(suddenly changing.)
Oh! what a fool is the brute multitude,
To shout “a God!” before this hollow image!
Ha! ha! ha! things are well balanced here;—
The evening’s groan repays the morning’s boast.
Vice were too humble, but for scenes like these,
And hopeless Villainy, lacking such solace,
Would turn an anchorite for very sadness!
Fred. Thou tool of wrath, which, while I grasp, I shudder,
Though one wild moment’s sudden agony