Tales | Page 4

that to see his captive state,?At once to know his force and then decree his fate.
Hammond, much praised by numerous friends, was come?To read his lectures, so admired at home;?Historic lectures, where he loved to mix?His free plain hints on modern politics:?Here, he had heard, that numbers had design,?Their business finish'd, to sit down and dine;?This gave him pleasure, for he judged it right?To show by day that he could speak at night.?Rash the design--for he perceived, too late,?Not one approving friend beside him sate;?The greater number, whom he traced around,?Were men in black, and he conceived they frown'd.?"I will not speak," he thought; "no pearls of mine?Shall be presented to this herd of swine;"?Not this avail'd him, when he cast his eye?On Justice Bolt; he could not fight, nor fly:?He saw a man to whom he gave the pain,?Which now he felt must be return'd again;?His conscience told him with what keen delight?He, at that time, enjoy'd a stranger's fright;?That stranger now befriended--he alone,?For all his insult, friendless, to atone;?Now he could feel it cruel that a heart?Should be distress'd, and none to take its part;?"Though one by one," said Pride, "I would defy?Much greater men, yet meeting every eye,?I do confess a fear--but he will pass me by."
Vain hope! the Justice saw the foe's distress,?With exultation he could not suppress;?He felt the fish was hook'd--and so forbore,?In playful spite to draw it to the shore.?Hammond look'd round again; but none were near,?With friendly smile to still his growing fear;?But all above him seem'd a solemn row?Of priests and deacons, so they seem'd below;?He wonder'd who his right-hand man might be -?Vicar of Holt cum Uppingham was he;?And who the man of that dark frown possess'd -?Rector of Bradley and of Barton-west;?"A pluralist," he growl'd--but check'd the word,?That warfare might not, by his zeal, be stirr'd.
But now began the man above to show?Fierce looks and threat'nings to the man below;?Who had some thoughts his peace by flight to seek -?But how then lecture, if he dar'd not speak! -
Now as the Justice for the war prepared,?He seem'd just then to question if he dared:?"He may resist, although his power be small,?And growing desperate may defy us all;?One dog attack, and he prepares for flight -?Resist another, and he strives to bite;?Nor can I say, if this rebellious cur?Will fly for safety, or will scorn to stir."?Alarm'd by this, he lash'd his soul to rage,?Burn'd with strong shame, and hurried to engage.
As a male turkey straggling on the green,?When by fierce harriers, terriers, mongrels seen,?He feels the insult of the noisy train?And skulks aside, though moved by much disdain;?But when that turkey, at his own barn-door,?Sees one poor straying puppy and no more,?(A foolish puppy who had left the pack,?Thoughtless what foe was threat'ning at his back)?He moves about, as ship prepared to sail,?He hoists his proud rotundity of tail,?The half-seal'd eyes and changeful neck he shows,?Where, in its quick'ning colours, vengeance glows;?From red to blue the pendent wattles turn,?Blue mix'd with red, as matches when they burn;?And thus th' intruding snarler to oppose,?Urged by enkindling wrath, he gobbling goes.
So look'd our hero in his wrath, his cheeks?Flush'd with fresh fires and glow'd in tingling streaks,?His breath by passion's force awhile restrain'd,?Like a stopp'd current greater force regain'd;?So spoke, so look'd he, every eye and ear?Were fix'd to view him, or were turn'd to hear.
"My friends, you know me, you can witness all,?How, urged by passion, I restrain my gall;?And every motive to revenge withstand -?Save when I hear abused my native land.
"Is it not known, agreed, confirm'd, confess'd,?That, of all people, we are govern'd best??We have the force of monarchies; are free,?As the most proud republicans can be;?And have those prudent counsels that arise?In grave and cautious aristocracies;?And live there those, in such all-glorious state.?Traitors protected in the land they hate??Rebels, still warring with the laws that give?To them subsistence?--Yes, such wretches live.
"Ours is a Church reformed, and now no more?Is aught for man to mend or to restore;?'Tis pure in doctrines, 'tis correct in creeds,?Has nought redundant, and it nothing needs;?No evil is therein--no wrinkle, spot,?Stain, blame, or blemish: --I affirm there's not.
"All this you know--now mark what once befell,?With grief I bore it, and with shame I tell:?I was entrapp'd--yes, so it came to pass,?'Mid heathen rebels, a tumultuous class;?Each to his country bore a hellish mind,?Each like his neighbour was of cursed kind;?The land that nursed them, they blasphemed; the laws,?Their sovereign's glory, and their country's cause:?And who their mouth, their master-fiend, and who?Rebellion's oracle?--You, catiff, you!"
He spoke, and standing stretch'd his mighty arm,?And fix'd the Man of Words, as by a charm.?"How raved that railer! Sure some hellish power?Restrain'd my tongue in that delirious hour,?Or I had hurl'd the shame and vengeance due?On him, the