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On which, since nothing less can thrive,
Than Lawyers in an honest Hive,
All, except those, that got enough,
With Ink-horns by their Sides troop'd off.
Than Lawyers in an honest Hive,
All, except those, that got enough,
With Ink-horns by their Sides troop'd off.
Justice hang’d some, set others free;
And, after Goal-delivery,
Her Presence be’ng no more requir’d,
With all her Train, and Pomp retir’d.
First march'd some Smiths, with Locks and Grates,
Fetters, and Doors with Iron-Plates;
Next Goalers, Turnkeys, and Assistants:
Before the Goddess, at some distance,
Her chief and faithful Minister
Squire Catch, the Laws great Finisher,
Bore not th’ imaginary Sword,
But his own Tools, an Ax and Cord:
Then on a Cloud the Hood-wink’d fair
Justice her self was push’d by Air:
And, after Goal-delivery,
Her Presence be’ng no more requir’d,
With all her Train, and Pomp retir’d.
First march'd some Smiths, with Locks and Grates,
Fetters, and Doors with Iron-Plates;
Next Goalers, Turnkeys, and Assistants:
Before the Goddess, at some distance,
Her chief and faithful Minister
Squire Catch, the Laws great Finisher,
Bore not th’ imaginary Sword,
But his own Tools, an Ax and Cord:
Then on a Cloud the Hood-wink’d fair
Justice her self was push’d by Air:
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