University of Virginia Library

Before the next surprising Scene appear'd,
A noise of strange tumultuous Tongues I heard,
They nearer still approach'd, till grown as loud,
As the base Murmurs of a Trait'rous Crowd,
Rais'd by some Statesman's Tool, to perpetrate
Some ill Design against a sinking State.
At last in view there came a wond'rous Throng
Of fetter'd Convicts, all upon the Tongue:
Each to the other did confus'dly Prate,
Like tat'ling Gossips in a drunken Chat;
Or else like Temple Students, when they call,
To fright the crasie Bench, A Hall, a Hall:
Grave Robes and Gowns of sundry sorts they wore,
And many Badges of distinction bore,
Some old Grey-Heads, with Silk and Flax adorn'd,
Whose wrinkled Brows, as well as Toes, were Corn'd
By Wives too young for Sixty, and too old
To bribe off Loves enjoyments with their Husbands Gold,
Gouty and Lame these Sages limp'd along,
And were advanc'd the foremost in the Throng;
All seeming by their mercenary Looks
Cunning as Foxes, and as sharp as Hawks:
Their Palms look'd black, by taking Bribes of Coin,
As Slaves who labour in an Indian Mine:
Methoughts I heard 'em cry, Ne'er fear; go on,
My Fee, my Fee, your bus'ness shall be done;
Money's the Life, the Spirit of the Laws,
Find me but that, and never fear your Cause.
These were succeeded by the Clerks o'th' Court,
The lesser Scribes, that do the greater hurt,
Whose woful earnest of a Ten Groats Fee,
Enters the Client first in Miserie:
Of these some Beaus, and some precise in Bands,
With Parchment Rowls, like Truncheons in their Hands;
Their Pockets stuff'd with Scrawls, like Poet Bays,
For expedition some, and some delays;
Under their Arms green Woollen Snap-sacks hung,
Fill'd with learn'd Instruments of Right and Wrong.
There follow'd next to these a spurious sort
Of Pettyfogers, meer Locusts of the Court,
Who often help the former to deceive,
And eat up what the bigger Vermin leave.
Some by their Shop-board Looks were Taylors bred,
But broke, and on their Backs had scarce a Shred;
Not only in their Lives, but Looks were Knaves,
Litigious from their Cradles to their Graves.
Vers'd in those Querks, amongst the Scribes they saw,
After long Troubles did themselves withdraw,
From making Sutes of Cloaths, to manage Suits of Law:
Well knowing it requires an equal Skill,
To make a Lawyer's, or a Taylor's Bill.
Amongst this paltry Crew, were Ten to One
Bred up to Trades, but by the Law undone:
And thus distress'd, most equitably sought
Relief from that which had their Ruin brought:
Or else resolv'd, from being basely us'd,
T'abuse the Law, by which they'd been abus'd.
So the poor Wretch, who Witchcraft has endur'd,
If once she claws the envious Hag she's cur'd.
Some in Freeze-Coats, strait Wiggs, and flapping Hats,
Great Beards, and dirty Hands, like Counter Rats,
With Looks undaunted, at their Heels a Straw,
Bold Teasers and Tormenters in the Law:
Tho' all the knavish Knowledge they had in't,
Was learn'd i'th' Fryars, Newgate, or the Mint:
These in each Cause, to manifest their Care,
Wou'd, if they're hir'd, Sollicit or Forswear:
Stand stifly to a Point, the World might see,
Their Clients should, by them, no Suff'rers be.

