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| TWO foot-companions once in deep discourse— | |
| ‘Tom,’ says the one, ‘Let ’s go and steal a horse.’ | |
| ‘Steal!’ says the other in a huge surprise, | |
| ‘He that says I ’m a thief, I say he lies.’ | |
| ‘Well, well,’ replies his friend, ‘No such affront! | 5 |
| I did but ask ye. If you won’t, you won’t.’ | |
| So they jogged on, till in another strain | |
| The querist moved to honest Tom again: | |
| ‘Suppose,’ says he, ‘for supposition’s sake | |
| (’Tis but a supposition that I make!) | 10 |
| Suppose that we should filch a horse, I say?’ | |
| ‘Filch? filch?’ quoth Tom, demurring by the way, | |
| ‘That ’s not so bad as downright theft, I own, | |
| But yet—methinks,—’twere better let alone. | |
| It soundeth something pitiful and low. | 15 |
| Shall we go filch a horse, you say? Why, no! | |
| I ’ll filch no filching;—and I ’ll tell no lie: | |
| Honesty ’s the best policy, say I!’ | |
| |
| Struck with such vast integrity quite dumb, | |
| His comrade paused. At last, says he, ‘Come, come, | 20 |
| Thou art an honest fellow, I agree. | |
| Honest and poor.—Alas, that should not be!— | |
| And dry into the bargain! And no drink! | |
| Shall we go nim a horse, Tom? What dost think?’ | |
| |
| How clear are things when liquor ’s in the case! | 25 |
| Tom answers quick, with casuistic grace, | |
| ‘Nim? yes, yes, yes! Let ’s nim, with all my heart. | |
| I see no harm in nimming, for my part. | |
| Hard is the case, now I look sharp into ’t, | |
| That honesty should trudge i’ th’ dirt afoot! | 30 |
| So many empty horses round about, | |
| That honesty should wear its bottoms out! | |
| Besides, shall honesty be choked with thirst? | |
| Were it my Lord Mayor’s horse, I ’d nim it first! | |
| And, by the bye, my lad, no scrubby tit! | 35 |
| There is the best that ever wore a bit | |
| Not far from hence.’—‘I take ye,’ quoth his friend, | |
| ‘Is not yon stable, Tom, our journey’s end?’— | |
| Good wits will jump; both meant the very steed, | |
| The top o’ the country both for shape and breed. | 40 |
| So to ’t they went, and with a halter round | |
| His feathered neck they nimmed him off the ground. * * * * * | |
| ’Twixt right and wrong how many gentle trimmers | |
| Will neither steal nor filch, but will be plaguy Nimmers! | |
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