Billeder på siden
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors]

Look upon Baffet, you who Reason boast;
And fee if Reafon must not there be loft.

SMILINDA.

What more than marble must that heart compofe,
Can hearken coldly to my SHARPER's Vows?
Then, when he trembles! when his blushes rife!
When awful Love feems melting in his eyes!
With eager beats his Mechlin Cravat moves:
He Loves,-I whisper to myself, He Loves!
Such unfeign'd Passion in his Looks appears,
I lose all Mem❜ry of my former Fears;
My panting heart confeffes all his charms,
I yield at once, and fink into his arms:
Think of that moment, you who Prudence boast;
For fuch a moment, Prudence well were loft.

CARDELIA.

At the Groom-Porter's, batter'd Bullies play,
Some DUKES at Mary-Bone bowl Time away.
But who the Bowl, or ratt'ling Dice compares
To Baffet's heavenly Joys, and pleafing Cares?

85

SMILINDA.

Soft SIMPLICETTA doats upon a Beau;
PRUDINA likes a Man, and laughs at Show.
Their feveral
graces in my SHARPER meet;
Strong as the Footman, as the Mafter sweet.

99

8

95

100

105

LOVET.

LOVET.

Cease your contention, which has been too long;
I grow impatient, and the Tea's too strong.
Attend, and yield to what I now decide;
The Equipage fhall grace SMILINDA's Side;
The Snuff-Box to CARDELIA I decree,
Now leave complaining, and begin your Tea.

110

GRAY wrote a Quaker's Eclogue, and Swift a Footman's Eclogue; and faid to Pope, "I think the Paftoral Ridicule is not exhausted; what think you of a Newgate Paftoral, among the whores and thieves there?" When Lady M. W. Montague would fometimes fhew a copy of her verses to Pope, and he would make fome little alterations, "No," faid fhe, " Pope, no touching! for then, whatever is good for any thing will pafs for yours, and the reft for mine."

[ocr errors]

VERBATIM FROM BOILEAU.

UN JOUR DIT UN AUTEUR, etc.

O

NCE (fays an Author, where I need not say) Two Trav❜lers found an Oyster in their way; Both fierce, both hungry; the dispute grew strong, While Scale in hand Dame Justice past along. Before her each with clamour pleads the Laws, Explain'd the matter, and would win the cause. Dame Justice weighing long the doubtful Right, Takes, opens, fwallows it, before their fight. The cause of ftrife remov'd so rarely well, There take (fays Justice) take ye each a Shell. We thrive at Westminster on Fools like you: 'Twas a fat Oyster-Live in peace-Adieu.

IT will be no unufeful or unpleafing amufement to compare this tranflation with the original:

"Un jour, dit un Auteur, n'importe en quel chapitre,
Deux voyageurs à jeun rencontrerent une huître,
Tous deux la conteftoient, lorfque dans leur chemin,
La justice paffa, la balance à la main.
Devant elle à grand bruit ils expliquent la chose.
Tous deux avec depens veulent gagner leur cause.
La juftice pefant ce droit litigieux,
Demande l'huître, l'ouvre, & l'avale à leur yeux,
Et par ce bel arrest terminant la bataille :

Tenez voilà, dit elle, à chacun une écaille.
Des fottifes d'autrui, nous vivons au palais;

Meffieurs, l'huître étoit bonne. Adieu, Vivez en paix."

In the fifth, fixth, feventh, ninth, and twelfth verses, Pope is inferior to the original.

ANSWER TO THE FOLLOWING QUESTION OF MRS. HOW.

WHA

HAT IS PRUDERY?

'Tis a Beldam,

Seen with Wit and Beauty seldom. 'Tis a fear that starts at shadows; 'Tis, (no, 'tis'n't) like Mifs Meadows. 'Tis a Virgin hard of Feature, Old, and void of all good-nature; Lean and fretful; would seem wise; Yet plays the fool before the dies. 'Tis an ugly envious Shrew, That rails at dear Lepell and You.

AMONG thefe fmaller poems of our author, the following couplet used to be printed, on a dog's collar, which he gave to the Prince of Wales:

"I am his Highness's dog at Kew;

Pray tell me, Sir, whose dog are you?"

Which was taken from Sir William Temple's Mifcellanies, vol. iii. p. 323. faid to be the answer of Mr. Grantham's Fool to one who afked him whofe fool he was.

OCCASIONED BY SOME VERSES OF HIS GRACE
THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

MUSE, 'tis enough: at length thy labour ends,

And thou shalt live, for Buckingham commends.
Let Crowds of Critics now my Verse affail,
Let Dennis write, and nameless numbers rail:
This more than pays whole years of thankless pain,
Time, health, and fortune, are not loft in vain.
Sheffield approves, confenting Phoebus bends,
And I and Malice from this hour are friends.

NOTES.

VER. 2. Buckingham commends.] It would be difficult to add any thing to the finished portrait of this nobleman, given by Mr. Walpole in his Anecdotes, vol. ii. p. 118.

VER. 5 and 6. This more] A very groundless complaint! Few authors, during their lives, were more refpected and revered than himself by perfons of rank and judges of merit.

[ocr errors]
« ForrigeFortsæt »