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The Captain's honeft, Sirs, and that's enough,
Tho' his foul's bullet, and his body buff.
He fpits fore-right; his haughty chest before,
Like batt'ring rams, beats open ev'ry door: 265
And with a face as red, and as awry,
As Herod's hang-dogs in old Tapestry,
Scarecrow to boys, the breeding woman's curse,
Has yet a strange ambition to look worse;
Confounds the civil, keeps the rude in awe, 270
Jefts like a licens'd fool, commands like law.
Frighted, I quit the room, but leave it fo

As men from Jayls to execution go;
For hung with deadly fins I see the wall,
And lin❜d with Giants deadlier than 'em all: 275
Each man an Afkapart, of strength to toss
For Quoits, both Temple-bar and Charing-crofs.
Scar'd at the grizly forms, I fweat, I fly,
And shake all o'er, like a discover'd spy.

279

Courts are too much for wits fo weak as mine: Charge them with Heav'n's Artill'ry, bold Divine! From fuch alone the Great rebukes endure, Whofe Satire's facred, and whose rage fecure: 'Tis mine to wash a few light stains, but theirs To deluge fin, and drown a Court in tears. 285 Howe'er what's now Apocrypha, my Wit,

In time to come, may pass for Holy Writ.

NOTES.

VER. 274. For bung with dead'y fins] The Room hung with old Tapestry, reprefenting the feven deadly fins.

P.

*

VOL. IV.

U

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EPILOGUE

TO THE

SATIRES.

In Two DIALOGUE S.

Written in MDCCXXXVIII.

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