Page images

In love's, in nature's fpite, the fiege they hold, And fcorn the flesh, the dev'l, and all but gold.

Thefe write to lords, fome mean reward to get, As needy beggars fing at doors for meat. 26 Those write because all write, and so have still Excufe for writing, and for writing ill.


Wretched indeed! but far more wretched yet Is he who makes his meal on others wit: 'Tis chang'd, no doubt, from what it was before, His rank digeftion makes it wit no more: Senfe, paft thro' him, no longer is the fame; For food digefted takes another name.

I pafs o'er all thofe confeffors and martyrs, 35 Who live like S---tt---n, or who die like Chartres, Outcant old Efdras, or outdrink his heir, Outufure Jews, or Irishmen outfwear;

Rams, and flings how are filly battery,
Pistolets are the best artillery.

And they who write to lords, rewards to get,
Are they not like fingers at doors for meat?
And they who write, because all write, have still
That 'fcufe for writing, and for writing ill.

But he is worft, who beggarly doth chaw
Others wits fruits, and in his ravenous maw
Rankly digefted, doth these things outspue,
As his own things; and they're his own, 'tis true,
For if one eat my meat, tho' it be known
The meat was mine, the excrement's his own.

But thefe do me no harm, nor they which use to outufure Jews, T'outdrink the fea, t' outfwear the Letanie, Who with fins all kinds as familiar be

[ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

Wicked as pages, who in early years

Act fins which Prifca's Confeffor fcarce hears. 40
Ev'n thofe I pardon, for whofe finful fake,
Schoolmen new tenements in hell must make;
Of whose strange crimes no canonist can tell
In what commandment's large contents they dwell.
One, one man only breeds my just offence;
Whom crimes gave wealth, and wealth gave


Time, that at last matures a clap to pox,
Whofe gentle progrefs 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 pofitive than he.
What further could I wish the fop to do
But turn a wit, and fcribble verfes too?

45 im

As confeffors, and for whofe finful fake
Schoolmen new tenements in hell must make;
Whofe ftrange fins canonifts could hardly tell
In which commandment's large receit they dwell.
But these punish themselves. The infolence
Of Cofcus, only, breeds my juft offence,
Whom time (which rots all, and makes botches

And plodding on, must make a calf an ox)
Hath made a lawyer; which (alas) of late;
But fcarce a poet: jollier of this state,
Than are new-benefic'd minifters, he throws,
Like nets or lime-twigs, wherefoe'er he
His title of barrister on ev'ry wench,
And wooes in language of the pleas and bench.


M 5



Pierce the foft lib'rinth of a lady's ear
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 woo in language of the pleas and bench? 60
Language, which Boreas might to Aufter 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 fuch a bounty as was never known,
If PETER deigns to help you to your own:
What thanks, what praife, if Peter but supplies !
And what a folemn face, if he denies!


Grave, as when pris'ners shake the head, and swear
'Twas only furetiship that brought 'em there. 70
His office keeps your parchment fates entire,
He starves with old to fave them from the fire;

Words, words which would tear The tender labyrinth of a maid's soft ear: More, more than ten Sclavonians fcolding, more Than when winds in our ruin'd abbeys rore. Then fick with poetry, and poffefs'd with muse Thou waft, and mad I hop'd; but men which chuse Law-practice for mere gain; bold foul repute Worfe than imbrothel'd ftrumpets prostitute. Now like an owl-like watchman he must walk, His hand ftill at a bill; now he must talk Idly, like prifoners, which whole months will fwear, That only furetyfhip hath brought them there, And to every fuitor lie in every thing, Like a king's favourite----or like a king,


[merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]


For you he walks the streets thro' rain or dust,
For not in chariots Peter puts his trust;
For you he sweats and labours at the laws,
Takes God to witness he affects your cause,
And lies to ev'ry lord in ev'ry thing,
Like a king's fav'rite----or like a king.
These are the talents that adoṛn them all,
From wicked Waters even to godly
Not more of Simony beneath black gowns,
Not more of bastardy in heirs to crowns.
In fhillings and in pence at first they deal;
And steal fo little, few perceive they fteal;
Till, like the fea, they compass all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover ftrand:
And when rank widows purchase luscious nights,
Or when a Duke to Jansen punts at White's,



[ocr errors]


Like a wedge in a block, wring to the barre,
Bearing like affes, and more fhameless farre
Than carted whores, lie to the grave judge; for
Bastardy abounds not in kings titles, nor
Simony and Sodomy in churchmen's lives,
As these things do in him; by these he thrives.
Shortly (as th' fea) he'll compass all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand.
And spying heirs melting with luxury,
Satan will not joy at their fins as he:
For (as a thrifty wench fcrapes kitchen-ftuff,
And barrelling the droppings, and the snuff
Of wafting candles, which in thirty year,
Reliquely kept, perchance buys wedding-chear)
Piecemeal he gets lands, and spends as much time
Wringing each arce, as maids pulling prime.

Or city-heir in mortgage melts away;
Satan himself feels far lefs joy than they.
Piecemeal they win this acre first, then that,
Glean on, and gather up the whole eftate.
Then ftrongly fencing ill got wealth by law,
Indentures, cov'nants, articles they draw,
Large as the fields themselves, and larger far 95
Than civil codes, with all their gloffes, are;
So vaft, our new Divines, we must confefs,
Are Fathers of the Church for writing lefs.
But let them write for you, each rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, fes heires; 100
No commentator can more flily pass
O'er a learn'd, unintelligible place;
Or, in quotation, fhrewd divines leave out
Those words, that would against them clear the


In parchment then, large as the fields, he draws
Affurances, big as glofs'd civil laws,
So huge that men (in our times forwardness)
Are fathers of the church for writing less.
These he writes not; nor for these written payes,
Therefore fpares no length (as in those first dayes
When Luther was profeft, he did defire
Short Pater-nofters, faying as a fryer

Each day his beads; but having left those laws, Adds to Chrift's prayer, the power and glory claufe)

But when he fells or changes land, h' impairs
The writings, and (unwatch'd) leaves out, fes



« EelmineJätka »