Then in some close-pent room it crept along, And, smouldering as it went, in silence fed; Till th' infant monster, with devouring strong, Walked boldly upright with exalted head. 219. Now, like some rich or mighty murderer, Too great for prison, which he breaks with gold; Who fresher for new mischiefs does appear, And dares the world to tax him with the old: 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 courtezans, with-held His flames from burning, but to blow them more; And, every fresh attempt, he is repelled With faint denials, weaker than before.[180] 222. And now, no longer letted 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 threatning 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.[181] 224. Our guardian angel saw them where they sate, Above the palace of our slumbering king; He sighed, abandoning his charge to fate, And, drooping, oft looked back upon the wing. 225. At length the crackling noise and dreadful blaze Called 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 thronged, and busy as by day; Some run for buckets to the hallowed 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, impelled, soon left their foes behind, And forward with a wanton fury went. 231. A key of fire ran all along the shore, And lightened all the river with a blaze;[182] The wakened tides began again to roar, And wondering fish in shining waters gaze. 232.