Tho' in his pictures Luft be full display'd, 95 100 He ev'ry day, from King to King can walk, Of all our Harries, all our Edwards talk, And get by speaking truth of monarchs dead, What few can of the living, Ease and Bread. "Lord, Sir, a meer Mechanic! ftrangely low, "And coarfe of phrafe,-your English all are so. "How elegant your Frenchmen?" Mine, d'ye mean? I have but one, I hope the fellow's clean. "Oh! Sir, politely fo! nay, let me die, "Your only wearing is your Padua-foy." Not, Sir, my only, I have better ftill, And this you fee is but my dishabilleWild to get loofe, his Patience I provoke, Miftake, confound, object at all he spoke. NOTES. III 115 tator has given us more than an equivalent in that fine ftroke of moral fatire in the 106 and 107th lines. Not fo, Sir, I have more. Under this pitch He would not fly; I chaf'd him: but as Itch a ly. More than ten Hollenfheads, or Halls, or Stows, Of trivial houthold trash: He know, he knows When the Queen frown'd or fmil'd, and he knows what A fubtle Statesman may gather of that; He knows who loves whom; and who by poifon Hafts to an Offices reverfion; Who wastes in meat, in clothes, in horse, he notes, Who loves whores He knows who hath sold his land, and now doth beg A licence, old iron, boots, fhoes, and egge Shells to transport; But as coarse iron, fharpen'd, mangles more, 120 He afks, "What News? I tell him of new Plays, New Eunuchs, Harlequins, and Operas. 125 He hears, and as a Still with fimples in it Between each drop it gives, ftays half a minute, 129 By little, and by little, drops his lies. Meer houfhold trash! of birth-nights, balls, and fhows, More than ten Hollingfheads, or Halls, or Stows. When the Queen frown'd, or fmil'd, he knows; and what A fubtle Minister may make of that: Who fins with whom: who got his Penfion rug Whofe place is quarter'd out, three parts in four, 135 140 And cheats th' unknowing Widow and the Poor: Who makes a Truft or Charity a Job, shortly boys shall not play At fpan-counter, or blow-point, but shall pay He with home meats cloyes me. I belch, spue, fpit, He thrufts on more, and as he had undertook, Speaks of all States and deeds that have been fince The Spaniards came to th' loss of Amyens. Like a big wife, at fight of loathed meat, To hear this Makaron talk: in vain, for yet, NOTES. a Whom we call an Afs, the Italians ftyle Maccheroni. VER. 151. What Lady's face etc.] The Original is here very humourous. This torrent of fcandal concludes thus, And wifer than all ús He knows what Lady the reader expects it will conclude,-what Lady is painted. No, juft the contrary, what Lady is not painted, fatirically infinuating, that that is a better Proof of the goodness of his intelligence than the other. The Reader 3 Why Turnpikes rife, and now no Cit nor clown Can gratis see the country, or the town: 145 Shortly no lad fhall chuck, or lady vole, 150 As one of Woodward's patients, fick, and fore, I'puke, I nauseate,—yet he thrusts in more: Trim's Europe's balance, tops the statesman's part, And talks Gazettes and Post-boys o'er by heart. Like a big wife at fight of loathsome meat Ready to caft, I yawn, I figh, and sweat. Then asa licens'd spy, whom nothing can Silence or hurt, he libels the great Man; Swears ev'ry place entail'd for years to come, In fure fucceffion to the day of doom: He names the price for ev'ry office paid, And fays our wars thrive ill, because delay'd : NOTES. 160 fees there is greater force in the use of these plain words, than in those which the Imitator employs. And the reafon is, because the fatire does not turn upon the odiousness of painting; in which cafe the terms of a painted wall had given force to the expreffion; but upon the frequency of it, which required only the fimple mention of the thing. VER. 152. As one of Woodward's patients,] Alluding to the effects of his ufe of oils in bilious disorders. |