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a fool as to be ambitious of, does not keep away hunger. I know well enough, that glory makes us live after we are dead; but in this world, a man has but a poor time on't, if he has not a bit of bread to put in his mouth. I had but a little bit of land on the banks of the Rhone, on which I made a shift to live. But as it is now taxed, any body may have it for me; for I suppose I shall Apprehensoon, with my title and estate, be glad of an alms-house for my seat. I have no resource, if there be a prosecution commenced against me, as they threaten, but in your Majesty's goodness. If indeed, my fate is to be decided by that, I am in no danger, but shall laugh at them all. If your Majesty were to seize my poor patrimony Deprecation whole, what would a few acres of marsh-land be to the* mighty monarch of France and Navarre? *Pomp. It bears nothing but willows, and your Ma- †Contempt jesty values no trees but the ‡ laurel. I therefore Flattery. beseech your Majesty to give me leave to enjoy Submiffion. what my little spot brings in, without deduction.


All that a poor subject asks of your Majesty is Intreating. -That your Majesty would ask nothing of him.



IN elder days, ere yet the Roman bands

Victorious, this our distant world subdu'd,
A spacious city stood, with firmest walls

Sure mounded, and with num'rous turrets crown'd,
Aeriel spires and citadels, the seat

Of kings and heroes resolute in war;
Fam'd Ariconium; uncontroll'd and free,
Till all-subduing Latian arms prevail'd.
Then likewise, tho' to foreign yoke submiss,
Unlevell'd she remained; and e'en till now
Perhaps had stood, of ancient British art
A pleasing monument, not less admir'd
Than what from Attic or Etruscan hands



Arose; had not the heav'nly pow'rs averse
Decreed her final doom.) And now the fields
Labour'd with thirst. Aquarius had not shed
His wonted show'rs, and Sirius parch'd with heat
Solstitial, the green herb. Hence 'gan relax
The earth's contexture. Hence Tartarian dregs,
Sulphur and nitrous spume, enkindling fierce,
Bellow'd tremendous in her darksome caves,
More dismal than the loud disploded roar
Of brazen engin'ry, that ceaseless storm
The bastion of a well-built city, deem'd
Impregnable. Th' infernal winds, till now
Closely imprison'd by Titanian warmth
Dilating, and with unctuous vapour fed,
Disdain'd their narrow cells; and, their full

Collecting, from beneath the solid mass
Up-heav'd, and all her castles, rooted deep,
Shook from their lowest seat. Old Vaga's stream
Forc'd by the sudden shock, her wonted track
Forsook, and drew her humid train aslope,
Wrinkling her banks. And now the low'ring sky,
The baleful light'ning, and loud thunder, voice
Of angry heav'n, fierce roaring, with dismay
Trepidation The boldest hearts appall'd. (1) Where should
they turn


Distress'd? Whence seek for aid? When from


Hell threatens ; and when fate supreme gives signs
Defpair. Of wrath and desolation. Vain were vows,
And plaints, and suppliant hands, to heav'n erect!
Yet some to temples fled, and humble rites
Contempt Perform'd to Thor and Woden, fabled gods,
Who with their votries in one ruin shar'd,
Trepidation O'erwhelm' d and crush'd. Others in frantic mood,
Run howling through the streets. Their hideous

Horror. Rend the dark welkin. Horror stalks around
Wild staring, and his sad concomitant

(1) To be fpoken quick from the words, Where should, to defolation.

Despair, of abject look. At ev'ry gate
The thronging populace with hasty strides
Press furious, and, too eager of escape,
Obstruct the spacious way. The rocking street
Deceives their footsteps. To and fro they reel
Astonish'd, as with wine o'ercharg'd. When lo!
The parched earth her riven mouth disparts
Horrible chasm profound! With swift descent
Old Ariconium sinks; and all her tribes,
Heroes and senators, down to the realis
Of endless night. Meanwhile the loosen'd winds
Infuriate, molton rocks and globes of fire
Hurl'd high above the clouds; till all their force
Consum'd, her rav'nous jaws, earth satiate, clos'd..
[4. Philips.]



SWIFT on Tranfubstantiation. (1) (Tale of a Tub, Se&. IV.)

