 | The Poems of St. George Tucker of Williamsburg, Virginia 1752-1827 |  |
140
The Ass Turned Witness
A Tale—from La Fontaine
A painter jealous above measure,
The better to secure his treasure,
Above the keyhole of the place
That held it, paints a little ass.
The better to secure his treasure,
Above the keyhole of the place
That held it, paints a little ass.
The sequel how shall I reveal?
A brother painter came to steal;
The door unlocks—but in his haste
The ass was totally effaced,
Except the head; which would betray
That somebody had been that way:
In haste his pencil then he got,
And drew another on the spot.
A brother painter came to steal;
The door unlocks—but in his haste
The ass was totally effaced,
Except the head; which would betray
That somebody had been that way:
In haste his pencil then he got,
And drew another on the spot.
Now see our jealous painter come
To view his exhibition room.
“Ye Gods, what here! Upon my life
I'm robbed!” he bawls out to his wife.
“No mortal has been near the place,”
Quoth she.—“My witness is the ass.”
“The ass! you jade! My brains you'll addle:
Zounds! gypsy, who put on the saddle?”
To view his exhibition room.
“Ye Gods, what here! Upon my life
I'm robbed!” he bawls out to his wife.
“No mortal has been near the place,”
Quoth she.—“My witness is the ass.”
“The ass! you jade! My brains you'll addle:
Zounds! gypsy, who put on the saddle?”
Feb. 14, 1790
| The Poems of St. George Tucker of Williamsburg, Virginia 1752-1827 | |