XXXVIII

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XXXVIII

Eban then usher’d in the learned Seer:

Elfinan’s back was turn’d, 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

A dose of senna-tea, or nightmare Gorgon,

Than the Emperor when he play’d on his Man-Tiger-Organ.