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Soon as the found her errour from the word, Her colour and her temper were restor❜d: With joy the rose to clasp him in her arms, But Cephalus the ruftling noise alarms; Some beaft, he thinks, he in the bushes hears, And ftraight his arrows and his bow prepares. Hold! hold! unhappy youth!—I call in vain; With thy own hand thou haft thy Procris flain. 865 "Me,me,"she cries," thou'st wounded with thydart! "But Cephalus was wont to wound this heart: "Yet lighter on my afhes earth will lie,

"Since, tho' untimely, I unrivall'd die.

"Come, clofe with thy dear hand my eyes in death, "Jealous of Air, to Air I yield my breath."

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Close to his heavy heart her cheek he laid,
And wash'd with ftreaming tears the wound he made;
At length the fprings of life their currents leave,
And her laft gafp her husband's lips receive.

Now to pursue our voyage we must provide,

Till fafe to port our weary bark we guide.
You may expect, perhaps, I now fhould teach
What rules to treats and entertainments reach.
Come not the firft invited to a feaft;

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Rather come laft, as a more grateful guest;
For that of which we fear to be depriv'd,
Meets with the fureft welcome when arriv'd.
Befides, complexions of a coarfer kind
From candlelight no small advantage find.

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During the time you eat obferve fome grace,
Nor let your unwip'd hands befmear your face;
Not yet too fqueamishly your meat avoid,

Left we fufpect you were in private cloy'd.
Of all extremes in either kind beware,
And ftill before your belly's full forbear.
No glutton nymph, however fair, can wound,
Tho' more than Helen the in charms abound.
Kown I think of wine the mod'rate ufe
More fuits the fex, and fooner finds excufe;
It warms the blood, adds luftre to the eyes,
And Wine and Love have always been allies:
Lut carefully from all intemp`rance keep,
Nor drink till you see double, lifp, or fleep;

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For in fuch fleeps brutalities are done,

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Which tho' you loath you have no pow'r to shun.

And now th' inftructed nymph, from table led, Should next be taught how to behave in bed: but modefty forbids: nor more my Mufe

With weary wings the labour'd flight pursues; 905
Her purple fwans unyok'd, the chariot leave,
And needful reft (their journey done) receive.
Thus with impartial care my art I show,

And equal arms on either sex bestow;

While men and maids, who by my rules improve, Ovid muft own their mafter is in love.

SATIRE XI. OF JUVENAL.

The Argument.

THE defign of this Satire, is to expofe and reprehend all manner of in temperance and debauchery, but more particularly that exorbitant luxury ufed by the Romans in their feafting. The poet draws the occafion from an invitation which he here makes to his friend to dine with him; very artfully preparing him, with what he was to expect from his treat, by beginning the Satire with a particular invective against the vanity and folly of fome perfons who, having but mean fortunes in the world, attempted to live up to the height of men of great eftates and quality. He fhows us the miferable end of fuch spendthrifts and gluttons, with the manner and courfes which they took to bring themfelves to it; advifing men to live within bounds, and to proportion their inclinations to the extent of their fortune. He gives his friend a bill of fare of the entertainment he has provided for him, and from thence he takes occafion to reflect upon the temperance and frugality of the greatest men in former ages, to which he oppofes the riot and intemperance of the prefent; attributing to the latter a visible remiffness in the care of Heaven over the Roman ftate. He inftances fome lewd practices at their feafts, and by the bye touches the nobility, with making vice and debauchery confifl with their principal pleafures. He concludes with a repeated invitation to his friend, adviang him (in one particular fomewhat freely) to a neglect of all cares and difquiets for the prefent, and a moderate ufc of pleasures for the future.

Ir noble Atticus make fplendid feafts,

And with expenfive food indulge his guests,
His wealth and quality fupport the treat;
Nor is it luxury in him, but ftate:

But when poor Rutilus fpends all he's worth,
In hopes of fetting one good dinner forth,
'Tis downright madnefs; for what greater jets
Than begging gluttons, or than beggars' feasts?

But Rutilus is now notorious grown,

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And proves the common theme of all the town. 10
A man in his full tide of youthful blood,
Able for arms, and for his country's good,
Urg'd by no pow'r, restrain'd by no advice,
But following his own inglorious choice,
'Mongft common fencers practises the trade,
That end debafing for which arms were made;
Arms, which to man ne'er-dying fame afford,
But his difgrace is owing to his sword.
Many there are of the fame wretched kind,
Whom their despairing creditors may find
Lurking in fhambles, where with borrow'd coin
They buy choice meats, and in cheap plenty dine;
Such whofe fole blifs is eating; who can give
But that one brutal reason why they live:
And yet, what's more ridiculous, of these
The pooreft wretch is still most hard to please;
And he whose thin tranfparent rags declare
How much his tatter'd fortune wants repair,
Would ranfack ev'ry element for choice
Of ev'ry fish and fowl at any price:

If brought from far it very dear has cost,
It has a flavour then which pleases moft,
And he devours it with a greater guft.

In riot thus, while money lafts, he lives,
And that exhausted, still new pledges gives,
Till forc'd of mere neceffity to eat,
He comes to pawn his dish to buy his meat.

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Nothing of filver or of gold he fpares,
Not what his mother's facred image bears;
The broken relick he with speed devours,
As he would all the rest of 's ancestors,
If wrought in gold, or if, expos'd to fale,
They'd pay the price of one luxurious meal.
Thus certain ruin treads upon his heels,
The ftings of hunger foon, and want, he feels;
And thus is he reduc'd at length to ferve
Fencers for miferable fcraps, or farve.

Imagine now you fee a plenteous feaft,

The question is, at whofe expenfe 't is dreft?.
In great Ventidius we the bounty prize,
In Rutilus the vanity defpife.

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Strange ignorance! that the fame man who knows
How far yond' mount above this molehill fhows,
Should not perceive a difference as great
Between small incomes and a vast estate!

From heav'n to mortals, fure. that rule was fent,
Of "Know thyself," and by fome god was meant
To be our never-erring pilot here,

Thro' all the various courfes which we fteer.
Therfites, tho' the most presumpt'ous Greek,
Yet durft not for Achilles' armour speak,
When scarce Ulyffes had a good pretence,
With all th' advantage of his eloquence.
Whoe'er attempts weak caufes to fupport,
Ought to be very fure he's able for 't,

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