213 As when some dire usurper[48] Heaven provides,
       To scourge his country with a lawless sway;
     His birth perhaps some petty village hides,
       And sets his cradle out of fortune’s way.

 214 Till fully ripe his swelling fate breaks out,
       And hurries him to mighty mischiefs on: 
     His prince, surprised at first, no ill could doubt,
       And wants the power to meet it when ’tis known.

 215 Such was the rise of this prodigious fire,
       Which, in mean buildings first obscurely bred,
     From thence did soon to open streets aspire,
       And straight to palaces and temples spread.

 216 The diligence of trades and noiseful gain,
       And luxury more late, asleep were laid: 
     All was the night’s; and in her silent reign
       No sound the rest of nature did invade.

 217 In this deep quiet, from what source unknown,
       Those seeds of fire their fatal birth disclose;
     And first few scattering sparks about were blown,
       Big with the flames that to our ruin rose.

 218 Then in some close-pent room it crept along,
       And, smouldering as it went, in silence fed;
     Till the infant monster, with devouring strong,
       Walk’d boldly upright with exalted head.

 219 Now like some rich or mighty murderer,
       Too great for prison, which he breaks with gold;
     Who fresher for new mischiefs does appear,
       And dares the world to tax him with the old: 

 220 So ’scapes the insulting fire his narrow jail,
       And makes small outlets into open air: 
     There the fierce winds his tender force assail,
       And beat him downward to his first repair.

 221 The winds, like crafty courtesans, withheld
       His flames from burning, but to blow them more: 
     And every fresh attempt he is repell’d
       With faint denials weaker than before.

 222 And now no longer letted[49] of his prey,
       He leaps up at it with enraged desire: 
     O’erlooks the neighbours with a wide survey,
       And nods at every house his threatening fire.

 223 The ghosts of traitors from the bridge descend,
       With bold fanatic spectres to rejoice: 
     About the fire into a dance they bend,
       And sing their sabbath notes with feeble voice.

 224 Our guardian angel saw them where they sate
       Above the palace of our slumbering king: 
     He sigh’d, abandoning his charge to fate,
       And, drooping, oft look’d back upon the wing.

 225 At length the crackling noise and dreadful blaze
       Call’d up some waking lover to the sight;
     And long it was ere he the rest could raise,
       Whose heavy eyelids yet were full of night.

 226 The next to danger, hot pursued by fate,
       Half-clothed, half-naked, hastily retire: 
     And frighted mothers strike their breasts too late,
       For helpless infants left amidst the fire.