Renounce their civic fetters for a throne;
For horses barter kingdoms not their own;
And find too late,—too soon, perhaps, by far,—
The stage a half-way step from bench to bar.
That Queen, in satin train, was trained in camlet,
And he carves Ham who nightly cuts up Hamlet;
The frail Jane Shore perchance is no impostor;
While Gloster's Duke by day serves double Gloster;
And 'tis but heaping Pelion on Ossa,
If Ross, the barber, shines as Barbarossa.