THE SOTWEED
FACTOR -- “sotweed factor”
or is a tobacco merchant
A VOYAGE TO MARYLAND
A SATYR
By Ebenezer Cook
Condemn'd by Fate to way-ward
Curse,
Of Friends unkind, and empty Purse:
Plagues worse than fill'd Pandora's
Box,
I took my leave of Albion's Rocks:
With heavy heart, concern'd that I
Was forc'd my Native soil to fly.
And the Old World must bid
good-buy.
But Heav'n ordain'd it should be
so.
And to repine is vain we know:
Freighted with Fools, from Plymouth
sound,
To Mary-Land our ship was bound.
Where we arriv'd in dreadful Pain,
Shock'd by the Terrours of the
Main:
For full three Months, our wavering
Boat.
Did thro' the surley Ocean float.
And furious storms and threat'ning Blasts,
Both tore our Sails and sprung our
Masts:
Wearied, yet pleased, we did escape
Such ills, we anchor'd at the Cape.
But weighing soon, we plough'd the
Bay,
To Cove it in Piscato-way,
Intending there to open Store
I put myself and Goods a-shore:
Where soon repair'd a numerous
Crew,
In Shirts and Drawers of
Scotch-cloth Blue.
With neither Stockings, Hat, nor
Shooe.
These Sot-weed Planters Crowd the
Shoar,
In Hue as tawny as a Moor:
Figures so strange, no God
design'd,
To be a part of Humane Kind:
But wanton Nature, void of Rest,
Moulded the brittle Clay in Jest.
At last a Fancy ver odd
Took me. this was the Land of Nod.
Planted at first, when Vagrant
Cain,
His Brother had unjustly slain:
then conscious of the Crime he'd done,
From Vengeance dire, he hither run;
And in a Hat supinely dwelt,
The first in Furs and Sot-weed
dealt.
And ever since his Time, the Place,
Has harbour'd a detested Race;
Who when they cou'd not live at
Home,
For Refuge to these Worlds did
roam;
In hopes by Flight they might
prevent,
The Devil and his fell intent;
Obtain from Tripple Tree repreive,
And Heav'n and Hell alike deceive:
but e're their Manners I display,
I think it fit I open lay
My Entertainment by the way:
That Strangers well may be aware
on,
What homely Diet they must fare on.
To touch that Shoar, where no good
Sense is found,
But Conversation's lost, and
Manners drown'd.
I crost unto the other side,
A River whose impetuous Tide,
The Savage Borders does divide;
In such a shining odd invention,
I scarce can give its due
Dimension.
The Indians call this watery Waggon
Canoo, a Vessel none can brag on;
Cut from a Popular-Tree, or Pine,
And fashioned like a trough for
swine:
In this most noble Fishing-Boat,
I boldly put myself afloat:
Standing Erect with legs stretch'd
wide,
We paddl'd to the other side:
Where being Landed safe by hap,
As Sol fell into Thetis Lap
A ravenous Gang bent on the stroul,
Of Wolves for Prey, began to howl;
This put me in a pannick Fright,
Least I should be devoured quite:
But as I there a musing stood,
And quite benighted in a Wood.
A Female Voice pierc'd thro'my
Ears.
Crying, You Rogue drive home the
Steers
I listen'd to th'attractive sound,
And straight a Herd of cattel found
Drove by a Youth, and homewards
bound:
Cheer'd with the sight, I straight
thought fit,
To ask where I a Bed might get.
The surley Peasant bid me stay,
And ask'd from whom I'de run away.
Surprized at such a saucy Word,
I instantly lugged out my Sword:
Swearing I was no Fugitive.
But from Great-Britain did arrive.
In hopes I better there might
Thrive.
To which he mildly made reply
I beg your Pardon, Sir that I
Should talk to you Unmannerly;
But if you please to go with me
To yonder House, you'll welcome be.
Encountring soon the smoaky Seat,
The Planter old did thus me greet:
"Whether you come from Goal or
Colledge,
"You're welcome to my certain
Knowledge;
"And if you please all Night
to stay,
"My Son shall put you in the
way."
Which offer I most kindly took.
And for a Seat did round me look:
When presently amongst the rest,
He plac'd his unknown English
Guest,
Who found them drinking for a whet,
A Cask of Syder on the Fret,
Till supper came upon the Table,
On which I fed whilst I was able.
