Times Cvrtaine Drawne or The Anatomie of Vanitie. With other choice poems, Entituled; Health from Helicon. By Richard Brathwayte |
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Of Iniustice.
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 | Times Cvrtaine Drawne |  |
Of Iniustice.
Now vnto thee, to speake I must be bold,Who sets the Throne of Iustice to be sold,
Who to the Orphanes cry, and Widdows teare,
Voyd of remorse of Conscience, stops thine eare;
Who shines in purple, and in it doest show,
Farre worse then that, a Purple Conscience too:
Thou that doest vayle to Great ones and doest seeke
To gratifie their Lordsships, I must speake,
For if I should be silent, whisht, or doumbe,
The stones 'ith streetes I know would haue a tong.
Thou crams thy Coffers with a suites delay,
And like an Epicure from day to day
Feedes on delicious cates, which thou doest carue
To fill thy Maw, while th'poore for Iustice sterue.
Thou Philip-like sleepes, when th'widdow cryes
For Iustice at thy hands, and rubb'st thine eyes,
And rashly doest pronounce ere well prepar'd,
Thy Iudgement in that cause thou neuer heard:
From Philip sleeping, to Philip awake.
Thou Lætharge, thou that for promotion sake,
Contemnes thy soule, ruines that soueraigne state,
Which giues vs perfect Essence, thou that sleepes
When poore mens causes come to plea, but keepes
Thine eyes, thine eares, and euery facultie,
That thou in them might Rich-men gratifie.
For well thou know'st that wretches of this sort,
Either haue done, or will annoynt thee for't.
And yet thou snorts on still, making that Throne
Where Iustice vs'd to sit, a place vnknowne
To any that professeth her, whose sight
Eclipsed is, when right's put downe by might;
And loe, how right's supprest by thee proud whoor,
That makest the rich to triumph ore the poore.
Thou that contemns the weake and desolate,
Making them call for vengeance at thy gate:
Thou that hoords ire against the day of ire,
And shalt sustaine that soule consuming fire,
Endlesse in her consumption: it is thou
Which ruines ample Prouinces, where grew
Trophies of honour once, but through thy shame,
Haue lost their greatnesse, honour, worth, and fame.
For whence is th'Prouerbe spoke so commonly,
“Iustice's a Relique of Idolatry:
But as in auncient time when Idols were
So much ador'd and reuerenc'd euery where;
And Oracles, predictions of each state,
Told foolish people what should be their fate;
These Pagan Gods (or Deuils) would not tell
Ought good to them, that did not please them well,
(For this by times obseruance may gather)
Approue of any cause, how firme or iust
So ere it be, till shee be bribed first.
Or this same Prouerbe may produce good sence,
If it be not mis construed from hence;
As simple men thought none could happie be,
But such as reuerenc'd their Idolatrie;
Offring their Iewels, ornaments, and store,
To make their Idols rich, themselues as poore:
Supposing them thrice blessed, that could come
To heare good tydings from Apolloes tongue;
Whereas in deede if they the truth could seeke,
It was their Gifts which made Apollo speake.
So may we see men labour to this end,
To get, Sir Reuerence, Iustice, for their friend,
Which when they haue attain'd, they set no more
By all those doubts which they were in before,
Then doth the Sea-bit Mariner esteeme,
When he's a-land, those dangers he hath seene,
For why he knowes, he has a Patron got,
Who what his cause is, greatly standeth not;
For well he sees the Law is in his will,
To make the ill seeme good, the good seeme ill.
These be those Spiders that obscure the shine
of Iustice, which's depraued through the tyme
Wherein they liue, while Cripple Iustice halts,
Entituling th'Seruant to the Maisters faults.
For it's not th'fault of Iustice, but of Time,
To taxe the Seruant for the Masters crime.
But from Iniustice now must I descend,
To others Subiects, wishing that an end
Who staine with purple sins the Robes they weare;
Thus from thy foule infection I'le remoue me,
Meaning to leaue thee since I cannot loue thee.
FINIS.
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