Obrazy na stronie


Tolletis, fabri. lectus genialis in aula eft ?

Nil ait effe prius, melius nil coelibe vita:

! Si non eft, jurat bene folis effe maritis.

Quo teneam vultus mutantem Protea nodo ?

Quid pauper? ride: mutat coenacula, lectos,


Balnea, tonfores; conducto navigio aeque

Naufeat, ac locuples quem ducit priva triremis.

9 Si curatus inaequali tonfore capillos

Occurro; rides. fi forte fubucula pexae

Trita fubeft tunicae, vel fi toga diffidet impar;

Rides. quid, mea Cum pugnat fententia fecum
Quod petiit, fpernit; repetit quod nuper omifit;

• Aeftuat, et vitae difconvenit ordine toto;



VER. 155. They change their weekly Barber, etc.] Thefe fix lines much more fpirited than the Original. In that, the inconftancy of temper in the common people is fati

"Away, away! take all your scaffolds down, "For Snug's the word: My dear! we'll live in Town.” At am'rous Flavio is the * ftocken thrown?

That very night he longs to lie alone.

1 The Fool whose Wife elopes fome thrice a quarter, For matrimonial folace dies a martyr.


Did ever Proteus, Merlin, any witch,

Transform themfelves fo ftrangely as the Rich?


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Well, but the " Poor-The Poor have the fame itch;
They change their weekly Barber, weekly News,
Prefer a new Japanner to their shoes,
Discharge their Garrets, move their beds, and run
(They know not whither) in a Chaise and one;
They hire their sculler, and when once aboard,
Grow fick, and damn the climate-like a Lord. 160
You laugh, half Beau half Sloven if I ftand,

My wig all powder, and all fnuff my band;
You laugh, if coat and breeches ftrangely vary,
White gloves, and linen worthy Lady Mary!

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But when no Prelate's Lawn with hair-fhirt lin❜d,
Is half fo incoherent as my Mind,

When (each opinion with the next at strife,
One s ebb and flow of follies all my life)



rized only in a fimple exposure of the cafe. Here the tidicule on the folly is heightened by a ridiculous representation of each circumftance that is the object of it.

Diruit, aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis ?

▾ Infanire putas folennia me, neque rides,

Nec medici credis, nec curatoris egere

A praetore dati; rerum

* tutela mearum

Cum fis, et prave fectum ftomacheris ob unguem,

De te pendentis, te refpicientis amici.


Ad fummam, fapiens uno minor eft Jove, dives,


z Liber, honoratus, pulcher, rex denique regum;


Praecipue fanus, nifi cum pituita molesta est.

I' plant, root up; 1 build, and then confound;
Turn round to fquare, and fquare again to round;
▾ You never change one muscle of your face,
You think this Madness but a common cafe,
Nor once to Chanc'ry, nor to Hale apply;
Yet hang your lip, to fee a Seam awry!
Careless how ill I with myself agree,
Kind to my drefs, my figure, not to Me.



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Is this my * Guide, Philofopher, and Friend?
This, he who loves me, and who ought to mend?
Who ought to make me (what he can, or none,)
That Man divine whom Wisdom calls her own; 180
Great without Title, without Fortune bless'd;

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Rich ev'n when plunder'd, honour'd while opprefs'd;



Lov'd without youth, and follow'd without pow'r;
At home, tho' exil'd; free, tho' in the Tower;
In short, that reasʼning, high, immortal Thing, 185
Juft lefs than Jove, and much above a King,



Nay, half in heav'n— except (what's mighty odd) A Fit of Vapours clouds this Demy-God.

* H

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