The water-cormorant his complaint against a brood of land-cormorants. Diuided into fourteene satyres. By Iohn Taylor.

The water-cormorant his complaint against a brood of land-cormorants. Diuided into fourteene satyres. By Iohn Taylor.

Table of contents

Title page

To Gentlemen, and those that are gentle.

A brood of CORMORANTS.

A Jesuite.

A Separatist.

A Trust-breaker.

A Drunkard.

A prodigall Country Gallant, and his new made Maddam.

An Extortioner and a Broaker.

A Basket Iustice.

A Cutpurse.

A good and a bad Constable.

A London Serieant and Iaylor.

A Symonicall Patron, and his penny Clarke.

A Country Yeoman.

A Figure flinger, or a couzning cunning man.

A Corrupted Lawyer, and a knauish Vndershriefe.

EPILOGVE.

§

§

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THE WATER-CORMORANT HIS COMPLAINT: Against a Brood of Land-Cormorants.

Diuided into fourteene Satyres.

By IOHN TAYLOR.

1 A Iesuite.

2 A Separatist.

A Trust-breaker.

A Drunkard.

A prodigall Gallant.

An Extortioner & broker

A Basket-Iustice.

A Cutpurse.

A good & bad Constable

A Serieant & Iailor.

A Patron & his Clark.

A Country-Yeoman.

A Figure-flinger.

A Lawyer, & Vndershriefe

My Cormorant against these doth inuey,

And proues himself much better far then they

[figure]

LONDON,

Printed by GEORGE ELD. 1622.

To Gentlemen, and those that are gentle.

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SVbiects may seeme scarce, or Printers lacke worke, when a Cormorant flies into the Presse, yet Cormorants oppresse and therefore worthy to be prest; but my Cormorant hath neither dipt his tongue in oile to smooth the faults of the vicious, nor stop'd his mouth to conceale the merits of the vertuous: I haue thought good to sympathize a subiect fit for the time, and I haue done my best to handle it in a sutable straine.

The Cormorant is not easily induced to affability, nor I to flattery.

His best seruice is harsh and vnsociable, so is my style. His biting is sharpe and piercing, so is my phrase. His throat is wide and spacious, my subiect is spacious. His colour is blacke, I discouer deeds of darknesse. He grubs and spuddles for his prey in muddy holes and obscure cauerns, my Muse ferrits base debaushed wretches in their swinish dens. He like the Crocodile moues the vpper chap, this Treatise condemnes that beasts dissimulation. He swallows downe his meate without taste, this booke distastes such as sinne without touch of conscience.

The ods is, my Cormorants appetite is limited, but most of theirs is vnsatiable.

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I ayme not at such mens slips as may fall by infirmity, for that were like Esops crab, to offer to teach others to goe right, going crooked my selfe.

Detraction is a priuate wounding of a mans name, and flattery a deuourer of men aliue. If I can sayle betwixt these two, and not be split, I shall ariue at my desired port.

In my passage I shall haue Polipheme casting Rockes to sincke me, Criticks misconstruing my words, like spiders sucking poyson out of wholesome flowers.

But from these Antipodes to goodnesse, by their Antithesis to nature, I appeale to my conscience which is a witnesse to me that can neither accuse or condemne me.

I ayme at none but such as deuoure others, and yet make shift to keepe themselues out of the reach of law, I name none personally, and therefore wish the faulty to amend with silence rather then by rubbing of a spot to make a hole in the whole cloath, for I leaue gleanings enough to make a second part if need require. Such stomacks as cannot digest this dish, let me rather be to them a choake peare then a Gudgeon.

There is no degree of man or woman, whatsoeuer, from the Court to the Cottage, or from the Pallace to the Plough, but may make good vse of this Poem, either for merry recreation, or vices defamation: and in a word, if it please the iudicious, or be any way profitable to the confirming of the good, or reforming the bad, I have then my full recompence, with the effect of my intentions and wishes.

Iohn Taylor.

A brood of CORMORANTS.

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A Jesuite.

THE ARGVMENT.

King-killing monsters, out of Heauens mouth flow'd.

Ca [...]ers, and Butchers vnto Rome and Hell:

The bane of youth and age, in bloud imbrow'd:

Perditions gulfe, where all foule Treasons dwell.

[...], liues, and soules vnder the sauing stile

Of Iesus, they deuour, confound, beguile.

IN setting downe this sect of blood compact,

Me thinkes I see a tragicke Sceane in act:

The Stage all hang'd with the sad death of Kings,

From whose bewailing story sorrow springs;

The Actors dipt in cruelty and blood,

Yet make bad deeds passe in the name of good.

And kindling new commotions, they conspire

With their hot Zeale to see whole Realmes on fire;

As twas apparent when they did combine,

Against vs, in their fatall powder Mine.

All hell for that blacke treason was plow'd vp,

And mischiefe dranke deepe of damnations cup:

The whole vast Ocean sea, no harbour grants

To such deuouring greedy Cormorants,

In the wide gulfe of their abhor'd designes

Are thoughts that find no roome in honest minds.

And now I speake of Rome euen in her sea,

The Iesuits the dang'rous whirlepooles be,

Religions are made waues, that rise and fall

Before the wind or breath Pontificall.

The Pope sends stormes forth, feuers or combines,

According to his mood it raines or shines,

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And who is ready to put all his will

In execution, but the Iesuit still.

Nor hath this Cormorant long tane degree,

For Esacus more ancient is then he:

Yeares thousands since Troyes sonne he was created,

And from a man but to bird translated,

VVhereas the Iesuit deriues descent

But from Ignatius Loyola, that went

For a maim'd Spanish souldier, but herein

The difference rises, which hath euer bin:

From man to bird, one's changed shape began,

The other to a diuell from a man.

Yet herein these wide maw'd Esacians,

May well agree with these Ignatians,

First black's the coulour of the greedy Fowle,

And black's the Iesuits habite like his soule,

The bird is leane though oft he be full craw'd,

The Iesuit's hatchet fac'd, and wattle iaw'd,

The Cormorant (as nature best befits)

Still without chewing doth deuoure whole bits,

So Iesuits swallow many a lordly liuing,

All at a gulp without grace or thanksgiuing.

The birds throat (gaping) without intermission,

Resembles their most cruell inquisition,

From neither is, non est redemptio,

For what into the Corm'rants throat doth goe,

Or Iesuits Barrathrum doth once retaine,

It ne're returnes fit for good vse againe.

Eighty yeares since he stole the Epethite

From Iesus, to be cal'd a Iesuite,

But I could find him out a style more right,

From Iudas to be nam'd Iscariotite.

Though Paul the third their title did approue,

Yet he confin'd their number, that aboue

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Threescore they should not be, and yet we see

How much encreased now the Vipers be,

That many a thousand Christian lies and grones

Vnder the slau'ry of these diuellish drones.

And he that knowes but truly what they are,

Will iudge a Cormorant's their better farre.

A Separatist.

THE ARGVMENT.

Here earth and hell haue made a false commixion.

Of painted zeale, and holinesse, and loue:

Of Faith, of Hope, of Charitie (in fiction)

In smoake and shadowes, as the fruits doe proue.

Hypocrisie, which long pray'rs doth repeate,

Deuoureth Widowes, and poore Orphans cheate.

