Judges are gods; he who made and said them so,
Meant not men should be forced to them to go,
By means of angels. When supplications
We send to God; to Dominations,
Powers, Cherubins, and all heaven's courts, if we
Should pay fees as here, daily bread would be
Scarce to kings; so 'tis. Would it not anger
A Stoic, a coward, yea a martyr,
To see a pursuivant come in, and call
All his clothes copes, books primers, and all
His plate chalices, and mis-take them away,
And lack a fee for coming? Oh! ne'er may
Fair Law's white reverend name be strumpeted,
To warrant thefts; she is established
Recorder to Destiny on earth, and she
Speaks Fate's words, and but tells us who must be
Rich, who poor; who in chairs, who in gaols.
She is all fair, but yet hath foul long nails,
With which she scratcheth suitors; in bodies
Of men, so in law, nails are extremities.
So officers stretch to more than law can do,
As our nails reach what no else part comes to.
Why barest thou to yon officer? Fool! hath he
Got those goods, for which erst men bared to
Fool! twice, thrice thou hast bought wrong, and now hungrily
1. 57. 1669, and he who made them so
1. 61. So 1635; 1633, court
1. 68. 1669, ask
Beg'st right, but that dole comes not till these die.
Thou hadst much, and laws Urim and Thummim try
Thou wouldst for more; and for all hast paper
Enough to clothe all the great Carrick's pepper.
Sell that, and by that thou much more shalt leese
Then Hammon if he sold his antiquities.
O wretch, that thy fortunes should moralize
Esop's fables, and make tales prophecies.
Thou art the swimming dog whom shadows cozened,
And divest, near drowning, for what vanished.
MEN write that love and reason disagree,
But I ne'er saw 't express'd as 'tis in thee.
Well, I may lead thee, God must make thee see,
But, thine eyes blind too, there's no hope for thee.
Thou say'st she's wise and witty, fair and free;
All these are reasons why she should scorn thee.
Thou dost protest thy love, and wouldst it show
By matching her as she would match her foe;
And wouldst persuade her to a worse offence,
Than that whereof thou didst accuse her wench.
Reason there's none for thee, but thou mayst vex
Her with example. Say, for fear her sex
1. 87. So 1635; 1633, Haman when; 1669, Hammon when
Shun her, she needs must change; I do not see
How reason e'er can bring that 'must' to thee.
Thou art a match a justice to rejoice,
Fit to be his, and not his daughter's choice.
Urged with his threats she'd scarcely stay with thee, And wouldst thou have this to choose thee, being free?
Go, then, and punish some soon-gotten stuff;
For her dead husband this hath mourn'd enough, 20
In hating thee. Thou mayst one like this meet;
For spite take her, prove kind, make thy breath
sweet,
Let her see she hath cause, and, to bring to thee
Honest children, let her dishonest be.
If she be a widow I'll warrant her
She'll thee before her first husband prefer,
And will wish thou hadst had her maidenhead,
She'll love thee so! for then thou hadst been dead.
But thou such strong love and weak reasons hast,
Thou must thrive there, or ever live disgraced.
Yet pause awhile; and thou mayst live to see
A time to come, wherein she may beg thee.
If thou'lt not pause nor change, she'll beg thee now,
Do what she can, love for nothing she'll allow.
Besides, here were too much gain and merchandise,
And when thou art rewarded, desert dies.
Now thou hast odds of him she loves; he may doubt
Her constancy, but none can put thee out.
Again, be thy love true, she'll prove divine,
And in the end the good on't will be thine.
1. 17. So Hazlewood-Kingsborough MS.; 1635, Dry'd
For, though thou must ne'er think of other love,
And so wilt advance her as high above
Virtue, as cause above effect can be ;
'Tis virtue to be chaste, which she'll make thee.
TO SIR NICHOLAS SMYTH.
SLEEP, next society and true friendship,
Man's best contentment, doth securely slip
His passions, and the world's troubles; rock me,
O sleep, wean'd from my dear friend's company,
In a cradle free from dreams or thoughts, there
Where poor men lie, for kings asleep do fear.
Here sleep's house by famous Ariosto,
By silver-tongued Ovid, and many moe
-Perhaps by golden-mouthed Spenser too, pardie—
Which builded was some dozen stories high,
I had repair'd, but that it was so rotten,
As sleep awaked by rats from thence was gotten;
And I will build no new, for by my will
Thy father's house shall be the fairest still
In Exeter. Yet, methinks, for all their wit,
Those wits that say nothing, best describe it.
Without it there is no sense; only in this
Sleep is unlike a long parenthesis.
Not to save charges, but would I had slept
The time I spent in London, when I kept
1. 4. So St. MS.; 1659, thy
Fighting and untruss'd gallants' company,
In which Natta, the new knight, seized on me,
And offered me th' experience he had bought
With great expense. I found him thoroughly taught
In curing burns. His thing had had more scars
Than Thimself; like Epps it often wars,
And still is hurt. For his body and state.
The physic and counsel-which came too late
'Gainst whores and dice-he now on me bestows;
Most superficially he speaks of those.
I found by him, least sound, him who most knows.
He swears well, speaks ill, but best of clothes,
What fits summer, what winter, what the spring.
He had living, but now these ways come in
His whole revenues. Where his whore now dwells,
And hath dwelt, since his father's death, he tells.
Yea, he tells most cunningly each hid cause
Why whores forsake their bawds. To these, some laws
He knows of the duel, and touch his skill
The least jot in that or these, he quarrel will,
Though sober, but ne'er fought. I know
What made his valour undubb'd windmill go,
Within a pint at most; yet for all this
-Which is most strange-Natta thinks no man is
More honest than himself. Thus men may want
Conscience, whilst being brought up ignorant,
They use themselves to vice. And besides those
Illiberal arts forenamed, no vicar knows
Nor other captain less than he; his schools
Are ordinaries, where civil men seem fools,
1. 39. So St. MS.; 1669, and on his skill
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