Vain are your arms, and vainer your defence, Against the eternal doom of Providence: Mine is the ungrateful maid by heaven designed; Mercy she would not give, nor mercy shall she find.-- At this the former tale again he told With thundering tone, and dreadful to behold: Sunk were their hearts with horror of the crime, Nor needed to be warned a second time, But bore each other back; some knew the face, } And all had heard the much-lamented case } Of him who fell for love, and this the fatal place. } And now the infernal minister advanced, Seized the due victim, and with fury lanced Her back, and piercing through her inmost heart, Drew backward, as before, the offending part. The reeking entrails next he tore away, And to his meagre mastiffs made a prey. The pale assistants on each other stared, With gaping mouths for issuing words prepared; The still-born sounds upon the palate hung, And died imperfect on the faultering tongue. The fright was general; but the female band (A helpless train) in more confusion stand: With horror shuddering, on a heap they run, } Sick at the sight of hateful justice done; } For conscience rung the alarm, and made the case their own. } So, spread upon a lake, with upward eye, A plump of fowl behold their foe on high; They close their trembling troop; and all attend On whom the sowsing eagle will descend. But most the proud Honoria feared the event, And thought to her alone the vision sent. Her guilt presents to her distracted mind } Heaven's justice, Theodore's revengeful kind, } And the same fate to the same sin assigned; } Already sees herself the monster's prey, And feels her heart and entrails torn away. 'Twas a mute scene of sorrow, mixed with fear; Still on the table lay the unfinished cheer: The knight and hungry mastiffs stood around, The mangled dame lay breathless on the ground; When on a sudden, re-inspired with breath, Again she rose, again to suffer death; Nor stayed the hell-hounds, nor the hunter stayed, But followed, as before, the flying maid: The avenger took from earth the avenging sword, And mounting, light as air, his sable steed he spurred; The clouds dispelled, the sky resumed her light, And nature stood recovered of her fright. But fear, the last of ills, remained behind, And horror heavy sat on every mind. Nor Theodore encouraged more his feast, But sternly looked, as hatching in his breast Some deep design; which when Honoria viewed, The fresh impulse her former fright renewed: She thought herself the trembling dame who fled, And him the grisly ghost that spurred the infernal steed: The more dismayed, for when the guests withdrew, } Their courteous host, saluting all the crew, } Regardless passed her o'er, nor graced with kind adieu. }