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! -