50 "The piece, you think, is incorrect? why take it, 45 "I'm all fubmiffion, what you'd have it, make it." Three things another's modeft wishes bound, My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten pound. Pitholeon fends to me: “ You know his Grace, "I want a Patron; ask him for a Place." Pitholeon libell'd me- " but here's a letter "Informs you, Sir, 'twas when he knew no better. "Dare you refuse him? Curl invites to dine, "He'll write a Journal, or he'll turn Divine." Blefs me! a packet.-" "Tis a ftranger fues, "A Virgin Tragedy, an Orphan Muse." If I diflike it," Furies, death and rage!" If I approve, "Commend it to the Stage." There (thank my ftars) my whole commiffion ends, The Play'rs and I are, luckily, no friends. VARIATIONS. VER. 53. in the MS. If you refufe, he goes, as fates incline, Cibber and I are luckily no friends. NOTES. 55 60 VER. 49. Pitholeon] The name taken from a foolish Poet of Rhodes, who pretended much to Greek. Schol. in Horat. 1. i. Dr. Bentley pretends, that this Pitholeon libelled Cæfar alfo. See notes on Hor. Sat. 10. 1. i. P. Fir'd that the houfe reject him, "'Sdeath I'll print it, "And fhame the fools-Your int'reft, Sir, with Lintot." Lintot, dull rogue! will think your price too much: "Not, Sir, if you revife it, and retouch. All my demurs but double his attacks ; At laft he whispers, "Do; and we go fnacks." Sir, let me fee your works and you no more. His very Minister who spy'd them first, 65 70 (Some fay his Queen) was forc'd to speak, or burst. And is not mine, my friend, a forer cafe, When ev'ry coxcomb perks them in my face? A. Good friend forbear! you deal in dang'rous things. I'd never name Queens, Minifters, or Kings; Keep close to Ears, and those let affes prick, 'Tis nothing-P. Nothing? if they bite and kick? Out with it, DUNCIAD! let the secret pass, That fecret to each fool, that he's an Afs: NOTES. 80 VER. 72. Queen] The story is told, by fome, of his Barber, but by Chaucer of his Queen. See Wife of Bath's Tale in Dryden's Fables. VER. 80. That secret to each fool, that he's an fifs ì. e. that his ears (his marks of folly) are vifible. The truth once told (and wherefore fhould we lie?) You think this cruel? take it for a rule, Let peals of laughter, Codrus! round thee break, 85 The creature's at his dirty work again, Still to one Bishop Philips feem a wit? NOTES. 90 95 100 VER. 88. Alluding to Horace, Si fractus illabatur orbis, Impavidum ferient ruina. P. VER. 96. arch'd eye-brow,] The eye-brow is raised in the expreffion of infolent contempt. VER. 98. free-mafons Moor?] He was of this fociety, and frequently headed their proceffions. Still Sappho-A. Hold! for God-fake-you'll offend, But foes like thefe-P. One Flatt'rer's worse than all. Of all mad creatures, if the learn'd are right, 105 It is the flaver kills, and not the bite. A fool quite angry is quite innocent: Alas! 'tis ten times worse when they repent. Say for my comfort, languishing in bed, 66 Juft fo immortal Maro held his head :” VARIATIONS. VER. III. in the MS. For fong, for filence fome expect a bribe; And others roar aloud, Subscribe, fubfcribe.** Time, praife, or money, is the leaft they crave; 120 And when I die, be fure you let me know Why did I write? what fin to me unknown 125 No duty broke, no father difobey'd. 130 The Muse but ferv'd to eafe fome friend, not Wife, To help me thro' this long disease, my Life, To fecond, ARBUTHNOT! thy Art and Care, But why then publish? Granville the polite, And knowing Walsh, would tell me I could write; Well-natur'd Garth inflam'd with early praise, And Congreve lov'd, and Swift endur'd my lays ; 135 But, Friend, this fhape, which You and Curl a admire, • Curl fet up his head for a fign. His Father was crooked. • His mother was much afflicted with head-achs, |