The Wife was seized, when void of all alarm
And vainly trusting to a footman’s arm.
Death in his hand, the Husband stood in view,
Commanding silence, and obedience too;
Forced to his carriage, sinking at his side,
Madly he drove her—Vengeance was his guide.
All in that ruin Villars had prepared,
And meant her fate and sorrow to have shared; 450
There he design’d they should for ever dwell,
The weeping pair of a monastic cell.