Of the holy man. "O depth of guile!
He blindly guzzles and guttles,
"While—who is it dresses the food and pours
The liquor? Some fiend—I make no doubt—
In likeness of—which of the loathly brutes?
An ape! Where hides he? No bull that gores,
No bear that hugs—'t is the mock and flout
Of an ape, fiend's face that suits.
"So—out with thee, creature, wherever thou hidest!
I charge thee, by virtue of ... right do I judge!