The bright one look'd, of course, surprised, and then observed, that he
Could not conceive nor yet believe that such a thing could be;
So Satan call'd his witnesses, who swore through thick and thin,
That Father Joe couldn't stand or go before he tumbled in.
Now though the angel knew that imps were never over nice
In swearing at their master's call to prop each foul device,
He felt perplex'd, because the case look'd really rather shady,
And so declared, "I daren't decide till I consult Our Lady."
While thus he spake, a sudden quake ran through the dingy crowd,
And, as in votive paintings seen, encircled by a cloud,
With 'broider'd coat and lace-frill'd throat, and jewels rich and rare,
The Virgin Queen, with smiles serene, came sailing through the air.
The angels with an "Ave!" hail'd the lady to the place,
The impish band, each with his hand conceal'd his ugly face,
And Satan stared as though ensnared, but speedily regain'd
His wonted air of confidence, and still his claim maintain'd.
Said he, "I'm sure your ladyship could never stoop to own
Acquaintance with a libertine, to drunkenness so prone;
A gormandizer too you see, as full as any sack,"
And here he gave poor Joe a kick, and turn'd him on his back.
The lady started with surprise, and cried, "That face I know:
Oh yes! 'Tis he! I plainly see! Dear jolly Father Joe!
I do not say but perhaps he may, be somewhat over fat,
But there's no rule why sage or fool should go to you for that.
"His appetite was always good, a fact that makes it clear
He was no heavy-headed sot, be-stupefied with beer,
Nor spoil'd his dinners with hot lunch, but kept his palate clean,
And sat down cheerfully to dine—and that's no sin, I ween.
"And as for drink, I really think a man who weighs twelve score,
May be allow'd an extra pint, or p'rhaps a bottle more,
Than folks who're slim, or gaunt and grim, like some that I could name,
Who, when in company, are wish'd safe back to whence they came."
Here the black prince was seen to wince, the lady waved her hand,
And then resumed, "But now I'll speak of what I understand
A trifle better than you all—I mean of what is due
To ladies from all gentlemen. Of course I don't mean you.
"I mean all those whom folks suppose, or who themselves believe,
To be entitled to the name, (although I oft perceive
That many are mistaken quite,) should keep on the alert
In ladies' company, lest they our tender feelings hurt.