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And lies to ev'ry Lord in ev'ry thing,
Like a King's Favourite—or like a King.
These are the talents that adorn them all,
From wicked Waters ev'n to godly
Not more of Simony beneath black gowns,
Nor more of bastardy in heirs to Crowns.
In shillings and in pence at first they deal;
And steal so little, few perceive they steal;
Till, like the Sea, they compass all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand :
And when rank Widows purchase luscious nights,
Or when a Duke to Jansen punts at White's,
Or City-heir in mortgage melts away;
Satan himself feels far less joy than they.
Piecemeal they win this acre first, then that,
Glean on, and gather up the whole estate.
Then strongly fencing ill-got wealth by law,
Indentures, Cov'nants, Articles they draw,
Large as the fields themselves, and larger far
Than Civil Codes, with all their Glosses, are;
So vast; our new Divines, we must confess,
Are Fathers the Church for writing less.
But let them write for you, each rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, ses heires;
No Commentator can more slily pass
O'er a learn'd, unintelligible place;
Or, in quotation, shrewd Divines leave out
Those words, that would against them clear the doubt.
So Luther thought the Pater-noster longo,
When doom'do to say his beads and Even-song;
But having cast his cowl, and left those laws,
Adds to Christ's pray’r, the Pow'r and Glory clause.
The lands are bought; but where are to be found
Those ancient woods, that shaded all the ground?
We see no new-built palaces aspire,
No kitchens emulate the vestal fire.
Where are those troops of Poor, that throng'd of yore
The good old landlord's hospitable door?
Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes
Some beasts were kill'd, tho' not whole hecatombs;
That both extremes were banish'd from their walls,
Carthusian fasts, and fulsome Bacchanals;
And all mankind might that just Mean observe,
In which none e'er could surfeit, none could starve.
These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow;
But oh! these works are not in fashion now:
? [Carruthers suggests the name of Paul Ben- logue of rare books, one article of which is infield, a financing M.P., for this hiatus.)
titled, M. Lutherus de abbreviatione Orationis 2 [Pointless here; but not so in Donne.] Dominicæ, alluding to Luther's omission of the
3 About this time of his life Dr Donne had a [spurious] concluding Doxology in his two Catestrong propensity to Popery, which appears from chisms; which shews the poet was fond of a several strokes in these satires. We find amongst joke. Warburton. his works, a short satirical thing called a Cata- 4 [i. e. as an Augustine monk.]
Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare,
Extremely fine, but what no man will wear.
Thus much I've said, I trust, without offence;
Let no Court Sycophant pervert my sense,
Nor sly informer watch these words to draw
Within the reach of Treason, or the Law.
ELL, if it be my time to quit the stage,
Adieu to all the follies of the age !
I die in charity with fool and knave,
Secure of peace at least beyond the grave.
I've had my Purgatory here betimes,
And paid for all my satires, all my rhymes.
The Poet's hell, its tortures, fiends, and flames,
To this were trifles, toys and empty names.
With foolish pride my heart was never fir'd,.
Nor the vain itch t'admire, or be admir'd;
I hop'd for no commission from his Grace;
bought no benefice, I begg'd no place;
Had no new verses, nor new suit to show;
Yet went to Court!-the Dev'l would have it so.
But, as the Fool that in reforming days
Would go to Mass in jest (as story says)
Could not but think, to pay his fine was odd,
Since 'twas no form'd design of serving God;
So was I punish'd, as if full as proud
As prone to ill, as negligent of good,
As deep in debt, without a thought to pay,
As vain, as idle, and as false, as they
Who live at Court, for going once that way!
Scarce was I enter'd, when, behold! there
A thing which Adam had been pos'd to name;
Noah had refus'd it lodging in his Ark,
Where all the Race of Reptiles might embark:
A verier monster, that on Afric's shore
The sun e'er got, or slimy Nilus bore,
Or Sloanel or Woodward's wondrous shelves contain,
Nay, all that lying Travellers can feign.
