Black Beetles in Amber - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 128

TO AN INSOLENT ATTORNEY

So, Hall McAllister, you'll not be warned—My protest slighted, admonition scorned!To save your scoundrel client from a cellAs loth to swallow him as he to swellIts sum of meals insurgent (it decriesAll wars intestinal with meats that rise)You turn your scurril tongue against the pressAnd damn the agency you ought to bless.Had not the press with all its hundred eyesDiscerned the wolf beneath the sheep's disguiseAnd raised the cry upon him, he to-dayWould lack your company, and you would lack his pay.Talk not of "hire" and consciences for sale—You whose profession 'tis to threaten, rail,Calumniate and libel at the willOf any villain who can pay the bill—You whose most honest dollars all were gotBy saying for a fee "the thing that's not!"To you 'tis one, to challenge or defend;Clients are means, their money is an end.In my profession sometimes, as in yoursAlways, a payment large enough securesA mercenary service to defendThe guilty or the innocent to rend.But mark the difference, nor think it slight:We do not hold it proper, just and right;Of selfish lies a little still we shameAnd give our villainies another name.Hypocrisy's an ugly vice, no doubt,But blushing sinners can't get on without.Happy the lawyer!—at his favored handsNor truth nor decency the world demands.Secure in his immunity from shame,His cheek ne'er kindles with the tell-tale flame.His brains for sale, morality for hire,In every land and century a licensed liar!No doubt, McAllister, you can explainHow honorable 'tis to lie for gain,Provided only that the jury's madeTo understand that lying is your trade.A hundred thousand volumes, broad and flat,(The Bible not included) proving that,Have been put forth, though still the doubt remainsIf God has read them with befitting pains.No Morrow could get justice, you'll declare,If none who knew him foul affirmed him fair.Ingenious man! how easy 'tis to raiseAn argument to justify the course that pays!I grant you, if you like, that men may needThe services performed for crime by greed,—Grant that the perfect welfare of the StateRequires the aid of those who in debateAs mercenaries lost in early youthThe fine distinction between lie and truth—Who cheat in argument and set a snareTo take the feet of Justice unaware—Who serve with livelier zeal when rogues assistWith perjury, embracery (the listIs long to quote) than when an honest soul,Scorning to plot, conspire, intrigue, cajole,Reminds them (their astonishment how great!)He'd rather suffer wrong than perpetrate.I grant, in short, 'tis better all aroundThat ambidextrous consciences aboundIn courts of law to do the dirty workThat self-respecting scavengers would shirk.What then? Who serves however clean a planBy doing dirty work, he is a dirty man!