Now they led forth the criminal, who soft behind them crept,
He flatter’d, play’d the hypocrite, fell on his knees, and wept;
He tried to kiss Thor’s garment: at this demeanour base
The hero blush’d with anger, and struck him on the face.
“Avaunt! thou miserable wretch!” said Thor, with fearful cry;
“Thy abjectness more wrath excites, than did thy treachery.”
“Dear shalt thou pay for this,” thought Lok, “thy pride one day be cool’d;
The bowstring’s pulled so frequently, it snaps at length: but hold.
I must refrain from menace, be meek and humble here,
And all my schemes of vengeance till fitter time defer.”