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

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:

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.

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.

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.