Could like the most subservient feel afraid:
And though a wife might not dispute the will
Of her liege lord, she could prevent it still.
The morning came, and Clubb prepared to ride
With a smart boy, his servant, and his guide;
When, ere he mounted on his ready steed,
Arrived a letter, and he stopped to read.
“My friend,” he read, “our journey I decline,
A heart too tender for such strife is mine;
Yours is the triumph, be you so inclined;