as governor-elect, I had gone to Trumann, in northeast

There Dan Deronda reels and falls, a hero sore surprised;

Ha, Beauseant! still may such fate befall the Circumcised!

The Egoist is flying fast from him of Ivanhoe:

Beneath the axe of Skalagrim fall prigs at every blow:

The ragged Zolaists have fled, screaming 'We are betrayed,'

But loyal Alan Breck is shent, stabbed through the Stuart plaid;

In sooth it is a grimly sight, so fast the heroes fall,

Three volumes fell could scarcely tell the fortunes of them all.