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No Commentator can more flily pass
So Luther thought the Pater-nofter long,
The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods, that shaded all the ground? We see no new-built palaces aspire, No kitchens emulate the veftal fire. Where are those troops of Poor, that throng'd of yore The good old landlord's hospitable door? Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes II+ Some beasts were kill'd, tho' not whole hecatombs; That both extremes were banish'd from their walls, Carthufian fasts, and fulsome Bacchanals; And all mankind might that juft Mean observe, In which none e'er could surfeit, none could starve. These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow; But oh! these works are not in fashion now: Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare, Extremely fine, but what no man will wear.
Thus much I've said, I trust, without offence; Let no Court Sycophant pervert my sense, 125 Norfly Informer watch these words to draw Within the reach of Treason, or the Law.
S A TI
T I RE
ELL; I may now receive, and die. My fin
Indeed is great, but yet I have been in
My mind, neither with pride's itch, nor hath been
Poyson'd with love to see or to be seen,
I had no suit there, nor new suit to show,
Yet went to Court; but as Glare which did
To Mass in jest, catch'd, was fain to disburse Two hundred markes, which is the Statutes ourse,
Ver. 1. Il'ell, if it be ctc.] Donne says,
Well; Incy now receive and die.. which is very indecent language on fo ludicrous an occa(100
Ver. 3. I die in charity with fool and knav,] We verily think he did. But of the immediate cause of his departure hence there is some small difference bcoween his Friends and Enemies. His family suggests that a general decay of nature, which had been long coming on, ended with a Dropsy in the breast, enough to have killed Hercules. The Gentlemen of the Dunciad maintain, that be
SATIRE IV. WELL, if it be my time to quit the fage,
ELL, if it be my time to quit the stage,
Adieu to all the follies of the age !
With foolish pride my heart was never fir’d,
Notes. fell by the keen pen of our redoubtable Laureat. We ourselves should be inclined to this latter opinion, for the sake of ornamenting his story; for it would be a fine thing for his Historian to be able to say, that he died, like his immortal namesake, Alexander the Great, by a drug of so deadly cold a nature, that, as Plutarch and other grave writers tell us, it could be contained in nothing but the Scull of an Ass.
SCRIBL. Ver. 7. The Poet's bell] He has here with great pru. dence corrected the licentious expression of his Original.
Before he scap'd ; so it pleas'd my destiny
Therefore I suffer'd this; towards me did run
though bare, Sleeveless his jerkin was, and it had been Velvet, but 'twas now (so much ground was seen) Become Tufftaffaty; and our children shall See it plain rafh a while, then nought at all
Notes. a This is ill expressed, for it only means, he would be more stared at than Strangers are.
Could not but think, to pay his fine was odd,
31 The watch would hardly let him pafs at noon, At night, wou'd swear him dropt out of the Moon. One whom the mob, when next we find or make A popish plot, shall for a Jesuit take,
35 And the wise Justice starting from his chair Cry, By your Priesthood tell me what you are?
Such was the wight: Th' apparel on his back Tho' coarse, was rev’rend, and tho' bare, was black: The suit, if by the fashion one might guess,
40 Was velvet in the youth of good Queen Bess, But mere tuff-taffety what now remain'd; So Time, that changes all things, had ordain'd!