The Champion too! and, to complete the jest,
Old Edward's Armour beams on Cibber's breast.
With f laughter fure Democritus had dy'd,
Had he beheld an Audience gape fo wide.
Let Bear or Elephant be e'er fo white,
The people, fure, the people are the fight!
Ah lucklefsh Poet! ftretch thy lungs and roar,
That Bear or Elephant fhall heed thee more;
While all its throats the Gallery extends,

i

And all the Thunder of the Pit afcends!

Loud as the Wolves, on Orcas' ftormy steep,
Howl to the roarings of the Northern deep.
Such is the shout, the long-applauding note,
At Quin's high plume, or Oldfield's ' petticoat;
Or when from Court a birth-day fuit bestow'd,
Sinks them loft Actor in the tawdry load.
Booth enters-hark! the Universal peal!
"But has he spoken ?" Not a fyllable.

320

325

330

335

What shook the stage, and made the people stare?

" Cato's long Wig, flow'r'd gown, and lacquer'd chair. Yet left you think I railly more than teach, Or praise malignly Arts I cannot reach,

NOTES.

contention, the Armour of one of the Kings of England was borrowed from the Tower, to drefs the Champion. P. VER. 328. Orcas' ftormy steep] The fartheft Northern Promontory of Scotland, oppofite to the Orcades. P.

Ille per extentum funem mihi poffe videtur

Ire poeta; meum qui pectus inaniter angit,

Irritat, mulcet, falfis terroribus implet,

Ut magus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.

? Verum age, et his, qui se lectori credere malunt,

Quam fpectatoris faftidia ferre fuperbi,

Curam impende brevem: fi munus Apolline dignam

Vis complere libris; et vatibus addere calcar,

Ut ftudio majore petant Helicona virentem.

.. Multa quidem nobis facimus mala faepe poetae,

(Ut vineta egomet caedam mea) cum tibi librum

t

• Solicito damus, aut fesso: cum laedimur, * unum

NOTES.

VER. 347. To Thebes, to Athens, etc.] i. e. is equally knowing in the manners of the most different people; and has the kill to employ those manners with decorum.

Let me for once prefume t'inftruct the times,
To know the Poet from the Man of rhymes:

340

345

'Tis he, who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me feel each Paffion that he feigns;
Inrage, compofe, with more than magic Art,
With Pity, and with Terror, tear my heart;
And fnatch me, o'er the earth, or thro' the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
P But not this part of the Poetic state
Alone, deferves the favour of the Great:
Think of thofe Authors, Sir, who would rely
More on a Reader's fenfe, than Gazer's eye.
Or who fhall wander where the Mufes fing?
Who climb their mountain, or who tafte their spring?
How fhall we fill 9 a Library with Wit,

When Merlin's Cave is half unfurnish'd yet?

350

355

My Liege! why Writers little claim your thought,

I guess; and, with their leave, will tell the fault :
We Poets are (upon a Poet's word)

Of all mankind, the creatures most absurd:

The feafon, when to come, and when to go, 360 To fing, or ceafe to fing, we never know;

NOTES.

VER. 354. a Library] Munus Apolline dignum. The Balatine Library then building by Auguftus. P.

VER. 355. Merlin's Cave] A Building in the Royal Garden of Richmond, where is a fmal', but choice Collection of Books. P.

Si quis amicorum eft aufus reprendere versum :

V

Cum loca jam recitata revolvimus irrevocati:

Cum lamentamur non apparere labores

Noftros, et tenui deducta poemata fila;

Cum fperamus eo rem venturam, ut, fimul atque

Carmina refcieris nos fingere, commodus ultro
Arceffas, et egere vetes, et fcribere cogas.

y

Sed tamen eft operae precium cognofcere, quales Aedituos habeat belli fpectata domique

Virtus, indigno non committenda poetae.

a Gratus Alexandro regi Magnò fuit ille Choerilus, incultis qui verfibus et male natis Rettulit acceptos, regale numifma, Philippos.

P

Sed veluti tractata notam labemque remittunt
Atramenta, fere fcriptores carmine føedo
Splendida facta linunt. idem rex ille, poema
Qui tam ridiculum tam care prodigus emit,
Edicto vetuit, ne quis fe praeter Apellem

Pingeret, aut alius Lyfippo duceret aera

b

Fortis Alexandri vultum fimulantia. quod fi
Judicium fubtile videndis artibus illud

Ad libros et ad haec Mufarum dona vocares;
• Boeotum in craffo jurares aere natum,

And if we will recite nine hours in ten,

You lofe your patience, juft like other men.
Then too we hurt ourselves, when to defend

V

A 'fingle verfe, we quarrel with a friend;
Repeat unafk'd; lament, the Wit's too fine
For vulgar eyes, and point out ev'ry line.
But moft, when ftraining with too weak a wing,
We needs will write Epiftles to the King;

x

And from the moment we oblige the town,
Expect a place, or penfion from the Crown;
Or dubb'd Historians by express command,
T'enroll your triumphs o'er the feas and land,
Be call'd to Court to plan fome work divine,
As once for LOUIS, Boileau and Racine.

365

370

375

Yet think, great Sir! (fo many Virtues shown) Ah think, what Poet beft may make them known? Or chufe at least some Minister of Grace, Fit to beftow the Laureat's weighty place.

a Charles, to late times to be tranfmitted fair, 380 Affign'd his figure to Bernini's care;

And great Naffau to Kneller's hand decreed

To fix him graceful on the bounding Steed;

So well in paint and ftone they judg'd of merit :
But Kings in Wit may want difcerning Spirit. 385
The Hero William, and the Martyr Charles,
One knighted Blackmore, and one penfion'd Quarles;
Which made old Ben, and furly Dennis fwear,
"No Lord's anointed, but a Ruffian Bear.

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