We know not here, and purple eve did glow
With shadows soft as beds of fallen roses,
And he hath spoken in clear tones until
He built up all again, and glory's home
Grew glorious as ever. Then his voice
Would sudden deepen into holy thought
And mournful sweet philosophy, 'till all
The air grew musical and my soul good.
How well do I remember it.
Yes! Milton was
My honour'd tutor and my loving friend.

_Crom._ Came not his thoughts here often?--

_Arth._ Latterly,
He would speak much of England, and of change
Political, and coming strife and battles--

_Crom._ Ay! battles--
Hast thou not a sword, young man?
Thou should'st be friend of righteousness to know
That zealous patriot and pure-minded man,
Of whom thou spakest; surely he hath taught thee
More than mere classic lore--wisdom and faith
To help this stricken people from the thrall
Of their idolatrous, self-seeking rulers?

_Arth._ Fair sir! I know you not enough for this:
I am a stranger to these hapless broils
Between your sovereign and some of you.