Page:The Hind and the Panther - Dryden (1687).djvu/44

'Tis true, the younger Lyon scap'd the snare,
But all your priestly Calves lay strugling there;
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$As sacrifices on their Altars laid;
While you their careful mother wisely fled
Not trusting destiny to save your head.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$For, what e'er Promises you have apply'd
To your unfailing Church, the surer side
Is four fair Leggs in danger to provide.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$And what e'er Tales of Peter's Chair you tell,
Yet saving Reverence of the Miracle,
The better luck was yours to 'scape so well.

 As I remember, said the sober Hind,
Those Toils were for your own dear self design'd,
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$As well as me; and, with the self same throw,
To catch the Quarry and the Vermin too,
(Forgive the sland'rous Tongues that call'd you so.)
Howe'er you take it now, the common Cry
Then ran you down for your rank Loyalty;

Besides