What push'd poor E-s on th' imperial whore? "Twas but to be where CHARLES had been before. The fatal steel unjustly was apply'd,

When not his lust offended, but his pride:

Too hard a penance for defeated sin,
Himself shut out, and Jacob Hall* let in.

Suppose that honest part that rules us all, Should rise, and say-" Sir Robert! or Sir Paul! Did I demand, in my most vig'rous hour, A thing descended from the conqueror? Or when my pulse beat highest, ask for any Such nicety as Lady or Lord Fanny ?"

What would you answer? could you have the face, When the poor suff'rer humbly mourn'd his case, "You weep the favours of her GRACE?"

To cry,

Hath not indulgent nature spread a feast,
And giv'n enough for man, enough for beast?
But man corrupt, perverse in all his ways,
In search of vanities from nature strays:
Yea, tho' the blessing's more than he can use,
Shuns the permitted, the forbid pursues !

Weigh well the cause from whence these evils spring,
'Tis in thyself, and not in God's good thing:
Then, lest repentance punish such a life,
Never, ah! never! kiss thy neighbour's wife.

NOTES.

*The Dutchess of Cleveland was said to have been in love with Jacob Hall, the famous rope-dancer, and she gave him a salary. In these lines Pope alludes to this connexion.

A

Nec magis huic, inter niveos viridesque lapillos Sit licet, o Cerinthe, tuo tenerum est femur, aut crus Rectius atque etiam melius persæpe togatæ est. Adde huc, quod mercem sine fucis gestat; aperte Quod venale habet, ostendit; neque si quid honesti est Jactat habetque palam, quærit quo turpia celet.

Regibus hic mos est, ubi equos mercantur, opertos Inspiciunt: ne si facies, ut sæpe, decorai Molli fulta pede est; emtorem ducat hiantem, Quod pulcræ clunes, breve quod caput, ardua cervix. Hoc illi recte. Tu corporis optima Lyncei Contemplare oculis; Hypsæa cæcior, illa

Quæ mala sunt, spectas, O crus, O brachia! verum

Depugis, nasuta, brevi latere, ac pede longo est.

Matronæ, præter faciem, nil cernere possis ;
Cætera, ni Catia est, demissa veste tegentis.
Si interdicta petes, vallo circumdata, (nam te
Hoc facit insanum) multæ tibi tum officient res;
Custodes, lectica, ciniflones, parasitæ ;,
Ad talos stola demissa, et circumdata palla:
Plurima, quæ invideant pure apparere
tibi rem.
Altera nil obstat: Cois tibi pene videre est
Ut nudam; ne crure malo, ne sit pede turpi :
Metiri possis oculo latus. An tibi mavis
Insidias fieri, pretiumque avellier, ante
Quam mercem ostendi?

First, silks and diamonds veil no finer shape,
Or plumper thigh, than lurk in humble crape :
And secondly, how innocent a belle

Is she who shews what ware she has to sell ;
Not lady-like, displays a milk-white breast,
And hides in sacred sluttishness the rest.

Our ancient kings (and sure those kings were wise, Who judg'd themselves, and saw with their own eyes) A war-horse never for the service chose,

But ey'd him round, and stript off all the clothes ;
For well they knew, proud trappings serve to hide
A heavy chest, thick neck, or heavy side.
But fools are ready chaps, agog to buy,

Let but a comely fore-hand strike the eye:
No eagle sharper, every charm to find,
To all defects, T -y not so blind:

Goose-rump'd, hawk-nos'd, swan-footed, is my dear,
They'll praise her elbow, heel, or tip o' th' ear.

A lady's face is all you see undress'd;
(For none but Lady M shew'd the rest);
But if to charms more latent you pretend,
What lines encompass, and what works defend!
Dangers on dangers! obstacles by dozens!

Spies, guardians, guests, old women, aunts, and cozens.
Could you directly to her person go,

Stays will obstruct above, and hoops below,
And if the dame says yes, the dress says no.
Not thus at Needham's; your judicious eye
May measure there the breast, the hip, the thigh!
And will you run to perils, sword, and law,
All for a thing you ne'er so much as saw?

LEPOREM Venator ut alta

In nive sectetur, positum sic tangere nolit :

Cantat, et adponit, MEUS est amor huic similis, nam
Transvolat in medio posita, et fugientia captat.
Hiscine versiculis speras tibi posse dolores,
Atque æstus, curasque graves e pectore tolli?
Nonne, cupidinibus statuat natura modum quem,
Quid latura, sibi quid sit dolitura negatum,
Quærere plus prodest; et inane abscindere soldo?
Num, tibi cum fauces urit sitis, aurea quæris-
Pocula? num esuriens fastidis omnia præter
Pavonem rhombumque? tument tibi cum inguina,
num, si

Ancilla aut verna est præsto puer, impetus in quem
Continuo fiat, malis tentigine rumpi?

Non ego namque lemque."

"parabilem amo venerem, faci

ILLAM, post paulo, sed pluris, si exierit vir,

Gallis: hanc Philodemus ait sibi, quæ neque magno
Stet pretio ; nec cunctetur, cum est jussa, venire.
Candida rectaque sit; munda hactenus, ut neque
longa,

Nec magis alba velit, quam det natura, videri.
Hæc, ubi supposuit dextro corpus mihi lævum,
Ilia et Egeria est: do nomen quodlibet illi.
Nec vereor, ne, dum futuo, vir rure recurrat;
Janua frangatur; latret canis; undique magno
Pulsa domus strepitu resonet : ne pallida lecto

"The hare once seiz'd, the hunter heeds no more The little scut he so pursu'd before,

Love follows flying game (as Sucklyn) sings
And 'tis for that the wanton boy has wings."
Why let him sing-but when you're in the wrong,
Think
you to cure the mischief with a song?
Has nature set no bounds to wild desire?
No sense to guide, no reason to inquire,
What solid happiness, what empty pride?
And what is best indulg'd, or best deny'd?
If neither gems adorn, nor silver tip
The flowing bowl, will you not wet your lip?
When sharp with hunger, scorn you to be fed,
Except on Pea-Chicks, at the Bedford-head?
Or when a tight, neat girl, will serve the turn,
In errant pride continue stiff, and burn?
I'm a plain man, whose maxim is profest,
"The thing at hand is of all things the best."
But her who will, and then will not comply,
Whose word is If, Perhaps, and By-and-by,
Z――ds! let some eunuch or platonic take——
So B-t cries, philosopher and rake!
Who asks no more (right reasonable peer)
Than not to wait too long, nor pay too dear.
Give me a willing nymph! 'tis all I care,
Extremely clean, and tolerably fair,

Her shape her own, whatever shape she have,
And just that white and red which nature gave.
Her I transported touch, transported view!
And call her Angel! Goddess! M--ue!
No furious husband thunders at the door;
No barking dog, no household in a roar ;