The watch would hardly let him pass at noon,
At night, would swear him dropt out of the Moon,
One whom the mob, when next we find or make
A popish plot, shall for a Jesuit take,
And the wise Justice starting from his chair
Cry: “By your Priesthood tell me what you are?”
Such was the wight; th' apparel on his back
Tho' coarse, was rev'rend, and tho' bare, was black:
The suit, if by the fashion one might guess,
Was velvet in the youth of good Queen Bess,
But mere tuff-taffety what now remain'd;
So Time, that changes all things, had ordain'd!
Our sons shall see it leisurely decay,
First turn plain rash, then vanish quite away.
This thing has travell’d, speaks each language too,
And knows what's fit for every state to do;
Of whose best phrase and courtly accent join'd,
He forms one tongue, exotic and refin’d,
Talkers I've learn'd to bear; Motteux? I knew,
Henley? himself I've heard, and Budgel3 too.
The Doctor's Wormwood style, the Hash of tongues
A Pedant makes, the storm of Gonson's 4 lungs,
The whole Artill’ry of the terms of War,
And (all those plagues in one) the bawling Bar:
These I could bear; but not a rogue so civil,
: Whose tongue will compliment you to the devil.
A tongue, that can cheat widows,
Make Scots speak treason, cozen subtlest whores,
With royal Favourites in flatt'ry vie,
And Oldmixon and Burnet both out-lie5.
He spies me out, I whisper: “Gracious God!
What sin of mine could merit such a rod ?
That all the shot of dulness now must be
From this thy blunderbuss discharg'd on me!'
“Permit,” (he cries) “no stranger to your fame
"? To crave your sentiment, if —'s your name.
“What Speech esteem you most?” The King'sl,' said I.
“ But the best words?"-'0 Sir, the Dictionary.'
“ You miss my aim; I mean the most acute
“And perfect Speaker?”– Onslow?, past dispute.'
“But, Sir, of writers ?” “Swift, for closer style,
‘But Ho**y$ for a period of a mile.'
Why yes, 'tis granted, these indeed may pass :
“Good common linguists, and so Panurge 9 was;
“Nay troth th' Apostles (tho' perhaps too rough)
“ Had once a pretty gift of Tongues enough:
“ Yet these were all poor Gentlemen! dare
“Affirm, 'twas Travel made them what they were 10.”
Thus others' talents having nicely shown,
He came by sure transition to his own:
[Motteux. V. Dunciad, 11. V. 412.) members of which had already in two instances
(Henley, V. Dunciad, 11. v. 189 ff.] filled the chair, was elected Speaker in 1728, and 3 (Budgel. V. Dunciad, 11. v. 397.]
occupied the post for 33 years, to the satisfaction 4 (Sir John Gonson, whose portrait, according of both parties in the House.] to Bowles, is introduced into Hogarth's Harlot's [Bishop Hoadley, here alluded to sarcastiProgress. v. infra, v. 256.)
Till I cry'd out: 'You prove yourself so able,
Pity! you was not Druggerman? at Babel;
'For had they found a linguist half so good,
'I make no question but the Tow'r had stood.'
“Obliging Sir! for Courts you sure were made:
“Why then for ever bury'd in the shade?
Spirits like you, should see and should be seen,
“The King would smile on you—at least the Queen."
'Ah gentle Sir! you Courtiers so cajole us-
90 "But Tully has it, Nunquam minus solus 2:
And as for Courts, forgive me, if I say
'No lessons now are taught the Spartan way:
'Tho' in his pictures Lust be full display'd,
'Few are the Converts Aretine3 has made;
* And tho' the Court show Vice exceeding clear,
'None should, by my advice, learn Virtue there.'
At this entranc'd, he lifts his hands and eyes,
Squeaks like a high-stretch'd lutestring, and replies:
“Oh'tis the sweetest of all earthly things
"To gaze on Princes, and to talk of Kings!"
