“They called it Annandale—and I was there To flourish, to find words, and to attend: Liar, physician, hypocrite, and friend, I watched him; and the sight was not so fair As one or two that I have seen elsewhere:
An apparatus not for me to mend— A wreck, with hell between him and the end, Remained of Annandale; and I was there. “I knew the ruin as I knew the man; So put the two together, if you can,
Remembering the worst you know of me. Now view yourself as I was, on the spot— With a slight kind of engine.
Do you see? Like this … You wouldn’t hang me?
I thought not.”