Bailiffs and Hangmen did the next appear,
And Goalers too were crowded in the Rear;
Why these were mix'd, I ask'd, and 'twas because,
These were the Plagues and Periods of the Laws,
Whom all Mankind with equal Odium hate,
For Rog'ries done so despicably great.
These hung an Arse, and crept so slow along,
A Devil spurr'd them forward with his Prong:
And at their Laziness with Rage inflam'd,
Cry'd, move you Rogues, walk faster, and be damn'd.
A Hangman angry at the gross Affront,
Turn'd back his Head, and answer'd him as blunt,
Why Rogue, and please your Worship, what d'ye mean,
I have as honest as my Master's been:
I from all blame by Human Laws am freed,
And only finish'd what the Court decreed:
What if some Wretches should unjustly dye,
The Fault is not in me or my Imploy;
Those that Convicted 'em were R****s, not I.
These, tho' alike, by no means could agree,
Or to each Brother Villain civil be:
The Bailiffs on the Hangmen look'd awry,
Each Carnifex return'd an evil Eye,
As threat'ning to be with 'em by and by;
Like signs of Terror on their Brows did sit,
One fear'd a Rope, the other fear'd a Writ:
Mutual Aversions were on each entail'd,
From Bailiffs oft b'ing Hang'd, and Hangmen Goal'd:
'Twixt Fear and Hate they did each other greet,
As a poor Bankrupt, who by chance shall meet
The Creditor he's Cozen'd, in the Street.

Round the Infernal Court they all were haul'd,
The first Division to the Bar were call'd;
The Charge brought down from the High Court of Jove,
Of which they'd all Convicted been above:
Silence was first proclaim'd in the Divan,
And Hell's Attorney-General thus began:
My Lord, the Grave, Wise Culprits at the Bar,
Who rais'd amongst Mankind perpetual War;
By some call'd Lawyers, and by some Be-knav'd,
Who by sly Querks the Upper-World enslav'd;
Subtle as Foxes, who with Tongues, not Claws,
Dug themselves Holes, and burrow'd in the Laws;
Skill'd to unravel Justice, but instead,
A hundred Wrongs to one just Act they did;
Till by ill use so mercenary grown,
They valu'd no Man's welfare but their own:
By study'd means would tedious Suits create,
And spin each Contest to a long Debate;
For other Persons plead, but get themselves the Estate.
Justice behind so many Querks they've put,
None but the long full Purse can find her out.
In vain by Thousands has she oft been sought,
But seldom found but when too dearly bought.
These her dark Agents, to their Country's shame,
Gilded their Frauds and Knaveries with her Name,
But seldom would regard the hoodwink'd heavenly Dame.
Biass'd by Briberies to the strongest side,
Rich Men were serv'd, when Paupers were deny'd:
For golden Fees, each sold his silver Tongue;
The Money'd Cause was right, if starv'd, 'twas wrong.
The Poor thus slighted, seldom could prevail;
Large Fees the Pleader turn'd, and he the Scale,
From him to whom the Ballance should encline
By right, but perishes for want of Coin.
Contentious Suits and Quarrels they began,
Oft to th' undoing of the Just Good Man,
By wilful Flaws in Deeds, they might avoid:
Thus err'd with Pens, their Tongues might be imploy'd,
Till the poor Suff'rers Bags had largely paid,
For mending Faults their knavish Lawyers made.
If the Rich Miser ask'd their sage Advice
In a bad Case, they'd only say 'twas Nice:
But if their Client to the dregs was drawn,
And had no Money, or Estate to Pawn,
Tho' good his Cause, 'twas bad, not worth the carrying on.
So the Youth, poyson'd with a Harlot's Eye,
Is Hug'd and Flatter'd till she sucks him dry;
But when she's Jilted him of all she cou'd,
Foh! his Breath stinks, and all his Talk is rude.

