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 praise, if Peter but supplies!
And what a folemn face, if he denies !
Grave, as when prifoners fhake the head and fwear
'Twas only Suretiship that brought them there.
His Office keeps your Parchment fates entire,
He starves with cold to fave them from the fire;
For you he walks the streets through rain or duft,
For not in Chariots Peter puts his trust ;
His title of Barrister on every 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 Abbeys roar.
Then fick with Poetry, and poffeft with Muse
Thou waft, and mad I hop'd; but men which chuse
Law practice for meer gain: bold foul repute
Worse than imbrothel❜d ftrumpets prostitute.
Now like an owl-like watchman he must walk,
His hand still at a bill; now he must talk
Idly, like prifoners, which whole months will fwear,
That only furetiship hath brought them there,
For you he fweats and labours at the laws,
Takes God to witness he affects your cause,
And lies to every Lord in every thing,
Like a King's Favourite-or like a King.
These are the talents that adorn 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 steal;
Till, like the Sea, they compass all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand:
And when rank Widows purchase luscious nights,
Or when a Duke to Janffen punts at White's,
Or City Heir in mortgage melts away;
Satan himself feels far lefs joy than they.
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
Bastardy abounds not in King's 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 compafs 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;
Piecemeal they win this acre firft, then that,
Glean on, and gather up the whole estate.
Then ftrongly fencing ill-got wealth by law,
Indentures, Covenants, 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 confess,
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less.
But let them write for you, each rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, fes beires :
No Commentator can more flily pafs
Over a learn'd, unintelligible place :
Or, in quotation, fhrewd Divines leave out
Those words, that would against them clear the doubt.
For (as a thrifty wench scrapes kitchen-stuffe,
And barrelling the dropings 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
When Luther was profeft, he did defire
Short Pater-nofters, faying as a Fryer
So Luther thought the Pater-nofter long, When doom'd to fay his beads and Even-fong; But having cast his cowl, and left those laws, Adds to Chrift's prayer, the Power and Glory clause. The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods, that fhaded all the ground? We fee no new-built palaces aspire,
No kitchens emulate the vestal fire.
Where are those troops of Poor, that throng'd of yore
The good old landlord's hofpitable door?
Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes
Some beafts were kill'd, though not whole hecatombs ;
That both extremes were banish'd from their walls,
Carthusian fasts, and fulfome Bacchanals;
And all mankind might that just Mean obferve,
In which none e'er could furfeit, none could starve.
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 beiress
As flily as any Commentator goes by
Hard words, or fenfe; or, in Divinity
As controverters in vouch'd Texts, leave out
Shrewd words, which might against them clear the doub Where are these spread woods which cloath'd here
Those bought lands not built, nor burnt within door. Where the old landlords troops and almes? In halls Carthufian Fafts, and fulfome Bachanals
|