Could have conceived the culprit would have gone; There he sits upright in his seat, secure, As one whose conscience is correct and pure; 300 This rouses anger for the old offence, And scorn for all such seeming and pretence: So on this Hammond look’d our hero bold, Rememb’ring well that vile offence of old; And now he saw the rebel dared t’ intrude } Among the pure, the loyal, and the good; } The crime provoked his wrath, the folly stirr’d his blood. } Nor wonder was it if so strange a sight Caused joy with vengeance, terror with delight; Terror like this a tiger might create, } 310 A joy like that to see his captive state, } At once to know his force and then decree his fate. } Hammond, much praised by numerous friends, was come To read his lectures, so admired at home: Historic lectures, where he loved to mix His free plain hints on modern politics. Here, he had heard, that numbers had design, Their business finish’d, to sit down and dine; This gave him pleasure, for he judged it right To show by day, that he could speak at night. 320 Rash the design--for he perceived, too late, Not one approving friend beside him sate; The greater number, whom he traced around, Were men in black, and he conceived they frown’d. “I will not speak,” he thought; “no pearls of mine Shall be presented to this herd of swine;” Not this avail’d him, when he cast his eye On Justice Bolt; he could not fight, nor fly. He saw a man to whom he gave the pain, Which now he felt must be return’d again; 330 His conscience told him with what keen delight He, at that time, enjoy’d a stranger’s fright; That stranger now befriended--he alone, For all his insult, friendless, to atone; Now he could feel it cruel that a heart Should be distress’d, and none to take its part; “Though one by one,” said Pride, “I would defy } Much greater men, yet meeting every eye, } I do confess a fear--but he will pass me by.” } Vain hope! the Justice saw the foe’s distress, 340 With exultation he could not suppress; He felt the fish was hook’d--and so forbore, In playful spite, to draw it to the shore. Hammond look’d round again; but none were near, With friendly smile, to still his growing fear; But all above him seem’d a solemn row Of priests and deacons, so they seem’d below; He wonder’d who his right-hand man might be-- Vicar of Holt cum Uppingham was he; And who the man of that dark frown possess’d-- 350 Rector of Bradley and of Barton-west; “A pluralist,” he growl’d--but check’d the word, That warfare might not, by his zeal, be stirr’d. But now began the man above to show Fierce looks and threat’nings to the man below;