« EelmineJätka »
One, one man only breeds my just offence; Whom crimes gave wealth, and wealth gave Impudence: Time, that at laft 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 pofitive than he.
What further could I wifh the fop to do,
But turn a wit, and fcribble verses too;
Pierce the foft lab'rinth of a Lady's ear
With rhymes of this per cent. and that per year?
Or court a Wife, fpread 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?
Language, which Boreas might to Auster hold
More rough than forty Germans when they scold.
Curs'd be the wretch, fo venal and fo 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 praise, if Peter but fupplies,
And what a folemn face if he denies !
Grave, as when pris'ners thake the head and fwear
'Twas only Suretiship that brought 'em there.
His Office keeps your Parchment fates entire,
He ftarves with cold to fave them from the fire;
Idly, like prifoners, which whole months will swear,
That only furetyship hath brought them there,
And to every fuitor lye in every thing,
Like a King's Favourite-or like a King.
Like a wedge in a block, wring to the barre,
Bearing like affes, and more fhameless farre
Than carted whores, lye to the grave Judge; for
Baftardy abounds not in King's titles, nor
Simony and Sodomy in Church-men's lives,
As these things do in him; by these he thrives.
Shortly (as th' fea) he'll compafs all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover ftrand,
And spying heirs melting with Luxury,
Satan will not joy at their fins as he :
For (as a thrifty wench fcrapes kitchen-ftuffe,
And barrelling the droppings, and the fnuffe
Of wafting candles, which in thirty year,
Reliquely kept, perchance buys wedding chear)
Piecemeal he gets lands, and spends as much time
Wringing each acre, as maids pulling prime.
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 lefs.
These he writes not; nor for these written payes,
Therefore fpares no length, (as in those first dayes
His comparing Advocates inforcing the Law to the Bench, to a wedge in a block, our Author juftly thought too licentious to be imitated.
For you he walks the ftreets thro' rain or duft,
For not in Chariots Peter puts his truft;
For you he sweats and labours at the laws,
Takes God to witness he affects your caufe,
And lies to ev'ry Lord in ev'ry thing,
Like a King's Favourite-or like a King.
'These are the talents that adorn them all,
From wicked Waters ev'n to godly * *
Not more of Simony beneath black gowns,
Nor more of baftardy in heirs to Crowns.
In fhillings and in pence at first they deal;
And steal fo little, few perceive they steal;
Till, like the Sea, they compafs all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover ftrand: 85
And when rank Widows purchase luscious nights,
Or when a Duke to Jansen punts at White's,
Or City-heir in mortgage melts away;
Satan himself feels far lefs joy than they.
Piccemeal they win this acre firft, then that,
Glean on, and gather up the whole estate.
Then strongly fencing ill-got wealth by law,
Indentures, Cov'nants, Articles they draw,
Large as the fields themselves, and larger far
Than Civil Codes, with all their Gloffes, are;
So vaft, our new Divines, we must confefs,
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less.
But let them write for you, each rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, fes heires:
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 clause)
But when he fells or changes land, h'impaires
The writings, and (unwatch'd) leaves out, fes heires,
As flily as any Commenter goes by
Hard words, or sense; or, in Divinity
As controverters in vouch'd Texts, leave out
Shrewd words, which might against them clear the
Where are these spread woods which cloath'd heretofore
Those bought lands? not built, not burnt within door.
Where the old landlords troops, and almes? In halls Carthufian Fafts, and fulfome Bacchanals
Equally I hate. Mean's bleft. In rich men's homes I bid kill fome beafts, but no hecatombs ;
None ftarve, none furfeit fo. But (oh) we allow
Good works as good, but out of fashion now,
Like old rich wardrobes. But my words none draws
Within the vaft reach of th' huge ftatutes jawes.
VER. 127. Treafon, or the Law.] By the Law is here meant the Lawyers.
No Commentator can more flily pafs
O'er a learn'd, unintelligible place;
Or, in quotation, fhrewd Divines leave out
Those words, that would against them clear the doubt.
So Luther thought the Pater-nofter long,
When doom'd to fay his beads and Even fong; 105
But having caft his cowle, and left those laws,
Adds to Chrift's pray'r, the Pow'r and Glory clause.
The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods, that shaded all the ground? We fee no new-built palaces afpire,
No kitchens emulate the veftal fire.
Where are those troops of Poor, that throng'd of yore The good old landlord's hospitable door?
Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes
Some beasts were kill'd, tho' not whole hecatombs ;
That both extremes were banish'd from their walls,
Carthufian fafts, and fulfome Bacchanals;
And all mankind might that just Mean observe,
In which none e'er could furfeit, none could starve.
These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow;
But oh! thefe works are not in fashion now:
Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare,
Extremely fine, but what no man will wear.
Thus much I've faid, I truft, without offence;
Let no Court Sycophant pervert my sense,
Nor fly Informer watch these words to draw
Within the reach of Treafon, or the Law.,