SCENE.-Lord Peter's house; a table covered with plates, knives, and forks, and a brown loaf in the middle of the table.

Lord Peter, MARTIN, and JACK.



Peter. BREAD, gentlemen, bread is the staff Diñating. of life. In bread is contained inclusive, the quintessence of beef, mutton, veal, venison, partridge, plumb-pudding, and custard; and, to render all complete, there is intermingled a due quantity of water, whose crudities are corrected by yeast, and which therefore becomes, to all intents and

(1) A pupil, in order to his expreffing properly this leffon, must be let a little into the author's plot; that by Peter is meant the Pope; by Martin, the Lutheran Church; and by Jack, the Calvinifls. That in this paffage, he expofes the doctrine of the wafer's being tranfubftantiated into the real body of Chrift; the Papifts refufing the cup to the laity; the arrogance of the Popes; and the evils arifing from perfecution.




Peevi fhnefs


purposes, a wholesome fermented liquor diffused through the mass of the bread. Therefore, he who eats bread, at the same time eats the best of food, and drinks the best of liquors. Come on brothers, the cause is good; fall to, and spare not. Here is a shoulder of excellent Banstead mutton [pointing to the brown loaf] as ever was cut with knife. Here you may cut and come again. But, now I think on it, I had better help you myself, now my hand is in. Young people are bashful. Come, brother Martin, let me help you to this slice.

Martin. My lord! [so Peter ordered his brothers to call him] I doubt, with great submision, here is some little mistake. In my humble

Peter. What, you are merry? Come, then, let us hear this jest, your head is so big with.

Martin, No jest indeed my lord. But unless I am very much deceived, your lordship was pleased, a little while ago, to drop a word about mutton; and I should be glad to see it upon the table.

Peevishness Peter. How! I don't comprehend you; Submiffion. Jack. Why, my lord, my brother Martin, I suppose, is hungry, and longs to see the shoulder of Banstead mutton, you spoke of, come to table.

Peevithness Peter Pray explain yourselves, gentlemen. Either you are both out of your wits, or are disposed to be merry a little unseasonably. You had better keep your jokes till after dinner. Brother Martin, if you don't like the slice I have help.. ed you to, I will cut you another; though I should think it the choicest bit of the whole shoulder.






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Martin. What then, my lord, is this brown loaf a shoulder of Banstead mutton all this while? Peter. Pray, Sir, leave off your impertinence, and eat your victuals, if you please. I am not disposed to relish your wit at present.

Martin. May I then, my lord, be soused Affirmation over head and ears in a horse-pond, if it seems to my eyes, my fingers, my nose, or my teeth, either less or more, than a slice of a stale six-penny brown loaf. Jack.


If I ever saw a shoulder of mutton in Confirmamy life look so like a six-penny brown loaf, I am an old basket-woman.

Peter. Look you, gentlemen, to convince you Reproving. what a couple of blind, positive, ignorant puppies, you are, I will use but one plain argument. The devil roast both your souls on his gridiron Execration. to all eternity, if you don't believe this [clapping his hand upon the brown loaf] to be a shoulder of as good mutton as ever was sold in Leaden-hall market.

Martin. Why truly, upon more mature consideration

Jack. Why, ay, now I have thought better on the thing, your lordship seems to be in the right.



Peter. O now you are come to yourselves. ReconciliaBoy fill me a bumber of claret. Come, brothers, tion. here is a good health to you both.

Martin and Jack. Thank your good lordship, Submission. and shall be glad to pledge you.

A mod


Peter. That you shall, my boys. I am not a man to refuse you any thing in reason. erate glass of wine is a cordial. There, [giving them a crust each,] There is a bumper a-piece for you. True natural juice of the grape. None of your nasty balderdash vintners' brewingsWhat now? [Observing them to stare,] are you at your doubts again? Here, boy; call neigh- Threatenbour Dominic (1) the blacksmith, here. Bid him bring his tongs with him. Red hot-d'ye hear? I'll teach you to doubt.


Martin. (2) Come, Jack; this house is like Trepidation to be too hot for you and me soon. He is quite

(1) St. Dominic was the inventor of the Inquifition.

(2) To be spoken quick to the end.

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