Constable. Zounds and death! your worships! I could not help it for the blood o’ me.
Court. Now you owe us two shillings.
Constable. That’s a d——d bad plaster, your worships, for a sore nose!
Court. That being but half an oath, the whole fine amounts to two shillings and sixpence, or a half-crown bowl. So, without going further, if you are afraid of his teeth, apply this pair of nut-crackers to his tail.
Constable. I shall, your worships.
[He had better success with the tail, as will now appear.]
Prisoner. Bow, wow, wow, ow, wow!
Court. Hold! Enough. That will do.
It was now held that though the prisoner expressed himself in a strange language, yet, as he could speak no other, and as the law can not only make dogs to speak, but explain their meaning too, so the law understood and inferred that the prisoner pleaded not guilty, and put himself upon his trial. Issue therefore being joined, the Counsel for the Prosecution proceeded to address the Court; but was stopped by the other side.
Prisoner’s Counsel. I take leave to demur to the jurisdiction of the court. If he is to have a trial per pares, you must either suppose their worships to be his equals, that is to say, not his betters, which would be a great indignity, or else you must have a venire for a jury of twelve dogs. I think you are fairly caught in this dilemma.