* Then, happy Man who shows the Tombs!' said I,
*He dwells amidst the royal Family;
'He ev'ry day, from King to King can walk,
Of all our Harries, all our Edwards talk“,
' And get by speaking truth of_monarchs dead,
What few can of the living, Ease and Bread.'
“Lord, Sir, a mere Mechanic! strangely low,
“And coarse of phrase,—your English all are so.'
"How elegant your Frenchmen?" Mine, d’ye mean?
'I have but one, I hope the fellow's clean.'
“Oh! Sir, politely so! nay, let me die,
“Your only wearing is your Padua-soy.'
'Not, Sir, my only, I have better still,
• And this you see is but my dishabille
Wild to get loose, his Patience I provoke,
Mistake, confound, object at all he spoke.
But as coarse iron, sharpen’d, mangles more,
And itch most hurts when anger'd to a sore;
So when you plague a fool, 'tis still the curse,
You only make the matter worse and worse.
He past it o'er; affects an easy smile
At all my peevishness, and turns his style.
He asks, “What News?" I tell him of new Plays,
New Eunuchs, Harlequins, and Operas.
He hears, and as a Still with simples in it
Between each drop it gives, stays half a minute,
Loth to enrich me with too quick replies,
By little and by little, drops his lies. ? [Dragoman, i.e. interpreter.)
Mere household trash! of birth-nights, balls, and shows,
More than ten Holinsheds, or Halls, or Stowes ?.
When the Queen frown'd, or smil'd, he knows; and what
A subtle Minister may make of that;
Who sins with whom: who got his Pension rug?,
Or quicken'd a Reversion by a drug;
Whose place is quarter'd out, three parts in four,
And whether to a Bishop, or a Whore;
Who having lost his credit, pawn'd his rent,
Is therefore fit to have a Government;
Who in the secret, deals in Stocks secure,
And cheats th’ unknowing Widow and the Poor;
Who makes a Trust or Charity a Job,
And gets an Act of Parliament to rob;
Why Turnpikes rise, and now no Cit nor clown
Can gratis see the country, or the town;
Shortly no lad shall chuck, or lady vole,
But some excising Courtier will have toll.
He tells what strumpet places sells for life,
What 'Squire his lands, what citizen his Wife:
And last® (which proves him wiser still than all)
What Lady's face is not a whited wall.
As one of Woodward's patients“, sick, and sore,
I puke, I nauseate, -yet he thrusts in more:
Trims Europe's balance, tops the statesman's parts,
And talks Gazettes and Post-boys 6 o'er by heart.
Like a big wife at sight of loathsome meat
Ready to cast, I yawn, I sigh, and sweat.
Then as a licens'd spy, whom nothing can
Silence or hurt, he libels the great Man;
Swears ev'ry place entails for years to come,
In sure succession to the day of doom ;
He names the price for ev'ry office paid,
And says our wars thrive ill, because delay'd;
Nay hints, 'tis by connivance of the Court,
That Spain robson, and Dunkirk's? still a Port.
Not more amazement seiz'd on Circe's guests,
To see themselves fall endlong into beasts,
Thàn mine, to find a subject staid and wise
Already half turn'd traitor by surprise.
I felt th' infection slide from him to me,
As in the pox, some give it to get free;
And quick to swallow me, methought I saw
One of our Giant Statutes ope its jaw.
In that nice moment, as another Lie
Stood just a-tilt, the Minister came by.
? (Tudor chroniclers.)
5 This originally stood thus: 2 (Quære: Snug?)
‘Shows Poland's int'rest, takes the Primate's 3 [i.e. no boy shall play at chuck-farthing; no part.'
Warton. lady win the vole (all the tricks) at cards.)
[a newspaper.] * As one of Woodward's patients,] Alluding 7. [Pope could apply to the difficulties with to the effects of his use of oils in bilious disorders. Spain which brought about war in 1739 the refer
Warburton. ence in Donne to Spaniards and Dunkirkers.']