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Tho' in his pi&tures Lust be full display'd,
Few are the Converts Aretine has made;

95 And tho' the Court Ihow Vice exceeding clear, None should, by my advice, learn Virtue there.

At this entranc'd, he lifts his hands and eyes, Squeaks like a high-stretch'd lutestring, and replies: « Oh 'tis the sweetest of all earthly things IO “ To gaze on Princes, and to talk of Kings! Then, happy Man who shows the Tombs! said I, He dwells amidst the royal Family; He ev'ry day, from King to King can walk, Of all our Harries, all our Edwards talk, IOS And get by speaking truth of monarchs dead, What few can of the living, Ease and Bread. « Lord, Sir, a meer Mechanic ! strangely low, " And coarfe of phrase, -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-soy. Not, Sir, my only, I have better still, And this you see is but my difhabille

I15 Wild to get loose, his Patience I provoke, Mistake, confound, object at all he spoke.


NOTES. tator has given us more than an equivalent in that fine ftroke of moral fatire in the 106 and 107th lines.

Not so, Sir, I have more. Under this pitch
He would not Aly; I chaf'd him: but as Itch
Scratch'd into smart, and as blunt Iron groun'd
Into an edge, hurts worse : So, I (fool) found,
Crossing hurt me. To fit my sullenness,
He to another key his style doth dress ;
And asks what news ; I tell him of new playes,
He takes my hand, and as a Still which stayes
A Sembrief, 'twixt each drop, he niggardly,
As loth to inrich me, so tells many a ly.
More than ten Hollensheads, or Halls, or Stows,
Of trivial hou hold trash : He know, he knows
When the Queen frown’d or smild, and he knows what
A subtle Statesman may gather of that;

He knows who loves whom; and who by poison
Hafts to an Offices reversion;

Who wastes in meat, in clothes, in horse, he notes,

Who loves whores

He knows who hath fold his land, and now doth beg
A licence, old iron, boots, shoes, and egge-
Shells to transport;

But as coarse iron, sharpen'd, mangles more,
And itch most hurts when anger'd to a sore;
So when you plague a fool, 'tis still the curse, I20
You only make the matter worse and worfe.

He past it o'er; affects an easy fmile
At all my peevishness, and turns his style.
He asks, " What News? I tell him of new Plays,
New Eunuchs, Harlequins, and Operas. 125
He hears, and as a Still with simples in it
Between each drop it gives, stays half a minute,
Loth to enrich me with too quick replies,
By little, and by little, drops his lies.

Meer houshold trash! of birth-nights, balls, and fhows,
More than ten Hollingsheads, or Halls, or Stows.
When the Queen frown'd, or smild, he knows; and

A fubtle Minister may make of that:
Who sins with whom: who got his Penfion rug
Or quicken'd a Reversion by a drug:

Whose place is quarter'd out, three parts in four,
And whether to a Bishop, or a Whore:
Who having lost his credit, pawn'd his rent,
Is therefore fit to have a Government:
Who in the secret, deals in Stocks secure,

And cheats th' unknowing Widow and the Poor ;
Who makes a Truft or Charity a Job,
And gets an Act of Parliament to rob:

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shortly boys shall not play At span-counter, or blow-point, but shall pay Toll to fome Courtier ; and wiser than all us, He knows what Lady is not painted. Thus He with home meats cloyes me. I belch, spue, spit, Look pale and fickly, like a Patient, yet He thrusts on more, and as he had undertook, To say Gallo Belgicus without book, 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, Ready to travail: fo I figh, and sweat To hear this a Makaron talk : in vain, for yet, Either my humour, or his own to fit, He like a privileg'd spie, whom nothing can Discredit, libels now'gainst each great man. He names the price of ev'ry office paid ; He saith our wars thrive ill because delaid ;

NOTES, 2 Whom we call an Ass, the Italians style Maccheroni.

VER. 151. What Lady's face etc.) The Original is here very humourous. This torrent of scandal concludes thus,

And wifer than all us He knows what Lady the reader expects it will conclude, -what Lady is painted. No, just the contrary,

what Lady is not painted, satirically infinuating, that that is a better Proof of the goodness of his intelligence than the other. The Reader


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Why Turnpikes rise, and now no Cit nor clown
Can gratis see the country, or the town: 145
Shortly no lad shall chuck, or lady vole,
But fame excising Courtier will have toll.
He tells what strumpet places sells for life,
What 'Squire his lands, what citizen his wife :
And last (which proves him wiser still than all) 150
What Lady's face is not a whited wall.

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 Poft-boys o'er by heart.
Like a big wife at sight of loathsome meat
Ready to cast, I yawn, I sigh, and sweat.
Then as a licens’d fpy, whom nothing can
Silence or hurt, he libels the great Man;
Swears ev'ry place entail'd for years to come,

In sure succession to the day of doom :
He names the price for ev'ry office paid,
And says our wars thrive ill, because delay'd :

sees there is greater force in the use of these plain words,
than in those which the Imitator employs. And the rea-
son is, because the satire does not turn upon the odiousness
of painting ; in which case the terms of a painted wall
had given force to the expreffion ; but upon the frequency
of it, which required only the simple mention of the

VER. 152. As one of Woodward's patients,] Alluding to the effects of his use of oils in bilious disorders.

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