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THE

SECOND EPISTLE

OF THE

SECOND BOOK

O F

HORACE.

Ludentis fpeciem dabit, et torquebitur. HOR.

EPISTOLA II.

F

"Hic et

LORE, bono claroque fidelis amice Neroni, Si quis forte velit puerum tibi vendere natum Tibure vel Gabiis, et tecum fic agat: "Candidus, et talos a vertice pulcher ad imos, "Fiet eitque tuus nummorum millibus octo; "Verna minifteriis ad nutus aptus heriles; "Litterulis Græcis imbutus, idoneus arti "Cuilibet: argilla quidvis imitaberis uda:

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Quin etiam canet indoctum, fed dulce bibenti. "Multa fidem promiffa levant, ubi plenius aequo "Laudat venales, qui vult extrudere, merces.

Res urget me nulla: `meo fum pauper in aere. "Nemo hoc mangonum faceret tibi: non temere a

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"Quivis ferret idem: femel hic ceffavit, et (ut fit) "In fcalis latuit metuens pendentis habenae: "Des nummos, excepta nihil te fi fuga laedit.

Ille ferat pretium, poenae fecuius, opinor. Prudens emifti vitiofum: dicta tibi eft lex. Infequeris tamen hunc, et lite moraris iniqua.

VER. 4. This Lad, Sir, is of Blois:] A Town in Beauce, where the French tongue is spoken in great purity.

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EPISTLE II.

D

EAR Col'nel, COBHAM's and your country's
Friend!

You love a Verfe, take fuch as I can fend.

b A Frenchman comes, prefents you with his Boy, Bows and begins" This Lad, Sir, is of Blois : "Obferve his shape how clean! his locks how curl'd! My only fon, I'd have him see the world: 6 "His French is pure; his Voice too—you shall hear.

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Sir, he's your flave, for twenty pound a year. "Mere wax as yet, you fashion him with eafe, "Your Barber, Cook, Upholft'rer, what you please: "A perfect genius at an Op'ra-fong

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"To fay too much, might do my honour wrong. "Take him with all his virtues, on my word; "His whole ambition was to ferve a Lord; "But, Sir, to you, with what would I not part? 15 "Tho 'faith, I fear, 'twill break his Mother's heart. "Once (and but once) I caught him in a lye, "And then, unwhipp'd, he had the grace to cry: "The fault he has I fairly fhall reveal,

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(Could you o'erlook but that) it is to steal.
If, after this, you took the graceless lad,

Could

you complain, my Friend, he prov'd fo bad?

20

d Dixi me pigrum proficifcenti tibi, dixi Talibus officiis prope mancum: né méa faevus Jurgares ad te quod epiftola nulla veniret.

Quid tum profeci, mecum facientia jura
Si tamen attentas? quereris fuper hoc etiam, quod
Exfpectata tibi non mittam carmina mendax.
Luculli miles collecta viatica multis

Aerumnis, laffus dum noctu ftertit, ad assem
Perdiderat poft hoc vehemens lupus, et fibi et hofti
Iratus pariter, jejunis dentibus acer,
Praefidium regale loco dejecit, ut aiunt,
Summe munito, et multarum divite rerum.
Clarus ob id factum, donis ornatur honestis,
Accipit et bis dena fuper feftertia nummûm.
Forte fub hoc tempus caftellum evertere praetor
Nefcio quod cupiens, hortari coepit eundem
Verbis, quae timido quoque poffent addere mentem :
I, bone, quo virtus tua te vocat: i pede faufto,
Grandia laturus meritorum praemia: quid ftas?

VER. 24. I think Sir Godfrey] An eminent Juftice of Peace, who decided much in the manner of Sancho Pancha.-Sir Godfrey Kneller.

VER. 33. In Anna's Wars, etc.] Many parts of this story are well told; but, on the whole, it is much inferior to the original. VER. 37. This put the man, etc. Greatly below the Original, Poft hoc vehemens lupus, et fibi et hofti

Iratus pariter, jejunis dentibus acer.

The last words are particularly elegant and humourous.

Faith, in fuch cafe, if you fhould profecute,

I think Sir Godfrey fhould decide the fuit;
Who fent the Thief that ftole the Cash, away,
And punish'd him that put it in his way.

a Confider then, and judge me in this light; I told you when I went, I could not write; You faid the fame; and are you discontent

25

With Laws, to which you gave your own affent? zo Nay worse, to ask for Verfe at such a time!

D'ye think me good for nothing but to rhyme?

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In ANNA's Wars, a Soldier poor and old

Had dearly earned a little purfe of gold:

Tir'd with a tedious march, one lucklefs hight, 35
He flept, poor dog! and loft it, to a doit.
This put the man in fuch a defp'rate mind,
Between revenge, and grief, and hunger join'd
Against the foe, himself, and all mankind,
He leap'd the trenches, fcal'd a Caftle-wall,
Tore down a Standard, took the Fort and all.

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Prodigious well;" his great Commander cry'd, Gave him much praife, and fome reward befide. Next pleas'd his Excellence a town to batter; (Its name I know not, and it's no great matter) 45

VIR. 43. Gave him much praise, and fome reward befide!] For the fake of a ftroke of fatire, he has here weakened that circumftance on which the turn of the ftory depends. Horace avoided it, tho' the avaricious character of Lucullus was a

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