All the vvorkes of Iohn Taylor the water-poet Beeing sixty and three in number. Collected into one volume by the author: vvith sundry new additions corrected, reuised, and newly imprinted, 1630.

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Title
All the vvorkes of Iohn Taylor the water-poet Beeing sixty and three in number. Collected into one volume by the author: vvith sundry new additions corrected, reuised, and newly imprinted, 1630.
Author
Taylor, John, 1580-1653.
Publication
At London :: Printed by I[ohn] B[eale, Elizabeth Allde, Bernard Alsop, and Thomas Fawcet] for Iames Boler; at the signe of the Marigold in Pauls Churchyard,
1630.
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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A13415.0001.001
Cite this Item
"All the vvorkes of Iohn Taylor the water-poet Beeing sixty and three in number. Collected into one volume by the author: vvith sundry new additions corrected, reuised, and newly imprinted, 1630." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A13415.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 22, 2025.

Pages

A Basket-Iustice.
THE ARGVMENT.
The best of men, when tr••••ly exercis'd The actor may a Saint be cono••••••'d: No Policy, but practise Iustice raes, Those whom brbes •••• hae •••••••• names: Of what they should be, thus the La••••du When judgements just flow from the Iudges brest.
BEfore the noyse of these two Hounds did ceasa, A Iustice (comming by) commanded peace: Peace Curres (q . he) and learne to take your prey And not a word, so wise folkes goe your way: This is youth that sued his p'ac to haue, Bought his authority to play the knaue. And as for coine he did his place obtaine, So hee'l sell iustie to mak't vpagaine, For the old prouerbe its 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 Beethat fils his combe with honey, He hath the wit, his master hath the money. Such Iusticer as this (if men doe marke) It altogether guided by his Clarke. He's the vice Iustice, he workes all by's wits, The whil'st his master pickes his teeth or spits, Walks, hums, and nods, cals knaue at euery turne, (As if he in a dawes nest had beene borne:) No other language from his worship ees, But prisons, Warrants, Mittimus, and ees: Commit before he search out the oftens, And heare the matter after two dayes hence, Talkes of Recognizances, and hath scope, To binde and loose as if he were the Pope. Be the ease ne're so good, yet build vpon't, Fees must be payd, for that's the humor on'r.

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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 else 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, & go through stich, Here's mine, there's 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 Gebezaes Tribe, 'Tis sacriledge to call a bribe a bribe, Giue him a Bucke, a Pig, a Goose, or Phesant, (For manners sake) it must be call'd a present, And when hee's blind in Iustice,'tis a doubt But Turkies tallons scratcht 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 Oxehorne, Or suddaine dasht out with a sacke of corne, Or the whiske burshing 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 hood wink'd nap. As some men may vpon the Bench, by hap. But Iustice seemes dease when some tales are told, Perhaps his Charity hath tane some cold, And that may be the cause, or rattling Coaching, Or neighing of 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 dease that she can heare, Nothing but what her Clarke blowes in her care, Which Clark, good men must oroach to, & stand bare Or else small 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 sences is bereft, Except his feeling, onely feelings left: With which he swallowes with infariate power, More bribes then doth my Cormorant fish deuoure.
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