"
"I gave you none," Murillo cried!
"But I have heard," the boy replied,
"What you to others said."
"And more than heard," in kinder tone,
The painter said; "'tis plainly shown
That you have profited."
"What (to his pupils) is his meed?
Reward or punishment?"
"Reward, reward!" they warmly cried,
(Sebastian's ear was bent
To catch the sounds he scarce believed,
But with imploring look received.)
"What shall it be?" They spoke of gold
And of a splendid dress;
But still unmoved Sebastian stood,
Silent and motionless.
"Speak!" said Murillo kindly; "choose
Your own reward--what shall it be?
Name what you wish, I'll not refuse:
Then speak at once and fearlessly."
"Oh! if I dared!"--Sebastian knelt
And feelings he could not control,
(But feared to utter even then)
With strong emotion, shook his soul.
"Courage!" his master said, and each
Essayed, in kind, half-whispered speech,
To soothe his overpow'ring dread.
He scarcely heard, till some one said,
"Sebastian--ask--you have your choice,
Ask for your _freedom_!"--At the word,
The suppliant strove to raise his voice:
At first but stifled sobs were heard,
And then his prayer--breathed fervently--
"Oh! master, make my _father_ free!"
"Him and thyself, my noble boy!"
Warmly the painter cried;
Raising Sebastian from his feet,
He pressed him to his side.
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