Bless me! a packet.---“ 'Tis a stranger sues,55
« A Virgin Tragedy, an Orphan Muse."
If I dislike it, Furies, death and rage !"
If I approve, “ Commend it to the Stage."
There (thank my stars) my whole commission ends,
The Play’rs and I are, luckily, no friends. 60
Fir’d that the house reject him, “ 'Sdeath I'll print it,
“ And shame the fools--Your int’rest, 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;

65 At last he whifpers, “ Do; and we go snacks.".

” Glad of a quarrel, strait I clap the door, Sir, let me see your works and you no more.

'Tis sung, when Midas' Ears began to spring, (Midas, a sacred person and a King)

70
VARIATIONS.
VER. 60. in the former Edd.
Cibber and I are luckily no friends.

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

Vidi, vidi ipfe, Libelle !
Auriculas Afini Mida Rex habet.
The tranfition is fine, but obfcure: for he has here imitated
the manner of that mysterious writer, as well as taken up his

e. Our Author had been hitherto complaining of the folly

a

I.

His very Minifter who spy'd them first,
(Some say his Queen) was forc'd to speak, or burst.
And is not mine, my friend, a forer case,
When ev'ry coxcomb perks them in my

face? A.Good friend forbear! you deal in dang'rous things. I'd never name Queens, Ministers, or Kings; 76 Keep close to Ears, and those let afses prick,

Tis nothing---P. Nothing? if they bite and kick? Out with it, DUNCIAD! let the secret pass, That secret to each fool, that he's an Ass: 80 The truth once told (and wherefore should we lie?) The

queen of Midas slept, and so may You think this cruel? take it for a rule, No creature smarts so little as a fool. Let peals of laughter, Codrus ! round thee break, 85 Thou unconcern'd canst hear the mighty crack: Pit, box, and gall’ry in convulsions hurld, Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting world.

Notes. and importunity of indigent Scriblers; he now insinuates he suffered as much of both, from Poetasters of Quality.

VER. 72. Queen] The story is told, by some of his Barber, but by Chaucer of his Queen. See Wife of Bath's, Tale in Dryden's Fables.

P.
VER. 80. That secret to each fool, that he's an Ass :] i, e,
that his ears (his marks of folly) are visible.
VER. 88. Alluding to Horace,

Si fractus illabatur orbis,
Impavidum ferient ruinæ,

P.

а

a

Who shames a Scribler ? break one cobweb thro',
He spins the flight, self-pleasing thread anew: 90
Destroy his fib or sophistry, in vain,
The creature's at his dirty work again,
Thron’d in the centre of his thin designs,
Proud of a vast extent of flimzy lines !
Whom have I hurt? hąs Poet yet, or Peer, 95
Lost the arch'd eye-brow, or Parnaffian sneer?
And has not Colly still his lord, and whore?
His butchers Henley, his free-masons Moor?
Does not one table Bavius still admit?
Still to one Bishop Philips seem a wit? Іоо
Still Sappho--A.Hold; for God-fake--you'll offend,

;
No Names---be calm---learn prudence of a friend;
I too could write, and I am twice as tall;
But foes like these---P.OneFlatt'rer's worse than all.

NOTES. VER. 92. The creature's at his dirty work again,] This metamorphosing, as it were, the Scribler into a Spider is much more poetical than a comparison would have been. But Poets should be cautious how they employ this figure; for where the likeness is not very striking, instead of giving force, they become obscure. Here, every thing concurs to make them run into one another. They both spin; not from the head

; [reason] but from the guts [passions and prejudices) and fuch

thread that can entangle none but creatures weaker than themselves.

Ver. 98. free-mafons Moor?] He was of this fociety, and frequently headed their processions,

a

Of all mad creatures, if the learn'd are right, 105
It is the Naver kills, and not the bite.
A fool quite angry is quite innocent:
Alas! 'tis ten times worse when they repent.

One dedicates in high heroic prose,
And ridicules beyond a hundred foes : 11ο
One from all Grubstreet will my fame defend,
And more abusive, calls himself

my

friend. This prints my Letters, that expects a bribe, And others roar aloud, Subscribe, subscribe.”

There are, who to my person pay their court:115 I cough like Horace, and, tho' lean, am short, Ammon's great fon one shoulder had too high, Such Ovid's nose, and “ Sir!

you

have an Eye--Go on, obliging creatures, make me fee All that difgrac'd my Betters, met in me. 120

VARIATIONS.
Ver. 111, in the MS.

For song, for filence some expect a bribe;
And other roar aloud, “ Subscribe, subscribe."
Time, praise, or money, is the least they crave;
Yet each declares the other fool or knave.

NOTES. Ver. 118. Sir, you have an Eye] It is remarkable that amongst these compliments on his infirmities and deformities, he mentions his eye, which was fine, sharp, and piercing. It was done to intimate, that flattery was as odious to him when there was some ground for commendation, as when there was none.

THE SATIRE S. 17. Say for my comfort, languishing in bed,

Just so immortal Maro held his head:” And when I die, be sure you

let me know Great Homer dy'd three thousand years ago.

Why did I write? what sin to me unknown 125 Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.

VARIATIONS.
After y 124. in the MS.

But, friend, this shape, which You and Curl - admire,
Came not from Ammon's son, but from

my

Sire :
And for my head, if you'll the truth excuse,
I had it from my Mother, not the Muse.
Happy, if he, in whom these frailties join'd,

Had heir'd as well the virtues of the mind. a Curl set up his head for a fign. b His Father was crooked. c His Mother was much afflicted with head-achs.

OTES. Ver. 127. As yet a child, &c.] He used to say, that he began to write verses further back than he could remember. When he was eight years old, Ogilby's Homer fell in his way, and delighted him extremely ; it was followed by Sandys' Ovid; and the raptures these then gave him were so strong, that he spoke of them with pleasure ever after. About ten, being at school at Hide-park-corner, where he was much neglected, and suffered to go to the Comedy with the greater boys, he turned the transactions of the Hiad into a play, made up

of a number of speeches from Ogilby's translation, tacked together with verses of his own. He had the address to persuade the upper boys to act it; he even prevailed on the Master's Gardener to represent Ajax ; and contrived to have all the actors dressed after the pictures in his favourite. Ogilby. At twelve he went with VOL. IV.

C

a

N

a