Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/421

Rh Up didst thou look, O woful duke! Thy mouth yet durst not ope, Certes for fear of finding there A t— d, instead of trope.

"Lie there, thou caitiff vile!" quoth Guise; "No shift is here to save thee: The casement it is shut likewise; Beneath my feet I have thee.

"If thou hast ought to speak, speak out." Then Lancastere did cry, "Know'st thou not me, nor yet thyself? Who thou, and who am I?

"Know'st thou not me, who (God be prais'd!) Have brawl'd and quarrell'd more, Than all the line of Lancastere, That battled heretofore?

"In senates fam'd for many a speech, And (what some awe must give ye, Tho' laid thus low beneath thy breech) Still of the council privy;

"Still of the duchy chancellor; Durante life, I have it; And turn, as now thou dost on me, Mine a—se on them that gave it."

But now the servants they rush'd in; And duke Nic. up leap'd he: "I will not cope against such odds, But, Guise! I'll fight with thee:

"To morrow with thee will I fight Under the green wood tree:" " No,