Moreover that same dangerous shouting meant
Some gratitude for future favours, which
Were only promised;—the Constituent
Implied;—the whole being subject to the hitch
In motu proprios, very incident
To all these Czars, from Paul to Paulovitch.
Whereat the people rose up in the dust
Of the Duke's flying feet, and shouted still,
And loudly, only, this time, as was just,
Not "Live the Duke," who had fled, for good or ill
But "Live the People," who remained and must,
The unrenounced and unrenounceable.
VII.
And bubbled in the cauldron of the street!
How the young blustered, nor the old recoiled,
And what a thunderous stir of tongues and feet
Trod flat the palpitating bells, and foiled
The joy-guns of their echo, shattering it!
How they pulled down the Duke's arms every where!
How they set up new café-signs, to show
Where patriots might sip ices in pure air—
(Yet the fresh paint smelt somewhat.) To and fro
How marched the civic guard, and stopped to stare
When boys broke windows in a civic glow.
How rebel songs were sung to loyal tunes,
And the pope cursed, in ecclesiastic metres!
How all the Circoli grew large as moons,
And all the speakers, moonstruck! thankful—greeters
Of prospects which struck poor the ducal boons,
