And, whilst arch, subtle hypocrites contrive To keep the flames of discontent alive; Whilst they, with arts to honest men unknown, Breed doubts between the people and the throne, Making us fear, where Reason never yet Allow'd one fear, or could one doubt admit, 390 Themselves pass unsuspected in disguise, And 'gainst our real danger seal our eyes. _F_. Mark them, and let their names recorded stand On Shame's black roll, and stink through all the land. _P_. That might some courage, but no prudence be; No hurt to them, and jeopardy to me. _F_. Leave out their names. _P_. For that kind caution, thanks; But may not judges sometimes fill up blanks? _F_. Your country's laws in doubt then you reject? 400 _P_. The laws I love, the lawyers I suspect. Amongst twelve judges may not one be found (On bare, bare possibility I ground This wholesome doubt) who may enlarge, retrench, Create, and uncreate, and from the bench, With winks, smiles, nods, and such like paltry arts, May work and worm into a jury's hearts? Or, baffled there, may, turbulent of soul, Cramp their high office, and their rights control; Who may, though judge, turn advocate at large, 410 And deal replies out by the way of charge, Making Interpretation all the way, In spite of facts, his wicked will obey, And, leaving Law without the least defence, May damn his conscience to approve his sense? _F_. Whilst, the true guardians of this charter'd land, In full and perfect vigour, juries stand, A judge in vain shall awe, cajole, perplex. _P_. Suppose I should be tried in Middlesex? _F_. To pack a jury they will never dare. 420 _P_. There's no occasion to pack juries there.[297] _F_. 'Gainst prejudice all arguments are weak; Reason herself without effect must speak. Fly then thy country, like a coward fly, Renounce her interest, and her laws defy. But why, bewitch'd, to India turn thine eyes? Cannot our Europe thy vast wrath suffice? Cannot thy misbegotten Muse lay bare Her brawny arm, and play the butcher there? _P_. Thy counsel taken, what should Satire do? 430 Where could she find an object that is new? Those travell'd youths, whom tender mothers wean, And send abroad to see, and to be seen; With whom, lest they should fornicate, or worse, A tutor's sent by way of a dry nurse; Each of whom just enough of spirit bears To show our follies, and to bring home theirs, Have made all Europe's vices so well known, They seem almost as natural as our own. _F_. Will India for thy purpose better do? 440 _P_. In one respect, at least--there's something new. _F_. A harmless people, in whom Nature speaks Free and untainted,'mongst whom Satire seeks, But vainly seeks, so simply plain their hearts, One bosom where to lodge her poison'd darts. _P_. From knowledge speak you this? or, doubt on doubt Weigh'd and resolved, hath Reason found it out?