The horse responded: "Honest Puss, It grieves me much to see you thus. Be comforted--relief is near; Behold, the bull is in the rear."
Then she implored the stately bull, His answer we relate in full: "Madam, each beast alive can tell How very much I wish you well; But business presses in a heap, I an appointment have to keep; And now a lady's in the case,-- When other things, you know, give place. Behold the goat is just behind; Trust, trust you'll not think me unkind."
The goat declared his rocky lairs Wholly unsuited were to hares. "There is the sheep," he said, "with fleece. Adapted, now, to your release."
The sheep replied that she was sure Her weight was too great to endure; "Besides," she said, "hounds worry sheep."
Next was a calf, safe in a keep: "Oh, help me, bull-calf--lend me aid!"
"My youth and inexperience weighed," Replied the bull-calf, "though I rue it, Make me incompetent to do it; My friends might take offence. My heart-- You know my heart, my friend--we part, I do assure you----Hark! adieu! The pack, in full cry, is in view."
My friend, the sophisticated tongue Of lawyers can turn right to wrong; And language, by your skill made pliant, Can save an undeserving client. Is it the fee directs the sense To injure injured innocence? Or can you, with a double face Like Janus's, mistate a case? Is scepticism your profession, And justice absent from your session? And is, e'en so, the bar supplied, Where eloquence takes either side?
A man can well express his meaning, Except in law deeds, where your gleaning Must be first purchased--must be fee'd; Engrossed, too, the too-prolix deed. But do we shelter beneath law? Ay, till your brother finds the flaw. All wills pass muster, undisputed; Dispute, and they are soon confuted: And you, by instinct, flaws discover, As dogs find coveys in the clover.
Sagacious Porta loved to trace Likeness to brutes in lordly face-- To ape or owls his sketches liking, Sent the laugh round--they were so striking. So would I draw my satire true, And fix it on myself or you.
But you dissent: you do not like A portrait that shall rudely strike. You write no libels on the state, And party prejudice you hate; But to assail a private name You shrink, my friend, and deem it shame. So be it: yet let me in fable Knock a knave over; if I am able. Shall not the decalogue be read, Because the guilty sit in dread? Brutes are my theme: am I to blame If minds are brutish, men the same? Whom the cap fits, e'en let him wear it-- And we are strong enough to bear it.