That none who, with due share of sense, Observed the ways of Providence, Could with safe conscience leave off drinking Till they had lost the power of thinking; With eyes half-closed came waddling in, And, having stroked his double chin, (That chin, whose credit to maintain Against the scoffs of the profane, 700 Had cost him more than ever state Paid for a poor electorate,[235] Which, after all the cost and rout It had been better much without) Briefly (for breakfast, you must know, Was waiting all the while below) Related, bowing to the ground, The cause of that uncommon sound; Related, too, that at the door Pomposo, Plausible, and Moore, 710 Begg'd that Fame might not be allow'd Their shame to publish to the crowd; That some new laws he would provide, (If old could not be misapplied With as much ease and safety there As they are misapplied elsewhere) By which it might be construed treason In man to exercise his reason; Which might ingeniously devise One punishment for truth and lies, 720 And fairly prove, when they had done, That truth and falsehood were but one; Which juries must indeed retain, But their effects should render vain, Making all real power to rest In one corrupted rotten breast, By whose false gloss the very Bible Might be interpreted a libel. Moore (who, his reverence to save, Pleaded the fool to screen the knave, 730 Though all who witness'd on his part Swore for his head against his heart) Had taken down, from first to last, A just account of all that pass'd; But, since the gracious will of Fate, Who mark'd the child for wealth and state E'en in the cradle, had decreed The mighty Dulman ne'er should read, That office of disgrace to bear The smooth-lipp'd Plausible[236] was there; 740 From Holborn e'en to Clerkenwell, Who knows not smooth-lipp'd Plausible? A preacher, deem'd of greatest note For preaching that which others wrote. Had Dulman now, (and fools, we see, Seldom want curiosity) Consented (but the mourning shade Of Gascoyne hasten'd to his aid, And in his hand--what could he more-- Triumphant Canning's picture bore) 750 That our three heroes should advance And read their comical romance, How rich a feast, what royal fare, We for our readers might prepare! So rich and yet so safe a feast, That no one foreign blatant beast, Within the purlieus of the law, Should dare thereon to lay his paw, And, growling, cry, with surly tone, 'Keep off--this feast is all my own.' 760 Bending to earth the downcast eye, Or planting it against the sky, As one immersed in deepest thought, Or with some holy vision caught, His hands, to aid the traitor's art, Devoutly folded o'er his heart; Here Moore, in fraud well skill'd, should go, All saint, with solemn step and slow. Oh, that Religion's sacred name,