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 Corrupted Lawyer, and a knauish Vndershriue.
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 | All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet |  |
A Corrupted Lawyer, and a knauish Vndershriue.
The Argvment.
The soule of Common-wealths is in good Lawes,Their execution makes a happie State,
But where Corruption opes his hungry Jawes;
Where Lawyers doe increase, not cease debate,
Such Law-wormes are the Diuels dearest brood,
Who make the common-harme their priuate good.
A hall, a hall, the tramplers are at hand,
A shifting Master, and as sweetly man'd:
His Buckram-bearer, one that knowes his ku,
Can write with one hand and receiue with two.
The trampler is in hast, O cleere the way,
Takes fees with both hands cause he cannot stay,
No matter wheth'r the cause be right or wrong,
So hee be payd for letting out his tongue.
Me thinkes that posie which the Painters score
Vpon Inne posts, would fit this fellowes doore,
Because he lets his Conscience out for fee,
That here's a Tongue that's let at liuery.
This pettifogger, like a Lapland Witch,
Sels his winde deare, and so growes diuellish rich:
Breath is his life, and deare he'le sell his breath,
The more he wastes, the nearer is his death.
To begger any man he will not straine
His voyce, except they pay him for his paine.
He best doth fare where Clients fare the worse,
And euery meale hath first and second course,
The dishes that come first vp to the messe,
Are Brawles and quarrels, strife, vnquietnesse,
Contentions, emulations, and debate,
These furnish forth his table in great slate.
And then for picking-meat, or daintie bits,
The second course is Actions, cases, writs:
Long Suits from Terme to terme, and Fines and fees,
At the last cast comes in for Fruit and cheese.
The man of all men, most in art excel'd,
That in Great Britaine would Contention geld,
And by that meanes could make a good preuention,
Contention would beget no more contention.
This Lawyers riches euer springs and bloomes,
From sheeps coat, calues skin, russet hobnaild grooms
Perswading them that all things shall goe well,
Suckes out the Egge, leaues them the emptie shell,
He hath a sleight in spinning out a Cause,
Till all the money out of purse it drawes,
His Clients with full budgets come to towne,
But he takes order for their going downe,
The full is now the Lawyers, theirs the wane,
Like buckets turn'd to come vp full againe:
With papers laden thinke themselues most firme,
Carries them downe, to bring them vp next terme,
Horse plow, and cattle goe to wracke, split all,
Tis fit the Stable waite vpon the Hall.
Their sheepe the parchment beares, their Geese the quils,
Which turnes their state as this bad Lawyer wils.
Their shirts the paper makes, their Bees the wax,
T'vndoe themselues that good discretion lacks,
These men like Geese against themselues doe things,
In plucking quils from their owne foolish wings,
This Lawyer makes his dang'rous shafts withall,
And shootes them at the fooles frō whence they fall.
The Common-wealths Impostum hee doth cut,
And the corruption in his purse doth put,
One giues him for a bribe, a Brawne or swine,
And thats drown'd with anothers But of wine,
One giues a Coach all deckt and painted gay.
Anothers Horses drawes it quite away,
One giues a Jarre of Oyle to scape the foile,
An Oxe o'returnes the Iarre, and spils the Oyle.
And thus like Pharaohs Kine, he hath the power,
To make the fattest bribes the leane deuoure.
His motions moue commotions, and his suites,
Foure times a yeare doe Termely yeeld him fruits.
Foure sundry wayes a Kingdomes Lawes are vs'd,
By two maintained, and by two abus'd:
Good Lawyers liue by Law, and 'tis most fit,
Good men obey the Law, liue vnder it.
Bad Lawyers (for their gaine) doe wrest the Law,
Bad men of God or mans Law haue no awe.
But whether these men vse Law well or ill,
Th'intention of the Law is honest still.
For as the text is rent, and torne, and varied,
And by opinions from the fence is carried
By ignorant and wilfull Hereticks,
Or impure separating Schismaticks,
Though from the truth of text all men should seuer,
The text is permanent and Sacred euer.
Euen so the Law is in it selfe vpright,
Correcting and protecting, wrong and right:
Tis no just Lawyers, or the Lawes defame,
Although some hounds of hell abuse the same.
This Cormorant I meane, gulps whom he list,
And hauing swallow'd fees into his fist,
Deferres the motion till the Court with-drawes,
Then to the cushions pleads the poore mans cause,
As formally as if the Iudges sate,
No matter for the man, the money's gat.
