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“Truly, O king, thou sayëst, that thy heart
Hardened against us is, as even the stone:
Else had this miracle been proof to thee
That of a verity from God we come,
And his command have spoken. By what power
Thy sorcerers wrought, but darkly can I guess;
For, in the secret lore of Egypt, I,
Deeper than they, was taught: and in the face
Of all I look, and challenge give, to tell
How this they did; or if at all they know
Why, or whence, came the marvel they have done....
Spirits there be, O king, who, for bad ends,
Sights most prodigious, either by themselves,
Or through man's hand, exhibit. Such, myself,
But yester-eve, did witness; wonderments

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Surpassing all belief; and which to tell,
Were madman to be reckoned. Of like sort,
Though in degree far less, even now, methinks,
By Spirits were wrought; these men, unconsciously,
Their ministers; else would they answer me,
Saying, by rule of magic they had worked;
And reasons had, why so this thing had been,
And still again would be,—same means pursued.
But they are silent all; for nought they know
How from their staffs came serpents; why not wolves,
Lynxes, or bears; or any monstrous thing,
In the old times fabled.”
“And how knowëst thou,
Bold Israelite,” cried Mascron, irefully,
“Wherefore from that man's staff a dragon came;
And not a bull, a dog, a crocodile,
Or a poor rat? or why came aught at all?”