At Beauty's Bar As I Did Stand
AT Beauty's bar as I did stand,
When False Suspect accused,
``George,'' quod the judge, ``hold up thy hand;
Thou art arraigned of flattery.
Tell therefore how thou wilt be tried.
Whose judgment here wilt thou abide?''
``My lord,'' quod I, ``this lady here,
Whom I esteem above the rest,
Doth know my guilt, if any were,
Wherefore her doom shall please me best;
Let her be judge and juror both,
To try me, guiltless by mine oath.''
Quod Beauty, ``No, it fitteth not,
A Prince herself to judge the cause;
Will is our Justice, well you wot,
Appointed to discuss our laws;
If you will guiltless seem to go,
God and your country quit you so.''
Then Craft, the crier, called a quest,
Of whom was Falsehood foremost fere;
A pack of pickthanks were the rest,
Which came fale witness for to bear;
The jury such, the judge unjust,
Sentence was said I should be trussed.
Jealous, the jailer, bound me fast,
To hear the verdict of the bill;
``George,'' quod the judge, ``now thou art cast,
Thou must go hence to Heavy Hill,
And there be hanged, all but the head;
God rest thy soul when thou art dead.''
Down fell I thn upon my knee,
All flat before Dame Beauty's face,
And cried, ``Good Lady, pardon me,
Which here appeal unto your Grace;
You know if I have been untrue,
It was in too much praising you.
``And though this judge do make such haste
To shed with shame my guiltless blood,
Yet let your pity first be placed,
To save the man that meant you good;
So shall you show yourself a queen,
And I may be your servant seen.''
Quod Beauty, ``Well; because I guess
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poem by George Gascoigne
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