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.