PRACTICE

Which you but think the crafty impositions, Of subtle Clerks, feats of fine understanding, To abuse Clots, and Clowns with, Mr. Compass, Having no ground in nature, to sustain it Or light, from those clear causes: to the inquiry And search of which, your Mathematical head, Hath so devowed it self. He is one That overrules though, by his authority Of living there; and cares for no man else: Neglects the sacred letter of the Law; And holds it all to be but a dead heap, Of civil institutions: the rest only Of common men, and their causes, a farragoe, Or a made dish in Court; a thing of nothing: A fine place (Survey or of the Projects general) I would I had it. Oh Sir, A Nemo scit. But (as you knew to use it in that time) It would reward your waking. A direct bargain, and sale in open market. But here's a mighty gain Sir, you have made Of this one stock! the principal first doubled, In the first seven year; and that redoubled I'the next seven! beside six thousand pound, There's threescore thousand God in fourteen year, After the usual rate of ten i'the hundred, And the ten thousand paid. How will you escape the clamour, and the envy? It was a barbarous Injury, I confess: But if you will be counseled, Sir, by me, The reverend Law lies open to repair Your reputation. That will give you damages; Five thousand pound for a finger, I have known Given in Court: And let me pack your Jury. I tell you Mr. Compass, You speak not Like a friend unto the Laws, Nor scarce a subject, to persuade him thus, Unto the breach o'the peace: Sir you forget There is a Court above, o'the Starchamber, To punish Routs and Riots. I now do crave your pardon, Mr. Compass: I did not apprehend your way before, The true Perimiter of it: you have Circles, And such fine draughts about! And silken phrase: the courtliest kind of Quarrel. Oh, yes, of right, and he may do it by Lau. That's well. (Which is at best, but a thin linen armour.) I think a cup of generous wine were better, Then fighting in your shirts. His valour will take cold; put on your doublet. A pretty kind of valour! He but rehearses, he concludes no valour. Narrowness of mind, Or ignorance being the root of it. Or your exemplified Malefactors, That have survived their infamy, and punishment. Which is in Cowards wounded mortally, Or Thieves adjudged to die. He perks at that! But there's a Christian valour, above these too. H'has spied your swords out! put them up, put up, You have driven him hence; and yet your quarrel's ended. Of light gold. Then put up your Sword, And on your Doublet. Give the Captain thanks. Gone, Shrunk hence,! contracted to his Centre, I fear. I think her Ladyship Too virtuous, and too nobly innocent, To have a hand in so ill-formed a business. I must confess a great beholdingness Unto her Ladyships offer, and good wishes. But the truth is, I never had affection, Or any liking to this Niece of hers. I had my notes, And my Prognostics. I do confess, I do believe, and pray too: According to the Planets at sometime. As in Phlebotomy. I do, and I do not. I tell you Mr. Compass, as my friend, And under seal, I cast mine eye long since, upon the other wench, my Ladies woman, Another manner of piece for handsomeness, Then is the Niece (but that is sub sigillo, And as I give it you) in hope of your aid, And counsel in the business. No, upon my Law, As I am a Bencher, and now double Reader, I meant in mere simplicity of request. No; But I can fetch one straight. I shall do it. Here it is. I'll fill that presently; It has the Seal, which is the main: And restgistred, The Clarke knows me, and trusts me. They say he's here, he' pointed to come hither. I am much bound unto you, Mr. Compass, You have all the Law, and parts of Squire Practice For ever at your use. I'll tell you news, too: Sir, your Reversion's fallen: Thin-wits dead, Surveyor of the Projects general. Een this morning, I received it From a right hand. Yes Sir, but empty. I accept it As a P ssession, be't but a Reversion. I, I told you that I herd so. Do one, He do the other. It's done. The plainest way. Sue him at Common-Law: Arrest him on and Actium of Choke-baile, Five hundred thousand pound; it will affright him, And all his sureties. You can prove your marriage? And become The integrity, and worship of her name. The Law is plain; if it were herd to cry, And you produce it not, he may indict All that conceal it, of Felony, and Murder.