Sex Nor yet by help of all their wicked Art Bring Offspring to secure their Husband's Heart Nature too much i' th' dire Embrace is forc'd But ne're joins Influence with Desires so curs'd Incestuous Births and Monstâ—rs may appear But teeming Males not Earth nor Hell can bear Yet Graâ—â—hus thou degen'rate Son of Fame Thy Pranks are stigmatiz'd with greater blame Theirs was a privaâ—e thine an open Shame Who like a Fencer on a Publick Stage Hast made thy self the Scandal of the Age. Nor can Roâ—â—â—'s Noblest Blood with thine compare While thou maâ—'st Pâ—stime for the Theatre To what dir◠〈◊〉 can we assign these Crimes But to that reigning Atheism of the Times Ghosts Stygian Lakes and Frogs with croaking Note And Charon wafting Souls in leaky Boat Are now thought Fables to fright Fools conceiv'd Or Children and by Children scarce believ'd Yet give thou Credit What can we suppose The Temperate Curii and the Scipio's What will Fabricius or Camillus think When they behold from their Elisium's brink An Atheist's Soul to last Perdition sink How will they from th' assaulted Banks rebound And wish for Sacred Rites to purge th' unhallow'd ground In vain O Rome thou dost thy Conquest boast Beyond the Orcades short-nighted Coast Since free the conquer'd Provinces remain From Crimes that thy Imperial City stain Yet Rumour speaks if we may credit Fame Of one Armenian Youth who since he came Has learn'd the impious Trade and does exceed The lewdest Pathicks of our Roman Breed Blessings of Commerce he was sent 't is said For Breeding hither And he 's fairly bred Fly Foreign Youths from our polluted Streets And e're unman'd regain your Native Seats Lest while for Traffick here too long you stay You learn at last to trade th' Italian way And with curs'd Merchandise returning home Stock all your Country with the Figs of Rome The End of the Second Satyr EXPLANATORY NOTES ON THE SECOND SATYR SUppos'd by some to be Caesar Pompey and Crassus but by others more probably Augustus Anthony and Lepidus The Lex Iulia against Adultery Viz. Deform'd and so resembling Domitian The Law so called from Scantinius against whom it was put in Execution Suppos'd to be the Colledge of Priests appointed by Domitian to Celebrate the Quinquatria to Minerva Perverted Rites Because here Women were Excluded from the Mysteries as Men were elsewhere from Ceres's Worship Cotyttus Orgies The Goddess of Impudence Worshipp'd at Athens A Strumpet in her Life time that us'd to Dance Naked with most Obscene Gestures An Instance of Extraordinary Effeminacy it being the Custom for only Women to Swear by Goddesses the Men by Iove Hercules c. Alluding to the Priests of the Phrygian Goddesses who were castrated Viz. The One to Punish the Other to Expiate such Unnatural Crimes He means one of the Salii or Priests of Mars who carry'd his Shield and Implements and was Brawny enough to Dance under them at his Festival Câ—elestia Martis Arma ferunt Salii Ov. Fast. 3. Mars Father of Romulus who Founded Rome Emrods call'd in Latin Ficus THE THIRD SATYR OF JUVENAL Translated into ENGLISH VERSE BY Mr. DRYDEN ARGUMENT OF THE Third Satyr The Story of this Satyr speaks it self Umbritius the suppos'd Friend of Juvenal and himself a Poet is leaving Rome and retiring to Cumae Our Author accompanies him out of Town Before they take leave of each other Umbritius tells his Friend the Reasons which oblige him to lead a private life in an obscure place He complains that an honest man cannot get his bread at Rome That none but Flatterers make their Fortunes there That Grecians and other Foreigners raise themselves by those sordid Arts which he describes and against which â—e bitterly inveighs He reckons up the several Inconveniencies which arise from a City life and the many Dangers which attend it Upbraids the Noblemen with Covetousness for not Rewarding good Poets and arraigns the Government for starving them The great Art of this Satyr is particularly shown in Common Places and drawing in as many Vices as cou'd naturally fall into the compass of it THE THIRD SATYR GRiev'd tho I am an Ancient Friend to lose I like the Solitary Seat he chose In quiet Cumae fixing his Repose Where far from Noisy Rome secure he Lives And one more Citizen to Sybil gives The Road to Bajae and that soft Recess Which all the Gods with all their Bounty bless Tho I in Prochyta with greater ease Cou'd live than in a Street of Palaces What Scene so Deâ—art or so full of Fright As tow'ring Houses tumbling in the Night And Rome on Fire beheld by its own Blazing Light But worse than all the clatt'ring Tiles and worse Than thousand Padders is the Poet's Curse Rogues that in Dog-days cannot Rhime forbear But without Mercy read and make you hear Now while my Friend just ready to depart Was packing all his Goods in one poor Cart He stopp'd a little at the Conduit-Gate Where Numa modell'd once the Roman State In Mighty Councels with his Nymphs retir'd Though now the Sacred Shades and Founts are hir'd By Banish'd Jews who their whole Wealth can lay In â— smalâ— Basket on a Wisp of Hay Yet such our Avarice is that every Tree Pays for his Head not Sleep it self is free Nor Place nor Persons now are Sacred held From their own Grove the Muses are expell'd Into this lonely Vale our Steps we bend I and my sullen discontented Friend The Marble Caves and Aquaeducts we view But how Adult rate now and different from the true How much morâ— Beauteous had the Fountain been Embellish't with her first Created Green Where Crystal Streams through living Turf had run Contented with an Urn of Native Stone Then thus Vmbricius with an Angry Frown And looking back on this degen'rate Town Since Noble Arts in Rome have no supporâ— And ragged Virtue not a Friend at Court No Profit rises from th' ungrateful Stage My Poverty encreasing with my Age 'T is time to give my just Disdain a vent And Cursing leave so base a Government Where Dedalâ—â— his borrow'd Wings laid by To that obscure Retreat I chuse to fly While yet few furrows on my Face are seen While I walk upright and Old Age is green And Lachesis has somewhat left to spin Now now ' tisâ— time to quit this cursed place And hide from Villains my too honest Face Here let Arturius live and such as he Such Manners will with such a Town agree Knaves who in full Assemblies have the knack Of turning Truth to Lies and White to Black Can hire large Houses and oppress the Poor By farm'd Excise can cleanse the Common-shoare And rent the Fishery can bear the dead And teach their Eyes dissembled Tears to shed All this for Gain for Gain they sell their very Head These Fellows see what Fortune's pow'r can do Were once the Minstrels of a Country Show Follow'd the Prizâ—s through