So after hearty Entertainment,
Of Drink and Victuals without
Payment;
For Planters Tables, you must know,
Are free for all that come and go.
While Pon and Milk, with Mush well
stoar'd --
pon is bread
In wooden Dishes grac'd the board;
With Homine and Syder-pap,
(Which scarce a hungry Dog would
lap)
Well stuff'd with Fat, from Bacon
fry'd,
Or with Molossus dulcify'd.
Then out our Landlord pulls a
Pouchn,
As greasy as the Leather Couch
On which he sat, and straight begun
To load with Weed his Indian Gun;
In length, scarce longer than one's
Finger,
Or that for which the Ladies linger:
His Pipe smoak'd out with aweful
Grace,
With aspect grave and solemn pace;
The reverend Sire walks to a Chest,
Of all his Furniture the best,
Closely confin'd within a Room,
Which seldom felt the weight of
Broom;
From thence he lugs a Cag of Rum,
And nodding to me, thus begun:
I find, says he, you don't much
care,
For this our Indian Country Fare;
But let me tell you, Friend of
mine,
You may be glad of it in time,
Tho' now your Stomach is so fine;
And if within this Land you stay,
You'll find it true what I do say.
This said, the Rundlet up he threw,
And bending backwards strongly
drew:
I pluck'd as stoutly for my part,
Altho' it made me sick at Heart,
And got so soon into my Head
I scarce cou'd find my way to Bed;
Where I was instantly convey'd
By one who pass'd for Chamber-Maid;
Tho' by her loose and sluttish
Dress,
She rather seem'd a Bedlam-Bess.
Curious to know from whence she
came,
I prest her to declare her Name
She Blushing seem'd to hide her
Eyes,
And thus in Civil Terms replies:
In better Times, e'er to this Land,
I was unhappily Trapann'd,
Perchance as well I did appear,
As any Lord or Lady here,
Not then a Slave for twice two
Year.
My Cloaths were fashionably new,
Nor were my Shifts of Linnen Blue
But things are changed now at the
Hoie,
I daily work, and Bare-foot go.
In weeding Corn or feeding Swine,
I spend my melancholy Time.
Kidnap'd and Fool'd, I hither fled,
To shun a hated Nuptial Bed.
And to my cost already find,
Worse Plagues than those I left
behind.
Whate'er the Wanderer did profess.
Good-faith I cou'd not choose but
guess
The Cause which brought her to this
place.
Was supping e'er the Priest said
Grace,
Quick as my Thoughts, the Slave was
fled,
(Her Candle left to shew my Bed)
Which made of Feathers soft and
good,
Close in the Chimney-corner stood;
I threw me down expecting Rest,
To be in golden Slumbers blest:
But soon a noise disturb'd my
quiet.
And plagu'd me with nocturnal Riot:
A Puss which in the ashes lay,
With grunting Pig began a Fray:
And prudent Dog, that Feuds might
cease,
Most strongly bark'd to keep the
Peace.
This Qarrel scarcely was decided,
By stick that ready lay provided:
But Reynard arch and cunning Loon.
Broke into my Appartment soon:
In hot pursuit of Ducks and Geese,
With fell intent the same to seize:
Their Cackling Plaints with strange
surprize,
Chac'd Sleeps thick Vapours from my
eyes:
Raging I jump'd upon the Floar,
And like a Drunken Saylor swore;
With sword I fiercely laid about,
And soon dispers'd the Feather'd
Rout:
The Poultry out of Window flew,
And Reynard cautiously withdrew:
The Dogs who this Encounter heard,
Fiercly themselves to aid me
rear'd,
And to the Place of Combat run,
Exactly as the Field was won.
Fretting and hot as roasting Capon,
And greasy as a Flitch of Bacon;
I to the Orchard did repair,
To Breathe the cool and open Air,
Expecting there the rising Day,
Extended on a Bank I lay;
But Fortune here, that saucy Whore,
Disturb'd me worse and plagu'd me
more,
Than she had done the night before.
Hoarse croaking Frogs did 'bout me
ring,
Such Peals the Dead to Life wou'd
bring,
A Noise might move their Wooden
King.
