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All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet

Being Sixty and three in Number. Collected into one Volume by the Author [i.e. John Taylor]: With sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted

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A Trust-breaker.

The Argvment.

A Foe to Iustice, a corrupted Friend,
An outward Angell, and an inward Fiend;
A hidden Serpent, a most subtile Fox,
A Sugred poyson, in a painted Box:
A Syrens song, alluring to mishap,
A Snare to Honesty, and Vertues trap.
The Rich Trust breaker, vpon whom hell waites
Doth thrust into the Riuer of Estates,
His soule deuouring Beake, and at one prey
Will swallow fourteene Tradesmen in a day;
As many of the Country Lordships slips
Flapdragon like, by his insatiate lips,
The Father sometimes hath beene oft vndone,
By too much trusting his vnnaturall Sonne,
And a Trust-breaker hath a tricke in's pate
To bring a rich Ward to a Beggers flate.
For some corrupted men haue got tuition,
Of rich mens Heires, and changed their condition
With false inducements to Recusancy,
Or suffring them through prodigality
To run so farre in debt that all their Lands
Are lost before they come into their hands.
Faire Schooles of learning haue bin built frō ground
For Boyes whose fathers were not worth fiue pound;
But false Trust-breakers hold it for no sinne,
To keepe out poore mens Sonnes, take rich mens in.
This Breach of Trust is multiplide in time
T' a Catholike and vniuersall crime,
That man to man is growne so much vniust,
That hee's a wise man that knowes who to trust.
But (if there be such) they doe want much care,
Who trust not in the world, nor trusted are.
Collectorships the Common wealth may lurch,
For Burnings, Highwayes, Bridges, or the Church,
For losse at Sea, for Hospitals and Schooles,
One hundred knaues, may make ten thousand fooles.
Yet these things are so needfull as I wot,
Hee's a base villaine that contributes not,
But hee's a Hell-hound that their Trust deceiues,
And the right due from those that want bereaues:
Why, this Trust-breaking hath the ex'lent skill
To make a Wife to burne her Husbands Will,
Because his first Wiues Children should not haue
The Portions that within that Will he gaue.
And oftentimes a gasping man for breath,
Distracted with the griping pangs of death,
Hath to a forged will suscrib'd his hand,
And dispossest his owne Sonne of his Land.
Trust-breakers may a sencelesse hand so frame,
(Though being sixe houres dead) to write a Name,
A rich man's wealth that's dead's like vntold gold,
And that's because it's neuer truely told:
For like to pitch it hath polluting tricks,
And some vnto the fing'rers fingers sticks:
But of all Rascals since the world began,
The Banckrupt Pollitick's the onely man,
In courteous fashion many hee'l vndo,
And be much pittyed and rewarded too:
For hauing got much wealth into his clawes,
He holds it faster then a Cormorants jawes
Can hold a silly fish, and at the last,
Himselfe, himselfe will into prison cast.
And hauing broke for thousands, there the hound
Compounds perhaps for ten groates in the pound,
Sets richly vp againe till him he sees,
To breake, to prison againe, againe agrees:
And thus a cunning knaue can with a trice,
Breake, and be whole againe, once, twice or thrice.
These Cormorants are worse then theeues therefore,
And being worse, deserue a hanging more.
A Thiefe speaks what he means, and takes your purse
A Banckrupt flattering robs you ten times worse.
The one doth seldome rob ye of all your pelfe,
The other leaues you nought to helpe your selfe:
And yet the one for a little theeuing may,
At Tiburne make a hanging holyday;
Whilest the great Thiefe may with a golden prop
To faire Reuenues turne a Pedlers shop.
In this voracity Father stands not free
From his owne Sonne, nor from his vnckle, he
Being made Executor to'th Scates of men,
My Corm'rant is a piddler to him then.
He will by cunning and vexation draw,
Heire, wealth and All, into his rauenous maw,
And when his gorge is full vp to the brim,
Into some loathsome prison vomits him.
There leaues the honour of a house and name,
To be exchang'd for miserie and shame:
Now tell me they that loue faire truth indeed,
If such mawes doe not Corm'rants guts exceed.
And to what place soeuer such resort,
They are the Fowle Birds both in Towne and Court.