I. KILL YOV ALL

Marke well the effect, purtreyed here in all:
The Prelate with his dignities renowne,
The King that rules, the Lawyer in the hall,
The Harlot and the countrey toyling Clowne:
Howe and which way together they agree,
And what their talke and conference might be.
Ech to their cause, for gard of their degree,
And yet death is the conquerour you see.
THe bishop vaunts to pray for thother fower,
As who wold say, he holds the palme & pri e,
And that in him and his most holy power,
It doth depend, their causes to suffise
I pray (saith he) that Christs continual grace
May them conduct, & guide in euery place.
THe puissant King he claimeth to defend,
The bishop and the other three like case,
In all conflictes or broyles vnto the end,
Who but his power their enemies doth deface
He [...]ursters men, and sends them forth a farre
In their behalf, to maintaine deadly warre.
THe smiling queane, the harlot cald by name,
Stands stiffe vpon the blafe of beauty braue,
To vanquish all, she makes her prized clame.
And that she ought the golden spurs to haue,
For by her flights she can bewitch the best,
The strong, the Lawyer, & the rest.
THe Lawyer he, in title of his clame,
Presumeth next, by law and iustice true,
Somwhat the more, to eleuate his name:
For law (saith he) all discord doth subdue:
It endeth strife, it giues to ech his right,
And wholy doth contention vanquish quight
THe contry clowne full loth to lose his rigth,
Puts in his foot, and pleads to be the chiefe.
What can they do (saith he) by power or might,
If that by me they haue not their reliefe?
For want of food they should all perish than,
What say you now to me the countrey man.
For want of me they should both line and lacke,
For want of me they could not till the earth,
And thats the cause I cary on my backe,
This table here of plenty not of dearth.
I feast them all, their hunger I appease,
For by my toyle they feede euen at their ease.
DEath that aloofe in stealing wise doth stand
Hearing the vaunts that they begin to make.
Straight steppeth forth, with piercing dart [...] hād
And boldly seemes the quarell vp to take.
Are they (saith he) so proud in their degree,
Lo, here by me soone conquered shall they bee,
And standing by to giue their later foode,
He entreth straight, the conquest to attaine,
Thers none of them (saith he) the chiefest blond
That valiant death intendeth to refraine,
Ile crop their crowne & garlands fresh and gay,
And at the last Ile shrine them all in clay.
  • I pray for you all.
  • I help you all to your right.
  • I defend you all.
  • I vanquish you all.
  • I seede you all.
  • I will kill you all.

(⁂) The Authors Apostrophe to the Reader.

Here may you see, what as the world might be,
The rich, the poore, Earle, Cesar, Duke, & King▪
Death spareth not the chiefest high degree,
He triumphes still, on euery earthly thing,
While then we liue let vs endeuour still,
That all our works agree with Gods goodwill.

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