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For you
he sweats and labours at the laws,

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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 shillings and in pence at first they deal;
And steal so 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 Janssen punts at White's,
Or City Heir in mortgage melts away ;
Satan himself feels far less joy than they.

90 Piecemeal

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And to every suitor 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 asses, and more shameless 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' sea) he'll compass 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 first, then that,
Glean on, and gather up the whole estate.
Then strongly fencing ill-got wealth by law,
Indentures, Covenants, Articles they draw,
Large as the fields themselves, and larger far

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Than Civil Codes, with all their Glosses, are;
So vast, 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 Nily pass
Over a learn'd, unintelligible place :
Or, in quotation, shrewd Divines leave out
Those words, that would against them clear the doubt.

So

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For (as a thrifty wench scrapes kitchen-stuffe,
And barrelling the dropings and the snuffe
Of wasting 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
Assurances, big as gloss'd civil laws,
So huge that men (in our times forwardness)
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less
These he writeś not; nor for these written payes,
Therefore fpares no length (as in those firft dayes
When Luther was profest, he did defire
Short Pater-nosterš, saying as a Fryer

So Luther thought the Patér-nofter long, 105 When doom'd to fay his beads and Even-fong; But having cast his cowl, and left those laws, Adds to Christ's prayer, the Power and Glory clause.

The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods, that shaded all the ground ? 110 We see 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 hospitable door? Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes 115 Some beasts were kill'd, though not whole hecatombs; That both extremes were banıfh'd from their walls, Carthufian fasts, and fulsome Bacchanals; And all mankind might that just Mean observe, In which none e'er could surfeit, none could starve.

There

Each day his Beads : but having left those laws,
Adds to Christ's

prayer,

the
power

and glory clause)
But when he fells or changes land, h’ impaires
The writings, and (unwatch’d) leaves out, ses beiresg.
As lily as any Commentator goes by
Hard words, or fense ; or, in Divinity
As controverters in vouch'd Texts, leave out
Shrewd words, which might against them clear the doubre
Where are these spread woods which cloath'd here-

tofore Those bought lands ? not built, nor burnt within door, Where the old landlords troops and almes? In -halls: Carthufian Falts, and fulsome Bachanals

These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow,
But oh! these works are not in fashion now :
Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare,
Extremely fine, but what nu man will wear.

Thus much I've said, I trust, without offence;
Let no Court Sycophant pervert my sense,
Nor sy Informer watch these words to draw
Within the reach of Treason, or the Law.

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Equally I hate. Means blest. In rich men's homes
I bid kill come beasts, but no hecatombs;
None starve, none surfeit so. But (oh) we allow
Good works as good, but out of fashion now,
Like old rich wardrobes. But my words none draws
Within the vast reach of th' huge statutes jawes.

SATIRE IV. WE

ELL, if it be my time to quit the stage,

Adieu to all the follies of the age !
I die in charity with fool and knave,
Secure of peace at least beyond the grave,
I've had my Purgatory here betimes,
And paid for all my fatires, all my rhymes.
The Poet's hell, its tortures, fiends, and flames,
To this were trifles, toys, and empty names.

With foolish pride my heart was never fir’d,
Nor the vain itch t'admire, or be admir'd;
I hop'd for no commission from his Grace;
I bought no benefice, I begg'd no place;
Had no new verses, nor new suit to show;
Yet went to Court !- the Devil would have it fo.

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But,

S A TIRE IV. W!

ELL; I may now receive, and die. My un

Indeed is great, but yet I have been in
A Purgatory, such as fear'd Hell is
A recreation, and scant map of this.

My mind, neither with pride's itch, nor hath been
Poyson'd with love to see or to be seen,
I had no suit there, nor new suit to show,
Yet went to Court; but as Glare which did go

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