The bleeding youth, and by his side The spotless dame, who being fast Asleep, knew nothing that had pass’d, Instant in utmost grief involved, He vengeance for himself resolved; And on that very weapon flew, Which his too cred’lous fury drew. Th’ accusers take the woman straight, And drag to the centumvirate; Th’ ill-natured world directly built A strong suspicion of her guilts, As she th’ estate was to enjoy-- The lawyers all their skill employ; And a great spirit those exert Who most her innocence assert. The judges then to Cæsar pray’d That he would lend his special aid; Who, as they acted upon oath, Declared themselves extremely loth To close this intricate affair-- He, taking then himself the chair, The clouds of calumny displaced. And Truth up to her fountain traced. “Let the freedman to vengeance go, The cause of all this scene of woe: For the poor widow, thus undone, Deprived of husband and of son, To pity has a greater plea Than condemnation, I decree-- But if the man, with caution due, Had rather blamed than listen’d to The vile accuser, and his lie Had strictly search’d with Reason’s eye, This desp’rate guilt he had not known, Nor branch and root his house o’erthrown.” Nor wholly scorn, nor yet attend Too much at what the tatlers vend, Because there’s many a sad neglect. Where you have little to suspect; And treach’rous persons will attaint Men, against whom there’s no complaint. Hence simple folks too may be taught How to form judgments as they ought, And not see with another’s glass; For things are come to such a pass, That love and hate work diff’rent ways, As int’rest or ambition sways. Them you may know, in them confide, Whom by experience you have tried. Thus have I made a long amends For that brief style which some offends. XI. THE COCK AND THE PEARL. A Cock, while scratching all around, A Pearl upon the dunghill found: “O splendid thing in foul disgrace, Had there been any in the place That saw and knew thy worth when sold, Ere this thou hadst been set in gold. But I, who rather would have got A corn of barley, heed thee not; No service can there render’d be From me to you, and you to me.” I write this tale to them alone To whom in vain my pearls are thrown. XII. THE BEES AND THE DRONES.