I stuff'd my ears with Cotten white
For fear of being deaf out-right,
And curst the melancholy Night:
But soon my Vows I did recant,
And Hearing as a Blessing grant;
When a confounded Rattle-Snake,
With hissing made my Heart to ake:
Not knowing how to fly the Foe,
Or whether in the Dark to go;
By strange good Luck, I took a
Tree,
Prepar'd by Fate to set me free;
Where riding on a Limb a-stride,
Night and the Branches did me hide,
And I the Devil and Snake defy'd.
Nor yet from Plagues, exempted
quite,
The curst Muskitoes did me bite;
Till rising Morn' and blushing Day,
Drove both my Fears and Ills away;
And from Night's Errors set me
free.
Discharg'd from hospitable Tree;
I did to Planters Booth repair,
And there at Breakfast nobly Fare,
On rashier broil'd of infant Bear:
I thought the Cub delicious Meat,
Which ne'er did ought but Chesnuts eat,
Nor was young Orsin's flesh the
worse,
Because he suck'd a Pagan Nurse.
Our Breakfast done, my Landlord
stout,
Handed a Glass of Rum about;
Pleas'd with the Treatment I did
find,
I took my leave of Host so kind;
Who to oblige me, did provide,
His eldest Son to be my Guide.
And lent me Horses of his own,
A skittish Colt, and aged rhoan,
The four-leg'd prop of his wife Joan.
Steering our barks in Trot or Pace,
We sail'd directly for a place
In Mary-Land of high renown,
Known by the name of Battle-Town.
To view the Crowds did there
resort.
Which Justice made, and Law their
sport,
In that sagacious country Court:
Scarce had we enter'd on the way,
Which thro' thick Woods and Marshes
lay;
But Indians strange did soon
appear,
In hot persuit of wounded deer;
No mortal creature can express,
His wild fantastick Air and Dress;
His painted Skin in colours dy'd,
His sable Hair in Satchel ty'd,
Shew'd Savages not free from Pride:
His tawny Thighs, and Bosom bare,
Disdain'd a useless Coat to wear,
Scorn'd Summer's Heat, and Winters
Air;
His manly Shoulders such as please,
Widows and Wives, were bath'd in Grease
Of Cub and Bear, whose supple Oil,
Prepar'd his Limbs 'gainst Heat or
Toil.
Thus naked Pict in Battel faught,
Or undisguis'd his Mistress sought;
And knowing well his Ware was good,
Refus'd to screen it with a Hood:
His Visage dun, and chin that ne'er
Did Raizor feel or Scissers bear,
Or knew the ornament of Hair,
Look'd sternly Grim, surpriz'd with
Fear,
I spur'd my Horse as he drew near:
But Rhoan who better knew than I,
The little Cause I had to fly;
Seem'd by his solemn steps and
pace,
resolv'd I shou'd the Specter face,
Nor faster mov'd, tho' spur'd and
lick'd,
Than Balaam's Ass by Prophet
kick'd.
Kekicknitop the Heathen cry'd;
How is it Tom. My friend replyd,
Judging from thence the Brute was
civel,
I boldly fac'd the Courteous Devil;
And lugging out a Dram of Rum,
I gave his Tawny worship some;
Who in his language as I guess,
(My Guide informing me no less,)
Implored the Devil, me to bless.
I thank'd him for his good Intent,
And forwards on my Journey went,
Discoursing as along I rode,
Whether his Race was framed by God
Or whether some Malignant pow'r,
Contriv'd them in an evil hour
And from his own Infernal Look;
Their Dusky form and Image took:
From thence we fell to Argument
Whence Peopled was the Continent.
My friend suppos'd Tartarians wild,
Or Chinese from their Home exiled;
Wandering thro' Mountains hid with
Snow,
and Rills did in the valleys flow,
Far to the South of Mexico:
Broke thro' the Bars which Nature
cast,
and wide unbeaten Regions past,
Till near those Streams the humane
deludge roll'd,
Which sparkling shin'd with
glittering Sands of Gold,
And fetch Pizarro from the Iberian
Shoar,
To Rob the Natives of their fatal
Stoar.
I Smil'd to hear my young Logician,
Thus Reason like a Politician;
Who ne're by Fathers Pains and
Earning
Had got at Mother Cambridge
learning;
Where Lubber youth just free from
birch
Most stoutly drink to prop the
Church:
Nora with Grey Grout had taken
Pains
To purge his Head and Cleanse his
Reines:
And in obedience to the Colledge
Had pleas'd himself with carnal
Knowledge:
And tho' I lik'd the youngester's
Wit,
I judg'd the Truth he had not hit;
And could not choose but smile to
think
What they could do for Meat and
Drink,
Who o'er so many Desarts ran,
With Brats and Wives in Caravan:
Unless perchance they'd got the Trick,
To eat no more than Porker sick;
Or could with well contented Maws.
