Grey-headed men and grave, with warriors mixed, Assemble, and harangues are heard; but soon In factious opposition, till at last Of middle age one rising, eminent In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace, And judgment from above: him old and young Exploded, and had seized with violent hands, Had not a cloud descending snatched him thence, Unseen amid the throng. So violence Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law, Through all the plain, and refuge none was found. Adam was all in tears, and to his guide Lamenting turned full sad: “Oh, what are these? Death’s ministers, not men! who thus deal death Inhumanly to men, and multiply Ten thousandfold the sin of him who slew His brother; for of whom such massacre Make they but of their brethren, men of men? But who was that just man, whom had not Heaven Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost?”