Chapter XI

Nay, do not push. Ah! Vengeance on you all!
’Tis lost. What greediness!--a vulgar crowd
Pressing and trampling forward--I shall fall.
Help! hear me! Here is hard cash: I’m not proud.
In vain. All lost. Before my eyes a cloud
Hides the great show, the scene becomes obscure.
I could have wished that chance had been allowed;
But no, the risk of limb outweighed the lure,--
And, taking all in all, the show’s a little poor.