Epistle XX. To the Meritoriously Honourable Lord Chief Justice of the Kings-Bench

Great Sir, and Good! beloved, and obey'd!
To whose great worth, honour's not giv'n but paid.
To whose great love, and knowledge we all owe,
All that we have of law, and that we know;
Who with strong reason, from the factious clawes
Of wilful fools, redeem'd our sacred lawes.

Full twenty years have I a Servant been,
To this Profession, I live by and in:
Eight years a Master, and in all this space,
Have nothing done that mis-became my place;
Nor have my actions been Derogatory
Unto my Clients profit, or the glory
Of this renowned Court; and therefore I
Now humbly beg to be at liberty.
Justice, and reason both command, that he
Who serv'd, so long, should at the last be free:
For this I serv'd, for this our Nation fought,
And pray'd, and paid so much; nor do I doubt,
T' obtain my wish herein, could I but find,
Desert in me proportion'd to your mind.

The benefit o'th' Clergy I desire,
That I may be admitted of that Quire.
Who their own Pleas, in their own names enrowl,
And may perform my place without controul.

My Lord, you've power and will to do't, and though
I am not worthy, if you think me so,
Your Lordships test can constitute me that,
Which my abilities can near reach at.

My comfort is, 'tis what you don't deny
To some, that read and write as bad as I:
And there's a kindness which belongs to such,
As having little worth, beg where there's much.
Caesar that valiant General was ador'd
More for his liberal hand, then for his Sword;
And your great Archetipe his Highness does
Derive more honour from the mouthes of those
Whom he hath gratifi'd, then by the death
Of those his conquering sword depriv'd of breath.

Freedome's a Princely thing to give, 'tis that
Which all our Laws do stand for, and aim at;
And 'twill be some addition to your fame,
When I with tongue, and pen enlarg'd, proclaim,
'Mong all your Noble acts, you made a room,
In your great heart, for—A. B.