If insolence like this we bear, Where is our state? our office where? Farewell, all honours of our reign; Farewell, the neck-ennobling chain, Freedom's known badge o'er all the globe; Farewell, the solemn-spreading robe; 1080 Farewell, the sword; farewell, the mace; Farewell, all title, pomp, and place, Removed from men of high degree, (A loss to them, Crape, not to me) Banish'd to Chippenham or to Frome, Dulman once more shall ply the loom.' Crape, lifting up his hands and eyes, 'Dulman!--the loom!--at Chippenham!'--cries; 'If there be powers which greatness love, Which rule below, but dwell above, 1090 Those powers united all shall join To contradict the rash design. Sooner shall stubborn Will[241] lay down His opposition with his gown; Sooner shall Temple leave the road Which leads to Virtue's mean abode; Sooner shall Scots this country quit, And England's foes be friends to Pitt, Than Dulman, from his grandeur thrown, Shall wander outcast and unknown. 1100 Sure as that cane,' (a cane there stood Near to a table made of wood, Of dry fine wood a table made, By some rare artist in the trade, Who had enjoy'd immortal praise If he had lived in Homer's days) 'Sure as that cane, which once was seen In pride of life all fresh and green, The banks of Indus to adorn, Then, of its leafy honours shorn, 1110 According to exactest rule, Was fashion'd by the workman's tool, And which at present we behold Curiously polish'd, crown'd with gold, With gold well wrought; sure as that cane Shall never on its native plain Strike root afresh, shall never more Flourish in tawny India's shore, So sure shall Dulman and his race To latest times this station grace.' 1120 Dulman, who all this while had kept His eyelids closed as if he slept, Now looking steadfastly on Crape, As at some god in human shape: 'Crape, I protest, you seem to me To have discharged a prophecy: Yes--from the first it doth appear Planted by Fate, the Dulmans here Have always held a quiet reign, And here shall to the last remain. 1130 'Crape, they're all wrong about this ghost-- Quite on the wrong side of the post-- Blockheads! to take it in their head To be a message from the dead, For that by mission they design, A word not half so good as mine. Crape--here it is--start not one doubt-- A plot--a plot--I've found it out.' 'O God!' cries Crape, 'how bless'd the nation, Where one son boasts such penetration!' 1140 'Crape, I've not time to tell you now When I discover'd this, or how; To Stentor[242] go--if he's not there, His place let Bully Norton bear-- Our citizens to council call-- Let all meet--'tis the cause of all: Let the three witnesses attend, With allegations to befriend, To swear just so much, and no more, As we instruct them in before. 1150