’Gainst Belgraves, Colquhouns, Wilberforces![110]
Though hunted down, thou would’st not yield;
Though trodden on, didst keep the field.
Thus Witherington, in doleful dumps,
For lack of legs, fought stout on stumps!
And could’st thou, pertinacious Bradley,
But maul these mutton heads most sadly,
Soon might thy wig (the people staring)
All in a chariot take an airing![111]
Led on by chieftains so redoubted,