Cursed be the wretch, so venal and so vain: Paltry and proud, as drabs in Drury-lane. 'Tis such a bounty as was never known, If Peter deigns to help you to your own: What thanks, what praise, if Peter but supplies, And what a solemn face, if he denies! Grave, as when prisoners shake the head and swear 'Twas only suretiship that brought 'em there. 70 His office keeps your parchment fates entire, He starves with cold to save them from the fire; For you he walks the streets through rain or dust, For not in chariots Peter puts his trust; For you he sweats and labours at the laws, Takes God to witness he affects your cause, And lies to every lord in every thing, Like a king's favourite, or like a king. These are the talents that adorn them all, From wicked Waters ev'n to godly Paul.[172] Not more of simony beneath black gowns, 80 Not more of bastardy in heirs to crowns. In shillings and in pence at first they deal; And steal so little, few perceive they steal; Till, like the sea, they compass all the land, From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand: And when rank widows purchase luscious nights, Or when a duke to Jansen punts at White's, Or city-heir in mortgage melts away; Satan himself feels far less joy than they. Piecemeal they win this acre first, then that, 90 Glean on, and gather up the whole estate. Then strongly fencing ill-got wealth by law, Indentures, covenants, articles they draw, Large as the fields themselves, and larger far Than civil codes, with all their glosses, are; So vast, our new divines, we must confess, Are fathers of the Church for writing less. But let them write for you, each rogue impairs The deeds, and dext'rously omits, _ses heires_: No commentator can more slily pass 100 O'er a learn'd, unintelligible place; Or, in quotation, shrewd divines leave out Those words, that would against them clear the doubt. So Luther thought the Pater-noster long, When doom'd to say his beads and even-song; But having cast his cowl, and left those laws, Adds to Christ's prayer, the Power and Glory clause. The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods, that shaded all the ground? We see no new-built palaces aspire, 110 No kitchens emulate the vestal fire. Where are those troops of poor, that throng'd of yore The good old landlord's hospitable door? Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes Some beasts were kill'd, though not whole hecatombs; That both extremes were banish'd from their walls, Carthusian fasts, and fulsome Bacchanals; And all mankind might that just mean observe, In which none e'er could surfeit, none could starve. These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow; 120 But oh! these works are not in fashion now: Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare, Extremely fine, but what no man will wear.