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Sustain the cone of my untroubled brain,
Eigh! eigh I eigh ! eigh!
Ha! what are ye, Who, crowned with leaves devoted to the Furies, Cling round this sacred shrine ?
Aigh I aigh i aigh!
What! ye that are The
very beasts that, offered at her altar With blood and groans, salt-cake, and fat, and
inwards, Ever propitiate her reluctant will When taxes are withheld ?
Ugh! ugh! ugh!
With filthy snouts my red potatoes up
The same, alas! the same;
Of pig remains to me.
If 'twere your kingly will
What should we yield to thee?
Why skin and bones, and some faw hairs for mortar
CHORUS OF SWINE.
I have heard your Laureate sing,
But now our sties are fallen in, we catch
The murrain and the mange, the scab and itch; Sometimes your royal dogs tear down our thatch,
And then we seek the shelter of a ditch; Hog-wash or grains, or ruta-baga, none Has yet been ours since your reign begun.
My pigs, 'tis in vain to tug!
I could almost eat my litter!
I suck, but no milk will come from the dug
Our skin and our bones would be bitter.
We fight for this rag
greasy rug, Though a trough of wash would be fitter.
Happier swine were they than we,
To bind your mortar with, or fill our colons With rich blood, or make brawn out of our gristles,
In policy-ask else your royal SolonsYou ought to give us hog-wash and clean straw, And sties well thatched; besides, it is the law !
This is sedition, and rank blasphemy!
Enter a GUARD.
Your sacred Majesty ?
Call in the Jews, Solomon the court porkman, Moses the sow-gelder, and Zephaniah the hog
They are in waiting, sire.
Enter SOLOMON, Moses, and ZEPHANIAH.
Out with your knife, old Moses, and spay those sowe
(The Pigs run about in consternation. That load the earth with pigs ; cut close and deep. Moral restraint I see has no effect, Nor prostitution, nor our own example, Starvation, typhus-fever, war, nor prison.
This was the art which the arch-priest of
Let your majesty
Keep the boars quiet, else —
Zephaniah, cut That fat hog's throat, the brute seems overfed ; Seditious hunks! to whine for want of grains.
Your sacred majesty, he has the dropsy.
'Tis all the same.