Page:Hudibras - Volume 1 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/160

84 At twenty miles an hour pace, And yet ne'er stirs out of the place. On top of this there is a spire, On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire The fiddle, and its spoils, the case, In manner of a trophy, place. That done, they ope the trap-door gate, And let Crowdero down thereat. Crowdero making doleful face, Like hermit poor in pensive place, To dungeon they the wretch commit, And the survivor of his feet; But th' other, that had broke the peace, And head of knighthood, they release, Tho' a delinquent false and forged, Yet b'ing a stranger he 's enlarged; While his comrade, that did no hurt, Is clapp'd up fast in prison for't. So justice, while she winks at crimes, Stumbles on innocence sometimes.