One darkly muttering, “This is Hell!” His weed was wet from head to feet; He put him in a common cell. The Justice chewed the evidence; His eyes were soft, his lips were bland; It was, he said, a first offence; He merely gave a reprimand. “Go free, my poppets, keep the laws, And get ye wed at once,” said he; The court indulged in rude applause; The usher cleared the gallery. The prison-warder, deeply stirred, Approached the culprits at the bar; Then haled them forth without a word Towards the nearest Registrar. RICHARD. John, you surpass yourself. Next week Expect a flattering critique! 36 36