which they treated it will appear hereafter that Horace writ not vulgarly on vulgar Subjects Nor always chose them His Stile is constantly accommodated to his Subject either high or low If his fault be too much lowness that of Persius is the fault of the hardness of his Metaphors and obscurity And so they are equal in the failings of their Stile where Iuvenal manefestly Triumphs over both of them The Comparison betwixt Horace and Iuvenal is more difficult because their Forces were more equal A Dispute has always been and ever will continâ—e betwixt the Favourers of the two Poets Non nostrum est tantas componere lites I shall only venture to give my own Opinion and leave it for better Judges to determine If it be only argu'd in general which of them was the better Poet the Victory is already gain'd on the side of Horace Virgil himself must yield to him in the delicacy of his Turns his choice of Words and perhaps the Purity of his Latin He who says that Pindar is inimitable is himself inimitable in his Odes But the Contention betwixt these two great Masters is for the Prize of Satire In which Controversie all the Odes and Epodes of Horace are to stand excluded I say this because Horace has written many of them Satirically against his private Enemies Yet these if justly consider'd are somewhat of the Nature of he Greek Silli which were Invectives against particular Sects and Persons But Horace had purg'd himself of this Choler before he enter'd on those Discourses which are more properly call'd the Roman Satire He has not now to do with a Lyce a Canidiâ— a Cassius Severus or a Menas but is to correct the Vices and the Follies of his Time and to give the Rules of a Happy and Virtuous Life In a word that former sort of Satire which is known in England by the Name of Lampoon is a dangerous sort of Weapon and for the most part Unlawful We have no Moral right on the Reputation of other Men. 'T is taking from them what we cannotâ— restore to them There are only two Reasons for which we may be permitted to write Lampoons and I will not promise that they can always justifie us The first is Revenge when we have been affronted in the same Nature or have been any ways notoriously abus'd and can make our selves no other Reparation And yet we know that in Christian Charity all Offences are to be forgiven as we expect the like Pardon for those which we daily commit against Almighty God And this Consideration has often made me tremble when I was saying our Saviour's Prayer for the plain Condition of the forgiveness which we beg is the pardoning of others the Offences which they have done to us For which Reason I have many times avoided the Commission of that Fault ev'n when I have been notoriously provok'd Let not this my Lord pass for Vanity in me For 't is truth More Libels have been written against me than almost any Man now living And I had Reason on my side to have defended my own Innocence I speak not of my Poetry which I have wholly given up to the Criticks let them use it as they please Posterity perhaps may be more favourable to me For Interest and Passion will lye bury'd in another Age And Partiality and Prejudice be forgotten I speak of my Morals which have been sufficiently aspers'd That only sort of Reputation ought to be dear to every honest Man and is to me But let the World witness for me that I have been often wanting to my self in that particular I have seldom answer'd any scurrilous Lampoon When it was in my power to have expos'd my Enemies And being naturally vindicative have suffer'd in silence and possess'd my Soul in quiet Any thing tho' never so little which a Man speaks of himself in my Opinion is still too much and therefore I will wave this Subject and proceed to give the second Reason which may justifie a Poet when he writes against a particular Person and that is when he is become a Publick Nuisance All those whom Horace in his Satires and Persius and Iuvenal have mention'd in theirs with a Brand of infamy are wholly such 'T is an Action of Virtue to make Examples of vicious Men. They may and ought to be upbraided with their Crimes and Follies Both for their own amendment if they are not yet incorrigible and for the Terrour of others to hinder them from falling into those Enormities which they see are so severely punish'd in the Persons of others The first Reason was only an Excuse for Revenge But this second is absolutely of a Poet's Office to perform But how few Lampooners are there now living who are capable of this Duty When they come in my way 't is impossible sometimes to avoid reading them But good God how remote they are in common Justice from the choice of such Persons as are the proper Subject of Satire And how little Wit they bring for the support of their injustice The weaker Sex is their most ordinary Theme And the best and fairest are sure to be the most severely handled Amongst Men those who are prosperously unjust are Intitled to a Panegyrick But afflicted Virtue is insolently stabb'd with all manner of Reproaches No Decency is consider'd no fulsomness omitted no Venom is wanting as far as dullness can supply it For there is a perpetual Dearth of Wit a Barrenness of good Sense and Entertainment The neglect of the Readers will soon put an end to this sort of scribling There can be no pleasantry where there is no Wit No Impression can be made where there is no Truth for the Foundation To conclude they are like the Fruits of the Earth in this unnatural Season The Corn which held up its Head is spoil'd with rankness But the greater part of the Harvest is laid along and little of good Income and wholesom Nourishment is receiv'd into the Barns This is almost a digression I confess to your Lordship but a just indignation forc'd it from me Now I have remov'd this Rubbish I will return to the Comparison of Iuvenal and Horace I wou'd willingly divide the Palm betwixt them upon the two Heads of Profit and Delight which are the two Ends of Poetry in general It must be granted by the Favourers of Iuvenal that Horace is the more Copious and Profitable in his Instructions of Humane Life But in my particular Opinion which I set not up for a Standard to better Judgments Iuvenal is the more delightful Author I am profited by both I am pleas'd with both but I owe more to Horace for my Instruction and more to Iuvenal for my Pleasure This as I said is my particular Taste of these two Authors They who will have either of them to excel the other in both qualities can scarce give better Reasons for their Opinion than I for mine But all unbiass'd Readers will conclude that my Moderation
to it And especially of thâ—se which consist in the Defects of Giving or Spending or in the Abuse of Riches He writes to Caesius Bassus his Friend and a Poet also Enquires first of his Health and Studies and afterwards informs him of his own and where he is now resident He gives an account of himself that he is endeavouring by little and little to wear off his Vices and particularly that he is combating Ambition and the Desire of Wealth He dwells upon the latter Vice And being sensible that few Men either Deâ—ire or Use Riches as they ought he endeavours to convince them of their Folly which is the main Design of the whole Satyr THE SIXTH SATYR To Caesius Bassus a Lyrick Poet. HAS Winter caus'd thee Friend to change thy Seat And seek in Sabine Air a warm retreat Say do'st thou yet the Roman Harp command Do the Strings Answer to thy Noble hand Great Master of the Muse inspir'd to Sing The Beauties of the first Created Spring The Pedigree of Nature to rehearse And sound the Maker's Work in equal Verse Now sporting on thy Lyre the Loves of Youth Now Virtuous Age and venerable Truth Expressing justly Sapho's wanton Art Of Odes and Pindar's more Majestick partâ— For me my warmer Constitution wants More cold than our Ligurian Winter grants And therefore to my Native Shores retir'd I view the Coast old Ennius once admir'd Where Clifts on either side their points display And after opening in an ampler way Afford the pleasing Prospect of the Bay 'T is worth your while O Romans to regard The Port of Luna says