But pray,

Cobham's a Coward, POLWARTH is a Slave, 130
And LYTTLETON a dark, designing Knave,
ST. JOHN has ever been a wealthy Fool---
But let me add, Sir ROBERT's mighty dull,
Has never made a Friend in private life,
And was, besides, a Tyrant to his Wife.

135 when others praise him, do I blame? Call Verres, Wolsey, any odious name? Why rail they then, if but a Wreath of mine, Oh AH-accomplish'd St. John ! deck thy shrine ?

What? fhall each spurgall’d Hackney of the day, When Paxton gives him double Pots and Pay, 141 Or each new-pension'd Sycophant, pretend To break my Windows if I treat a Friend? Then wisely plead, to me they meant no hurt, But 'twas my Guest at whom they threw the dirt ?

Notes. Ver. 130. Polwarth.] The Hon. Hugh Hume, Son of Altxander Earl of Marchmont, Grandson of Patric Earl of Marchmont, and distinguished, like them, in the cause of Liberty. P.

Ver. 136. do I blame? Call Verres, Wolsey, any odions name?] The Leaders of Parties, be they as Horid as they will, generally do their business by compendium: A fin. gle rule of Rhetoric, which they may have learnt of Quintilian, or perhaps of a much older Sophist, does their bufiness, si nibil, quod nos adjuvet, erit, quæramus quid Adversarium ladat.

SCRIB. VER 141. When Paxton gives him double pots If this band of Pensioners were so offensive while embodied

and pay, ]

Sure, if I spare the Minister, no rules 146
Of Honour bind me, not to maul his Tools;
Sure, if they cannot cut, it may be faid
His Saws are toothlefs, and his Hatchets Lead.

It anger'd TURENNE, once upon a day, 150
To see a Footman kick'd that took his pay :
But when he heard th' Affront the Fellow gave,
Knew one a Man of honour, one a Knave;
The prudent Gen'ral turn’d it to a jest,
And begg’d, he'd take the pains to kick the reft: 155
Which not at present having time to do---
F. Hold Sir ! for God's-fake where's th’ Affront to

you?

Against your worship when had S---k writ?
Or P---ge pour'd forth the Torrent of his Wit?
Or grant' the Bard whose distich all commend 160
(In Pow'r a Servant, out of Pow'r a friend]
To W-.-le guilty of some venial fin ;
What's that to you who ne'er was out nor in ?

Notis. and under discipline, what must we think of their disorders since they were disbanded and become free-booters ? No virtue nor merit hath escaped them. They have made a great City in the South, too much resemble another in the North, where the products of night and darkness are discharged from Garrets on every honest man that comes within their reach.

Ver. 160. tbe Bard] A verse taken out of a poem to Sir R. W., P.

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The Priest whose Flattery be-dropt the Crown, How hurt he you? he only stain'd the Gown. 165 And how did, pray, the Aorid Youth offend, Whose Speech you took, and gave it to a Friend? P. Faith, it imports not much from whom it came ; Whoever borrow'd, could not be to blame, Since the whole House did afterwards the fame.. Let Courtly. Wits to Wits afford supply, 171 As Hog to Hog in huts of Westphaly ; If one, thro’ Nature's Bounty or his Lord's, Has what the frugal, dirty foil affords, From him the next receives it, thick or thin,

175 As pure

a mefs almost as it came in ;
The blessed benefit, not there confin'd,
Drops to the third, who nuzzles close behind;
From tail to mouth, they feed and they carouse:
The last full fairly gives it to the House.

180 F. This filthy fimile, this beastly line Quite turns my stomach

P. So does Flatt'ry mine ; And all your courtly Civet-cats can vent, Perfume to you, to me is Excrement.

Notes.

Ver. 164. The Priet etc.] Spoken not of any particular priest, but of many priests. P.

Ver. 166. And how did, etc.] This seems to allude to a complaint made x 71. of the preceding Dialogue, P.

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