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No Commentator can more flily pass
O'er a learn'd, unintelligible place;
Or, in quotation, fhrewd Divines leave out
Those words, that would against them clear the doubt.
When doom'd to fay his beads and Even fong; 105
The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods, that shaded all the ground? We fee no new-built palaces aspire,
No kitchens emulate the vestal fire.
Where are those troops of Poor, that throng'd of yore The good old landlord's hofpitable door?
Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes
Some beasts were kill'd, tho' not whole hecatombs;
Thus much I've faid, I truft, without offence;
ELL; I may now receive, and die. My fin
A Purgatory, fuch as fear'd hell is
A recreation, and fcant map of this.
My mind, neither with pride's itch, nor hath been Poyfon'd with love to fee or to be seen,
I had no fuit there, nor new fuit to show,
Yet went to Court; but as Glare which did go
To Mafs in jeft, catch'd, was fain to disburse
Two hundred markes, which is the Statutes curfe,
VER. 1. Well, if it be etc.] Donne fays,
Well; I may now receive and die.
which is very indecent language on fo ludicrous an occafion
VER. EP. 3. I die in charity with fool and knave,] We verily think he did. But of the immediate caule of his departure hence there is fome fmall difference between his Friends and Enemies. His family fuggefts that a general decay of nature, which had been long coming on, ended with a Droply in the breaft, enough to have killed Hercules. The Gentlemen of the Dunciad maintain, that be
ELL, if it be my time to quit the stage,
W Adieu to all the follies of the age!
I die in charity with fool and knave,
To this were trifles, toys and empty names.
Wou'd go to Mafs in jeft (as story says)
fell by the keen pen of our redoubtable Laureat. We ourselves should be inclined to this latter opinion, for the fake of ornamenting his ftory; for it would be a fine thing for his Hiftorian to be able to fay, that he died, like his immortal namefake, Alexander the Great, by a drug of se deadly cold a nature, that, as Plutarch and other grave writers tell us, it could be contained in nothing but the Scull of an Ass. SCRIBL.
VER. 7. The Poct's bell] He has here with great prudence corrected the licentious expreffion of his Original.
Before he scap'd; fo it pleas'd my destiny
Therefore I fuffer'd this; towards me did run
His cloaths were ftrange, tho' coarse, and black,
Sleeveless his jerkin was, and it had been
a This is ill expreffed, for it only means, he would be more stared at than Strangers are.
Could not but think, to pay his fine was odd,
Or Sloane or Woodward's wondrous fhelves contain, Nay, all that lying Travellers can feign.
The watch would hardly let him pafs at noon,
At night, wou'd swear him dropt out of the Moon.
And the wife Juftice ftarting from his chair
Such was the wight: Th' apparel on his back Tho' coarse, was rev'rend, and tho' bare, was black: The fuit, if by the fashion one might guess, Was velvet in the youth of good Queen Bess, But mere tuff-taffety what now remain'd; So Time, that changes all things, had ordain'd!