XI.

Yet was not Conrad thus by Nature sent To lead the guilty--Guilt's worse instrument-- 250 His soul was changed, before his deeds had driven Him forth to war with Man and forfeit Heaven. Warped by the world in Disappointment's school, In words too wise--in conduct _there_ a fool; Too firm to yield, and far too proud to stoop, Doomed by his very virtues for a dupe, He cursed those virtues as the cause of ill, And not the traitors who betrayed him still; Nor deemed that gifts bestowed on better men Had left him joy, and means to give again. 260 Feared--shunned--belied--ere Youth had lost her force, He hated Man too much to feel remorse, And thought the voice of Wrath a sacred call, To pay the injuries of some on all. He knew himself a villain--but he deemed The rest no better than the thing he seemed; And scorned the best as hypocrites who hid Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did. He knew himself detested, but he knew The hearts that loathed him, crouched and dreaded too. 270 Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike exempt From all affection and from all contempt: His name could sadden, and his acts surprise; But they that feared him dared not to despise: Man spurns the worm, but pauses ere he wake The slumbering venom of the folded snake: The first may turn, but not avenge the blow; The last expires, but leaves no living foe; Fast to the doomed offender's form it clings, And he may crush--not conquer--still it stings![202] 280