When I least looked for it—yea—thus cometh Death.
No hope. I am named. But ah! thou bloody tiger,
Who slewest her that bare thee, now I that trained thee
Might . . . yea, I might.—The whole world for a bait
Dangles upon the hook, and I refuse.
I would not; nay, I could not . . . What then do?
Stand firm? with my poor palsied limbs,
Stand firm? budge not a hair, as Burrus put it? 630
—So take rank in the monster’s tale of murders:
My gravity in his comedy of crime: