Ernestus ceas’d.  The listening senate heard;
    On every face derision’s smile appear’d. 
    Yet some less harden’d bosoms heav’d a sigh, }
    Like the faint breezes of an evening sky, }
    That curl the rippled wave and on its surface die. }
    Reproach, familiar to the monarch’s ear,
    Might move contempt, but ne’er excited fear: 
    It cross’d his mind, like streams of melted snow, }
    That o’er a cavern’d rock’s cold surface flow, }
    But soften not their stony bed below. }
    His haughty bosom with impatience burn’d,
    He smiled contemptuous, and in brief return’d—­
    “What! hast thou then exhausted all thy store
    Of sounding words? and is the tempest o’er? 
    Haste, noble Trollio, fetch my guards, and send
    Th’ incautious hero to his wiser friend!”

      Swift as the word obsequious Trollio speeds,
    And to the secret hall the soldiers leads. 
    The youth, resign’d, bow’d down his thoughtful head,
    And calmly silent follow’d where they led. 
    “Such be the fate of all,” the monarch cried,
    “Who, born to meanness, swell with worthless pride;
    Who, glad with nobler men to be preferr’d,
    Rise, by officious guilt, above the vulgar herd,
    Obtrude their ready service on the great,
    And deem their talents fit to rule a state! 
    Yes, my brave friends, I meant this recreant fool
    But as a means, a momentary tool. 
    To push my purpose to a readier end,
    Then to the dust my worn-out weapon send.—­
    But leave we this; far weightier themes arise: 
    Th’ occasion told all waste of words denies. 
    In my own realm, our trusty spies report,
    While Christiern lingers in a Swedish court,
    Once more Sedition rears her batter’d crest,
    And plants her snakes in every loyal breast. 
    Wide o’er the realm the growing tumults swell,
    And ask immediate force their rage to quell. 
    Let valiant Bernheim, with a chosen band,
    Use all his speed to reach his native land;
    There countermining each insidious plot
    By hostile Craft and Treachery begot,
    Prepare my way; while I thro’ Sweden lead
    A wider army, with inferior speed,
    And, as I pass, the trembling cities awe,
    Display my terrors, and confirm my law;
    Then, entering Denmark, pour my eager host,
    An unexpected torrent, on the coast. 
    Thou, Trollio, strait to Soren Norbi send,
    Our faithful subject, and unfailing friend;
    Bid him with speed his gallant fleet dispose,
    To man our ports against invading foes: 
    (My own brave troops will guard the conquests made,
    Who every province, every town pervade)
    Thyself to Norbi constant help afford,
    And with thy prudence guide brave Otho’s sword,
    And you, my friends, to second each design. 
    Your arts, your counsels, and your arms combine.”