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Rams, and flings now are filly battery,
to out-usure Jews,
Notes. VER. 44. In what Commandment's large contents they dwell.] The Original is more humourous,
In what Commandment's large receit they dwell. As if the Ter Commandments were so wide, as to fand ready
In love's, in nature's spite, the fiege they hold,
These write to Lords, some mean reward to get, ' As needy beggars fing at doors for meat.
26 Those write because all write, and so have still Excuse for writing, and for writing ill.
Wretched indeed! but far more wretched yet Is he who makes his meal on others wit:
30 'Tis chang’d, no doubt, from what it was before, His rank digestion makes it wit no more : Sense, past thro' him, no longer is the same; For food digested takes another rfame.
I pass o’er all those Confessors and Martyrs, 35 Who live like S-tt-n, or who die like Chartres, Out-cant old Efdras, or out-drink his heir, Out-usure Jews, or Irishmen out-swear; Wicked as Pages, who in early years Act fins which Prisca's Confeffor fcarce hears. Ev'n those I pardon, for whose sinful fake Schoolmen new tenements in hell must make; Of whose strange crimes no Canonist can tell In what Commandment's large contents they dwell.
to receive every thing within them, that either the Law of Nature or the Gospel commands. A just ridicule on those practical Commentators, as they are called, who in. clude all moral and religious Duties within them.
But these punish themselves. The infolence Of Coscus, only, breeds my just offence, Whom time (which rots all, and makes botches pox, And plodding on, must make a calf an ox) Hath made a Lawyer; which (alas) of late ; But scarce a Poet: jollier of this state, Than are new-benefic'd Ministers, he throws
Like nets or lime-twigs wherefoe'er he goes
And wooes in language of the Pleas and Bench.**
Words, words which would tear
The tender labyrinth of a Maid's soft ear:
One, one man only breeds my just offence; 45 Whom crimes gave wealth, and wealth gave Impudence: Time, that at last matures a clap to pox, Whose gentle progress makes a calf an ox, And brings all natural events to pass, Hath made him an Attorney of an Afs. No young divine, new-benefic'd, can be More pert, more proud, more positive than he. What further could I with the fop to do, But turn a wit, and fcribble verses too; Pierce the soft lab'rinth of a Lady's ear
55 With rhymes of this per cent, and that per year? Or court a Wife, spread out his wily parts, Like nets or lime-twigs, for rich Widows hearts; Call himself Barrister to ev'ry wench, And wooe in language of the Pleas and Bench? 60 Language, which Boreas might to Auster hold More rough than forty Germans when they scold.
Curs'd be the wretch, so venal and so vain: Paltry and proud, as drabs in Drury-lane. 'Tis such a bounty as was never known,
65 If Peter deigns to help you to your own : What thanks, what praise, if Peter but supplies, And what a folemn face if he denies ! Grave, as when pris'ners Chake the head and swear 'Twas only Suretiship that brought 'em there.
70 His Office keeps your Parchment fates entirc, He starves with cold to save them from the fire;
Idly, like prisoners, which whole months will swear,
Nores. b His comparing Advocates inforcing the Law to the Bench, to a wedge in a block, our Author juftly thought too licentious to be imitated.