At last they had the ruffian downed
And his spent captors stood around,
Bleeding and torn in every limb,
To think what they should do with him;
What punishment, and for what time,
Could expiate his hideous crime;
What fine, how long enforced and paid,
Could mend the ruin he had made;
And some who called him maniac sure,
Sought how to best restrain and cure.
But others who had held it wrong
To struggle with the villain strong;
Claiming that it was never right,
No matter what the cause, to fight;
Plead with the judges, lest their dealings
Might somehow hurt the prisoners' feelings.
They said, “More honor must be lent
To this so brave belligerent”
“If you should make too sore your sentence
It might postpone his true repentance”
“If you inflict too heavy pain
He may be led to strike again.”
“If you, by fines, your wealth regained,
His life and children would be pained,
Surely, Oh surely you would scorn
So to impoverish the unborn!”
The victors might have answered thus:
“He's no belligerent, this cuss,
But a plain criminal in fact,
And caught redhanded in the act
He strike again if we do more?
Without offense he struck before,
And doubtless so will strike again
If we let any chance remain.
And for his feelings—Holy Powers!
Suppose you give a thought to ours.
As to his family—'tis true,
But we have wives and children too,
By him impoverished. Please explain
Why his alone should not have pain?
All the unborn the loss must bear,
We propose his shall have their share.”
They might have answered thus, or longer,
They have answered even stronger?
They might, but it seemed too protracted,
The court was sitting, and it acted.