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But these punish themselves. The infolence
Of Cofcus, only, breeds my juft 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 ftate,
Than are new-benefic'd Minifters, he throws
Like nets or lime-twigs wherefoe'er he goes
His title of Barrifter on ev'ry wench,
And wooes in language of the Pleas and Bench.***
Words, words which would tear
The tender labyrinth of a Maid's foft ear:
More, more than ten Sclavonians fcolding, more
Than when winds in our ruin'd Abbyes roar.
Then fick with Poetry, and poffeft with Muse
Thou waft, and mad I hop'd; but men which chufe
Law practice for meer 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
One, one man only breeds my juft 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 wish 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 Barrifter 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 praife, if Peter but supplies,
And what a folemn face if he denies!
Grave, as when pris'ners thake the head and swear
'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 fwear,
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 compass 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-stuffe,
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 fpends 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 thofe firft 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 streets thro' rain or duft,
For not in Chariots Peter puts his truft;
For you he fweats and labours at the laws,
Takes God to witnefs he affects your cause,
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 Simany beneath black gowns,
Nor more of bastardy in heirs to Crowns.
In fhillings and in pence at firft 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 Janfen 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 ftrongly 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 fense; or, in Divinity
As controverters in vouch'd Texts, leave out Shrewd words, which might against them clear the doubt.
Where are these spread woods which cloath'd here
Thofe bought lands? not built, not burnt within
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 starve, 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.