But he said naught worth noting. Didst thou not say it would utter strange words of learning? Yet it said at first only two words.”

“What words?”

“Why, at first it said, ‘Time is,’ and I, knowing that was no news of consequence, waited for something better before I woke thee. Again it said, ‘Time was,’ and then with a loud cry it said, ‘Time is past,’ and toppled over, giving my head many a hard bump with the fragments.”

“Wretch! idiot, villain!” cried the friar, seizing the frightened man, as if he would have strangled him. “Thy foolishness has cost me the work of years, the hopes of a life-time. No words can reveal what thy idiocy has lost me. But go, leave my sight, miserable vagabond! I could kill myself in shame for having trusted thee,” and, releasing his hold of Miles, the friar sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. [sic]