our Learned Bard Who in a Drunken Dream beheld his Soul The Fifth within the Transmigrating roul Which first a Peacock then Euphorbus was Then Homer next and next Pythagoras And last of all the Line did into Enniuâ— pass Secure and free from Business of the State And more secure of what the vulgar Prate Here I enjoy my private Thoughts nor care What Rots for Sheep the Southern Winds prepare Survey the Neighb'ring Fields and not repine When I behold a larger Crop than mine To see a Beggar 's Brat in Riches flow Adds not a Wrinckle to my even Brow Nor envious at the sight will I forbear My plentious Bowl nor bate my bounteous Cheer Nor yet unseal the Dregs of Wine that stâ—nk Of Cask nor in a nasty Flaggon Drink Let others stuff their Guts with homely fare For Men of diff'rent Inclinations are Tho born perhaps beneath one coâ—â—on Stat. In minds and manners Twins oppos'd â—e â—ee In the same Sign almost the same Degree One Frugal on his Birth-Day fears to dine Does at a Penny 's coâ—t in Herbs repine And hardly dares to dip his Fingers in the Brine Prepar'd as Priest of his own Rites to stand He sprinkles Pepper with a sparing hand His Jolly Brother opposite in sence Laughs at his Thrift and lavish of Expence Quaffs Crams and Guttles in his own defence For me I 'le use my own and take my share Yet will not Turbots for my Slaves prepare Nor be so nice in taste my self to know If what I swallow be a Thrush or no. Live on thy Annual Income Spend thy store And freely grind from thy full Threshing-Floor Next Harvest promises as much or more Thus I wou'd live But Friendship 's holy Band And Offices of kindness hold my hand My Friend is Shipwreck'd on the Brutian Sâ—rand His Riches in â—h ' Ioniâ—â— Main are lost And he himself stands shiv'ring on the Coast Where destitute of help forlorn and bare He wearies the Deaf Gods with Fruitless Pray'â— Their Images the Relicks of the Wâ—ack Torn from the Naked Poop are tided back By the wild Waves and â—udely thrown ashore Lye impotent Nor can themselves restore The Vessel sticks and shews her open'd â—ide And on her shatteâ—'d Mast the Mews in Triumph ride From thy new hope and from thy growing store Now lend Assistance and relieve the Poor Come do a Noble Act of Charity A Pittance of thy Land will set him free Let him not bear the Badges of a Wrack Nor beg with a blue Table on his back Nor tell me that thy frowning Heir will say 'T is mine that Wealth thou squander'st thus away What is 't to thee if he neglect thy Urn Or without Spices lets thy Body burn If Odours to thy Ashes he refuse Or buys Corrupted Cassia from the Iews All these the wiser Bestius will reply Are empty Pomp and Deadmen's Luxury We never knew this vain Expence before Th'effeminated Grecians brought it o're Now Toys and Trifles from their Athens come And Dates and Pepper have unsinnew'd Rome Our sweating Hinds their Sallads now defile Infecting homely Herbs with fragrant Oyl But to thy Fortune be not thou a Slave For what hast thou to fear beyond the Grave And thou who gap'st for my Estate draw near For I wou'd whisper somewhat in thy Ear. Hear'st thou the News my Friend th' Express is come With Laurell'd Letters from the Camp to Rome Caesar Salutes the Queen and Senate thus My Arms are on the Rhine Victorious From Mourning Altars sweep the Duâ—t away Cease Fasting and proclaim a Fat Thanksgiving Day The goodly Empress Jollily inclin'd Is to the welcome Bearer wond'rous kind And setting her Goodhousewifry aside Prepares for all the Pageantry of Pride The Captive Germans of Gygantick size Are ranck'd in order and are clad in frize The Spoils of Kings and Conquer'd Camps we boast Their Arms in Trophies hang on the Triumphal post Now for so many Glorious Actions done In Foreign parts and mighty Battels won For Peace at Home and for the publick Wealth I mean to Crown a Bowl to Caesar's Health Besides in Gratitude for such high matters Know I have vow'd two hundred Gladiators Say woud'st thou hinder me from this Expence I Disinherit thee if thou dar'st take Offence Yet more a publick Largess I design Of Oyl and Pyes to make the People dine Controul me not for fear I change my Will And yet methinks I hear thee grumbling still You give as if you were the Persian King Your Land does no such large Revenues bring Well on my Terms thou wilt not be my Heir If thou car'st little less shall be my care Were none of all my Father's Sisters lest Nay were I of my Mother's Kin bereft None by an Uncle's or a Grandam's side Yet I cou'd some adopted Heir provide I need but take my Journey half a day From haughty Rome and at Aricea stay Where Fortune throws poor Mâ—â—ius in my way Him will I chuse What him of humble Birth Obscure a Foundling and a Son of Earth Obscure Why prithee what am I I knowâ— My Father Grandsire and great Grandsire too If farther I derive my Pedigree I can but guess beyond the fourth degree The rest of my forgotten Ancestors Were Sons of Earth like him or Sons of Whores Yet why shou'd'st thou old
to his Master This I think my Lord to be the most Beautiful and most Noble kind of Satire Here is the Majesty of the Heroique finely mix'd with the Venom of the other and raising the Delight which otherwise wou'd be flat and vulgar by the Sublimity of the Expression I cou'd say somewhat more of the Delicacy of this and some other of his Satires but it might turn to his Prejudice if 't were carry'd back to France I have given Your Lordship but this bare hint in what Verse and in what manner this sort of Satire may best be manag'd Had I time I cou'd enlarge on the Beautiful Turns of Words and Thoughts which are as requisite in this as in Heroique Poetry it self of which this Satire is undoubtedly a Species With these Beautiful Turns I confess my self to have been unacquainted till about Twenty Years ago in a Conversation which I had with that Noble Wit of Scotland Sir George Mackenzy He asked me why I did not imitate in my Verses the turns of Mr. Waller and Sir Iohn Denham of which he repeated many to me I had often read with pleasure and with some profit those two Fathers of our English Poetry but had not seriously enough consider'd those Beauties which give the last perfection to their Works Some sprinklings of this kind I had also formerly in my Plays but they were casual and not design'd But this hint thus seasonably given me first made me sensible of my own wants and brought me afterwards to seek for the supply of them in other English Authors I look'd over the Darling of my youth the Famous Cowley there I found instead of them the Points of Wit and Quirks of Epigram even in the Davideis a Heroick Poem which is of an opposite nature to those Puerilities but no Elegant turns either on the word or on the thought Then I consulted a Greater Genius without offence to the Manes of that Noble Author I mean Milton But as he endeavours every where to express Homer whose Age had not arriv'd to that fineness I found in him a true sublimity lofty thoughts which were cloath'd with admirable Grecisms and ancient words which he had been digging from the Mines of Chaucer and of Spencer and which with all their rusticity had somewhat of Venerable in them But I found not there neither that for which I look'd At last I had recourse to his Master Spencer the Author of that immortal Poem call'd the Fairy-Queen and there I met with that which I had been looking for so long in vain Spencer had studi'd Virgil