That o'er a cavern'd rock's cold surface flow,

But soften not their stony bed below.

[Pg 32]

His haughty bosom with impatience burn'd,

He smiled contemptuous, and in brief return'd—

"What! hast thou then exhausted all thy store

Of sounding words? and is the tempest o'er?

Haste, noble Trollio, fetch my guards, and send

Th' incautious hero to his wiser friend!"

Swift as the word obsequious Trollio speeds,

And to the secret hall the soldiers leads.

The youth, resign'd, bow'd down his thoughtful head,

And calmly silent follow'd where they led.

"Such be the fate of all," the monarch cried,

"Who, born to meanness, swell with worthless pride;

Who, glad with nobler men to be preferr'd,

Rise, by officious guilt, above the vulgar herd,

Obtrude their ready service on the great,

And deem their talents fit to rule a state!

Yes, my brave friends, I meant this recreant fool

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