NOw enters next, to play his Oylie part

A Saint in tongue, but a rough diuell in heart:

One that so smoothly swallowes his prey downe,

Without wrath shewne, or any seeming frowne.

You'd thinke him when he does it, in a Psalme,

Or at his prayers, hee's so milde and calme:

No noyse, no trouble to his conscience cries,

For he deuours his prey with heau'd vp eyes.

Stands most demurely swallowing downe his bit,

And lickes his lips, with long grace after it.

This Bell-wether (sir reu'rence) leades the flocke,

After his sense grafted in errours stocke.

This reu'rend Barrabas, a Button-maker,

Himselfe with trusty Demas his partaker,

Meetes with their brethren, Chore, Abiram, Dathan,

And tearme our Church the Synagogue of Sathan.

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Wise Balaam, Nabal, Esau, Ismael,

Tertullus, Theudas, and Achitophel,

Phiigellus, Himeneus, and Philetus,

(A crew of turne-coates that desire to cheat vs)

These fellowes with their Ample folio graces,

With mumping chappes, and counterfeited faces,

Though they like shotten Herrings are to see,

Yet such tall souldiers of their teeth they be,

That two of them like greedy Cormorants,

Deuoures more then six honest Protestants.

VVhen priuately a sister and a brother

Doe meet, ther's dainty doings with each other:

Ther's no delay, they ne're stand shall I shall I,

Hermogenes with Dallila doth dally:

And Simei with Saphira will dispute,

That nine monthes after she doth beare the fruite.

VVhen Zimri kissing Iesabel doth greet,

And Cozby with her brother Cham, oh sweet,

'Tis fit to trye (their humors to refresh)

A Combate twixt the spirit and the flesh:

Prouided that they doe it secretly,

So that the wicked not the same espye:

These youths deride the Surples, Crosse and Ring,

The knee at Sacrament or any thing

The Church holds Reuerend, and to testifie

Their bastardy, the Fathers they deny.

And of themselues they frame Religions new,

VVich Christ and his Aposiles neuer knew;

And with vntemperd morter of their owne,

They build a Church, to all good men vnknowne,

Railes at the Harmonious Organs, and the Coape,

Yet in each Church of theirs, they raise a Pope.

Calls it the b [...]gde of Antichristian drosse,

VVhen they see butter printed with a Crosse:

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And yet for Coyne thei'le any man beguile,

For when they tell it, they turne vp the pile.

Vpon the Sabbath they'le no phisicke take,

Lest it should worke, and so the Sabbath breake.

They hate to see a Church-man ride, (why so)

Because that Christ bade his Apostles goe.

Against our Churches all, they haue exclaim'd,

Because by Saints names most of them are nam'd:

If these new Saints will no old Saints abide,

From Christendome they must, or run, or ride.

Saint George from England chases them away,

Saint Andrew doth in Scotland beare like sway:

From Ireland good Saint Patrick them will banish,

Saint Dennis out of France will make them vanish:

Saint Iames will force them out of Spaine to flie,

So will Saint Anthony from Italy,

And last of all (whom I had halfe forgot)

Saint Dany out of VVales will make them trot.

And what vngodly place, can harbour then,

These fugitiue vnnat'rall Englishmen:

Except that with the Turke or Infidell,

Or on, or in the Sea, they meane to dwell,

That is in lesser roome they may be cram'd,

And liue and die at Amster and be dam'd.

And sure I hold some Romane Catholikes

Much better then these selfe-wild Scismatickes.

For Papists haue good affability,

And some haue learning, most haue Charity,

Except a Iesuit, whom I thinke a man,

May terme a tight Papistick Puritan,

And for the Sep'ratist I iustly call,

A Scismaticke Impuritanicall.

But yet the Iesuit's constant in his mind,

The Scismatick is waueringly inclin'd.

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Besides, he thinkes whilst he on earth doth liue,

Tis charitie to take, and not to giue.

There are a sort of men which conscience make

Of what they say, or doe, or vndertake:

Who neyther will dissemble, sweare, or lye,

Who to good ends their actions all apply,

Who keepe the Sabbath, and releeue the poore,

According to their portions and their store:

And these good people some men doe backbite

And call them Puritanes, in scorne and spight,

But let all know that do abuse them so,

That for them is reseru'd a fearefull wo;

I loue and reuerence onely beare to such,

And those that heere Inuectiuely I touch

Are Birds whose Consciences are more vncleane

Then any Cormorant wase're knowne or seene:

Ile stand to'th censure of all honest men,

If they disproue me, Ile ne're write agen.

A Trust-breaker.

THE ARGVMENT.

A Foe to Iustice, a corrupted Friend,

An outward Angell and an inward Fiend;

A hidden Serpent, a most subtle 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 foule deuouring Beake, and at one prey

Will swallow fourteene Tradesmen in a day:

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As many of the Countrey Lordships slippes

Flapdragon like, by his Insatiate lippes.

The Father sometimes hath beene quite vndone,

Through too much trusting his vnnat'rall Sonne,

And a Trust-breaker hath a trick in's pate

To bring a rich Ward to a Beggers state.

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 runne 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, Highwaies, Bridges, or the Church,

For losse at Sea, for Hospitalls 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 VVife to burne hir Husbands VVill,

Because his first VViues Children should not haue

The Portions that within that VVill hee gaue.

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And oftentimes a gasping man for breath,

Distracted with the griping pangs of death,

Hath to a forged VVill subscrib'd his hand,

And dispossest his owne sonne of his land.

Trust-breakers may a senselesse hand so frame,

(Though being six houres dead) to write a Name,

A rich-mans wealth that's dead's like vntold gold,

And that's because t'is neuer truely told:

For like to pitch it hath polluting tricks,

And some vnto the fing'rers fingers sticks:

But of all Rascalls since the world began,

The Banckrupt Politick's the onely man,

In courteous fashion many hee'll vndo,

And be much pittied and rewarded too:

For hauing got mens wealth into his clawes,

He holds it faster then a Cormorants lawes

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 groats in the pound,

Se [...]s richly vp againe, 'till time hee 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 beeing worse, deserue a hanging more.

A Theife speakes what he meanes, & takes your purse,

A Banckrupt flattring robs you ten times worse.

The one doth sildome rob ye of all your pelfe,

The other leaues you nough [...] to helpe your selfe:

And yet the one for little theeuing may,

At Tiburne make a hanging holliday;

VVhilest the great The [...]e may wi [...]h a golden prop,

To faire Reuennues turne a Peddlers shop.

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In this voracity Father stands not free

From his owne Sonne, nor fr [...]m his Vncle, he

Being made Executor to'th States of men,

My Corm'rant is a piddler to him then.

He wil 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 lothsome prison vomits him.

There leaues the honor of a ho [...]se and name,

To be exchang'd for misery 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 aud Court.

A Drunkard.

THE ARGVMENT.

A madnesse dearely bought, with losse of fame,

Of credit and of manly reputation:

A cursed purchase of disease and shame,

Of death, and a great hazard of Damnation:

In all that's bad, the diuells onely Ape,

Worse then a beast, in the best manly shape.

