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All fly to Twit’NAM, and in humble strain 21 Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain. Arthur, whose giddy fon neglects the Laws, Imputes to me and my damn'd works the cause: Poor Cornus sees his frantic wife elope, 25 And curses Wit, and Poetry, and Pope.

Friend to my life! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What Drop or Nostrum can this plague remove? Or which must end me, a Fool's wrath or love? 30 A dire dilemma! either way I'm sped, If foes, they write, if friends, they read me dead. Seiz'd and ty'd down to judge, how wretched I! Who can't be silent, and who will not lie : To laugh, were want of goodness and of grace, 35 And to be grave, exceeds all Pow'r of face. I sit with fad civility, I read With honest anguish, and an aching head;

VARIATIONS.
Ver. 29. in the first Ed.

Dear Doctor, tell me, is not this a curse?
Say, is their anger, or their friendship worse ?

NOI £ s.
Ver. 23. Arthur,] Arthur Moore, Esq;

Ver. 33. Seiz'd and ty'd down to judge,] Alluding to the scene in the Plain-Dealer, where Oldfox gags, and ties down the Widow, to hear his well-penn'd fianzas.

Ver. 38. honest anguis,] i. e. undissembled.

Ibid. an aching head;] Alluding to the disorder he was then so constantly afflicted with

And drop at last, but in unwilling ears, 39 This saving counsel, “Keepyour piece nine years.”

Nine years! cries he, who high in Drury-lane, Lull’d by soft Zephyrs thro’ the broken pane, Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before Termends, Oblig'd by hunger, and request of friends : 44 “ The piece, you think, is incorrect? why take it, “ I'm all submission, what you'd haveit, make it.”

Three things another’s modest wishes bound, My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten pound.

Pitholeon sends to me: “ You know his Grace, “ I want a Patron; ask him for a Place.” 50 Pitholeon libell’d mes but here's a letter “ Informs you, Sir, 'twas when he knew no better. “ Dare you refuse him ? Curl invites to dine, “ He'll write a Journal, or he'll turn Divine.”

RI A TI O N S.

Ver.-53. in the MS.

If you refuse, he goes, as fates incline,
To plague Sir Robert, or to turn Divine.

NO TE S. Ver. 49. Pitholeon] The name taken from a foolish Poet of Rhodes, who pretended much to Greek. Schol. in Horat, 1. i. Dr. Bentley pretends, that this Pitholeon libelled Cæsar also. See notes on Hor. Sat. 10. I. i.

ALLUSION. VER. 43. Rhymes ere he wakes,] ." -Dictates to me slumb'ring, or inspires

" Easy my unpremeditated Verse,”

Bless me! a packet.--" 'Tis a stranger fues, 55 “ A Virgin Tragedy, an Orphan Muse.” If I dislike it, “Furies, death and rage !" If I approve, “ Commend it to the Stage.” There (thank mystars) my whole commisfion ends, The Play’rs and I are, luckily, no friends. 60 Fir’d that the house reject him, “ 'Sdeath, I'll

“ print it, “ And shame the Fools--Your int’rest, Sir, with

" Lintot." Lintot, dull rogue! will think your price too

much : “ Not, Sir, if you revise it, and retouch.” All my demurs but double his attacks ; 65 At last he whispers, “ Do; and we go fnacks." Glad of a quarrel, strait I clap the door, Sir, let me see your works and you no more.

'Tis sung, when Midas' Ears began to spring, (Midas, a sacred person and a King) 70

VARIATION S.
Ver. 60. in the former Ed.
Cibber and I are, luckily, no friends.

NOT E s. Ver. 69. 'Tis fung, when Midas', &c.] The Poet means, fung by Perfius; and the words alluded to are,

« Vidi, vidi ipse, Libelle ! " Auriculas Asini Mida Rex habét.” The transition is fine, but obscure: for he has here imitated the manner of that mysterious Writer, as well as taken up his

His very Minister who spy'd them first, (Some say his Queen) was forc'd to speak, or burst. And is not mine, my friend, a sorer case, When ev'ry coxcomb perks them in my face? A. Good friend forbear! you deal in dang’rous things.

75 I'd never name Queens, Ministers, or Kings; Keep close to Ears, and those let asses prick, 'Tis nothing--P. Nothing ? if they bite and kick? Out with it, DUNCIAD! let the secret pass, That secret to each fool, that he's an Ass : 80 The truth once told (and wherefore should welie?) The Queen of Midas slept, and so may I.

You think this cruel? take it for a rule, No creature smarts so little as a fool. 84 Let peals of laughter, Codrus! round thee break, Thou unconcern'd canst hear the mighty crack: Pit, box, and gall’ry in convulsions hurld, Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting world.

Note s. image. Our Author had been hitherto complaining of the folly and importunity of indigent Scriblers; he now insinuates he suffered as much of both, from Poetasters of quality.

VER. 72. Queen] The story is told, by some, of his Barber, but by Chaucer of his Queen. See Wife of Bath's Tale in Dryden's Fables.

Ver. 80. That secret to each fool, that he's an Ass:] i. c. that,his ears (his marks of folly) are visible.

ALLUSION. VER. 88. - Si fractus illabatur orbis,

“ Impavidum ferient ruinæ,” Her, P.

Who Thames a Scribler? break one cobweb thro',
Hespins the flight, self-pleasing thread anew: 90
Destroy his fib, or sophistry, in vain,
The creature's at his dirty work again,
Thron’d in the centre of his thin designs,
Proud of a vast extent of flimzy lines !
Whom have I hurt? has Poet yet, or Peer, 95
Lost the arch'd eye-brow, or Parnassian sneer?
And has not Colly still his lord, and whore ?
His butchers Henly, his free-masons Moor?
Does not one table Bavius still admit?
Still to one Bishop Philips seem a wit? 100
Still Sappho---A. Hold! for God-fake---you'll

offend, No Names--be calm--learn prudence of a friend: I too could write, and I am twice as tall ; But foes like these---P.One Flatt'rer's worse than all.

NOT E s. Ver. 92. The Creature's at his dirty work again,] This metamorphosis, as it were, of the Scribler into a Spider, is much more poetical than a con.parison would have been. But Poets should be cautious how they employ this figure; for where the likeness is not very striking, instead of giving force, they become obscure. Here every thing concurs to make them run into one another. They both spin; not from the head [reason] but from the guts (passions and prejudices) and such a thread that can entangle none but creatures weaker than themselves.

Ver.98. free-masons Moore?] He was of this fociety, and frequently headed their processions.

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