XLIX.

AN EPIGRAM

TO THOMAS LORD ELESMERE,9

THE LAST TERM HE SAT CHANCELLOR.

O, justest lord, may all your judgments be Laws; and no change e'er come to one decree :

So may the king proclaim your conscience is Law to his law; and think your enemies his : So, from all sickness, may you rise to health, The care and wish still of the public wealth: So may the gentler muses, and good fame, Still fly about the odour of your name; As, with the safety' and honour of the laws, You favour truth, and me, in this man's cause!

HE judge his favour timely then extends,
When a good cause is destitute of friends,
Without the pomp of counsel; or more aid,
Than to make falsehood blush, and fraud

afraid :

9 For this excellent person see p. 184. He held the seals, in compliance with the reiterated intreaties of James, till the 3rd of March, 1617, when, as Camden tells us, the king received them from him with tears of gratitude.

This Epigram (Jonson says) was written for a poor man, who had a suit depending before lord Elesmere. Its date may be referred to Michaelmas Term, 1616.

For the same poor man.

When those good few, that her defenders be,
Are there for charity, and not for fee.

Such shall you hear to-day, and find great foes
Both arm'd with wealth and slander to oppose,
Who thus long safe, would gain upon the times
A right by the prosperity of their crimes;

Who, though their guilt and perjury they know,
Think, yea, and boast, that they have done it so,
As, though the court pursues them on the scent,
They will come off, and 'scape the punishment.
When this appears, just lord, to your sharp sight,
He does you wrong, that craves you to do right.

LI.

AN EPIGRAM

TO THE COUNSELLOR THAT PLEADED,

AND CARRIED THE CAUSE.

HAT I hereafter do not think the bar,
The seat made of a more than civil war,'
Or the great hall at Westminster, the field
Where mutual frauds are fought, and no side
yield,

That henceforth I believe nor books, nor men,
Who 'gainst the law weave calumnies, my Benn; 2
But when I read or hear the names so rife,
Of hirelings, wranglers, stitchers-to of strife,

1 A more than civil war.]

-plusquam civilia bella. LUCAN.

2 Who 'gainst the law weave calumnies, my] This blank, I imagine, was to have been filled with the name of the counsellor who pleaded in the cause: it must be a word of one syllable, and answer in rhyme to men, the close of the preceding verse. From these particulars, it is probable, the person here meant was Anthony Benn, who succeeded the solicitor Coventry in the recordership of London. WHAL.

Hook-handed harpies, gowned vultures, put
Upon the reverend pleaders; do now shut
All mouths that dare entitle them, from hence,
To the wolf's study, or dog's eloquence;

Thou art my cause: whose manners since I knew,
Have made me to conceive a lawyer new.
So dost thou study matter, men, and times,
Mak'st it religion to grow rich by crimes;
Dar'st not abuse thy wisdom in the laws,
Or skill to carry out an evil cause :

But first dost vex, and search it! if not sound,
Thou prov'st the gentler ways to cleanse the wound,
And make the scar fair; if that will not be,
Thou hast the brave scorn to put back the fee!
But in a business that will bide the touch,

What use, what strength of reason, and how much
Of books, of precedents hast thou at hand!
As if the general store thou didst command
Of argument, still drawing forth the best,
And not being borrow'd by thee, but possest.
So com'st thou like a chief into the court
Arm'd at all pieces, as to keep a fort
Against a multitude; and, with thy style

So brightly brandish'd, wound'st, defend'st! the while
Thy adversaries fall, as not a word

They had, but were a reed unto thy sword.
Then com'st thou off with victory and palm,
Thy hearer's nectar, and thy client's balm,
The court's just honour, and thy judge's love.
And (which doth all achievements get above)
Thy sincere practice breeds not thee a fame
Alone, but all thy rank a reverend name.

LII.

AN EPIGRAM TO THE SMALL-POX.

NVIOUS and foul Disease, could there not

be

One beauty in an age, and free from thee?
What did she worth thy spite? were there

not store

Of those that set by their false faces more
Than this did by her true? she never sought
Quarrel with nature, or in balance brought
Art her false servant; nor, for sir Hugh Plat,3
Was drawn to practise other hue, than that
Her own blood gave her: she ne'er had, nor hath
Any belief in madam Bawdbee's bath,

Or Turner's oil of talc: nor ever got

Spanish receipt to make her teeth to rot.

What was the cause then? thought'st thou, in dis

grace

Of beauty, so to nullify a face,

That heaven should make no more; or should amiss Make all hereafter, hadst thou ruin'd this?

Ay, that thy aim was; but her fate prevail'd:

And, scorn'd, thou'st shown thy malice, but hast fail'd!

3 Sir Hugh Plat.] He was a compiler of recipes for making cosmetics, oils, ointments, &c. &c. ; one of his books is entitled, Delights for ladies to adorne their persons, &c. 1628."

66

LIII.

AN EPITAPH.

HAT beauty would have lovely styled,
What manners pretty, nature mild,
What wonder perfect, all were filed
Upon record, in this blest child.

And till the coming of the soul

To fetch the flesh, we keep the roll.

LIV.

A SONG.

LOVER.

OME, let us here enjoy the shade,
For love in shadow best is made.
Though Envy oft his shadow be,

None brooks the sun-light worse than he.
MISTRESS.

Where love doth shine, there needs no sun,
All lights into his one do run;
Without which all the world were dark;
Yet he himself is but a spark.

ARBITER.

A spark to set whole world a-fire,
Who, more they burn, they more desire,
And have their being, their waste to see;
And waste still, that they still might be.

CHORUS.

Such are his powers, whom time hath styled,
Now swift, now slow, now tame, now wild;
Now hot, now cold, now fierce, now mild;
The eldest god, yet still a child.