(1) Innocence Unveil'd. OR, A POEM On the Acquittal of the Lord Chief Justice Scroggs,
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IMperious Bedlow, and his Oaten Friend,
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Will now begin to buckle, or to bend:
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Now I do plainly see that they are Fools,
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They find it dang'rous meddling with Edge-Tools.
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Justice is sharp when it's too much abus'd;
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Justice unjustly lately was accus'd:
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And now what follows? Scourges of the Law,
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To keep such bold-fac'd Fellows all in awe.
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Your Innocence (unless I miss my mark)
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Will make their Evidence look dull and dark.
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Had they but found you Guilty, I dare swing
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If they had let alone our Gracious King.
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Their Heads were very high, their Hearts too stout,
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Now give their Pride and Confidence a rout.
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The House of Commons is there All in All,
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And while They stand, the Coxcombs cannot fall.
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This is their strong conceit; they do not fear:
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But ev'ry man that has an ear to hear,
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Shall shortly hear that they have spoil'd their sport
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By nothing more, than by this false Report.
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Those Scriblers Harris, Smith, and Care, will quake,
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For their Foundation doth begin to shake:
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The first and second Saviour both look pale,
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To see their Gall and Malice doth so fail:
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The Rubbish is remov'd, Knaves must fly hence,
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For who can stand against your Innocence!
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The Chief in Justice shines in's proper place,
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Whilst Envy lies obscur'd with great disgrace.
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Plot on, thou puny Levite, but beware
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(Both Thou, the Captain, Harris, Smith and Care,)
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Of him you aim'd to catch within your Snare.
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His great Integrity is fully known,
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And well approv'd by him that wears the Crown;
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Is't a light thing to tread our Justice down?
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Might Justice once be trodden under feet,
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Then ev'ry Knave would strive for CHARLES his Seat:
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Justice is not so weak as you suppose;
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Your Smith may sooner take the Devil by th' Nose,
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Than think his Libels, or your Oaths can taint
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That that's the badge of ev'ry Earthly Saint.
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Injustice is your Justice, I'me afraid,
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But yet by justice you shall all be paid:
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You have had Rope enough, too much, I doubt,
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Indeed I wonder that your Necks are out:
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You are not Hang'd, but choak'd up in your Throats;
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Now who'l believe the Rev'rend Dr. Oates,
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Or the Heroick Captain? Commons may
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Not when they find your Truth is gone astray:
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My Lord Chief Justice Story will be told,
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And 'twill appear that you have been too bold,
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And Truth and Justice both at once you've sold.
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