Quarter like Bears upon their Paws.
Thinking his Reasons to confute,
I gravely thus commenc'd Dispute,
And urg'd that tho' a Chinese Host,
Might penetrate this Indian Coast;
Yet this was certainly most true,
They never cou'd the Isles subdue;
For knowing not to steer a Boat,
They could not on the Ocean float,
Or plant their Sunburnt Colonies,
In Regions parted by the Seas:
I thence inferr'd Phænicians old,
Discover'd first with Vessels bold
These Western Shoars, and planted
here,
Returning once or twice a Year,
With Naval Stoars and Lasses kind,
To comfort those were left behind;
Till by the Winds and Tempest toar,
From their intended Golden Shoar;
They suffer'd Ship-wreck, or were
drown'd,
And lost the World so newly found.
But after long and learn'd
Contention,
We could not finish our dissention:
And when that both had talk'd their
fill.
We had the self same Notion still.
Thus Parson grave well real and
Sage,
does in dispute with Priest engage;
The one protests they are not Wise,
Who judge by Sense and trust their
Eyes;
And vows he'd burn for it at Stake,
That Man may God his Maker make;
The other smiles at his Religion,
And vows he's but a learned
Widgeon:
And when they have empty'd all
their stoar
From Books and Fathers, are not
more
Convinc'd or wiser than before.
Scarce had we finish'd serious
Story,
But I espy'd the Town before me,
And roaring Planters on the ground,
Drinking of Healths in Circle
round:
Dismounting Steed with friendly
Guide,
Our horses to a Tree we ty'd,
and forwards pass'd amongst the
Rout,
to chuse convenient Quarters out:
But being none were to be found,
we sat like others on the ground
Carousing Punch in open Air
Till Cryer did the Court declare;
The planting Rabble being met,
Their Drunken Worships likewise
set:
Cryer proclaims that Noise shou'd
cease,
And streight the Lawyers broke the
Peace:
Wrangling for Plaintif and
Defendant,
I thought they ne'er wou'd make an
end on't:
With nonsense, stuff, and false
quotations,
With brazen Lyes and Allegations;
And in the splitting of the Cause,
They us'd such motion with their
Paws,
As shew their zeal was strongly
bent,
In Blows to end the Argument.
A reverend Judge, who to the shame
Of all the Bench, cou'd write his
Name;
As Petty-fogger took offence,
And wonder'd at his Impudence.
My Neighbour Dash with scorn
replies,
And in the face of Justice flies:
The Bench in fury streight divide,
And Scribbles take, or Judges side;
The Jury, Lawyers, and their
Clyents,
Contending, fight like earth-born
Gyants:
Bust Sheriff wily lay perdue,
Hoping indictments wou'd ensue,
And when...
A Hat or Wig fell in the way,
He seiz'd them for the Queen as
stray:
The court adjourn'd in usual
manner,
In Battle Blood and fractious
Clamour;
I thought it proper to provide,
A Lodging for myself and Guide,
So to our Inn we march'd away,
Which at a litle distance lay;
Where all things were in such
Confusion,
I thought the World at its
conclusion:
A Herd of Planters on the ground,
O'er-whelm'd with Punch, dead drunk
we found:
Others were fighting and
contending.
Some burnt their Cloaths to save
the mending.
A few whose Heads by frequent use,
Could better bare the potent Juice,
Gravely debated State Affairs.
Whilst I most nimbly trip'd up
Stairs;
Leaving my Friend discoursing
oddly,
And mixing things Prophane and
Godly.
Just then beginning to be Drunk,
As from the company I slunk,
To every Room and Nook I crept,
In hopes I might have somewhere
slept;
But all the bedding was possest
By one or other drunken Guest:
But after looking long about,
I found an ancient Corn-loft out.
Glad that I might in quiet sleep,
And there my bones unfractur'd
keep.
I lay'd me down secure from Fray,
And soundly snor'd till break of
Day:
When waking fresh I sat upright,
And found my Shoes were vanished
quite,
Hat, Wig, and Stocking, all were
fled
From this extended Indian Bed:
Vext at the Loss of Goods and
Chattel,
I swore I'd give the Rascal battel,
Who had abus'd me in this sort.