THis fellow with the dropsie growne as bigge,

And much more beastly then a Sowe with pigge:

His cheekes like Boreas swolne, he [...]low'd and puft,

His paunch like to a woolpack cram'd and stuft:

And by the meanes of what he swil'd and gul'd,

Hee look'd like one that was three quarters mul'd.

His breath compounded of strong English Beere,

And th'Indian drug would suffer none come neere.

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From side to side he staggerd as he went,

As if he reeling did the way indent.

One skirt of's cloake scarce reacht vnto his waste,

The other dragging in the dirt he trac'd.

His very braines within his head were stew'd,

And look'd so crimson colour'd scarlet hew'd,

As 'twere an ignis fatuus, or a comet.

His garments stunke most sweetly of his vomit,

Fac'd with the tap-lash of strong Ale and Wine,

Which from his slau'ring chaps doth oft decline.

In truth he look'd as red as any coale,

And bellied like vnto a Mare with foale:

With hollow eyes, and with the palsie shaking,

And gouty legs with too much liquor taking.

This valiant pot-leach that vpon his knees

Has drunke a thousand pottles vp se freese,

Such pickled phrases he had got in store,

As were vnknowne vnto the times of yore,

As when he drinkes out all the totall summe,

Gaue it the stile of superna [...]ul [...]um,

And when he quaffing doth his entrailes wash,

Tis cal'd a hunch, a thrust, a whiffe, a slash:

And when carousing makes his wits to faile,

They say he hath a rattle at his taile,

And when his wits are in the wetting shrunke,

You may not say hee's drunke, though he be drunke,

For though hee be as drunke as any Rat,

He hath but catcht a foxe, or whipt the Cat.

Or some say, hee's bewitcht, or scratcht, or blinde,

(VVhich are the fittest termes that I can finde.

Or seene the Lyons, or his nose is dirty,

Or hee's pot-shaken, or out, two and thirty

And then strange languages comes in his head,

VVhen he wants English how to goe to bed:

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And though t'were fit the swine should in his stye bee,

Hee spewes out latine with pro bibi tibi:

Which is, prouide for Tiburne (as I take it)

Or if it be not, hee may chance to make it.

Then Irish Shachatwhorum from him flees,

And halfe a dozen welch me Vatawhees:

Vntill hee falls asleepe hee skinks and drinkes,

And then, like to a Bore he winkes, and stinkes.

This Cormorant in one day swallowes more,

Then my poore Esacus doth in a score.

For mine but once a day doth take his fill,

The drunkard, night and day doth quaffe and swill,

Drinke was ordain'd to length mans fainting breath,

And from that liquor Drunkards draw their death:

Displeasing God, the diuell he onely pleases,

And drinkes with others healths, his owne diseases.

And in the end contempt and shame's his share,

The whil'st a Tapster is his onely Heire.

Thus drinke's a wrastler that giues many a fall,

To death, to beggery and slauish thrall.

And drunkennesse a wilfull madnesse is,

That throwes men to hells bottomles abisse.

For why, where drunkennes is mistris, there

Sobriety can hardly maistry beare:

And ti's no question but the land hath drown'd,

More men with drinke, then Seas did e're confound.

Wine is Earth's blood, which from her breast doth spring,

And (well vs'd) is a comfortable thing.

But if abused from it then beginnes,

Most horrible notorious crying sinnes.

As Murther, Lechery, Ebriety,

Gods wrath, damnation in variety:

For he that is a drunkard is the summe,

And abstract of all mischiefes that can come.

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It wasts him soule and body, life and limb,

My Cormorant's a sober beast to him.

He that perswades a man to steale or lye,

To sweare, or to commit adultery,

To stab or murder any man that liues,

Can it be said that he good counsell giues?

And he that tempts and forces men to drinke,

Perswades a man to damne himselfe, I thinke,

For drunken men haue into dangers run,

Which (being sober) they would ne're haue done.

I take them for no friends, that giue me wine,

To turne me from a man vnto a swine,

To make me void of manners, sense, or reason,

To abuse God, blaspheming odious treason,

To hurt my soule and body, fame and purse,

To get the diuell, and gaine Gods heavy curse,

Though many take such for their friends to be,

I wish them hang'd that are such friends to me:

For greater enemies there cannot dwell

In the whole world, nor in the bounds of hell.

Good friendly drinking I account not euill,

But much carousing, which makes man a diuell,

VVanting the priuiledge that hath a horse,

And to be vrg'd and forc'd to drinke perforce.

For why a horse this gouernment hath still,

Drinkes what he will, and not against his will.

And he that that good rule doth ouerpasse,

Hath lesse discretion then a horse or Asse:

And any man that doth this temp'rance want,

Is a worse glutton then my Cormorant.

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A prodigall Country Gallant, and his new made Maddam.

THE ARGVMENT.

Taylors fooles, Times bables, and prides Apes,

That as a Squirrell skips from tree to tree:

So they like Porteus leape from shapes to shapes.

Like foule swords in gilt scabberds, he and she

Their carkasse pampers, gorgeously bedeckt,

Whilst their poore starued soules they both neglect.

NOw step [...] my young gull gallant into play,

Who (borne to land) i'th country scornes to stay,

To liue by wit (thanks Sire) he hath no need,

And if he should be hang'd can scarcely reade.

Drabs, dice, and drinke are all his onely ioyes,

His pockets, and his spurs, his gingling boyes,

A Squirrels tayle hangs dangling at his eare,

A badge which many a gull is knowne to weare.

His eyes red blood-shot, arguing a sod brainc,

His dam-him voice set to the roaring straine:

His nose well inlaid with rich iemmes about,

As from a watch- Towre, their h [...]ads peeping out,

Attended fitly, (fitting for the age)

VVith two shag'd Russians, and a pyde coat Page,

Who beares his boxe, and his Tobacco fils,

VVith stopper, tongs, and other vtensils.

This Fop, late buried, e're he came vp hither,

His thrift and's father in one graue together,

His country stocke he sold, for that's the fashion,

And to a farmer gaue it new translation:

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His Fathers seruants hee thrust out of dore,

Allowes his mother but a pension poore:

Salutes you with an oath at euery word,

Sirha or slaue he lib'rall doth afford.

His Father (a good house-keeper) being dead,

He scornes his honest block should fit his head:

And though hee be not skil'd in Magick Art,

Yet to a Coach hee turn'd his Fathers Cart.

Foure Teames of Horses, to foure Flanders Mares

With which to London hee in pomp repaires,

Woo's a She Gallant, and to Wife he takes her:

Then buyes a knighthood, and a maddam makes her.

And yearely they vpon their backs ore weare,

That which oft fed fiue hundred with good cheere.

Whil'st in the Countrey all good bounty's spilt

His house, as if a Iugler it had built,

For all the Chimneies, where great fires were made,

The smoake at one hole onely is conuay'd:

No times obseru'd nor Charitable Lawes,

The poore receiue their answer from the Dawes,

Who in their caaing language call it plaine

Mockbegger Manour, for they came in vaine.

They that deuoure what Charity should giue

Areboth at London, there the Cormorants liue,

But so transform'd of late, doe what you can,

You'le hardly know the woman from the man:

There sir Tim Twirlepipe and his Lady Gay,

Doe prodigally spend the time away:

Beeing both exceeding proud, and scornefull too,

And any thing (but what is good) thei'le do.

