There stood a Hill not far whose griesly top / Belch'd fire and rowling smoak

I had never defrauded a man of a farthing, nor called him knave behind his back. But now the last rag that covered my nakedness had been torn from me. I was branded a blackleg, card-sharper, and murderer.

Yea, with gladness did they pæan, bowing low before my car, / In my ears their homage echoed from the sunrise to the star.

The attack was so utterly unlooked for, and delivered with such force, moreover, from the advantage of the step, that Tommy Coxen was knocked clean over, falling on his back with Seth on top of him.