220 So 'scapes the insulting fire his narrow jail, And makes small outlets into open air: There the fierce winds his tender force assail, And beat him downward to his first repair. 221 The winds, like crafty courtesans, withheld His flames from burning, but to blow them more: And every fresh attempt he is repell'd With faint denials weaker than before. 222 And now no longer letted[49] of his prey, He leaps up at it with enraged desire: O'erlooks the neighbours with a wide survey, And nods at every house his threatening fire. 223 The ghosts of traitors from the bridge descend, With bold fanatic spectres to rejoice: About the fire into a dance they bend, And sing their sabbath notes with feeble voice. 224 Our guardian angel saw them where they sate Above the palace of our slumbering king: He sigh'd, abandoning his charge to fate, And, drooping, oft look'd back upon the wing. 225 At length the crackling noise and dreadful blaze Call'd up some waking lover to the sight; And long it was ere he the rest could raise, Whose heavy eyelids yet were full of night. 226 The next to danger, hot pursued by fate, Half-clothed, half-naked, hastily retire: And frighted mothers strike their breasts too late, For helpless infants left amidst the fire. 227 Their cries soon waken all the dwellers near; Now murmuring noises rise in every street: The more remote run stumbling with their fear, And in the dark men jostle as they meet. 228 So weary bees in little cells repose; But if night-robbers lift the well-stored hive, An humming through their waxen city grows, And out upon each other's wings they drive. 229 Now streets grow throng'd and busy as by day: Some run for buckets to the hallow'd quire: Some cut the pipes, and some the engines play; And some more bold mount ladders to the fire. 230 In vain: for from the east a Belgian wind His hostile breath through the dry rafters sent; The flames impell'd soon left their foes behind, And forward with a wanton fury went. 231 A quay of fire ran all along the shore, And lighten'd all the river with a blaze: The waken'd tides began again to roar, And wondering fish in shining waters gaze. 232 Old father Thames raised up his reverend head, But fear'd the fate of Simois would return: Deep in his ooze he sought his sedgy bed, And shrunk his waters back into his urn. 233 The fire, meantime, walks in a broader gross; To either hand his wings he opens wide: He wades the streets, and straight he reaches cross, And plays his longing flames on the other side.