For Incubus, and Succubus haue got

A crew of fiends, which the old world knew not:

That if our Grand-fathers and Grand-dams should

Rise from the dead, and these mad times behold.

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Amazed they (halfe madly) would admire,

At our fantasticke gestures and attire:

And they would thinke that England in conclusion,

Were a meere bable Babell of confusion.

That Muld-sack for his most vnfashiond fashions,

Is the fit patterne of their transformations:

And Mary Frith doth teach them modesty,

For shee doth keepe one fashion constantly,

And therefore she deserues a matrons praise,

In these inconstant moone-like changing dayes.

A witlesse Asse (to please his wiues desire)

Payes for the fewell, for her prides hot fire:

And he and she will wast, consume, and spoyle,

To feed the stinking lamp of pride with oyle:

When with a sword, he gat a knightly name,

With the same blow, his Lady was struck lame.

For if you marke it, she no ground doth tread,

(Since the blow fell) except that she be lead:

And Charity is since that time (some say)

In a Carts yonger brother borne away.

These are the Cormorants, that haue the power

To swallow a Realme, and last themselues deuour:

And let their gaudy friends, thinke what they will,

My Cormorant shall be their better still.

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An Extortioner and a Broaker.

THE ARGVMENT.

Friends to but few, and to their owne soules worst,

With Aspish poyson poysning men at first,

Who laughing languish, neuer thinke on death,

Vntill these Wolues (with biting) stop their breath;

The diuell and they at no time can be sunder'd,

And all their trade is forty in the hundred.

ROome for two hounds, well coupl'd, and t'is pitty

To part them, they doe keepe such ranck i'th City,

Th' Extortioner is such a fiend, that he

Doth make the Vsurer a Saint to be.

One for a hundreds vse doth take but ten,

T'other for ten a hundred takes agen:

The one mongst Christians is well tolerated,

Tother's of heauen and earth abhor'd and hated,

The one doth often helpe a man distrest,

The other addes oppression to'th opprest.

By paying vse a man may thriue and get,

But by extortion neuer none could yet.

Though vsury be bad, (tis vnderstood,

Compared with extortion) it seemes good.

One by [...]e [...]aile, and th'other by the great,

Ingrose the profits of the whole worlds sweat,

That man is happy that hath meate and cloath,

And stands in need of neither of them both,

Extortioners are Monsters in all nations,

All their Conditions turne to Obligations,

VVaxe is their shot, and writing pens their Guns,

Their powder is the inke that from them runs.

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And this dank powder hath blowne vp more men

In one yeare, then gunpowder hath in ten.

Bils are their weapons, parchments are their shields,

VVith which they win whole lordships, towns & fields

And, for they know in heauen they ne're shall dwell,

They ingrose the earth before they come to hell.

Yet all their liues here they with cares are vext,

Slaues in this world, and hell hounds in the next.

And what they o're the diuels backe did win,

Their heyres beneath his belly waste in sinne.

The Broaker is the better senting hound,

He hunts and scouts till he his prey hath found,

The gallant which I mention'd late before,

Turning old hospitality out of doore,

And hauing swallowed tenants and their crops,

Comming to towne, he crams Extortions chops:

Craft there, may here againe be set to schoole,

A Country knaue oft proues a City foole.

He that a dogs part plaies when he is there,

A wolfe deuoures him when he comes vp here:

The silly swaine the racking Landlord worries,

But Swaine and Landlord both extortion curries.

First thing is done, the Broaker smels him forth,

Hunts all his haunts, enquires into his worth:

Sents out his present wants, and then applies

Rank poyson to his wounds for remedies.

In stead of licking, he's a biting whelpe,

And ranckles most, when he most seemes to helpe,

And he hunts dry foot; neuer spends his throat

Till a has caught his game, and then his note

Luls him asleepe, fast in Extortions bands

There leaues him, takes his fee o'th goods and lands.

And as he is the Commonwealths deceiuer,

So (for the most part) hee's the theeues receiuer.

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Hangs vp the hangmans wardrop at his doore,

Which by the hangman hath beene hang'd before.

A fishwife, with a pawne, doth money seeke,

Hee two pence takes for twelue pence euery weeke:

Which makes me aske my selfe a question plaine,

And to my selfe I answere make againe:

Was Houndsditch Houndsditch calld can any tell,

Before the Broakers in that street did dwell?

No sure it was not, it hath got that name

From them, and since the Time they thither came:

And well it now may called be Houndsditch,

For there are Hounds will giue a vengeance twitch:

These are the Gulphes, that swallow all by lending,

Like my old shoes, quite past all hope of mending:

I'de throw my Cormorants dead into the pooles.

If they cram'd fish so fast as these eate fooles.

A Basket Iustice.

THE ARGVMENT.

The best of men, when truely exercis'd,

The Actor may a Saint be canoniz'd:

Not Policy but practise, Iustice frames,

Those whom bribes blinde, haue onely thred-bare names

Of what they should be, thus the Land is blest,

When iudgments iust flow from the Iudges breast.

BEfore the noyse of these two Hounds did cease,

A Iustice (comming by) commanded peace:

Peace Curres (quoth he) and learne to take your pray,

And not a word, so wise folkes, goe away:

This is a youth that sued his place to haue,

Bought his authority to play the knaue.

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And as for Coyne he did his place obtaine,

So hee'le sell Iustice to mak't vp againe,

For the old prouerb fits his humor well,

That he that dearely buyes, must dearely sell.

The sword of Iustice draw he stoutly can,

To guard a knaue, and grieue an honest man,

His Clarke's the Bee that fils his comb with honey,

He hath the wit, his master hath the money.

Such Iusticer as this (if men doe marke)

Is altogether guided by his Clarke,

He's the vice Iustice, he workes all by's wits,

The whilst his master pickes his teeth, or spits,

Walkes, hums, and nods, cals knaue at euery turne,

(As if he in a dawes nest had beene borne:)

No other language from his worship flees,

But prisons, warrants, Mittimus, and fees:

Commit, before he search out the offence,

And heare the matter after two dayes hence,

Talkes of Recognizances, and hath scope

To bind and loose, as if he were the Pope.

Be the case ne're so good, yet build vpon't,

Fees must be payd, for that's the humor on't.

And thus with onely cursed wealth and beard,

He makes a world of witlesse fooles afeard,

And when he giues them but a smile or nod,

They thinke this doughty elfe, a demy-god.

When fortune fals, he knowes to vse the same,

His Clarke and he, as quiet as a lambe,

Make not two words, but share, and goe through stich,

Heres mine, theres thine, for they know which is which

There hath beene, are, and will be still agen,

In all professions, some corrupted men:

Before this branch of false Gehez [...]es Tribe,

Tis sacriledge to call a bribe a bribe,

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Giue him a Bucke, a Pig, a Goose, or Phesant,

(For manners sake) it must be cal'd a present,

And when he's blind in Iustice, tis a doubt,

But Turkies tallons scratch'd his eyes halfe out:

Or Capons clawes, but tis a heauy case

That fowles should flye so in a Iustice face.

