Could not refute, from whom he could not run:
For Conscience lived within; she slept, ’tis true,
But when she waked, her pangs awaken’d too.
She bade him think; and, as he thought, a sigh
Of deep remorse precluded all reply. 320
No soft insulting smile, no bitter jest, }
Could this commanding power of strength divest, }
But with reluctant fear her terrors he confess’d. }
His weak advisers he could scorn or slight, }
But not their cause; for, in their folly’s spite, }