Half-hang'd he seems, just from the tree 360 Escaped; a rope may sometimes break, Or men be cut down by mistake. He hath not virtue (in the school Of Vice bred up) to live by rule, Nor hath he sense (which none can doubt Who know the man) to live without. His life is a continued scene Of all that's infamous and mean; He knows not change, unless, grown nice And delicate, from vice to vice; 370 Nature design'd him, in a rage, To be the Wharton[147] of his age; But, having given all the sin, Forgot to put the virtues in. To run a horse, to make a match, To revel deep, to roar a catch, To knock a tottering watchman down, To sweat a woman of the town; By fits to keep the peace, or break it, In turn to give a pox, or take it; 380 He is, in faith, most excellent, And, in the word's most full intent, A true choice spirit, we admit; With wits a fool, with fools a wit: Hear him but talk, and you would swear Obscenity herself was there, And that Profaneness had made choice, By way of trump, to use his voice; That, in all mean and low things great, He had been bred at Billingsgate; 390 And that, ascending to the earth Before the season of his birth, Blasphemy, making way and room, Had mark'd him in his mother's womb. Too honest (for the worst of men In forms are honest, now and then) Not to have, in the usual way, His bills sent in; too great to pay: Too proud to speak to, if he meets The honest tradesman whom he cheats: 400 Too infamous to have a friend; Too bad for bad men to commend, Or good to name; beneath whose weight Earth groans; who hath been spared by Fate Only to show, on Mercy's plan, How far and long God bears with man. Such were the three, who, mocking sleep, At midnight sat, in counsel deep, Plotting destruction 'gainst a head Whose wisdom could not be misled; 410 Plotting destruction 'gainst a heart Which ne'er from honour would depart. 'Is he not rank'd amongst our foes? Hath not his spirit dared oppose Our dearest measures, made our name Stand forward on the roll of Shame Hath he not won the vulgar tribes, By scorning menaces and bribes, And proving that his darling cause Is, of their liberties and laws 420 To stand the champion? In a word, Nor need one argument be heard Beyond this to awake our zeal, To quicken our resolves, and steel Our steady souls to bloody bent, (Sure ruin to each dear intent, Each flattering hope) he, without fear, Hath dared to make the truth appear.' They said, and, by resentment taught, Each on revenge employ'd his thought; 430 Each, bent on mischief, rack'd his brain To her full stretch, but rack'd in vain; Scheme after scheme they brought to view; All were examined; none would do: When Fraud, with pleasure in her face, Forth issued from her hiding-place,