Sometimes his eyes are goard with an Oxe horne,

Or suddaine dasht out with a sacke of corne,

Or the whiske brushing of a Coachmares taile

To fit the Coach, but all these thoughts may faile,

Some thinke they are but clouded, and will shine,

Eclips'd a little with a Teirce of Wine,

Or onely falne into some hoodwink'd nap,

As some men may vpon the Bench, by hap.

But Iustice seemes deafe when some tales are told,

Perhaps his charity hath tane some cold,

And that may be the cause, or rattling Coaching,

Or neighing horses to her gate approaching,

From thence into the stable, as her owne:

The certaine truth thereof is not yet knowne.

But sure she is so deafe, that she can heare,

Nothing but what her Clarke blowes in her eare,

Which Clarke, good men must croach to, & stand bare

Or else finall Iustice mongst them they shall share,

His Master like a weather-cocke inclinde,

As he doth please he makes him turne and winde.

This Iustice of all senses is bereft,

Except his feeling, onely feeling's left:

With which he swallowes with insatiate power,

More bribes then doth my Corm'rant fish deuoure.

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A Cutpurse.

THE ARGVMENT.

This is a mad knaue, liues by trickes and sleights.

He diues by land, and dies within the ayre:

He serues no man, yet courteously he waites

On whom he list, in Church, towne, throng, or faire.

He will not worke, yet is well cloath'd and fed,

And for his farewell seldome dies in's bed.

THis spirit, or this Ferrit, next that enters

(Although he be no Merchant) much he ventures,

And though he be a noted coward, yet

Most valiantly he doth his liuing get.

He hath no weapon but a curtoll knife,

Wherewith for what he hath he hazards life.

East Indian Merchants crosse the raging Floods,

And in their ventring, venter but their goods:

When as themselues at Hope securely sleepe,

And neuer plow the dangerous ocean deepe,

If they doe lose by Pirates, tempests, rocks,

Tis but a Flea bite to their wealthy stocks:

VVhilst the poore Cutpurse day and night doth toile,

VVatches and wardes, and doth himslefe turmoile:

Oft cuts a purse before the Sessions barre,

VVhilst others for their liues apleading are,

To Sturbridge Faire, or vnto Bristoll ambles

In ieopardy he for his liuing rambles,

And what he gets he doth not beg or borrow,

Ventures his necke, and there's an end, hang sorrow

VVhilst midst his perils he doth drinke and sing

And hath more pursebearers then any King

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Liues like a Gentleman, by sleight of hand;

Can play the Foist, the Nip, the Stale, the Stand,

The Snap, the Curb, the Crosbite, Warp, and List,

Decoy, prig, Cheat, (all for a hanging shift.)

Still valiant where he comes, and free from care,

And dares the stocks, the whip, the Iaile outdare.

Speakes the braue canting tongue, lyes with his dell,

Or pad, or doxi, or his bonny Nell,

And liues as merry as the day is long,

In scorne of Tyburne, or the ropes ding-dong.

But now a ieast or two to minde I call,

Which to this function lately did befall:

A Cutpurse standing in a market-towne,

As for his prey his eyes scowld vp and downe,

At last he shoulders neare a country Lasse,

And cut her purse, as by her he did passe.

Shee spide and caught him, and began to raue,

Cald him rogue, rascall, villeyne, thiefe and slaue.

Gep with a pox, the Cutpurse then replide,

Are you so fine you can no icasting bide,

I'ue ieasted more with forty honest men,

So with a moraine, take your purse agen.

Another sattin Cutpurse, dawbd with lace,

A country Gentleman for's purse did chase,

On whom a blew-coat Seruingman did waite,

And passing through a narrow obscure strait,

The thieuing knaue the purse he nimbly nims

And like a land sharke, thence by land he swims.

The Scruingman perceiu'd the Cutpurse tricke,

Said nought, but dogges him through thinne & thick,

Vntill the thiefe suppos'd the coast was cleare,

As he was pissing Blew-coat cut off's eare.

The Cutpurse madly gins to sweare and curse,

The other said, Giue me my masters purse,

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VVhich you stole lately from his pocket, then

There's no wrong done, but here's your eare agen.

Thus though a Cutpurse trade be counted ill,

I say he is a man of action still:

Waites on Ambassadors that comes and goes,

Attends at Tiltings and triumphant showes

At Westminster, he still attendance giues

On the Lord Mayor, his brethren, and the Shrieues,

Although vnbidden, yet hee'll be a guest,

And haue his hand in sometimes with the best.

And whilst he liues, note how he takes degree,

Newgate's his hall, at Tyburne hee's made free:

Where commonly it so fals out with him,

He dyes in perfect health, sound winde and limbe,

He in a Coaches elder brother rides,

And when his soule and corps, from each diuides,

He foules no sheetes, nor any Physicke takes,

But like a bird in'th ayre an end he makes:

And such an end I wish they all may haue,

And all that loue a shifting Cutpurse knaue.

For they are Cormorants wheresoere they haunt,

Vntill the Gallowes proues their Cormorant.

A good and a bad Constable.

THE ARGVMENT.

This man is to the Magistrate an eye,

Reuealing things which Iustice could not finde.

Blacke deeds of darknesse, he doth oft descry,

And is (if he be honestly inclinde)

So fit the Common-wealth in peace to keepe,

By watching carefully whilst thousands sleepe.

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VVhen Titan steepes his bright resplendant beames,

And hides his burning Car i'th westerne streames;

VVhen to the vnder world day takes his flight,

And leaues th'Horizon all in darknesse dight,

VVhen Philomel doth gainst a thorne proclaime

In dulcet notes, the lustfull Tereus shame,

VVhen Maddam Midnight shewes her Ebon face,

And darknesse doth the Hemispheare embrace,

Then (to keepe all things peaceable and well)

The watchfull Constable keepes Centinell.

Then if a man (with drinke) his wit hath left,

Or hath committed leachery, or theft,

Or murder, then the Constable thinkes fit

That such committers straitly he commit

Hee's Lord high Regent of the tedious night,

Man of the Moone he may be called right:

Great generall of Glowormes, Owles and Bats,

Comptroler ouer such as whip the Cats.

Dianaes forrester that with regard,

Doth guard the Heard that liues within his ward,

His vigilancy is most manifest,

For through his hornes he lightens all the rest.

Like Minos. or iust iudging Rhadamant,

He walkes the darksome streets of Troynouant,

Attended with his Goblins clad in Rugs,

Like Russian Beares, or Phlegetonian bugs,

Vntill Aurora shewes her blushing brow,

And Lucifer doth shine, and Cocks do crow,

Madge Howlet whooting, hides her fearefull head,

Then goes the Constable and's watch to bed.

This officer in the first place I put,

He that comes next is of another cut.

Yet he's a member of the peace comes next,

And writ most commonly an asse in Text:

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Image of office he is held to be

And has his staffe tip'd with authority,

He has his bill-men, which can seldome keepe

The name of watchmen, for they're still asleepe.

His word is Who goes there? Where doe you dwell?

Stand still, and come before the Constable.

Is this an houre: carry him to the Compter goe.

Sayes a man's drunke, when his owne case is so.

But let a quar'ling slaue indeed goe by,

Leading by'th arme his rampant venery,

A thing of filthy surfet, like a swine,

That scarce can goe laden with poxe and wine,

They for their sixpence shall passe by in state,

The porter with a leg will ope the gate,

VVorship'd, and guarded to their lodging safe,

Not with bils onely, but th'officious staffe.

