Classic Poem

AN O XFORD I DYLL

They passed beneath the College gate;
 And down the High went slowly on;
Then spake the Undergraduate
 To that benign and portly Don:
“They say that Justice is a Queen—
 A Queen of awful Majesty—
Yet in the papers I have seen
 Some things that puzzle me.

“A Court obscure, so rumour states,
 There is, called ‘Vice-Cancellarii,’
Which keeps on Undergraduates,
 Who do not pay their bills, a wary eye.
A case I'm told was lately brought
 Into that tiniest of places,
And justice in that case was sought—
 As in most other cases.

“Well! Justice as I hold, dear friend,
 Is Justice, neither more than less:
I never dreamed it could depend
 On ceremonial or dress.
I thought that her imperial sway
 In Oxford surely would appear,
But all the papers seem to say
 She 's not majestic here .”

The portly Don he made reply,
 With the most roguish of his glances,
“Perhaps she drops her Majesty
 Under peculiar circumstances.”
“But that's the point!” the young man cried,
 “The puzzle that I wish to pen you in—
How are the public to decide
  Which article is genuine?

“Is't only when the Court is large
 That we for ‘Majesty’ need hunt?
Would what is Justice in a barge
 Be something different in a punt?”
“Nay, nay!” the Don replied, amused,
 “You're talking nonsense, sir! You know it!
Such arguments were never used
 By any friend of Jowett.”

“Then is it in the men who trudge
 (Beef-eaters I believe they call them)
Before each wigged and ermined judge,
 For fear some mischief should befall them?
If I should recognise in one
 (Through all disguise) my own domestic,
I fear 'twould shed a gleam of fun
 Even on the ‘Majestic’!”

The portly Don replied, “Ahem!
 They can't exactly be its essence :
I scarcely think the want of them
 The ‘Majesty of Justice’ lessens.
Besides, they always march awry:
 Their gorgeous garments never fit:
Processions don't make Majesty—
 I'm quite convinced of it.”

“Then is it in the wig it lies,
 Whose countless rows of rigid curls
Are gazed at with admiring eyes
 By country lads and servant-girls?”
Out laughed that bland and courteous Don:
 “Dear sir, I do not mean to flatter—
But surely you have hit upon
 The essence of the matter.

“They will not own the Majesty
 Of Justice, making Monarchs bow,
Unless as evidence they see
 The horsehair wig upon her brow.
Yes, yes! That makes the silliest men
 Seem wise; the meanest men look big:
The Majesty of Justice, then,
 Is seated in the WIG.”