Who pass’d a thousand galling insults by,
For one kind glance of that ambiguous eye.
P. Well! time, perhaps, might to the coldest heart
Some gentle thought of one so fond impart; 90
And pride itself has often favour shown
To what it governs, and can call its own.
F. Thus were they placed, when to the village came
That lordly stranger, whom I need not name;
Known since too well, but then as rich and young,
Untried his prowess, and his crimes unsung.