VVhilst the good sober man, that nothing gaue,

Is straight committed for a dangerous knaue,

Traytor to'th State, and in the Iayle must lye,

VVhilst th'other's lighted to his lechery.

This Constable may haue a tricke in store,

His house may be safe harbour for a whore,

Because no man will offer to search there.

She there may rest, and roost secure from feare.

There she may lodge, and trade too if shee will,

As sure and safe, as theeues are in a Mill,

Or Suburbs for the birth of Bastards are,

For all desire to lay their bellies there.

Nay as a Compter for a fellon's home,

Or Ladies chamber for a Priest from Rome.

But yet I say, tis not a matter hard,

To finde an honest Constable in's ward.

Trust forbid else, and waking watchmen to,

VVhose bils were neuer stolne, and much adoe

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To be corrupted with a villaines shilling,

To wrong the good, and bad mens mindes fulfilling.

Such men as those I thinke some few there be,

And for the rest, would they were hangd for me.

He when my Corm'rant is at rest, and thinkes

Poore fish no harme, nor ought that water drinkes,

That's a night Corm'rant, and at midnight swils,

Whole cans and pots with cheaters and their Iils,

He makes all fish that comes into his net,

Drinkes drunke, and sleepes, and then the watch is set.

A London Serieant and Iaylor.

THE ARGVMENT.

A brace of Hell-hounds that on earth doe dwell,

That tyrannize on poore mens bodies more,

(If more they could) then diuels ore soules in hell:

Whose musicke is the groanings of the poore.

These, when they buy their office, sell their soules,

No Cormorants are such deuouring fowles.

THe Serieant I before the Iaylor name,

Because he is the dog that hunts the game:

He worries it, and brings it to the toyle,

And then the Iaylor liues vpon the spoile.

I'ue knowne a Serieant that foure houres hath sate,

Peeping and leering through a Tauerne grate,

His Yeoman on the other side the way,

Keeping the like watch both for one poore prey:

Whom when they spide, like mastiues they come neere him,

And by the throat like cruell curs they teare him;

If he hath money, to the Tauerne straight,

These sucking purse-leaches will on him wait:

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But if his stocke below, and's pockets drye,

To'th Iayle with him, there let him starue and dye.

Yet for all this a Serieant is deuout,

For he doth watch and prey much out of doubt.

He sels no spice, and yet in euery place

He's halfe a Grocer, for he liues by's mace:

He's part a Gentleman, for vp and downc,

Their steps he followes round about the towne.

And yet he seemes a Iugler too by this,

He oft from shape to shape so changed is:

As sometimes like an Amsterdammian brother,

Sometimes a Porters shape, sometimes another,

Sometimes t'a Counsellor at Law, and then

T'a lame, or blinded begger, and agen

T'a Country Seruingman that brings a Deere,

And with these trickes his prey he doth come deere.

Wherein he imitates the diuell aright,

Who can put on an Angels shape of light,

That so his craft may on mens soules preuaile.

So Serieants snare mens bodies for the Iayle,

Time was he wore a proper kind of coate,

And in his hand a white rod, as a note

Whereby a man far off a knaue might spie,

And shun him if he were in ieopardy.

But now to no such habit he is bound,

Because his place (neere) cost him eight score pound,

To get the which againe, he must disguise

And vse a thousand shifts and villanies.

Oh that a man so little grace should haue

To giue so much, to be esteem'd a knaue.

To be shau'd, duck'd, and vnpittied dye,

Curst and contemn'd within his graue to lie.

To hazard soule and body, ne're to thriue,

But by mens harmes, deuouring them aliue.

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To be the hang-mans guard, and wait vpon

The Gallowes at an Execution,

But yet the office is most fit we see,

And fit that honest men should haue it free.

Now for the other sucking diuell, the Iaylor

His worke's brought to him, as he were a Taylor.

As if he were a Fencer hee'll beginne,

And aske a man what ward hee will be in:

(But first the prisoner drawes without delay,

A sop for Cerberus that turnes the key.)

Then the old prisoners garnish doe demand,

Which straight must be discharged out of hand.

But if he cannot pay, or doth denye,

He thrusts him in the hole, there lets him lye.

If a good prisoner hath a well-linde purse,

The Iaylor then esteemes him as his nurse,

Suckes like a Bulcalfe, and doth neuer cease

Till with much griefe he heares of a release.

An Vnder-keeper, (though without desert)

Is a continuall knaue in spight on's hart:

If to the prisoners he be sharpe and cruell,

He proues their knaue, and his good masters Iewell:

If vnto them himselfe he well behaue,

He is their Iewell and his Masters knaue.

So let him turne himselfe which way he can,

Hee seldome shall be held an honest man.

Perhaps the Iaylor in one stinking rome

Hath sixe beds, for the Gallant and the Grome,)

In lowsie linnen, ragged couerlets:

Twelue men to lodge in those sixe beds hee sets:

For which each man doth pay a groat a night,

VVhich weeklie's eight and twenty shillings right:

Thus one foule dirty roome from men vnwilling,

Drawes yearly seauenty three pound sixteene shilling.

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Besides a Iaylor (to keepe men in feare)

Will like a demi-deuill dominere:

Roare like a Bearward, grumble, snarle, and growle,

Like a Towre Cat-a-Mountaine stare and scowle.

He and the Serieant may be coupled too,

As bane of mankind, for they both vndoe:

Th'Extortioner and Broaker nam'd before,

Hauing both bit and grip'd a mans state sore:

In comes the Serieant for his breakfast then,

Drags him to'th Iayle to be new squeezd agen:

And thence he gets not, there he shall not start,

Till the last drop of blood's wrong from his heart.

Yet I haue heard some Serieants haue beene mild,

And vs'd their prisoner like a Christians child:

Nip'd him in priuate, neuer trig'd his way,

As Bandogs carrion, but went faire away,

Follow'd aloofe, shewd himselfe kind and meeke,

And lodg'd him in his owne house for a weeke.

You'd wonder at such kindnesse in a man,

So many Regions from a Christian.

But what's the cause, Ile lead you out o'th maze,

Tis twenty shillings euery day he stayes,

Besides the Serieants wife must haue a stroake,

At the poore teate, some outside she must soake,

Although she tridge for't, whilst good fortunes fall,

He shall command house, Serieant, and all.

Thus may it come by'th side o'th breeding woman,

The Serieants son's a Gentleman, no yeoman:

And whilst they fish from mens decayes and wants,

Their wiues may proue foule fleshly Cormorants.

Thus a bad Serieant and a Iaylor both,

Are Cormorants which all good people loathe,

And yet amongst them some good men there are,

Like snow at Midsommer, exceeding rare.

[Page]

A Symonicall Patron, and his penny Clarke.

THE ARGVMENT.

Here Magus seeketh holy things to buy,

With cursed bribes and base corrupting gold:

Lets soules for want of preaching starue and die,

Fleeces and flayes his flockes, bare pilde and pold:

That to speake truth, in spight of who controls,

Such Clarkes and Patrone murder many soules.

