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Come, conie, at all I laugh he laughs, no doubt;. 35 The only difference is--I dare laugh out.
F. Why, yes: with Scripture still you may be free; A horse-laugh, if you please, at honesty, A joke on Jekyll, or some odd old Whig, Who never chang’d his principle or wig:
" Who's the man so near
50 Sejanus, Wolsey, hurt not honest Fleury, But well may put some statesmen in a furg.
Laugh then at any but at fools or foes: These you but anger, and you mend not those. Laugh at your friends, and if your friends are sore, So much the better, you may laugh the more, 56 To vice and fully to confine the jest Sets half the world, God knows, against the rest, Did not the sneer of more impartial men At sense and virtue balance all again: Judicious wits spread wide the ridicule, înd charitably comfort knave and fool.
P. Dear sir, forgive the prejudice of youth: Adieu distinction, satire, warmth, and truth! (ome, harmless characters that no one hit; 65 Come, Henley's oratory, Osborn's wit! The honey dropping from Favonia's tongue, The flowers of Bubo, and the flow of Young! The gracious dew of pulpit eloquence, And all the well-whipt cream of courtly sense; 70 The first was H**vy's, F**'s next, and then The S**te's, and then H**vy's once again. come! that easy Ciceronian style,
atin yet so English all the while,
As, though the pride of Middleton and Bland, 75
F. Why so? if satire knows its time and place, You still may lash the greatest-in disgrace; For merit will by turns forsake them all; Would you know when? exactly when they fall. 90 But let all satire in all changes spare Immortal S**k,
P. Good Ileav'n forbid that I should llast their Who know how like Whig ministers to Tory, 106 And when three sov’reigns died could scarce be vext, Consid'ring what a gracious prince was vext. Have I, in silent wonder, seen such things As pride in slaves, and avarice in kings?
110 And at a pcer or peeress shall I fret, Who starves a sister or forswears a debt? Virtue, I grant you, is an empty boast; But shall the dignity of vice be lost?
Ye gods! shall Cibber's son, without rebuke, 115
130 Let modest Foster, if he will, excel Ten metropolitans in preaching well; A simple Quaker, or a Quaker's wife, Outdo Landaff in doctrine-yea, in life: Let humble Allen, with an awkward shame,
135 Do good by stealth, and blush to find ii fame. Virtue may choose the high or low degree, 'T'is just alike to virtue and to me; Dwell in a monk, or light upon a king, She's still the same belov'd, contented thing. 140 Vice is undone if she forgets her birth, And stoops from angels to the dregs of carth; But 'tis the fall degrades her to a whore; Let greatness own her, and she's mean no more: Her birth, her beauty, crowds and courts confess, 145 Chasie matrons praise ber, and grave bishops bless; In golden chains the willing world she draws, And her's the gospel is, and her's the laws; Mounts the tribunal, lifts her scarlet head, And sees pale virtue carted in her stead.
150 Lo! at the wheels of her triumphal car Old England's genius, rough with many a scar, Dragged in the dust! his arms hang idly round, His Hag inverted trails along the ground!
Our youth, all liveried o'er with foreign gold, 155
170 Yet may this verse (if such a verse remain) Show there was one who held it in disdain.
P. Not yet, my friend! to morrow, 'faith, it may;
F. Yet none but you by name the guilty lash; 10 Ev'n Guthry saves half Newgate by a dash. Spare then the person, and expose the vice.
P. How, sir! not damn the sharper, but the dice? Come on then, satire ! general, unconfin’d, Spread thy broad wing, and souse on all the kind. 15 Ye statesmen, priests, of one religion all! Ye tradesmen, vile, in army, court, or hall! Ye reverend atheists.-F. Scandal! name them, who? P. Why that's the thing you bid me not to do.
• Solicitor of the Treasury.
Who starv'd a sister, who forswore a debt, 20
F. You do.
P. The brib'd clectòr-F. There you stoop too low.
P. I fain would please you if I knew with what; 26 Tell me, which knave is lawful game, which not? Must great offenders, once escap'd the crown, Like royal barts, be never more run down? Admit your law to spare the knight requires, SO As beasts of nature may we hunt the squires? Suppose I censure--you know what I meanTo save a bishop may I nane a dean?
F. A dean, sir? no, his fortune is not made; You hurt a man that's rising in the trade.
35 P. If not the tradesman who set up to-day, Much less the 'prentice who to-morrow inay. Down, down, proud satire! though a realın be spoil'd, Arraign no mightier thief than wretched Wild; Or, it a court or country's made a job,
40 Go, drench a pickpocket, and join the mob.
But, sir, I beg you, (for the love of vice !)
and friendless villain, than the great?
30 May pinch ev’n there—why lay it on a king.
F. Stop! Stop!
P. Must satire then nor rise nor fall? Speak out, and bid me blame no rogues at all.
F. Yes, strike that Wild, I'll justify the blow.
P. Strike! why the man was hang’d ten years ago: Who now that obsolete example fears?
56 Ev'o Peter trembles only for his ears?