Must be call’d, as we do our own.
As grant, that among other things, 25
They wanted dice, yet they had kings;
And those had guards; from whence we may
Justly conclude, they had some play;
Unless a regiment be shown
Of soldiers, that make use of none. 30
Vast numbers throng’d the fruitful hive;
Yet those vast numbers made ’em thrive;
Millions endeavouring to supply
Each other’s lust and vanity;
While other millions were employ’d, 35
To see their handy-works destroy’d;
They furnish’d half the universe;
Yet had more work than labourers.
Some with vast flocks, and little pains,
Jump’d into business of great gains; 40
And some were damn’d to scythes and spades,
And all those hard laborious trades;
Where willing wretches daily sweat,
And wear out strength and limbs to eat:
While others follow’d mysteries, 45
To which few folks binds ’prentices;
That want no stock, but that of brass,
And may set up without a cross;
As sharpers, parasites, pimps, players,
Pickpockets, coiners, quacks, soothsayers, 50
And all those, that in enmity,
With downright working, cunningly
Convert to their own use the labour
Of their good-natur’d heedless neighbour.
These were call’d Knaves, but bar the name, 55
The grave industrious were the same:
All trades and places knew some cheat,
No calling was without deceit.
The lawyers, of whose art the basis
Was raising feuds and splitting cases, 60
Oppos’d all registers, that cheats
Might make more work with dipt estates;
As were’t unlawful, that one’s own,
Without a law-suit, should be known.
They kept off hearings wilfully, 65
To finger the refreshing fee;
And to defend a wicked cause,
Examin’d and survey’d the laws,
As burglar’s shops and houses do,
To find out where they’d best break through. 70
Physicians valu’d fame and wealth
Above the drooping patient’s health,
Or their own skill: the greatest part
Study’d, instead of rules of art,
Grave pensive looks and dull behaviour, 75
To gain th’ apothecary’s favour;
The praise of midwives, priests, and all
That serv’d at birth or funeral.
To bear with th’ ever-talking tribe,
And hear my lady’s aunt prescribe; 80
With formal smile, and kind how d’ye,
To fawn on all the family;
And, which of all the greatest curse is,
T’ endure th’ impertinence of nurses.
Among the many priests of Jove, 85
Hir’d to draw blessings from above,
Some few were learn’d and eloquent,
But thousands hot and ignorant:
Yet all pass’d muster that could hide
Their sloth, lust, avarice and pride; 90
For which they were as fam’d as tailors
For cabbage, or for brandy sailors,
Some, meagre-look’d, and meanly clad,
Would mystically pray for bread,
Meaning by that an ample store, 95
Yet lit’rally received no more;
And, while these holy drudges starv’d,
The lazy ones, for which they serv’d,
Indulg’d their ease, with all the graces
Of health and plenty in their faces. 100
The soldiers, that were forc’d to fight,
If they surviv’d, got honour by’t;
Though some, that shunn’d the bloody fray,
Had limbs shot off, that ran away:
Some valiant gen’rals fought the foe; 105
Others took bribes to let them go:
Some ventur’d always where ’twas warm,
Lost now a leg, and then an arm;
Till quite disabled, and put by,
They liv’d on half their salary; 110
While others never came in play,
And staid at home for double pay.
Their kings were serv’d, but knavishly,
Cheated by their own ministry;
Many, that for their welfare slaved, 115
Robbing the very crown they saved:
Pensions were small, and they liv’d high,
Yet boasted of their honesty.
Calling, whene’er they strain’d their right,
The slipp’ry trick a perquisite; 120
And when folks understood their cant,
They chang’d that for emolument;
Unwilling to be short or plain,
In any thing concerning gain;
For there was not a bee but would 125
Get more, I won’t say, than he should;
But than he dar’d to let them know,
That pay’d for’t; as your gamesters do,
That, though at fair play, ne’er will own
Before the losers that they’ve won. 130
But who can all their frauds repeat?
The very stuff which in the street
They sold for dirt t’ enrich the ground,
Was often by the buyers found
Sophisticated with a quarter 135
Of good-for-nothing stones and mortar;
Though Flail had little cause to mutter.
Who sold the other salt for butter.
Justice herself, fam’d for fair dealing,
By blindness had not lost her feeling; 140
Her left hand, which the scales should hold,
Had often dropt ’em, brib’d with gold;
And, though she seem’d impartial,
Where punishment was corporal,
Pretended to a reg’lar course, 145
In