“ Sir, Flaccus knew to live as well as write, FRIEND. POET. Indulge the beggar and the dogs at last: 1 In allusion to the unnatural orgies said to be solemnized on the banks of this river, particularly at Medmenham Abbey, where a much greater sanctity of morals and tastes might be expected. 2 This is a decent and parental office, in which dulness is employed: namely, to conceal the failings of her children: and exactly conformable to that instance of filial piety which we meet with in the son of Noah, who went backward, to cover the nakedness of his father, when he lay exposed, from the scoffs and insults of a malicious world. FRIEND POET. FRIEND. A thousand yet remain That bloom with honours, or that teem with gain: These arts,-are they beneath-beyond thy care? Devote thy studies to the auspicious fair: Of truth divested, let thy tongue supply The hinted slander, and the whisper'd lie; All merit mock, all qualities depress, Save those that grace the' excelling patroness; Trophies to her on others' follies raise, And, heard with joy, by defamation praise: To this collect each faculty of face, And every feat perform of sly grimace; Let the grave sneer sarcastic speak thee shrewd, The smutty joke ridiculously lewd; And the loud laugh, through all its changes rung, Applaud the' abortive sallies of her tongue: Enroll’d a member in the sacred list, Soon shalt thou sharp, in company, at whist; Her midnight rites and revels regulate,' POET. But say, a what recompence for all this waste Of honour, truth, attention, time, and taste ? To shine confess'd, her zany and her tool, And fall by what I rose, low ridicule ? Again shail Handel raise his laurel'd brow, Again shall harmony with rapture glow! The spells dissolve, the combination breaks; And Punch, no longer Frasi's rival, squeaks. Lo, Russel? falls a sacrifice to whim, And starts amazed, in Newgate, from his dream; With trembling hands implores their promised aid; And sees their favour like a vision fade; Is this, ye faithless syrens—this the joy. To which your smiles the unwary wretch decoy! Naked and shackled, on the pavement prone, His mangled flesh devouring from the bone; Rage in his heart, distraction in his eye! Behold, inhuman hags! your minion lie! Behold his gay career to ruin run, By you seduced, abandoned, and undone! Rather in garret pent," secure from harm, My Muse with murders shall the town alarm; a 1 These are mysteries performed, like those of the Dea Bona, by females only: consequently it cannot be expected that we should here explain them: we have, notwithstanding, found means to learn some anecdotes concerning them. ? A famous mimic and singer. The person here meant, by the qualifications above described, had insinuated himself into the confidence of certain ladies of quality, who engaged him to set up a puppet-show, in opposition to the oratorios of Handel, against whom they were unreasonably prejudiced. But, the town not seconding the capricious undertaking, they deserted their manager, whom they had promised to support, and let him sink under the expense they had entailed upon him: he was accordingly thrown into prison, where his disappointment got the better of his reason, and he remained in all the ecstasy of despair; till at last, his genercus patronesses, after much solicitation, were prevailed upon to collect five pounds, on the payment of which he was admitted into Bedlam, where he continued berest of his understanding, and died in the utmost misery. 3 These are the dreams and fictions of Grub-street, with which the good people of this metropolis are daily alarmed and entertained. Or plunge in politics with patriot zeal, FRIEND. a 'Tis well;-enjcy that petulance of style, POET. What! join the crew that pilfer one another, FRIEND. Or if thy soul can brook the gilded curse, POET. Why not a purse ? FRIEND. a How ? dread a mumbling bear without a claw ? POET. This alludes to the fable of the viper and file, applicable to all thë unsuccessful efforts of malice and envy. K My soul serene, amidst the storms shall reign, FRIEND. Too coy to flatter, and too proud to serve, POET. No; thanks to discord, war shall be my friend; rage lend FRIEND. Renown! ay, do—unkennel the whole pack POET. If such be life, its wretches I deplore, REPROOF. A Satire. PCET-FRIEND POET. FRIEND. POET. If you; what title justifies the claim ? 1 This line relates to the behaviour of a general on a certain occasion, who discovered an extreme passion for the cool shade during the heat of the day: the Hanoverian general, in the battle of Dettingen. |