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Shov'd from the wall perhaps, or rudely press'd By his own fon, that paffes by unblefs'd: 235 Still to his wench he crawls on knocking knees, And envies ev'ry fparrow that he fees.

A falmon's belly, Helluo, was thy fate;

The doctor call'd, declares all help too late: foul! 240

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Mercy! cries Helluo, mercy on my "Is there no hope?-Alas!-then bring the jowl." The frugal Crone, whom praying priests attend, Still tries to fave the hallow'd taper's end, Collects her breath, as ebbing life retires, For one puff more, and in that puff expires. 245 "Odious! in woollen! 'twould a Saint provoke, (Were the last words that poor Narciffa spoke) No, let a charming Chintz, and Bruffels lace cold limbs, and hade my lifeless face:

« Wrap my

COMMENTARY.

Courtier, the Mifer, and the Patriot; which last instance the poet has had the art, under the appearance of Satire, to turn into the noblest Compliment on the perfon to whom the Epiftle is addreffed.

NOTES.

VER. 247: -the laft words that poor Narciffa fpoke] This ftory, as well as the others, is founded on fact, tho' the author had the goodness not to mention the names. Several attribute this in particular to a very celebrated Actrefs, who, in deteftation of the thought of being buried in woollen, gave these her laft orders with her dying breath. P.

VER. 242. The frugal Crone,] A fact told him, of a Lady at

Paris.

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"One would not,fure,be frightful when one's dead-"And-Betty-give this Cheek a little Red." The Courtier smooth, who forty years had shin'd An humble fervant to all human kind,

Just brought out this, when scarce his

tongue could

256

ftir, "If-where I'm going-I could ferve you, Sir?” "I give and I devife (old Euclio faid, And figh'd) "my lands and tenements to Ned. Your money, Sir?" My money, Sir, what all? "Why,---if I must--- (then wept) I give it Paul. "The Manor,Sir ?---"The Manor! hold, he cry'd, "Not that,---I cannot part with that”---and dy’d.

And you! brave COBHAM, to the latest breath Shall feel your ruling paffion strong in death: Such in those moments as in all the past,

"Oh, fave my Country, Heav'n!" shall be your last.

Plate XIII.

Vol. III. facing p.193.

N.Blakey inv. & del

G. Scotin Sculp In Men, we various ruling Passions find,

In Women, two almost divide the Kind:

Those only fix'd, they first or last obey, The Love of Pleasure, and the Love of Sway.

Char: of Women.

MORAL ESSAYS.

EPISTLE II.

то

A LA D Y.

Of the Characters of Women.

OTHING fo true as what

you once

let fall,

"Moft Women have no Characters at all."

Matter too foft a lasting mark to bear,

And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair.

NOTES.

Of the Characters of Women.] There is nothing in Mr. Pope's works more highly finished than this Epiftle: Yet its fuccefs was in no proportion to the pains he took in compofing it. Something he chanced to drop in a short Advertisement prefixed to it, on its firft publication, may perhaps account for the small attention given to it. He faid, that no one character in it was drawn from the life. The Public believed him on his word, and expreffed little curiofity about a Satire in which there was nothing perfonal.

VER. 1. Nothing fo true &c.] The reader perhaps may be

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