This Snuff-box,-on the Hinge fee Brilliants shine!
This Snuff-box will I ftake; the Prize is mine.

CARDELIA.

Alas! far leffer loffes than I bear,

Have made a Soldier figh, a Lover fwear.

And oh! what makes the difappointment hard,
'Twas my own Lord that drew the fatal Card.
In Complaifance, I took the Queen he gave;
Though my own fecret wifh was for the Knave.
The Knave won Sonica, which I had chose;
And the next Pull, my Septleva I lofe.

SMILINDA.

But ah! what aggravates the killing fmart,
The cruel thought, that ftabs me to the heart;
This curs'd Ombrelia, this undoing Fair,
By whofe vile arts this heavy grief I bear;

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She, at whofe name I fhed these spiteful tears,

She owes to me the very charms she wears.

An aukward Thing, when first she came to Town;
Her Shape unfashion'd, and her Face unknown:
She was my friend; I taught her firft to spread
Upon her fallow cheeks enlivening red:
I introduc'd her to the Park and Plays;
And by my intereft, Cozens made her Stays.
Ungrateful wretch, with mimic airs grown pert,
She dares to fteal my Favourite Lover's heart!

CARDELIA.

Wretch that I was! how often have I swore,
When Winnall tally'd, I would punt no more!
I know the Bite, yet to my Ruin run;
And fee the Folly, which I cannot shun.

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SMILINDA.

SMILINDA.

How many Maids have Sharper's vows deceiv'd! 'How many curs'd the moment they believ'd! Yet his known Falfehoods could no Warning prove: Ah! what is Warning to a Maid in Love?

CARDELIA.

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But of what marble must that breast be form'd, To gaze on Baffet, and remain unwarm'd? When Kings, Queens, Knaves, are set in decent rank; Expos'd in glorious heaps the tempting Bank, Guineas, Half-guineas, all the fhining train; The Winner's pleasure, and the Lofer's pain: In bright Confusion open Rouleaus lie, They ftrike the Soul, and glitter in the Eye. Fir'd by the fight, all reafon I difdain; My Paffions rife, and will not bear the rein. Look upon Baffet, you who reafon boast; And fee if reafon must not there be lost.

SMILINDA.

What more than marble must that heart compose, Can hearken coldly to my Sharper's Vows?

Then, when he trembles! when his Blufhes rife!

When awful Love feems melting in his Eyes!
With eager beats his Mechlin Cravat moves:
He loves, I whisper to myself, he loves!
Such unfeign'd Paffion in his looks appears,

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I lose my Memory of my former Fears;
My panting heart confeffes all his charms,
I yield at once, and fink into his arms.

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Think of that moment, you who Prudence boast;
For fuch a moment, Prudence well were loft.

CARDELIA.

At the Groom-Porter's, batter'd Bullies play, Some Dukes at Marybone bowl Time away. But who the Bowl, or rattling Dice compares To Baffet's heavenly Joys, and pleafing Cares?

SMILINDA.

Soft Simplicetta doats upon a Beau; Prudina likes a Man, and laughs at Show. Their feveral graces in my Sharper meet; Strong as the Footman, as the Master sweet.

LOVET.

Cease your contention, which has been too long;
I grow impatient, and the Tea 's too strong.
Attend, and yield to what I now decide;
The Equipage shall grace Smilinda's Side:
The Snuff-box to Cardelia I decree;
Now leave complaining, and begin your Tea.

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VERBATIM FROM BOILEAU.

UN JOUR, DIT UN AUTEUR, &C.

NCE (fays an Author, where I need not say)

Both fierce, both hungry; the Difpute grew ftrong,
While Scale in hand Dame Juftice pafs'd along.
Before her each with clamour pleads the Laws,
Explain'd the matter, and would win the cause.
Dame Justice weighing long the doubtful Right,
Takes, opens, swallows.it, before their fight.
The cause of strife remov'd fo rarely well,
There take (fays Juftice) take you each a Shell.
We thrive at Weftminster on Fools like you:
'Twas a fat Oyfter-Live in peace-Adieu.

ANSWER to the following Queftion of Mrs. Howe.

HAT IS PRUDERY?

WHAT

'Tis a Beldam,

Seen with Wit and Beauty seldom.

'Tis a fear that starts at shadows.
"Tis (no, 'tis n't)) like Mifs Meadows.
"Tis a Virgin hard of Feature,
Old, and void of all good-nature;
Lean and fretful; would seem wife;
Yet plays the fool before fhe dies.
'Tis an ugly, envious Shrew,
That rails at dear Lepell and You.

Occafioned

Occafioned by fome Verfes of his Grace the Duke of BUCKINGHAM.

MUSE

USE, 'tis enough at length thy labour ends,
And thou shalt live, for Buckingham commends.

Let Crowds of Critics now my verse affail,

Let Dennis write, and nameless numbers rail:
This more than pays whole years of thankless pain,`
Time, health, and fortune, are not lost in vain.
Sheffield approves, confenting Phoebus bends,
And I and Malice from this hour are friends.

A PROLOGUE

BY MR. POPE,

To a Play for Mr. DENNIS'S Benefit, in 1733, when he was old, blind, and in great Diftrefs, a little before his Death.

S when that Hero, who in each Campaign

A Had brav'd the Goth, and many a Vandal slain,

Lay Fortune-ftruck, a fpectacle of Woe!

Wept by each Friend, forgiv'n by every Foe:
Was there a generous, a reflecting mind,

5

But pitied Belifarius old and blind?

Was there a Chief but melted at the Sight?

A common Soldier, but who clubb'd his Mite?

Such