And Merchant Stranger made his
Sport.
I furiously descended Ladder:
No Hare in March was ever madder:
In vain I search'd for my Apparel.
And did with Host and Servants
quarrel;
For one whose Mind did much aspire
To Mischief, threw them in the
Fire;
Equip't with neither Hat nor Shooe,
I did my coming hither rue,
And doubtful thought what I should
do:
Then looking round, I saw my Friend
Lie naked on a Tables end;
A Sight so dismal to behold,
One wou'd have judg'd him dead and
cold;
When wringing of his bloody Nose,
By fighting got we my suppose;
I found him not so fast asleep,
Might give his Friends a cause to
weep:
Rise Oronooko, rise, said I,
And from this Hell and Bedlam fly.
My Guide starts up, and in amaze,
With blood-shot Eyes did round him
gaze;
At length with many a sigh and
groan,
He went in search of aged Rhoan;
But Rhoan, tho' seldom us'd to
faulter,
Had fairly this time slipt his
Halter;
And not content at Night to stay
Ty'd up from Fodder, ran away:
After my Guide to ketch him ran,
And so I lost both Horse and Man;
Which Disappointment, tho' so
great,
Did only Mirth and Jests create:
Till one more Civil than the rest,
In Conversation for the best,
Observing that for want of Rhoan,
I should be left to talk alone;
Most readily did me intreat,
To take a Bottle at his Seat;
A Favour at that time so great,
I blest my kind propitous Fate;
And finding so a fresh supply,
Of Cloaths from Stoar-house kept
hard by,
I mounted streight on such a Steed,
Did rather curb, than whipping
need;
And straining at the usual rate,
With spur of Punch which lay in
Pate,
E'er long we lighted at the Gate;
Where in an ancient Cedar House,
Dwelt my new Friend, a Cokerouse;
Whose Fabrick, tho' 'twas built of
Wood,
Had many Springs and Winters stood;
When sturdy Oaks, and lofty Pines
Were level'd with Musmelion Vines,
And Plants eradicated were,
By Hurricanes into the air;
There with good Punch and apple
Juice,
We spent our Hours without abuse;
Till Midnight in her sable Vest,
Persuaded Gods and Men to rest;
And with a pleasing kind surprize,
Indulg'd soft Slumbers to my Eyes.
Fierce Æthon courser of the Sun,
Had half his Race exactly run;
And breath'd on me a fiery Ray,
Darting hot Beams the following
Day,
When snug in Blanket white I lay:
But Heat and Chinces rais'd the
Sinner,
Most opportunely to his Dinner;
Wild Fowl and Fish delicious Meats,
As good as Neptune's Doxy eats,
Began our Hospitable Treat;
Fat Venson follow'd in the Rear,
And Turkies wild Luxurious Chear.
But what the Feast did most
commend,
Was hearty welcom from my Friend.
Thus having made a noble Feast,
And eat as well as pamper'd Priest,
Madera strong in flowing Bowls,
Fill'd with extream, delight our
Souls;
Till wearied with a purple Flood,
Of generous Wine (the Giant's
blood,
As poets feign) away I made,
For some refreshing verdant Shade;
Where musing on my Rambles strange,
And Fortune which so oft did
change;
In midst of various Contemplations
Of Fancies ould, and Meditations,
I slumber'd long....
Till hazy Night with noxious Dews,
Did Sleep's unwholsom Fetters lose;
With Vapours chil'd and misty air,
To fire-side I did repair,
Near which a jolly Female Crew
Were deep engag'd at Lanctre-Looe,
In Nighttrails white, with dirty
Mein,
Such sights are scarce in England
seen:
I thought them first some Witches
bent
On Black Designs in dire Convent.
Till one who with affected air,
Had nicely learn'd to Curse and
Swear:
Cryid Dealing's lost is but a Flam,
And vow'd by G-d she'd keep her
Pam.
When dealing through the board had
run,
They ask'd me kindly to make one;
Not staying often to be bid,
I sat me down as others did:
We scarce had play'd a Round about,
But that these Indian Froes fell
out.
D-m you, says one, tho' now so
brave,
I knew you late a Four-Years Slave;
What if for Planters Wife you go,
Nature design'd you for the Hoe.
