Page:Stories from Old English Poetry-1899.djvu/133

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FRIAR BACON’S BRASS HEAD.
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other matter of which I come to inquire of thee. Thou hast a huge head, they tell me, of which thou makest a familiar, that tells thee strange secrets, and foretells events that can affect the fate of nations. Tell me of this. On the faith of a priest and a gentleman, I ask but for love of science. And” (here the priest’s voice sank lower) “thou hast heard that Pope Urban grows feeble. It is in all men’s mouths in Rome, that the cardinal-legate of England will be the next high pontiff of the Church. I trust thy honor in telling this, and tell thee also, that if Clement of Narbonne be made the Holy Father of the Church, it will be his first mission to do away with the narrow bigotry regarding science, and with his own royal hand confer honors on those who make Learning their mistress. Now do you trust my friendship, good Friar Bacon?”

“My lord Cardinal, I do trust you,” answered Bacon, whose keen eye had closely scanned the features of the priest while he had spoken. “But it becometh us men of letters to be mistrustful. We remember that many who were not heretics, have been invited into the presence of the Inquisition, and have not returned from thence. But I trust your word, and I will betray to you my mystery.”

Rising hastily, the friar drew aside the green