ines either way according as the
weight of the bribe inclines it, so does his. He lays one hand on the
Book, and the other is in the plaintiff's or defendant's pocket. He
feeds upon his conscience, as a monkey eats his tail. He kisses the Book
to show he renounces and takes his leave of it. Many a parting kiss has
he given the Gospel. He pollutes it with his lips oftener than a
hypocrite. He is a sworn officer of every court and a great practiser,
is admitted within the Bar, and makes good what the rest of the counsel
say. The attorney and solicitor fee and instruct him in the case, and he
ventures as far for his client as any man to be laid by the ears. He
speaks more to the point than any other, yet gives false ground to his
brethren of the jury, that they seldom come near the jack. His oaths are
so brittle that not one in twenty of them will hold the taking, but fly
as soon as they are out. He is worse than an ill conscience, for that
bears true witness, but his is always false; and though his own
conscience be said to be a thousand witnesses, he will outswear and
outface them all. He believes it no sin to bear false witness for his
neighbour that pays him for it, because it is not forbidden, but only to
bear false witness against his neighbour.

AN UNDESERVING FAVOURITE

Is a piece of base metal with the King's stamp upon it, a fog raised by
the sun to obscure his own brightness. He came to preferment by unworthy
offices, like one that rises with his bum forwards, which the rabble
hold to be fortunate. He got up to preferment on the wrong side, and
sits as untoward in it. He is raised rather above himself than others,
or as base metals are by the test of lead, while gold and silver
continue still unmoved. He is raised and swells, like a pimple, to be an
eyesore and deform the place he holds. He is borne like a cloud on the
air of the Prince's favour, and keeps his light from the rest of his
people. He rises, like the light end of a balance, for want of weight,
or as dust and feathers do, for being light. He gets into the Prince's
favour by wounding it. He is a true person of honour, for he does but
act it at the best; a lord made only to justify all the lords of
May-poles, morrice-dances, and misrule; a thing that does not live, but
lie in state before he's dead, such as the heralds dight at funerals.
His Prince gives him honour out of his own stock, and estate out of his
revenue, and lessens himself in both:--