THis is the bane both of the age and men,

A Patron with his benefices ten;

That wallowes in fat liuings a Church leach,

And cannot keepe out of my Corm'rants reach,

One of these Patrons doth deuoure his Clarks,

As they doe perish soules, after foure Markes,

And euery yeare a paire of new high shooes,

For which betwixt two Churches he doth vse

Each Sabbath day with diligence to trot,

But to what purpose, few or none know not.

Except it be'cause he would eate and feed,

He'le starue two Cures, for he can hardly reade.

This sir Iohn Lacklatine, true course doth keepe,

To preach the Vestry men all fast asleepe,

And box and cuffe a Pulpit mightily,

Speaking non-sense with nose-wise grauity,

These youths, in Art, purse, and attire most bare

Giue their attendance, at each steeple faire:

Being once hir'd he'le not displease his Lord,

His surly Patron, nor dares preach a word,

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But where he giues the text, and that must be

Some place of Scripture bites no vsury,

Extortion, or the like, but some calme law,

That will not fret his sore, be't nere so raw.

As calmly preach'd, as lamely to exptesse't.

With clamarous yell that likes the parish best.

This Clarke shall be a drudge too, all his time,

Weedes in the garden, beares out dung and slime:

Then vpon Sabbath dayes the scroyle beginnes

With most vnhallowed hands, to weed vp sinnes:

And from cup filling all his weeke dayes spent,

Comes then to giue the Cup at Sacrament.

And from his trencher waiting goes to serue

Spirituall food to those that almost starue;

And what's this Clarke that's of such seruile mind,

Some smatring Pedant or mechanicke hinde,

Who taking an intelligencers place

Against poore tenants, first crept into grace,

And drudges for eight pounds ayeare perhaps,

VVith his great vailes of Sundayes trencher scraps.

This makes the sacred Tribe of Leui sad,

That many of them proue the Tribe of Gad,

This makes good Scholers iustly to complaine,

VVhen Patrones take they care not who for gaine,

VVhen as a Carter shall more wages haue,

Then a good Preacher that helpes soules to saue,

These Cormorants Gods part doth eate and cram,

And so they fare well, care not who they damne,

The people scarce knowes what a Sermon meanes,

For a good Preacher there can haue no meanes,

To keepe himselfe with cloathes, and books, and bread

Nor scarce a pillow t'vnderlay his head.

The whilst the Patrons wife (my Lady Gay)

Fares, and is deckt most dainty euery day:

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Shee'le see that preaching trouble not the towne,

And weares a hundred Sermons in a Gowne.

Shee hath a preachers liuing on her backe,

For which the soules of many goes to wrack,

And hires a mungrell cheaply by the yeare,

To famish those Christs blood hath bought so deare;

What greater cruelty can this exceed,

Then to pine those whom Iesus bids them feed,

These are hels vultures, Tophets greedy fowles,

That proue (like diuels) Cormorants of soules.

A Country Yeoman.

THE ARGVMENT.

Here Dauy dicker comes, God speed the plough,

Whose Sonne's a Gentleman, and hunts and haukes:

His Farme good cloathes and feeding will allow,

And whatsoere of him the Country talkes,

His sonne's in silkes, with feather in his head,

Untill a begger bring a foole to bed.

THe Romane Histories doe true relate

How Dioclesian chang'd his Emp'rors state,

To liue in quiet in a Country Farme,

Out of the reach of treasons dangerous arme.

Then was a Farmer, like a labring Ant,

And not a land deuouring Cormorant.

For if a Gentleman hath land to let,

He'le haue it, at what price soe're tis set,

And bids, and ouer-bids, and will giue more,

Then any man could make of it before:

Offers the Landlord more then he would craue,

And buyes it, though he neither get nor saue.

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And whereas Gentlemen their land would let,

At rates that tenants might both saue and get,

This Cormorant will giue his landlord more,

Then he would aske, in hope that from the poore

He may extort it double, by the rate,

Which he will sell his corne and cattle at.

At pining famine he will ne're repine,

Tis plenty makes this Cormorant to whine,

To hoard vp corne with many a bitter ban,

From widowes, orphanes, and the lab'ring man:

He prayes for raine in haruest, night and day,

To rot and to consume the graine and hay:

That so his mowes and reekes, and stacks that mould,

At his owne price he may translate to gold.

But if a plenty come, this rauening thiefe

Torments (and sometimes hangs) himselfe with griefe.

And all this raking toyle, and carke and care,

Is for his clownish first borne sonne and heire,

Who must be gentled by his ill got pelfe,

Though he (to get it) got the diuell himselfe.

And whilst the fathers bones a rotting lie,

His sonne his cursed wealth, accurst lets flie,

In whores, drinke, gaming, and in reuell coyle,

The whilst his fathers soule in flames doth broile.

And when the father on the earth did liue,

To his sonnes fancy he such way did giue,

For at no season he the plough must hold,

The Summer was too hot, the Winter cold,

He robs his mother of her butter pence,

Within the Alehouse serues him for expence.

And so (like Coles dog) the vntutor'd mome,

Must neither goe to Church, nor bide at home.

For he his life another way must frame,

To hauke, to hunt, abusing the Kings game,

[Page]

Some Nobleman or Gentleman that's neere,

At a cheape rate to steale what they call deere.

VVhen if a poore man (his great want to serue)

Whose wife and children ready are to starue,

If he but steale a sheepe from out the fold,

The chuffe would hang him for it if he could.

For almes, he neuer read the word releeue,

He knowes to get, but neuer knowes to giue,

And whatsoere he be that doth liue thus,

Is a worse Cormorant then my Aesacus,

A Figure flinger, or a couzning cunning man.

THE ARGVMENT.

Amongst a foolish, faithlesse, gracelesse crew,

This man hath better credit then Gods word:

For losse that's past, or profit to ensue,

Like to a Terme, with Customers hee's stor'd.

Hee's a Sooth-sayer, but saith seldome sooth,

And hath the Diuels great seale for what he doth.

HEre now I draw a curtaine and discouer

Amongst all knaues the deuils speciall louer:

One that doth court him still, and daily wooe,

And faine would see the deuill, but knowes not how.

He has him in his workes, that's his sure place,

But has not Art to bring him to his face.

VVhen he could wish him to his outward sense,

The diuell sits laughing in his conscience:

Yet you shall haue this figure-flinger prate,

To his gull client (small wit shallow pate,)

[Page]

As if he were Lord warden of hell fire,

And Lucifer and he had both one sire,

The Fiends his couzen Germanes (once remou'd)

From earth to hell, where he is best belou'd.

More fustian language from his tongue doth drop,

Then would set forth an honest tradesmans shop:

As if that all Magitians that ere were,

Vnworthy were his learned bookes to beare,

Not Zoroastres, King o'th Bactrians,

Nor the sage Magi of the Persians,

Nor any coniuring sonne of Cham or Chus,

Nor Faustus with his Mephostophilus,

Cornelius Agrippa, Simon Magus,

Nor any twixt the riuer Thames or Tagus,

Nor Britanes Bladud, Cambriaes Merlin, Bacon,

Companions for this man would ne're be taken.

For he is rare, and deeply read indeed,

In the admir'd right reuerend old wiues Creed,

Takes of the Iewish Thalmud, and Cabals,

Solstitiums and Equinoctials,

Of auguries, of prophecies, predictions,

Prognostications, reuelation, fictions,

And as he could the Elements command,

He seemes as he their minds doth v [...]derstand.

