The other evening ('t was on Friday last)—

This is a fact, and no poetic fable—

Just as my great coat was about me cast,

My hat and gloves still lying on the table,

I heard a shot—'t was eight o'clock scarce past—

And, running out as fast as I was able,[279]I found the military commandant

Stretched in the street, and able scarce to pant.