Now comes their turn to treat the fool
With jeers, contempt, and ridicule.
Laugh’d at on all sides—and to know
And feel I have deserv’d the blow!
Undone by mine own discontent!—
But ah! too late I do repent.
Forc’d now in poverty to roam,
I soon must quit this quiet home;
And where with thee, poor Kate! to fly?—
Oh! I could lay me down and die!