By Fire he hath the skill of Pyromanty,

By Ayre he hath the art of Heromanty,

By Water he knowes much in Hidromanty,

And by the Earth he's skil'd in Geomanty:

Palme Chiromanty, couzuing Necromancy,

To gull the world, to fulfill fooles fancy.

Hags, ghosts, and goblins, furies, fairies, clues,

He knowes the secrets of the diuells themselues,

There's not a Nimph, a fawne, or goatefoot Satyre,

That liues by fire, by ayre, by earth, or water,

[Page]

Nor Driades or Hamadriades,

Betwixt Septentrio and Meridies,

But he commands them to doe what they list,

If he but bend the brow, or clutch the fist.

Hee'le tell a mans hearts secrets what he thinkes,

Like Oedipus vnfolds th'ambiguous Sphinx,

With skill surpassing great Albumazers,

He with intelligencing Fiends confers,

And by his wondrous Attacoosticon,

Knowes the Turkes counsell, and what Prester Iohn

Determines, or what businesse now befals

Amidst the conclaue of Romes Cardinals.

He can release, or else encrease all harmes,

About the necke or wrests by tying charmes.

He hath a tricke to kill the Agues force,

And make the patient better, or much worse,

To the great toe three letters he can tye,

Shall make the gowt to tarry or else flye.

With two words and three leaues of foure leau'd grasse

He makes the tooth-ach, stay, repasse, or passe:

If lost goods you againe would faine haue got,

Goe but to him, and you shall speed, or not.

But he will gaine whether you get or lose,

He'le haue his fee, for so the bargaine goes:

He'le tell you wonders when you are alone,

Of the Philosophers admired stone:

And that it from Vtopia first did come.

Brought to him by a spirit, he sent to Rome,

Whereby (t'inrich the world he dares be bold)

To turne pans, pots, and dripping pans to gold.

And in the Goldsmiths burnisht glistring row,

Place Ironmongers with a fairer show,

Turne Spits and Andir'ns to bright mettle shining,

that whē coin's scarce you straight may put to coining

[Page]

These and a thousand more, as idlely vaine

Fooles swallow, and he swallowes them againe,

And though the marke of truth he neuer hits,

Yet still this Cormorant doth liue by's wits,

And ne're will want a false deuouring tricke,

Till hels Archcormorant deuoure him quicke.

A Corrupted Lawyer, and a knauish Vndershriefe.

THE ARGVMENT.

The soule of Commonwealths is in good lawes,

Their execution makes a happy State,

But where corruption opes his hungry Iawes,

Where Lawyers doe encrease, 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 mand:

His Buckrum bearer, one that knowes his ku,

Can write with one hand, and receiue with two.

The trampler is in haste, O cleere the way,

Takes fees with both hands cause he cannot stay,

No matter where the cause be right or wrong,

So he be payd for letting out his tongue.

Me thinkes that posie which the Painters score

Vpon Inne posts, would fir 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.

[Page]

To begger any man he will not straine

His voice, except they pay him for his paine.

He best doth fare where C [...]ients fare the worse,

And euery meale hath first and second course,

The dish [...]s that come first vp to the messe,

Are bra [...]les and quarrels, strife, vnquietnesse,

Contentio [...]s, emulations, and debate,

These furnish forth his table in great state.

And then for picking meat, or dainty 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 cont [...]ion geld,

And by that meanes could make a good preuention,

Contention would beg [...]t no more con [...]ention.

This Lawyers riches euer springs and bloomes,

From sheeps coat, calues skin, russet hobnaild grooms,

Perswading them that all things shal goe well,

Sucks out the egge, leaues them the empty shell.

He hath a sleight in s [...]inning 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 then 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,

C [...]e them downe, to bring them vp next terme.

Horse, plow, and cattle goe to wracke, split all,

Tis fit the stable wait [...] vpon [...]he stall.

Their sheepe the parchment beares their geese the quils,

Which turnes their state as this bad Lawyer wils.

Their sh [...]rts the paper makes, their Bees the wax,

T'vndoe themselues that good discretion lacks,

[Page]

These men like geese against themsel [...]es doe things,

In plucking quils from their owne foolish wings,

This Lawyer makes his dang'rous shafts withall,

And shootes them at the fowles from whence they fall.

The Commonwealths impostu [...] he doth cut,

And the corruption in his purse doth put.

One giues him for a bribe, a brawne or swine,

And that's 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 Iarre of Oyle to scape the foile,

An O [...]e or'eturnes 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 yield 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 i [...]l,

Th'inten [...]ion of the Law is honest still.

For as the text is rent, and torne, and varied,

And by opinions from the sense is carried

By ignorant and wilfull Hereticks,

Or impure separating Scismaticks,

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 iust Lawyers, [...] the lawes defame,

Although some hounds of hell abuse the same.

[Page]

This Cormorant I meane, gulps whom he list,

And hauing swallow'd fees into his fist,

Defers the motion till the Court withdrawes,

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 sayd o're match'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 encrease.

Now master Vndershriefe I vnderstand,

You bring my Lawyers worke vnto his hand,

You bring him stuffe, he like a Taylor cuts it.

And into any shape he pleaseth puts it.

Though to the Client it appeare slight stuffe,

It shall out last him any sute of Buffe:

For though from tearme to tearme 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 minde,

You being the last o'th broode, come last behinde,

No doubt you might be first in a bad case,

But being call'd vnder, I make this your place;

I know where ere you stand, you are so good,

You'll scorne to be vnlike one of the brood,

And take't in dudgeon (as you might no doubt)

If'mongst this ranke of Corm'rants you were out.

I haue a warrant here for what I doe,

Plaine truth it selfe, and that haue seldome you.

[Page]

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 reade 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 ou [...] the rest.

Leauing (oft times) the high Shrieue in the lurch,

VVho stops the bounty should repayre the Church,

Or buy some bels to sound forth his deuotion.

If eyther ayre, or earth, or the wide ocean

Can shew worse Cormorants, or any brooke,

I'le neuer aske a penny for my Booke.

EPILOGVE.

NOw Reader, tell me (if thou well canst iudge)

If any honest man haue cause to grudge

At these my Satyres, being plaine and true,

Giuing the world and the diuell their due.

I haue but bluntly call'd a spade a spade,

And he that winceth shewes himselfe a iade.

Be quiet, see thy faults, and learne t'amend,

Thou shew'st thy guiltinesse if thou contend.

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

The water-cormorant his complaint against a brood of land-cormorants. Diuided into fourteene satyres. By Iohn Taylor.

Taylor, John, 1580-1653.

Edition statement

1622

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A13521

ID [STC]

STC 23813

ID [STC]

ESTC S100674

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99836504

ID [PROQUEST]

99836504

ID [VID]

782

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Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A13521)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 782)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1560:10)

Source

— The water-cormorant his complaint against a brood of land-cormorants. Diuided into fourteene satyres. By Iohn Taylor., Taylor, John, 1580-1653..

Extent

[46] p.

Printed by George Eld,. London :: 1622.. (Signatures: A-F⁴ (-A1).) (With title vignette.) (In verse.) (Reproduction of the original in the Bodleian Library.)

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