Rot you replies the other streight,
The Captain kiss'd you for his
Freight;
And if the Truth was known aright,
And how you walk'd the Streets by
night,
You'd blush (if one cou'd blush)
for shame,
Who from Bridewell or Newgate came.
From Words they fairly fell to
Blows,
And being loath to interpose,
Or meddle in the Wars of Punk,
Away to Bed in hast I slunk.
Waking next day, with aking Head,
And Thirst that made me quit my
Bed;
I rigg'd myself, and soon got up,
to cool my Liver with a Cup
Of Succahana fresh and clear,
Not half so good as English Beer;
Which ready stood in Kitchin Pail,
And was in fact but Adam's Ale;
For Planters Cellars you must know,
Seldom with good October flow,
But Perry Quince and Apple Juice,
Spout from the Tap like any Sluce;
Until the Cask's grown low and
stale,
They're forc'd again to Goad and
Pail.
The soathing drought scarce down my
throat,
Enough to put a ship a float,
With Cockerouse as I was sitting,
I felt a Feaver Intermitting:
A fiery Pulse beat in my Veins,
From Cold I felt resembling Pains:
This cursed seasoning I remember
Lasted from March to cold December:
Nor would it then its Quarters
shift,
Until by Cardus turn'd a drift.
And had my Doctress wanted skill,
Or Kitchin Physick at her will,
My Father's Son had lost his Lands,
And never seen the Goodwin-Sands:
But thanks to fortune and a Nurse
Whose Care depended on my Purse,
I saw myself in good Condition,
Without the help of a Physitian:
At length the shivering ill
relieved,
Which long my Head and Heart had
grieved;
I then began to think with Care,
How I might sell my British Ware,
That with my freight I might comply,
Did on my Charter party lie:
To this intent, with Guide before,
I tript it to the Eastern Shoar;
While riding near a Sandy Bay,
I met a Quaker, Yea and Nay:
A Pious conscientious rogue,
As e'er woar Bonnet or a Brogue,
Who neither Swore nor kept his
Word.
But cheated in the Fear of God:
And when his Debts he would not
pay,
By Light within he ran away.
With this sly Zealot soon I struck
A Bargain for my English Truck,
Agreeing for ten thousand weight,
Of Sot-weed good and fit for
freight,
Broad Oronooko bright and sound.
The growth and product of his ground;
In Cask that should contain
compleat,
Five hundred of Tobacco neat
The contract thus betwixt us made,
Not well acquainted with the Trade,
My goods I trusted to the Cheat,
Whose crop was then aboard the
Fleet;
And going to receive my own,
I found the Bird was newly flown:
Cursing this execrable Slave,
This damn'd pretended Godly Knave;
On due Revenge and Justice ent,
I instantly to Counsel went,
Unto an ambodexter Quack,
Who learnedly had got the knack
Of giving Glisters, making Pills,
Of filling bonds, and forging
Wills;
And with a stock of Impudence,
Supply'd his want of Wit and Sense;
With Looks demure, amazing People,
No wiser than a Daw in Steeple;
My Anger flushing in my Face,
I stated the preceeding Case:
And of my Money was so lavish,
That he'd have poyson'd half the
Parish,
And hang'd his Father on a Tree,
For such another tempting Fee;
Smiling, said he, the Cause is
clear,
I'll manage him you need not fear;
The Case is judg'd, good Sir, but look
In Galen, No--in my Lord Cook,
I vow to God I was mistook:
I'll take out a Provincial Wit;
Upon my Life we'll win the Cause,
With all the ease I cure the Yaws.
Resolv'd to plauge the holy
Brother,
I set one Rogue to catch another;
To try the Cause then fully bent,
Up to Annapolis I went,
A City situate on a Plain,
Where scarce a House will keep out
Rain;
The buildings fram'd with Cyprus
rare,
Resembles much our Southwark Fair:
But Stranger here will scarcely
meet
With Market-place, Exchange, or
Street;
And if the Truth I may report,
'Tis not so large as Tottenham
Court.
St. Mary's once was in repute,
Now here the Judges try the Suit,
And Lawyers twice a Year dispute:
As oft the Bench most gravely meet,
Some to get Drunk, and some to eat
A swinging share of Country Treat.
But as for Justice right or wrong,
Not one amongst the numerous
throng,
Knows what they mean, or has the
Heart,
To give his Verdict on a Stranger's
part: