But Juan was my Moscow, and Faliero
My Leipzig, and my Mont Saint Jean seems Cain:
La Belle Alliance of dunces down at zero,
Now that the Lion’s fallen, may rise again:
But I will fall at least as fell my Hero;
Nor reign at all, or as a monarch reign;
Or to some lonely isle of gaolers go,
With turncoat Southey for my turnkey Lowe.