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Well, if our author in the wife offends,
25 He has a husband that will make amends: He draws him gentle, tender, and forgiving; And sure such kind good creatures may be living. In days of old, they pardon'd breach of vows, Stern Cato's self was no relentless spouse:
SO Plu-Plutarch, what's his name, that writes his life? Tells us, that Cato dearly lov'd his wife: Yet if a friend, a night or so, should need her, He'd recommend her as a special breeder. To lend a wife, few here would scruple make; 35 But, pray, which of you all would take her back? Though with the stoic chief our stage may ring, The stoic husband was the glorious thing. The man had courage, was a sage, 'tis true. And lov’d his country--but what's that to you? 40 Those strange examples ne'er were made to fit ye, But the kind cuckold might instruct the city : There, many an honest man may copy Cato, Who ne'er saw naked sword, or look'd in Plato.
If, after all, you think it a disgrace, That Edward's miss thus perks it in your face; To see a piece of failing flesh and blood, In all the rest so impudently good; Faith, let the modest matrons of the town Come here in crowds, and stare the strumpet down.
ON RECEIVING FROM
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
A STANDISI AND-TWO PENS *.
* These lines were occasioned by the poet's being threatened with a prosecution in the House of Lords, for writing the Epilogue to the Satires.
“ Secure the radiant weapons wield; This golden lance shall guard desert, And if a vice dares keep the field, This steel shall stab it to the heart." Aw'd, on my bended knees I fell, Receiv'd the weapons of the sky, And dipp'd them in the sable well, The fount of fame or infamy. “ What well? what weapon?" Flavia cries, “ A standish, steel, and golden pen! It came from Bertrand's, not the skies; I gave it you to write again. « But, friend! take heed whom you attack; You'll bring a House (I mean of Peers) Red, blue, and green, nay, white and black, L** and all about your ears. “ You'd write as smooth again on glass, And run on ivory so glib, As not to stick at fool or ass, Nor stop at Mattery or fib. “ Athenian Queen! and sober charms! I tell ye, fool! there's nothing in't : 'Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms; In Dryden's Virgil see the print. “ Come, if you'll be a quiet soul, That dares tell neither truth nor lies, I'll list you in the harmless roll Of those that sing of these poor eyes."
Written in the Year 1733.
Mild Arcadians, ever blooming,
A CHARACTER. When simple Macer, now of high renown,. First sought a poet's fortune in the town, 'Twas all th' ambition his high soul could feel To wear red stockings, and to dine with Steele :
Some ends of verse his betters might afford, 5
So some coarse country-wench, almost decay'd, 15
20 In a translated suit then tries the town, With borrow'd pins, and patches not her own; But just endur'd the winter she began, And in four months a batter'd harridan: Now nothing left, but wither'd, pale, and shrunk, To bawd for others, and go shares with punk. 20
VERBATIM FROM BOILEAU.
Un jour, dit un auteur, &c. ONCE (says an author, where I need not say) Two travellers found an oyster in their way: Both fierce, both hungry, the dispute grew strong, While, scale in hand, dame Justice pass'd along. Before her each with clamour pleads the laws, Explain'd the matter, and would win the cause. Danie Justice weighing long the doubtful right, Takes, opens, swallows it before their sight. The cause of strife remov'd so rarely well, There take (says Justice), take ye each a shell. 10 We thrive at Westminster on fools like you: 'Twas a fat oyster-live in peace-Adieu.”