Page images
[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]




P.SHUT, fhut the door, good John! fatigu'd I faid,”
Tye up the knocker, fay I'm fick, I'm dead,
The Dog-ftar rages! nay 'tis past a doubt,
All Bedlam, or Parnaffus, is let out:
Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,
They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
What walls can guard me, or what fhades can hide?
They pierce my thickets, thro' my Grot they glide,
By land, by water, they renew the charge,

They stop the chariot, and they board the barge. 10
No place is facred, nor the Church is free,

Ev'n Sunday fhines no Sabbath - day to me:


VER. 1. Shut, shut the door, good John!) John Searl, his old and faithful fervant: whom he has remembered, under that character, in his Will.


VER. 12. Ev'n Sunday [hines no Sabbath day to me.) The beauty of this line arifes from the figurative terms of the predi cate alluding to the fubject. A fecret, in elegant expreffion, which our Author often practised.


[ocr errors]

Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy to catch me, juft at Dinner - time.

Is there a Parfon, much_be-mus'd in beer, IS A maudlin Poetefs, a rhyming Peer,

A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's foul to cross,
Who pens a Stanza, when he should engross ?
Is there, who, lock'd from ink and paper, fcrawls
With defp'rate charcoal round his darken'd walls?
All fly to TwIT'NAM, and in humble ftrain
Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain.
Arthur, whofe giddy fon neglects the Laws,
Imputes to me and my damn'd works the caufe:
Poor Cornus fees his frantic wife elope,
And curfes Wit, and Poetry, and Pope.


Friend to my Life! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle fong) What Drop or Noftrum can this plague remove?


After v. 20. in the MS.

Is there a Bard in durance? turn them free,
With all their brandifh'd reams they run to me:
Is there a Prentice, having feen two plays,

Who would do fomething in his Semptress' praise
VER 29. in the Ift Ed.

Dear Doctor, tell me, is not this a curfe?

Say, is their anger, or their, friendship worse?

[ocr errors]



VER. 13. Mint.) A place to which infoivent debtors retired, to enjoy an illegal protection, which they were there fuffered to afford one another, from the perfecution of their creditors.

VER. 23. Arthur,) Arthur Moore, Efq.

Or which inuft end me, a Fool's wrath or love? 30 A dire dilemma! either way I'm fped.

If foes, they write, if friends, they read me dead. Seiz'd and ty'd down to judge, how wretched I? Who can't be filent, and who will not Tye;

To laugh, were want of goodness and of grace, 35
And to be grave, exceeds all Pow'r of face..
I fit with fad civility, I read


With honeft anguish, and an aching head;
And drop at laft, but in unwilling ears,
This faving counfel,,,Keep your piece nine years.,

Nine years! cries he, who high in Drury-lane, Lull'd by foft Zephyrs thro' the broken pane, Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before Term ends,, Oblig'd by hunger, and request of friends:


The piece, you think, is incorrect? why take it, 49. „I'm all fubmiffion, what you'd have it, make it.


Three things another's modest wishes bound, My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten pound.


VER, 33. Seix'd and ty'd down to judge,) Alluding to the frene in the Plain Dealer, where Oldfax gags, and ties down the Widow, to hear his well - pen'd stanzase

༥ རྩྭ ༥

VER. 38, honeft anguish,d i. e. undissembled.

Ibid. an aching head;) Alluding to the diforder he was then fo conftantly afflicted with.

VER. 43. Rhymnes ere he wakes,) A pleasant allufion to those words of Milton.

[merged small][ocr errors]


Pitholeon fends to me:,,You know his Grace, ,,I want a Patron; afk him for a Place.,,' Pitholeon libell'd me —,, but here's a letter ,,Inforins you, Sir, 'twas when he knew no better. : ,,Dare you refufe him? Curl invites to dine, ,,He'll write a Journal, or he'll turn Divine.,, Blefs me a packet. -,,'Tis a ftranger fues, 55 ,,A Virgin Tragedy, an Orphan Muse.,, If I diflike it,,,Furies, death and rage!,, If I approve, „Commend it to the Stage.,,. There (thank my ftars) my whole commiffion ends, The Play'rs and I are, luckily, no friends. Fir'd that the house reject him, 'Sdeath I'll print it, ,,And fhame the fools - Your int'reft, Sir, with Lintot.,, Lintot, dull rogue! will think your price too much: ,,Not, Sir, if you revise it, and retouch.,, All my demurs but double his attacks; At last he whispers, ,,Do; and we go fnacks.,, Glad of a quarrel, ftrait I clap the door, Sir, let me fee your works and you no more.




VER. 53. in the MS.

If you' refuse, he goes, as fates incline.
To plague Sir Robert, or to turn Divine.

VER. 60. in the former Edd.

Cibber and I are luckily no friends.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]



from a foolish Poet
Schol. in Horat. 1. i.

VER. 49. Pitholeon) The name taken
of Rhodes, who pretended much to Greek.
Dr. Bentley pretends, that this Pitholeon libelled Cæfar alfo. See
notes on lor. Sat. 10. 1. i.


[merged small][ocr errors]

'Tis fung, when Midas Ears began to fpring, (Midas, a facred person and a King) His very Minifter who fpy'd them first,

(Some fy his Queen) was forc'd to speak, or burst.
And is not mine, my friend, a forer cafe,
When ev'ry coxcomb perks them in my face?
A. Good friend forbear! you deal in dang'rous things.
I'd never name Queens, Minifters, or Kings; 76
Keep close to Ears, and those let affes prick,"
'Tis nothing P. Nothing? if they bite and kick?
Out with it, DUNCIAD! let the fecret pass,"
That fecret to each fool, that he's an Afs:
The truth once told (and wherefore fhould we lie?)
The queen of Midas flept, and fo may 1.



You think this cruel? take it for a rule, J". No creature finarts fo little as a fool. Let peals of laughter, Codrus! round thee break, 85 Thou unconcern'd can't hear the mighty crack : Pit, box, and gall'ry in convulfions hurl'd,


VER. 69. 'Tis sung, when Midas &c.) The Poet mean fung by Perfius; and the words alluded to are,


Vidi, vidi ipfe, Libelle

Auriculas - Alini Mida Rex habet.

The transition is fine but obfcure: for he has here imitated the manner of that myfterious writer, as well as taken up his image. Our Author had been hitherto complaining of the folly and importunity of indigent Scriblers; he now infinuates he fuffered as much of both, from Poetafters of Quality! an ai

mi VER. 72. Queen) The story is told, by fome, of his Barber, bur by Chancer of his Queen. ^> See Wife of Bath's Tale in Dryden's Fables.. PAR VER. 8o. That fecret to each fool, that he's an Afs:) i, e. that his ears (his marks of folly) are visible.


« EelmineJätka »