to as much advantage as Milton had done Homer And amongst the rest of his Excellencies had Copy'd that Looking farther into the Italian I found Tasso had done the same nay more that all the Sonneâ—s in that Language are on the turn of the first thought which Mr. Walsh in his late ingenious Preface to his Poems has obâ—erv'd In short Virgil and Ovid are the two Principal Fountains of them in 〈◊〉 Poetry And the French at this day are so fond of them that they judge them to be the first Beauties Delicate bien tourné are the highest Commendations which they bestow on somewhat which they think a Master-Piece An Example of the turn on Words amongst a thousand others is that in the last Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses Heâ— quantum seelus est in viscera viscera condi Congestoqueâ—vidum pinguescere corpore corpus Alteriâ—sque Animantem Animantis vivere â—â—to An Example on the turn both of Thoughts and Words is to be found in 〈◊〉 in the Complaint of Ariadne when she was left by Theseus Tâ—m jam nulla viro juranti faemina credat Nâ—lla viri speret Sermones esse â—ideles Qui dum aliquid cupiens animus prâ—egestit apisci Nil metuunt jurare nihil promittere parâ—â—nt Sed â—imul â—c cupidae mentis sâ—tiata libido est Dicta nihil metuere nihil perjuria curant An extraordinary turn upon the words is that in Ovid's Epistolae Herâ—â—dâ—m of 〈◊〉 to Phaâ—◠〈…〉 〈…〉 Lastly a turn which I cannot say is absolutely on Words for the Thought turns with them is in the Fourth 〈◊〉 of Virgil where 〈◊〉 is to receive his Wife from Hell on express Condition not to 〈◊〉 her â—â—ll she was come on Earth 〈…〉 Ignoscenda quidem scirent si ignoscere Manes I will not burthen your Lordship with more of them for I write to a Master who understands them better than my 〈◊〉 But I may 〈…〉 them to be great Beauties I might descend also to the â—â—â—â—nick Beauties of Heroiok Vâ—rse but we have yet no English Profâ—â—â— not so much as a 〈◊〉 Dictionary or a Grammar so that our Language is in a manner Barbarous and what Government will 〈◊〉 any one or more who are capable or Resining it I know not But nothing under a Publick Expence can go through with it And I rather fear a declination of the Language than hope an advancement of 〈…〉 I am 〈◊〉 speaking to you my Lord though in all probability you are already out of hearing Nothing which my 〈◊〉 can produce is worthy of this long attention But I am come to the last Petition of Abraham If there be 〈…〉 Lines in this 〈◊〉 Preface spare it for their sake and also spare the next City because it is but a little one 〈…〉 some Gentlemen who have succeeded very happily in their Undertaking let their Excellencies attone for my Imperfections and those of my Sons I have perus'd some of the Satires which are done by other Hands And they seem to me as perfect in their kind as any thing I have seen in English Verse The common way which we have taken is not a Literal Translation but a kind of Paraphrase or somewhat which is yet more loose betwixt a Paraphrase and Imitation It was not possible for us or any Men to have made it pleasant any other way If rendring the exact Sense of these Authors almost line for line had been our business Barten Holiday had done it already to our hands And by the help of his Learned Notes and Illustrations not only of Iuvenal and Persius but what yet is more obscure his own Verses might be understood But he wrote for Fame and wrote to Scholars We write only for the Pleasure and Entertainment of those Gentlemen and Ladies who tho they are not Scholars are not Ignorant Persons of Understanding and good Sense who not having been conversant in the Original or at least not having made Latine Verse so much their business as to be Critiques in it wou'd be glad to find if the Wit of our Two great Authors be answerable to their Fame and Reputation in the World We have therefore endeavour'd to give the Publick all the Satisfaction we are able in this kind And if we are not altogether so faithful to our Author as our Predecessours Holiday and Stapylton yet we may Challenge to our selves this praise that we
did beguile The teeming Iulia's Womb and thence did wrest Crude Births that yet th' Incestuous Sire confest How shall such Hypocrites Reform the State On whom the Brothels can Recriminate Of this we have an Instance great and new In a Cock-Zealot of this Preaching Crew Whose late Harangue the gaping Rabble drew His Theme as Fate wou'd have 't was Fornication And as i' th' fury of his Declamation He cry'd Why sleeps the Iulian Law that aw'd This Vice Laronia an industrious Bawd As Bawds will run to Lectures nettled much To have her Copy-hold so nearly toucht With a disdainful Smile reply'd Blest Times That made thee Censor of the Age's Crimes Rome now must needs Reform and Vice be stopt Since a Third Cato from the Clouds is dropt But tell me Sir what Perfume strikes the Air From your most Rev'rend Neck o'regrown with Hair For modestly we may presume I trow 'T is not your Nat'ral Grain The Price I 'd know And where 't is sold direct me to the Street And Shop for I with no such Essence meet Let me entreat you Sir for your own sake Use Caution and permit the Laws to take A harmless Nap left the Scantinian wake Our wise Forefathers took their Measures right Nor wreak'd on Fornicators all their spight But left a Limbo for the Sodomite If you Commission-Courts must needs erect For Manners put the Test to your own Sect. But you by Number think your selves secure While our thin Squadron must the Brunt endure With grief I must confess our Muster 's few And much with Civil Broils impair'd while you Are to the Dev'l and to each other true Your Penal Laws against Us are enlarg'd On whom no Crimes like what you act are charg'd Flavia may now and then turn up for Bread But chastly with Catulla lies a Bed Your Hispo acts both Sexes parts before A Fornicator and behind a Whore We ne're invade your Walks the Clients Cause We leave to your confounding and the Laws If now and then an Amazonian Dame Dares fight a publick Prize 't is sure less shame Than to behold your unnerv'd Sex set in To Needle-Work and like a Damsel Spin. How Hister's Bondman his sole Heir became And his conniving Spouse so rich a Dame Is known that Wife with Wealth must needs be sped Who is content to make a Third in Bed You Nymphs that would to Coach and Six arrive Marry keep Counsel and y' are sure to thrive Yet these Obnoxious Men without Remorse Against our Tribe will put the Laws in force Clip the Dove's Wing and give the Vulture course Thus spoke the Matron The convicted Crew From so direct a Charge like Lightning flew It must be so Nor vain Metellus shall From Rome's Tribunal thy Harangues prevail Gainst Harlotry while thou art clad so thin That through thy Cobweb-Robe we see thy Skin As thou Declaim'st Fabulla is you say A Whore I own it so 's Carsinia Rank Prostitutes therefore without remorse Punish the Strumpets give the Law its course But when y 'ave sentenc'd them Metellus know They'd blush t' appear so loosly Drest as you You say the Dog-Star reigns whose â—ultry Fire Melts you to death ev'n in that light Attire Go naked then 't were better to be mad Which has a priv'ledge than so lewdly clad How wou'd our Mountain Sires return'd from Plow Or Battel such a Silken Judge allow Canst thou restore old Manners or retrench Rome's Pride who com'st transparent to the Bench This Mode in which thou singly do'st appear By thy Example shall get footing here Till it has quite deprav'd the Roman Stock As one infected Sheep confounds the Flock Nor will this Crime Metellus be thy worst No Man e're reach'd the heights of Vice at first For Vice like Virtue by Degrees must grow Thus from this wanton Dress Metellus thou With those polluted Priests at last shall join Who Female Chaplets round their Temples twine And with perverted Rites profane the Goddess Shrine Where such vile Practices 'twixt Males are past As makes our Matrons lewd Nocturnals chast Cotyttus Orgies scarce are more obscene For thus th' Effeminate Priests themselves demean With Jet-black Pencils one his Eye-brows dyes And adds new Fire to his lascivious Eyes Another in a Glass Priapus swills While twisted Gold his platted Tresses fills A Female Robe and to compleat the Farce His Servant not by Iove but Iuno swears One holds a Mirrour pathick Otho's Shield In which he view'd before he march'd to Field Nor Ajax with more Pride his seven-fold Targe did wield Oh Noble Subject for new Annals fit In musty Fame's Records unmention'd yet A Looking-Glass must load th' Imperial Car The most important Carriage of the War Galba to kill he thought a Gen'ral's Part But as a Courtier us'd the nicest Art To keep his Skin from Tan before the Fight Wou'd paint and set his soil'd Complexion right A Softness which Semiramis ne're knew When once she had the Field and Foe in view Nor Egypt's Queen when she from Actium flew No chast Discourse their Festivals afford Obsceneness is the Language of their Board Soft lisping Tones taught by some bald-pate Priest For skillful Palate Master of the Feast A Pack of Prostitutes un-nerv'd and rife For th' operation of a Phrygian Knife For from such Pathicks 't were but just to take Those Manly Parts of which no use they make Gracchus 't is said gave to his Trumpeter Four Hundred Sesterce's For what in Dow'r The Motion 's lik'd the Parties are agreed And for Performance seal a formal Deed Guests are bespoke a Wedding-Supper made The wonted Joy is wisht that done The He-Bride in his Bridegroom's Arms is laid O Peers of Rome need these stupendious Times A Censer or Aruspex for such Crimes The Prodigy less Monstrous wou'd appear If Women Calves or Heifers Lambs shou'd bear In Bridal Robe and Veil the Pathick's drest Who bore the pondrous Shield at Mâ—rs his Feast Father of Rome say what detested Clime Taught Latian Shepherds so abhorr'd a Crime Say thundring Mars from whence the Nettle sprung Whose Venom first thy Noble Offspring stung Behold a Man by Birth and Fortune Great Weds with a Man yet from th' Etherial Seat No ratling of thy Brazen Wheels we hear Nor is Earth pierc'd with thy avenging Spear Oh! if thy Jurisdiction Mars falls short To punish Mischiefs of so vast import Complain to Iove and move the higher Court. For shame redress this Scandal or resign Thy Province to some Pow'r that 's more Divine To Morrow early in Quirinus Vale I must attend Why Thereby hangs a Tale A Male-Friend's to be marry'd to a Male. 'T is true the Wedding 's carry'd privately The Parties being at present somewhat shy But that they own the Match e're long you 'll hear And see it in the Publick Register But one sore grief does â—hese Heâ— Brides perplex Though they debâ—â—e they cannot change their
Ponds been fed And from its Lord undutifully fled So justly ought to be again restor'd Nay if you credit Sage Palphurius word Or dare rely on Armillatus Skill Whatever Fish the vulgar Fry excel Belong to Caesar wheresoe'er they swim By their own worth confiscated to him The Boatman then shall a wise Present make And give the Fish before the Seizers take Now sickly Autumn to dry Frosts gave way Cold Winter rag'd and fresh preserv'd the Prey Yet with such haste the busie Fisher flew As if a hot South Wind Corruption blew And now he reach'd the Lake where what remains Of Alba still her Antient Rites retains Still Worships Vesta tho an humbler way Nor lets the hallow'd Trojan Fire decay The wond'ring Crowd that to strange Sights resort And choak'd a while his Passage to the Court At length gives way ope flies the Pallace-Gate The Turbut enters in without the Fathers wait The Boatman straight does to Aftrides press And thus presents his Fish and his Address Accept Dread Sir this Tribute from the Main Too great for private Kitchins to contain To your glad Genius sacrifice this day Let common Meats respectfully give way Haste to unload your Stomach to receive This Turbut that for you did only live So long preserv'd to be Imperial Food Glad of the Net and to be taken proud How fulsom this how gross yet this takes well And the vain Prince with empty Pride does swell Nothing so monstrous can be said or feign'd But with Belief and Joy is entertain'd When to his Face the worthless Wretch is prais'd Whom vile Court-Flattery to a God has rais'd But oh hard Fate the Palace stores no Dish Afford capacious of the mighty Fish To sage Debate are summon'd all the Peers His Trusty and much hated Councellors In whose pale look that ghastly Terror sat That haunts the dangerous Friendships of the Great The loud Liburnian that the Senate call'd Run run he 's set he 's set no sooner baul'd But with his Robe snatch'd up in haste does come Pegasus Bailiff of affrighred Rome What more were Praefects then the Best he was And faithfullest Expounder of the Laws Yet in ill times thought all things manag'd best When Justice Exercis'd her Sword the least Old Crispus next Pleasant tho' Old appears His Wit nor Humour yielding to his years His Temper mild good Nature joyn'd with Sense And Manners charming as his Eloquence Who fitter for a useful Friend than he To the Great Ruler of the Earth and Sea If as his Thoughts were Just his Tongue were free If it were safe to vent his Generous Mind To Rome's dire Plague and Terrour of Mankind If cruel Power could softning Councel bear But what 's so tender as a Tyrant's Ear With whom whoever tho a Fav'rite spake At every Sentence set his Life at stake Tho the Discourse were of no weightier things Than sultry Summers or unhealthful Springs This well he knew and therefore never try'd With his weak Arms to stem the stronger Tyde Nor did all Rome grown Spiritless supply A Man that for bold Truth durst bravely dye So safe by wise complying silence he Ev'n in that Court did fourscore Summers see Next him Acilius tho his Age the same With eager haste to the Grand Councel came With him a Youth unworthy of the Fate That did too near his growing Virtues wait Urg'd by the Tyrant's Envy Fear or Hate But 't is long since Old Age began to be In Noble Blood no less than Prodigy Whence 't is I 'd rather be of Gyants Birth A Pigmy-Brother to those Sons of Earth Unhappy Youth whom from his destin'd End No well dissembled Madness could defend When Naked in the Alban Theater In Lybian Bears he fixt his Hunting Spear Who sees not now through the Lord 's thin disguise That long seem'd Fools to prove at last more wise That State-Court trick is now too open laid Who now admires the part old Brutus Play'd Those honest times might swallow this pretence When the King's Beard was deeper than his Sence Next Rubrius came tho not of Noble Race With equal marks of Terror in his Face Pale with the gnawing Guilt and inward Shame Of an old Crime that is not fit to name Worse yet in Scandal taking more delight Than the vile Pathick that durst Satyr write Montanus Belly next advancing slow Before the sweating Senator did go Crispinus after but much sweeter comes Sented with costly Oyls and Eastern Gums More than would serve two Funerals for Perfumes Then Pompey none more skill'd in the Court Game Of cutting Throats with a soft Whisper came Next Fuscus he who many a peaceful day For Dacian Vultures was reserv'd a Prey Till having study'd War enough at home He led abroad th' unhappy Arms of Rome Cunning Vejento next and by his side Bloody Catullus leaning on his Guide Decrepit yet a furious Lover he And deeply smit with Charms he could not see A Monster that even this worst Age outvies Conspicuous and above the common size A blind base Flatterer from some Bridge or Gate Rais'd to murdering Minister of State Deserving still to beg upon the Road And bless each passing Waggon and its Load None more admir'd the Fish He in its Praise With Zeal his Voice with Zeal his Hands did raise But to the left all his fine things did say Whilst on his right the unseen Turbut lay So he the Fam'd Cilician Fencer prais'd And at each hit with Wonder seem'd amaz'd So did the Scenes and Stage Machines admire And Boys that flew through Canvas Clouds in Wyre Nor came Vejento short but as inspir'd By thee Bellona by thy Fury fir'd Turns Prophet See the Mighty Omen see He cries of some Illustrious Victory Some Captive King Thee his new Lord shall own Or from his Brittish Chariot headlong thrown The Proud Arviragus came tumbling down The Monsters Forreign Mark the pointed Spears That from thy Hand on his pierc'd Back he wears Who Nobler could or plainer things presage Yet one thing scap'd him the Prophetick Rage Shew'd not the Turbut's Country not its Age. At length by Caesar the grand Question 's put My Lords your Judgment Shall the Fish be cut Far be it far from us Montanus cries Let 's not dishonour thus the Noble Prize A Pot of finest Earth thin deep and wide Some Skilful quick Prometheus must provide Clay and the forming Wheel prepare with speed But Caesar be it from henceforth decreed That Potters on the Royal Progress wait T' assist in these Emergencies of State This Council pleas'd nor cou'd it fail to take So fit so worthy of the Man that spake The old Court Riots he remember'd well Could Tales of Nero's Midnight Suppers tell When Falern Wines the lab'ring Lungs did fire And to new Dainties kindled false Desire In Arts of Eating none more early Train'd None in my time had equal Skill
great Quantities of Corn from Africa and of Mushroms too it seems The Name of a Glutton or Parasite The Name of a famous Thief who stole the Oxen of Hercules and drew them into his Den backwards but was slain by Hercules and drag'd out by the Heels Aeneid 8. The Census Equestris about 3125 l. English Roscius Otho made a Law that whereas before Roman Gentlemen and Commons sat promiscuously in the Theatres there shou'd be Fourteen Seats or Benches apart for those who were worth that Sum. An allusion to that of Dido Si quis mihi parvulus aula â—â—deret Aenâ—as The meaning is thou must have no Child to deâ—eat hiâ— hopes of becoming thy Heir Ironically His Wife Agrippina gave him a poyson'd one of which he dy'd See that ingenious Satyr of Seneca Claâ—dij Apocolocyntosis The Gardens of Alcinous King of the Phaeacians are renown'd in Homer and all Antiquity In the following Lines there is in the Original Reference to the Custom of Roman Children wearing for distinction of their Quality the Bulla aurea or Corsacca I have translated them according to the intent and sense of the Poet without allusion to those Customs which being unknown to meer English Readers wou'd have only made the Translation as obscure as the Original Of so many Indignities I know the Commentators give another sense of these last Lines but I take them to allude to the manner of the Manumission of Slaves which was done by giving them a touch or blow on the Head by their â—ord or the Praetor with a Wand call'd Vindicta and thus the meaning will be that Trebius weari'd at last will be glad to be discharg'd from the Slavery of attending where he finds such usage THE SIXTH SATYR OF JUVENAL Translated into ENGLISH VERSE BY Mr. DRYDEN ARGUMENT OF THE Sixth Satyr This Satyr of almost double length to any of the rest is a bitter invective against the fair Sex T is indeed a Common-place from whence all the Moderns have notoriously stollen their sharpest Raileries In his other Satyrs the Poet has only glanc'd on some particular Women and generally scourg'd the Men. But this he reserv'd wholly for the Ladies How they had offended him I know not But upon the whole matter he is not to be excus'd for imputing to all the Vices of some few amongst them Neither was it generously done of him to attack the weakest as well as the fairest part of the Creation Neither do I know what Moral he cou'd reasonably draw from it It could not be to avoid the whole Sex if all had been true which he alledges against them for that had been to put an end to Humane Kind And to bid us beware of their Artifices is a kind of silent acknowledgment that they have more wit than Men which turns the Satyr upon us and particularly upon the Poet who thereby makes a Complement where he meant a Libel If he intended only to exercise his Wit he has forfeited his Iudgment by making the one half of his Readers his mortal Enemies And amongst the Men all the happy Lovers by their own Experience will disprove his Accusations The whole World must allow this to be the wiâ—tiest of his Satyrs and truly he had need of all his parts to maintain with so much violence so unjust a Charge I am satisfied he will bring but few over to his Opinion And on that Consideration chiefly I ventur'd to translate him Though there wanted not another Reason which was that no one else would undertake it At least Sir C. S. who cou'd have done more right to the Author after a long delay at length absolutely refus'd so ungrateful an employment And every one will grant that the Work must have been imperfect and lame if it had appear'd without one of the Principal Members belonging to it Let the Poet therefore bear the blame of his own Invention and let me satisfie the World that I am not of his Opinion Whatever his Roman Ladies were the English are free from all his Imputations They will read with Wonder and Abhorrence the Vices of an Age which was the most Infamous of any on Record They will bless themselves when they behold those Examples related of Domitian's time They will give back to Antiquity those Monsters it produc'd And believe with reason that the Species of those Women is extinguish'd or at least that they were never â—ere propagated I may safely therefore proceed to the Argument of a Satyr which is no way relating to them And first observe that my Author makes their Lust the most Heroick of their Vices The rest are in a manner but digression He skims them over but he dwells on this when he seems to have taken his last leave of it on the sudden he returns to it 'T is one Branch of it in Hippia another in Messalina but Lust is the main Body of the Tree He begins with this Text in the first line and takes it up with Intermissions to the end of the Chapter Every Vice is a Loader but thatâ—s a Ten. The Fillers or intermediate Parts are their Revenge their Contrivaâ—ces of secret Crimes their Arts to hide them their Wit to excuse them and their Impudence to own them when they can no longer be kept secret Then the Persons to whom they are most addicted and on whom they commonly bestow the last Favours As Stage-Players Fidlers Singing-Boys and Fencers Those who pass for Chast amongst them are not really so but only for their vast Dowries are rather suffer'd than lov'd by their own Husbands That they are Imperious Domineering Scolding Wives Set up for Learning and Criticism in Poetry but are false Iudges Love to speak Greek which was then the Fashionable Tongue as French is now with us That they plead Causes at the Bar and play Prizes at the Bear-Garden That they are Gossips and News-Mongers Wrangle with their Neighbours abroad and beat their Servants at home That they lie in for new Faces once a Month are slattish with their Husbands in private and Paint and Dress in Publick for their Lovers That they deal with Iews Diviners and Fortune-tellers Learn the Arts of Miscarrying and Barrenness Buy Children and produce them for their own Murther their Husbands Sons if they stand in their way to his Estate and make their Adulterers his Heirs From hence the Poet proceeds to shew the Occasions of all these Vices their Original and how they were introduc'd in Rome by Peace Wealth and Luxury In conclusion if we will take the word of our malicious Author Bad Women are the general standing Rule and the Good but some few Exceptions to it THE SIXTH SATYR IN Saturn's Reign at Nature's Early Birth There was that Thing call'd Chastity on Earth When in a narrow Cave their common shade The Sheep the Shepherds and their Gods were laid When Reeds and Leaves and Hides of Beasts were spread By Mountain Huswifes for their homely Bed And Mossy Pillows rais'd
Sicily who kindly Entertain'd Aenaeas in his Voyage The People were us'd at their Sword-plays to gather Money for the Conquerour THE EIGHTH SATYR OF JUVENAL Translated into ENGLISH VERSE BY Mr. G. STEPNY Fellow of Trinity College in CAMBRIDGE ARGUMENT OF THE Eighth Satyr In this Satyr the Poet proves that Noâ—ility doâ—s not confist in Statues and Pedigrees but in Honourable and Good Actions He lashes Rubellius Plancus for being Insolent by Reason of his High â—irth and lays doâ—n â—n Iâ—staâ—ce tâ—â—t 〈◊〉 ought to make the like Iudgment of Men as we do of Horses who are valued rather according to their Personal Qualities than by the Race of whence they coâ—â— He adâ—ises his Nâ—ble Friend Ponticus to whom he Dedicates the Satyr to lead a Virtuous Life disswading him from Debauchery Luxury Oppression Cruelty and other Vices by his severe Censures on Lateranus Damasippus Grâ—cchus Nero Catiline And in Opposition to these displays the worth of Persons Meanly Born such as Cicero Marius Servius Tullius and the Decii THE EIGHTH SATYR WHat 's the advantage or the real Good In traceing from the Source our ancient Blood To have our Ancestors in Paint or Stone Preserv'd as Reliques or like Monsters shewn The Brave Aemilii as in Triumph plac'd The Virtuous Curii half by Time defac'd Corvinus with a mouldring Nose that bears Injurious Scars the sad Effects of Years And Galba grinning without Nose or Ears Vain are their Hopes who fancy to inherit By Trees of Pedigrees of Fame or Merit Tho plodding Heralds through each Branch may trace Old Captains and Dictators of their Race While their Ill Lives that Family belye And grieve the Brass which stands dishonour'd by 'T is meer Burlesque that to our Gen'rals praise Their Progeny immortal Statues raise Yet far from that old Gallantry delight To game before their Images all night And steal to Bed at the approach of day The hour when these their Ensigns did display Why shou'd soft Eabius impudently bear Names gain'd by Conquests in the Gallic War Why lays he claim to Hercules his Strain Yet dares be Base Effeminate and Vain The glorious Altar to that Hero built Adds but a greater Lustre to his Guilt Whose tender Limbs and polisht Skin disgrace The grisly Beauty of his Manly Race And who by practising the dismal skill Of Poys'ning and such treacherous ways to kill Makes his unhappy Kindred-Marble sweat When his degenerate Head by theirs is set Long Galleries of Ancestors and all Those Follies which ill-grace a Country-Hall Challenge no Wonder or Esteem from me Virtue alone is true Nobility Live therefore well To Men and Gods appear Such as Good Paulus Cossus Drusus were And in thy Consular triumphal Shew Let These before thy Father's Statues go Place 'em before the Ensigns of the State As chusing rather to be Good than Great Convince the World that you 're devout and true Be just in all you say and all you do Whatever be your Birth you 're sure to be A Peer of the first Magnitude to me Rome for your sake shall push her Conquests on And bring New Titles home from Nations won To Dignifie so Eminent a Son With your blest Name shall every Region sound Loud as mad Egypt when her Priests have found A new Osyris for the Ox they drown'd But who will call those Noble who deface By meaner Acts the Glories of their Race Whose only Title to their Father's Fame Is couch'd in the dead Letters of their Name A Dwarf as well may for a Gyant pass A Negro for a Swan a Crook-back'd Lass Be call'd Europa and a Cur may bear The Name of Tyger Lion or what-e're Denotes the Noblest or the Fiercest Beast Be therefore careful lest the World in jeast Shou'd thee just so with the Mock-titles greet Of Camerinus or of Conquer'd Crete To whom is this Advice and Censure due Rubellius Plancus 't is apply'd to you Who think your Person second to Divine Because descended from the Drusian Line Tho yet you no Illustrious Act have done To make the World distinguish Iulia's Son From the vile Offspring of a Trull who sits By the Town-Wall and for her Living knits You are poor Rogues you cry the baser Scum And inconsiderable Dregs of Rome Who know not from what Corner of the Earth The obscure Wretch who got you stole his Birth Mine I derive from Cecrops May your Grace Live and enjoy the Splendour of your Race Yet of these base Plebeians we have known Some who by charming Eloquence have grown Great Senators and Honours to that Gown Some at the Bar with Subtilty defend The Cause of an unlearned Noble Friend Or on the Bench the knotty Laws untye Others their stronger Youth to Arms apply Go to Euphrates or those Forces join Which Garrison the Conquests near the Rhine While you Rubellius on your Birth relye Tho you resemble your Great Family No more than those rough Statues on the Road Which we call Mercuries are like that God Your Blockhead tho excels in this alone You are a Living Statue that of Stone Great Son of Troy who ever prais'd a Beast For being of a Race above the rest But rather meant his Courage and his Force To give an Instance We commend an Horse Without regard of Pasture or of Breed For his undaunted Mettle and his speed Who wins most Plates with greatest ease and first Prints with his Hoofs his Conquest on the Dust. But if fleet Dragon's Progeny at last Proves jaded and in frequent Matches cast No favour for the Stallion we retain And no respect for the Degenerate strain The worthless Brute is from New-Market brought And at an under-rate in Smith-Field bought To turn a Mill or drag a Loaded Life Beneath two Panniers and a Baker's Wife That we may therefore you not yours admire First Sir some Honour of your own acquire Add to that Stock which justly we bestow On those Blest Shades to whom you all things owe. This may suffice the Haughty Youth to shame Whose swelling Veins if we may Credit Fame Burst almost with the Vanity and Pride That their Rich Flood to Nero's is ally'd The Rumour 's likely for We seldom find Much sence with an Exalted Fortune join'd But Ponticus I wou'd not you shou'd raise Your Credit by Hereditary praise Let your own Acts Immortalize your Name 'T is Poor relying on another's Fame For take the Pillars but away and all The Superstructure must in Ruins fall As a Vine droops when by Divorce remov'd From the Embraces of the Elm she lov'd Be a good Souldier or upright Trustee An Arbitrator from Corruption free And if a Witness in a doubtful Cause Where a brib'd Judge means to elude the Laws Tho Phalaris his Brazen Bull were there And He wou'd dictate what he 'd have yuo swear Be not so Profligate but rather chuse To guard your Honour and your Life to lose Rather than let your Virtue be
