XXXVI.
Williams replied, "Thou Priest of Beelzebub!
Chepian, I mean, if that's his better name—
I come not hither to assume thy robe
Pontifical, or emulate thy fame;
Or yet to trouble, with the warrior's club,
Such saints as thou and thy dark demon claim;
For be but peaceful, and I let thee still
Worship thy manit dark, as suits thy will.
XXXVII.
"But here I sit, to prove thee to thy face
A foul impostor, and thy charms a cheat;—
To ope the eyes of a deluded race,
Strangely misled by thine infernal feat,
That in thy foe they confidence may place,
And him, in friendship, as a neighbor greet;
So try thy spells, thine utmost powers essay,
And if I blench, be thine the victor's day."
XXXVIII.
"Die, then!" he said, and down with fury cast
The magic casket, and wide open flew
Its fur-lined cavern. Forth his volumes vast,
Fold following fold, the monstrous serpent drew;
Flashed on his burnished scales, the sunbeams past
Along his flexuous form in many a hue;
Proud of his freedom, o'er the glade he rolled,
And mocked the rainbow in his hues of gold.
XXXIX.
High towered his head; in many an ample fold
He coiled his volumes, spires o'er spires ascending
And lessening as they rose and inward rolled;
His rustling scales, their various colors blending,
