XCIII.

The tumult grew; an universal cough Convulsed the skies, as during a debate, When Castlereagh has been up long enough (Before he was first minister of state, I mean--the _slaves hear now_); some cried "Off, off!" As at a farce; till, grown quite desperate, The Bard Saint Peter prayed to interpose (Himself an author) only for his prose.