"Foul deeds are here!" and, saying this, he took
The clerk, whose conscience, in her cold-fit, shook.
His pocket then was emptied on the place;
All saw his guilt; all witness'd his disgrace:
250
He fell, he fainted; not a groan, a look,
Escaped the culprit; 'twas a final stroke—
A death-wound never to be heal'd—a fall
That all had witness'd, and amazed were all.
As he recover'd, to his mind it came,