My Cormorant was neuer match'd till now,
If I said o'rematch'd, Ile resolue you how,
And you that reade it shall confesse it true,
Perhaps it is a thing well knowne to you,
Where Corm'rants haunts, numbers of fish grow lesse,
But where bad Lawyers come, there brawles increase.
A shifting Master, and as sweetly man'd:
His Buckram-bearer, one that knowes his ku,
Can write with one hand and receiue with two.
The trampler is in hast, O cleere the way,
Takes fees with both hands cause he cannot stay,
No matter wheth'r the cause be right or wrong,
So hee be payd for letting out his tongue.
Me thinkes that posie which the Painters score
Vpon Inne posts, would fit this fellowes doore,
Because he lets his Conscience out for fee,
That here's a Tongue that's let at liuery.
This pettifogger, like a Lapland Witch,
Sels his winde deare, and so growes diuellish rich:
Breath is his life, and deare he'le sell his breath,
The more he wastes, the nearer is his death.
To begger any man he will not straine
His voyce, except they pay him for his paine.
He best doth fare where Clients fare the worse,
And euery meale hath first and second course,
The dishes that come first vp to the messe,
Are Brawles and quarrels, strife, vnquietnesse,
Contentions, emulations, and debate,
These furnish forth his table in great slate.
And then for picking-meat, or daintie bits,
The second course is Actions, cases, writs:
Long Suits from Terme to terme, and Fines and fees,
At the last cast comes in for Fruit and cheese.
The man of all men, most in art excel'd,
That in Great Britaine would Contention geld,
And by that meanes could make a good preuention,
Contention would beget no more contention.
This Lawyers riches euer springs and bloomes,
From sheeps coat, calues skin, russet hobnaild grooms
Perswading them that all things shall goe well,
Suckes out the Egge, leaues them the emptie shell,
He hath a sleight in spinning out a Cause,
Till all the money out of purse it drawes,
His Clients with full budgets come to towne,
But he takes order for their going downe,
The full is now the Lawyers, theirs the wane,
Like buckets turn'd to come vp full againe:
With papers laden thinke themselues most firme,
Carries them downe, to bring them vp next terme,
Horse plow, and cattle goe to wracke, split all,
Tis fit the Stable waite vpon the Hall.
Their sheepe the parchment beares, their Geese the quils,
Which turnes their state as this bad Lawyer wils.
Their shirts the paper makes, their Bees the wax,
T'vndoe themselues that good discretion lacks,
These men like Geese against themselues doe things,
In plucking quils from their owne foolish wings,
This Lawyer makes his dang'rous shafts withall,
And shootes them at the fooles frō whence they fall.
The Common-wealths Impostum hee doth cut,
And the corruption in his purse doth put,
One giues him for a bribe, a Brawne or swine,
And thats drown'd with anothers But of wine,
14
Anothers Horses drawes it quite away,
One giues a Jarre of Oyle to scape the foile,
An Oxe o'returnes the Iarre, and spils the Oyle.
And thus like Pharaohs Kine, he hath the power,
To make the fattest bribes the leane deuoure.
His motions moue commotions, and his suites,
Foure times a yeare doe Termely yeeld him fruits.
Foure sundry wayes a Kingdomes Lawes are vs'd,
By two maintained, and by two abus'd:
Good Lawyers liue by Law, and 'tis most fit,
Good men obey the Law, liue vnder it.
Bad Lawyers (for their gaine) doe wrest the Law,
Bad men of God or mans Law haue no awe.
But whether these men vse Law well or ill,
Th'intention of the Law is honest still.
For as the text is rent, and torne, and varied,
And by opinions from the fence is carried
By ignorant and wilfull Hereticks,
Or impure separating Schismaticks,
Though from the truth of text all men should seuer,
The text is permanent and Sacred euer.
Euen so the Law is in it selfe vpright,
Correcting and protecting, wrong and right:
Tis no just Lawyers, or the Lawes defame,
Although some hounds of hell abuse the same.
This Cormorant I meane, gulps whom he list,
And hauing swallow'd fees into his fist,
Deferres the motion till the Court with-drawes,
Then to the cushions pleads the poore mans cause,
As formally as if the Iudges sate,
No matter for the man, the money's gat.
My Cormorant was neuer match'd till now,
If I said o'rematch'd, Ile resolue you how,
And you that reade it shall confesse it true,
Perhaps it is a thing well knowne to you,
Where Corm'rants haunts, numbers of fish grow lesse,
But where bad Lawyers come, there brawles increase.
