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Whose place is quarter'd out three parts in four,
As one of Woodward's patients, sick and sore, I puke, I nauseate-yet he thrusts in more; Trims Europe's balance, tops the statesman's part, And talks gazettes and postboys o'er by heart. 155 Like a big wife at sight of loathsome meat, Ready to cast, I yawn, I sigh, and sneat. Then as a licens'd spy, whom nothing can Silence or hurt, he libels the great man; Swears ev'ry place entail'd for years to come 160 In sure succession to the day of doom : He names the price for every office paid, And says our wars thrive ill because delay'd: Nay hints 'tis by connivance of the court That Spain robs on, and Dunkirk's still a port. 105 Not more amazement seiz'd on Circe's guests, To see themselves fall endlong into beasts, Than mine, to find a subject stay'd and wise, Already half-turn'd traitor by surprise. I felt th' infection slide from him to me, 170 As in the p-X sonic give it to get free; And quick to swallow me, methought I saw One of our giant statues ope its jaw.
In that nice moment, as another lie Stood just a-tilt, the minister came by.
To him he flies, and bows, and bows again,
Bear me, some god! Oh, quickly bear me hence
See! where the British youth, cngay'd no more
In hues as gay, and odours as divine,
230 He boarding her, she striking sail to him, “ Dear countess! you have charms all hearts
to hit!" And,“ Sweet Sir Fopling! you have so much wit!" Such wits and bcauties are not prais'd for nought, For both the beauty and the wit are bought. 235 'Twould burst e'en Heraclitus with the spleen To see thosc antics, Fopling and Courtin: The presence seems, with things so richly odd, The mosquc of Mahound, or some queer pagod. See them survey their limbs by Durer's rules, 240 Of all beau-kind the best proportion'd fools! Adjust their clothes, and to confession draw Those venial sins, an atom, or a straw: But, ob! what terrors must distract the soul Convicted of that mortal crimma hole; 245 Or should one pound of powder less bespread Those monkey tails that wag behind their head! Thus finish'd, and corrected to a hair, They march, to prate their hour before the fair So first to preach a white-glov'd chaplain goes, 250 With band of lily, and with cheek of rose, Sweeter than Sharon, in immac'late trim, Neatness itself, impertinent in him.
Let but the ladies smile, and they are blest: Prodigious! how the things protest, protest. 255 Peace, fools! or Gonson will for Papists seize you, If once he catch you at your Jesu! Jesu!
Nature made every fop to plague his brother, Just as one beauty mortifies another.
259 But here's the captain that will plague them both; Whose air cries, arm! whose very look's an oath.' The captain's honest, sirs, and that's enough, Though his soul's bullet, and his body buff: lle spits fore-right; his haughty chest before, Like battering rams, beats open every door; And with a face as red, and as awry, As Herod's hang-dogs in old tapestry, Scarcecrow to boys, the breeding woman's curse, Has yet a strange ambition to look worse; Confounds the civil, keeps the rude in awe, 270 Jests like a licens'd fool, commands like law.
Frighted I quit the room, but leave it so As men from jails to execution go; For hung with deadly sins I see the wall, And lin'd with giants deadlier than 'em all : Each man an Askapart, of strength to toss, For quoits, both Temple-bar and Charing-cross. Scard at the grisly forms, I sweat, i Ay, And shake all o'er, like a discover'd spy. 279
Courts are too much for wits so weak as mine: Charge them with Heav'n's artillery, bold divine! From such alone the great rebukes endure, Whose satire's sacred, and whose rage secure : 'Tis mine to wash a few light stains, but their's To deluge sin, and drown a court in tears. 285 Howe'er, what's now apocrypha, my wit, In time to come may pass for holy writ.
IN TWO DIALOGUES.
But Horace, sir, was delicate, was nice; Bubo observes, he lash'd no sort of vice: Horace would say, Sir Billy serv'd the crown, Blunt could do business, Higgins knew the town; In Sappho touch the failings of the sex, In reverend bishops note some small neglects, And own the Spaniard did a waggish thing, Who cropt our ears, and sent thein to the king. His sly, polite, insinuating style Could picase at court, and make Augustus smile: 20 An artful manager, that crept between His friend and shame, and was a kind of screen. But, 'faith, your very friends will soon be sore; Patriots there are who wish you'd jest no more And where's the glory: 'twill be only thought 25 The great man never offer'd you a groat. Go see Sir Robert
P. See Sir Robert!-hum And never laugh-for all my life to come? Scen him, I have; but in his happier hour Of social pleasure, ill-exchany'd for powr; 30 Seen him, uncumber'd with a venal tribe, Smile without art, and win without a bribe. Would hc oblige me? let me only find He does not think me what he thinks mankind. As