to Superstition and the Observation of his Country Laws From hence the Poet descends to a Satyr against Avarice which he esteems to be of worse Example than any of the former The remaining part of the Poem is wholly employ'd on this Subject to shew the Misery of this Vice He concludes with limiting our desire of Riches to a certain Measure which he confines within the compass of what Hunger and Thirst and Cold require for our preservation and subsistance With which Necessaries if we are not contented then the Treasures of Craesus of the Persian King or of the Eunuch Narcissus who commanded both the Will and the Fortunes of Claudius the Emperour wou'd not be sufficient to satisfie the greediness of our Desires THE FOURTEENTH SATYR To his Friend Fuscinus FVscinus those Ill Deeds that fully Fame And lay such Blots upon an Honest Name In Blood once Tainted like a Current run From the lewd Father to the lewder Son If Gaming does an Aged Sire entice Then my Young Master swiftly learns the Vice And shakes in Hanging-Sleeves the little Box and Dice Thus the Voluptuous Youth bred up to dress For his Fat Grandsire some Delicious Mess In Feeding High his Tutor will surpass As Heir Apparent of the Gourmand Race And shou'd a Thousand Grave Philosophers Be always hollowing Virtue in his Ears They wou'd at last their loss of Time lament And give him o're for Glutton in Descent Can Cruel Rutilus who loves the Noise Of Whips far better than a Syren's Voice Can Polyphemus or Antiphates Who gorge themselves with Man can such as These Set up to teach Humanity and give By their Example Rules for Us to live Can They preach up Equality of Birth And tell Us how we all began from Earth Th' Inhumane Lord who with a Cruel gust Can a Red Fork in his Slave's Forehead thrust Because th' unlucky Criminal was caught With little Theft of two course Towels fraught Can He a Son to soft Remorse incite Whom Goals and Blood and Butchery delight Who wou'd expect the Daughter shou'd be other Than Common Punk if Larga be the Mother Whose Lovers Names in order to run o're The Girl took Breath full thirty times and more She when but yet a tender Minx began To hold the Door but now sets up for Man And to her Gallants in her own Hand-Writing Sends Billets-douxs of the Old Baud's Inditeing So Nature Prompts so soon we go astray When old Experience puts us in the Way Our Green Youth Copies what Grey Sinners Act When Venerable Age commends the Fact Some Sons indeed some very few we see Who keep themselves from this Infection free Whom Gracious Heaven for Nobler Ends design'd Their Looks erected and their Clay refin'd The Rest are all by bad Example led And in their Father's slimy Track they tread Is 't not enough we shou'd our selves undo But that our Children we must Ruin too Children like tender Osiers take the bow And as they first are Fashion'd always grow By Nature headlong to all Ills we run And Virtue like some dreadful Monster shun Survey the World and where one Cato Shines Count a degenerate Herd of Catilines Suffer no lewdness or undecent Speech Th' Appartment of the tender Youth to reach Far be from thence the Glutton Parasite Singing his Drunken Katches all the Night But farther still be Woman Woman first Was Evils Cause her self of Ills the worst Boys ev'n from Parents may this Rev'rence claim For when thou dost at some Vile Action aim Say shou'd the harmless Child with-hold thy Hand Wou'd it not put thy Fury to a stand Then may we not conclude the Sire unjust Who when his Son or'ecome with Drink and Lust Is by the Censor of Good Manners caught And suffers Publick Penance for his Earth Rails and Reviles land turns him out of Door For what himself so oft has done before A Son so Copy'd from his Vice so much The very same in every little touch That shou'd he not Resemble too his Life The Father justly might suspect his Wife This very Rev'rend Letcher quite worn out With Rheumatisms and Crippled with his Gout Forgets what he in Youthful Times has done And swinges his own Vices in his Son To entertain a Guest with what a care Wou'd he his Household Ornaments prepare Harass his Servants and O'reseer stand To keep 'em Working with a threatning◠Wand Clean all my Plate he crys let not not one stain Sully the Figur'd Silver or the Plain Rub all the Floors make all the Pillars Bright No hanging Cobwebs leave to shock the Sight O Wretched Man is all this Hurry made On this Account because thou art afraid A dirty Hall or Entry shou'd Offend 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 If to some Useful Art he be not brad He grows 〈…〉 For what 〈…〉 In Age we are by second Nature Prone The callow Storks with Lizard and with Snake Are fed and soon as e're to Wing they take At sight those Animals for Food pursue The first delicious Bit they ever knew Ev'n so 't is Nature in the Vulture's breed On Dogs and Human Carcasses to feed Iove's Bird will sowse upon the timorous Hare And tender Kids with his sharp Tallons tear Because such Food was laid before him first When from his Shell the lab'ring Eaglet burst Centronius does high costly Villa's raise With Grecian Marble which the sight amaze Some stand upon Cajeta's winding shore At Tybur's Tow'r and at Praeneste more The Dome of Hercules and Fortune show To his tall Fabricks like small Cots below So much his Palaces o're-look 'em all As gelt Posides does our Capitol His Son builds on and never is content Till the last Farthing is in Structure spent The Iews like their bigotted Sires before By gazing on the Clouds their God adore So Superstitious that they 'll sooner Dine Upon the Flesh of Men than that of Swine Our Roman Customs they contemn and jear But learn and keep their Country Rites with fear That Worship only they in Rev'rence have Which in dark Volumes their Great Moses gave Ask 'em the Road and they shall point you wrong Because you do not to their Tribe belong They 'll not betray a Spring to quench your Thirst Unless you shew 'em Circumcision first So they are taught and do it to obey Their Fathers who observe the Sabbath-Day Young Men to imitate all Ills are Prone But are compell'd to Avarice alone For then in Virtue 's shape they follow Vice Because a true Distinction is so nice That the base Wretch who hoards up all he can Is Prais'd and call'd a Careful Thrifty Man The Fabled Dragon never guarded more The Golden Fleece than he his ill-got Store What a profound Respect where e're he goes The Multitude to such a Monster shows Each Father cries My Son Example take And led by this Wise Youth thy Fortunes make Who Day and