Th' Infernal Orator now paus'd a space,
He hauk'd and spit, blow'd Nose, and wip'd his Face:
B'ing thus refresh'd, he turn'd his sawcer Eyes,
And to Attorneys thus himself applies,
You who in Times of old did Ink-horns wear
In Leathern Zones, and Pens in twisted Hair;
Whose Locks were Comb'd as lank, and cut as short,
As best should seem the pleasure of the Court.
Who now on Earth as num'rously abound,
As Rooks and Magpies in a new sown Ground:
These by foul Practice and Extortion thriv'd,
And beggar'd half the Country where they liv'd;
Reviv'd old Discords, kindl'd up new Flame,
And sow'd Contention wheresoe'er they came,
To pick the Purse of each laborious Slave,
Who Thrashes hard to feed the greedy Knave,
Buoy'd up with hopes he shall Victorious be;
He sweats and toils a Week to earn a Fee,
Then to next Market rides before his Dame,
And to his Scribe presents, with scraping Leg, the same;
Who bids the Booby Client chear his Heart,
And haughtily does bad Advice impart,
Fear not, says he, I'll make the Rascal smart;
But when his Purse has yielded up its Store,
His Cause proves bad, if he can bleed no more:
You told me wrong, did several things misplace,
Agree, agree, it proves an ugly Case.
Thus by long Bills stuff'd with unlawful Fees,
They tax'd the Farmer as themselves should please:
Improv'd litigious Suits by ill Advice,
Eat up full Barns and Acres in a trice,
And plagu'd the sinful Land like Egypt's Frogs and Lice.
As they from Leathern Belt to Sword arose,
And from a rural Grey to Town-made Cloaths,
The greater value on their Pains they laid,
The more impos'd, the Client still obey'd,
And scrap'd and bow'd more low at ev'ry word he said.
These were the Locust first from Envy bred,
Who like the Drone, on others Labours fed;
And such insatiate Appetites they shew,
As still devour'd, and still more hungry grew.
So the lean Miser that improves his Store,
Becomes more close and greedy than before,
And as he grows more Rich, the more he grinds the Poor.
This said, the pensive Scribes were all set by,
And to the Bar they call'd the lesser Fry,
Those worser Knaves, that Pestilential Throng,
Who in the Rear-Division march'd along,
The Court amaz'd to see so vile a Train,
The sable Pleader thus again began:
Of these, my Lord, but little need be said,
The worst of Rogues that Human Race e'er bred.
In Frauds and Cheats all others these excell,
A curse to Earth, and now a Shame to Hell.
Treach'rous their Trade, and odious as its Name,
Abhorr'd of all the World from whence they came:
These at no Crime or Villany would start,
But boast and glory in each roguish part,
Hell's sharpest Pains scarce equals their Desert.
Concluding thus, the Judge himself begins,
And pronounc'd Sentence in the following Lines:
You in grave Robes, most learn'd in Human Laws,
Who by locutious Arts could damn a Cause
Tho' ne'er so just, and make the wrong appear,
When e'er you pleas'd indisputably clear;
And since these Ills were all for Riches done,
A melted Mine of Gold shall ever run,
Upon your greedy Palms, and drop upon each Tongue.
Thus shall your Crimes (by this my just Decree,)
Done for the lucre of a golden Fee,
With Gold be punish'd to Eternity.
And you the mercenary Clerks o'th' Court,
Who made your Clients ruine but your Sport,
And by Neglect, or by unlawful Speed,
Gave Mortals twice the trouble that you need;
Who held it just, in practice of the Laws,
To widen Discords, and prolong the Cause,
Whilst the large Purse did with advantage fight,
And conquer'd him that had the greatest Right;
Then with long Bills the vanquish'd Wretch pursue,
And make him pay half double what's his due,
To you a new-found Punishment I'll give,
Amongst old Hags and Furies shall you live,
There Scratch and Claw, and in confusion fight,
Till Hell wants Darkness, and the Heavens Light;
There shall you strive to mitigate your Pain,
And reconcile your Foes, but all in vain.
Furies shall scourge you with their Scorpion-Rods,
Beneath the reach of Mercy from the Gods,
Thus dwell involv'd in Night, eternally at odds.
And as for you,

Bailiffs and Hangmen.

curs'd even from your Birth,
The very dregs of all the Rogues on Earth,
Offspring of Devils, and by Nature base,
Ne'er bless'd with one small Ray of Heav'ns Grace,
But led to Crimes, by such degen'rate Wills,
That knew no Pleasure but in acting Ills,
The hottest Mansions of the deep Abyss,
Where fiery Snakes and Salamanders hiss,
To those dire Confines shall you all be sent,
Where Fires at once shall quicken and torment;
And as you burn, Hell's Roof shall open'd be,
You distant Souls in Paradise may see,
And by their Joy, encrease your own sad Misery.
Thus Radamanthus spoke —
Then did the Guards their proper Pris'ners take,
And, by force, drag them to the burning Lake,
Who hung an Arse, like Bears, when hauling to the Stake.