Fed his ingrowing evil.
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ccused was in a stinking taleConceived in terror of the gaol,When to the whole court’s surpriseOld Boris thunders, Lies! Lies!And for not telling what he knows,Old Boris smites him on the nose.Gentlemen are on their feet, Boris willing to repeat, And there’s your easy barristerAs mad as the March-most hare.Up with hate, contempt, grudge,Which in the white bosom lodge!Order, order! It was not, Boris too infernal hot, Drew his fist and let ’em have it,Got it back as good as gave it,Went for eye and went for wigOf coward, tattler, meddler, prig. Boris darted in and knocked ’em,Boris laid about and crocked ’em,Jurors, gentlemen, and clients,Neo-British bobby giants:A man by pea-green powder charmed,For down he dropped unharmed. 38
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