THE POTMAN AND THE PRÆTOR.--(A LAY OF THE MIDDLESEX SESSIONS).
FLATULEIUS, the advocate, His client's cause hath sped, And ADAMUS, the stern Prætor, Hath reared his learned head; He hath summed up to the jury With digressions, by the way, On juvenile offenders And the topics of the day.
Till BIBULUS, the foreman, That was beer-bemused before, By the Prætor's various learning Is mystified still more; And with the eleven, his comrades, More obfuscate e'en than he, Hath been led forth by the lictor, On their verdict to agree.
They have sworn another jury, They have called another case, An hour hath passed, but BIBULUS Hath not yet shown his face, And the learned Prætor wonders What the fools can be about, For he told them what their verdict Ought to be when they went out.
When, sudden, a plebeian Excited, rushes in, And, in a voice that drowneth E'en FLATULEIUS' din, Exclaimeth to the Prætor, "My Lord, a party here Says, as how them blessèd jury Is a drinkin' pots o' beer."
"Ho! call the recreant lictor!" The angry Prætor cried. "'Twas his to guard the doorway That nought might be supplied-- Nor meat, nor drink, nor firing, Excepting candle-light; For so the Law enacteth, And the Law is always right!"
The lictor comes--"Thou traitor! The law dost thou deride? How came liquor to the jury? How was the beer supplied?" "My lord, I heard 'em drinking, And found out that their lay Was to summon forth the potman Of the public o'er the way, Who through the open window The pewter did convey."
One moment paused the Prætor, And with an angry blush, For the Common Law thus outraged, His awful face did flush. One moment you had fancied He was about to swear; But he checked the rising impulse, And spoke with awful air:
"Bring forth to me the landlord Of the public o'er the way; Say 'tis the Law that calls him, And the Law brooks no delay. And summon, too, the potman-- Him who supplied the beer-- And now bring foreman BIBULUS And his bold comrades here!"
With stealthy hand, still wiping The froth from off his chin, They have brought forth beery BIBULUS, And his fellows in the sin. You had not guessed the burden Upon their thirsty souls, Though the Prætor's eye clean through them Its gathered lightning rolls!