SATIRE IV.

WELL; if it be my time to quit the stage,

Adieu to all the follies of the age!

I die in charity with fool and knave,
Secure of peace at least beyond the grave.
I've had my purgatory here betimes,

And paid for all my fatires, all my rhymes.
The poet's hell, its tortures, fiends, and flames
To this were trifles, toys and empty names.
With foolish pride my heart was never fir'd,
Nor the vain itch t'admire, or be admir'd;
I hop'd for no commiffion from his grace;
I bought no benefice, I begg'd no place;
Had no new verses, nor new fuit to show;
Yet went to court! the dev'l would have it fo.

But, as the fool that in reforming days

Would go to mass in jest (as story says)

Could not but think, to pay his fine was odd,
Since 'twas no form'd defign of serving God;
So was I punish'd, as if full as proud
As prone to ill, as negligent of good,
As deep in debt, without a thought to pay,
As vain, as idle, and as false, as they
Who live at court, for going once that way!

Therefore I fuffer'd this; towards me did run A thing more strange, than on Nile's flime the fun E'er bred, or all which into Noah's ark came : A thing which would have pos'd Adam to name : Stranger than feven antiquaries studies, Than Africk monsters, Guianaes rarities, Stranger than ftrangers : one who, for a Dane, In the Danes maffacre had fure been flain, If he had liv'd then; and without help dies, When next the prentices 'gainst strangers rise ; One whom the watch at noon lets fcarce go by; One, to whom the examining justice sure would cry: Sir, by your priesthood, tell me what you are?

His cloaths were ftrange, tho' coarse, and black, though bare,

Sleeveless his jerkin was, and it had been
Velvet, but 'twas now (fo much ground was feen)
Become tufftaffaty; and our children shall
See it plain rash a while, then nought at all.
The thing hath travail'd, and, faith, speaks all
tongues,

And only knoweth what to all states belongs,
Made of th' accents, and beft phrase of all these,
He speaks one language. If ftrange meats displease,
Art can deceive, or hunger force my taft;
But pedants motly tongue, foldiers bumbast,
Mountebanks drug-tongue, nor the terms of law,
Are ftrong enough preparatives to draw

Scarce was I enter'd, when, behold! there came
A thing which Adam had been pos'd to name;
Noah had refus'd it lodging in his ark,
Where all the race of reptiles might embark :
A verier monster, than on Africk's shore

The fun e'er got, or flimy Nilus bore,

Or Sloane or Woodward's wondrous shelves contain,
Nay, all that lying travellers can feign.

The watch would hardly let him pafs at noon,
At night, would fwear him dropt out of the moon.
One whom the mob, when next we find or make
A popish plot, shall for a Jefuit take,
And the wife juftice, 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 fuit, if by the fashion one might guess,
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!
Our fons shall fee it leifurely decay,

First turn plain rash, then vanish quite away.

This thing has travel'd, fpeaks each language too,

And knows what's fit for ev'ry state to do;
Of whofe beft phrafe and courtly accent join'd,

He forms one tongue exotic and refin'd.

Talkers I've learn'd to bear; Motteux I knew,

Henley himself I've heard, and Budgel too.
The doctor's Wormwood ftyle, the hash of tongues
A pedant makes, the storm of Gonson's lungs,
The whole artill❜ry of the terms of war,
And (all those plagues in one ) the bawling bar:

Me to hear this, yet I must be content

With his tongue, in his tongue call'd complement:
In which he can win widows, and pay scores,
Make men speak treason, couzen subtlest whores,
Out-flatter favourites, or out-lie either

Jovius, or Surius, or both together.

He names me, and comes to me; I whisper: God, How have I finn'd, that thy wrath's furious rod, This fellow, chufeth me! He faith: Sir,

I love your judgment, whom you do prefer
For the best linguift? and I feelily

Said that I thought Calepine's dictionary.

Nay, but of men,

moft fweet Sir? Beza then,

Some Jefuits, and two feverend men

Of our two academies I nam'd: here

He stopt me, and said: Nay your apostles were
Good pretty linguists; so Panurgus was,
Yet a poor gentleman; all these may pass
By travail. Then, as if he would have fold
His tongue, he prais'd it, and fuch wonders told,
That I was fain to fay: If you had liv'd, Sir,
Time enough to have been interpreter

To Babel's bricklayers, fure the tower had stood.
He adds: If of court life you knew the good,

Thefe I could bear; but not a rogue fo civil,
Whofe tongue will compliment you to the devil.
A tongue, that can cheat widows, cancel fcores,
Make Scots speak treason, cozen fubtleft whores,
With royal favourites in flatt'ry vie,

And Oldmixon and Burnet both out-lie,

He spies me out; I whisper : Gracious God!
What fin of mine could merit fuch a rod?
That all the shot of dulnefs now must be
From this thy blunderbuss discharg❜d on me!
Permit (he cries) no ftranger to your fame
To crave your fentiment, if―'s your name.
What fpeech esteem you most? » The King's, « faid I.
But the best words? »O Sir, the Dictionary «.
You miss my aim; I mean the most acute
And perfect speaker? » Onflow, paft difpute «<,
But, Sir, of writers? » Swift, for closer style,
But Ho**y for a period of a mile «.

Why yes, 'tis granted, these indeed may pass:
Good common linguists, and so Panurge was;
Nay troth th' apostles (tho' perhaps too rough)
Had once a pretty gift of tongues enough:
Yet thefe were all poor gentlemen! I dare
Affirm, 'twas travel made them what they were.
Thus others talents having nicely shown,
He came by fure tranfition to his own :
Till I cry'd out: You prove yourself so able,
Pity! you was not druggerman at Babel
For had they found a linguist half so good,
I make no question but the tow'r had stood.

» Obliging Sir! for courts you fure were made: >> Why then for ever bury'd in the shade?