Now master Undershrieue I vnderstand,
You bring my Lawyer worke vnto his hand,
You bring him stuffe, hee like a Taylor cuts it.
And into any shape hee pleaseth puts it.
Though to the Client it appeare slight stuffe,
It shall out-last him any suite of Buffe:
For though from terme to terme it be worne long.
Tis drest still with the teazle of the tongue,
That (though it be old) at euery day of hearing,
It lookes fresh, as't had neuer come to wearing.
And though it seeme as th'owner neuer wore it.
A Broaker will not giue him three-pence for it.
Sweet master Shrieue, let it not grieue your mind,
You being the last o'th brood, come last behind,
No doubt you might be first in a bad case,
But being call'd vnder, I make this your place:
I know where e're you stand, you are so good,
You'l scorne to be vnlike one of the brood,
And tak't in dudgeon (as you might no doubt)
If 'mongst this ranke of Corm'rants you were out.
I haue a warrant heere for what I doe,
Plaine truth it selfe, and that haue seldome you.
Some of your tribe a man may honest call,
But those my Corm'rant meddles not withall.
You that dare fright men of a shallow wit,
Who cannot read when there is nothing writ:
And can returne (when you are pleas'd to saue)
A Non inuentus for a bribing knaue.
For one that stands indebted to the King
A Nihil habet, if his purse can ring.
When a poore man shall haue his Bullockes ceaz'd,
And priz'd at little, to make you appeaz'd
You haue the art and skill to raze words out
Of Writs and Warrants, to bring gaine about.
I will not serue you so, for if you looke,
Your name stands fairely printed in my booke,
For euery one to reade, how you can straine
On Widowes goods, and restore none againe.
Picke Iuries for your purpose, which is worse
Then if you pick'd the wronged Plaintiffes purse:
Returne your Writs to your aduantage best,
Bring in some money, and drab out the rest.
Leauing (oft times) the high Shrieue in the lurch,
Who stops the bountie should repaire the Church,
Or buy some Bels to sound out his deuotion.
If either Ayre, or Earth, or the wide Ocean
Can shew worse Cormorants, or any brooke,
I'le neuer aske a penny for my Booke.
You bring my Lawyer worke vnto his hand,
You bring him stuffe, hee like a Taylor cuts it.
And into any shape hee pleaseth puts it.
Though to the Client it appeare slight stuffe,
It shall out-last him any suite of Buffe:
For though from terme to terme it be worne long.
Tis drest still with the teazle of the tongue,
That (though it be old) at euery day of hearing,
It lookes fresh, as't had neuer come to wearing.
And though it seeme as th'owner neuer wore it.
A Broaker will not giue him three-pence for it.
Sweet master Shrieue, let it not grieue your mind,
You being the last o'th brood, come last behind,
No doubt you might be first in a bad case,
But being call'd vnder, I make this your place:
I know where e're you stand, you are so good,
You'l scorne to be vnlike one of the brood,
And tak't in dudgeon (as you might no doubt)
If 'mongst this ranke of Corm'rants you were out.
I haue a warrant heere for what I doe,
Plaine truth it selfe, and that haue seldome you.
Some of your tribe a man may honest call,
But those my Corm'rant meddles not withall.
You that dare fright men of a shallow wit,
Who cannot read when there is nothing writ:
And can returne (when you are pleas'd to saue)
A Non inuentus for a bribing knaue.
For one that stands indebted to the King
A Nihil habet, if his purse can ring.
When a poore man shall haue his Bullockes ceaz'd,
And priz'd at little, to make you appeaz'd
You haue the art and skill to raze words out
Of Writs and Warrants, to bring gaine about.
I will not serue you so, for if you looke,
Your name stands fairely printed in my booke,
For euery one to reade, how you can straine
On Widowes goods, and restore none againe.
Picke Iuries for your purpose, which is worse
Then if you pick'd the wronged Plaintiffes purse:
Returne your Writs to your aduantage best,
Bring in some money, and drab out the rest.
Leauing (oft times) the high Shrieue in the lurch,
Who stops the bountie should repaire the Church,
Or buy some Bels to sound out his deuotion.
If either Ayre, or Earth, or the wide Ocean
Can shew worse Cormorants, or any brooke,
I'le neuer aske a penny for my Booke.
| All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet | |