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There, where no Passion, Pride, or Shame transport,
P. Good Heaven forbid, that I should blast their glory,
115 Swear like a Lord, or Rich outwhore a Duke? A Favourite's Porter with his Master vie, Be brib'd as often, and as often lie ? Shall Ward draw Contracts with a Statesman's fkill? Or Japhet pocket, like his Grace, a Will? Is it for Bond, or Peter, (paltry things) To pay their Debts, or keep their Faith, like Kings?
'VARIATION. Ver. 112. in some editions,
Who starves a Mother
If Blount dispatch'd himself, he play'd the man,
Let modeft Foster, if he will, excell Ten Metropolitans in preaching well; A simple Quaker, or a Quaker's Wife, Outdo Landaffe in Doctrine, -yea in Life: Let humble Allen, with an aukward Shame, 135 Do good by stealth, and blush to find it Fame,
choose the high or low Degree, 'Tis just alike to Virtue, and to me; Dwell in a Monk, or light upon a King, She's still the fame belov'd, contented thing.
140 Vice is undone, if she forgets her Birth, And stoops from Angels to the dregs of Earth : But 'tis the Fall degrades her to a Whore ; Let Greatness own her, and she's mean no more, Her Birth, her Beauty, Crowds and Courts confess, Chaste Matrons praise her, and grave Bishops bless; In golden Chains the willing World she draws, And hers the Gospel is, and hers the Laws, Mounts the Tribunal, lifts her scarlet head, And sees pale Virtue carted in her stead.
150 Lo! at the wheels of her triumphal Car, Old England's Genius, rough with many a Scar,
Dragg’d in the dust! his arms hang idly round,
1.70 Yet may this Verse (if such a Verse remain) Show there was one who held it in disdain.
I Sall a Libel-Paxton (Sir) will fay.
it may ;
And for that very cause I print to-day.
5 Vice with such Giant-strides com
omes on amain,
F. Yet none but you by name the guilty lash;
P. How, Sir! not damn the Sharper, but the Dice?
Ye Tradesmen, vile, in Army, Court, or Hall!
Who starv'd a Sister, who foreswore a Debt,
F. You do.
low, P. I fain would please you, if I knew with what; Tell me, which Knave is lawful Game, which not? Must great Offenders, once escap'd the Crown, Like Royal Harts, be never more run down? Admit your Law to spare the Knight requires ?
30 As Beasts of Nature may we hunt the Squires ? Suppose I censure--you know what I mean To fave a Bishop, may I name a Dean?
F. A Dean, Sir ? no; his Fortune is not made, You hurt a man that's rising in the Trade.
35 P. If not the Tradesman who set up to-day, Much less the 'Prentice who to-morrow may. Down, down, proud Satire ! though a Realm be spoild, Arraign no mightier Thief than Wretched Wild; Or, if a Court or Country's made a job,
40 Go drench a Pickpocket, and join the Mob.
But, Sir, I beg you (for the Love of Vice !) The matter 's weighty, pray consider twice ; Have
less pity for the needy Cheat, The poor and friendless Villain, than the Great ?
45 Alas! the small Discredit of a Bribe Scarce hurts the Lawyer, but undoes the Scribe,