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To a poor Hut, from which no Slave, if clean,
To iffue forth could decently be seen.
Now, with the Learned, Athens was his Home,
And now with Harlots he would live at Rome;
The fickleft he of all the Sons of Earth ;
Vertumnus fure prefided at his Birth.
When Volanerius, long a Slave to Vice,
With 5 juftly-crippled Hands could throw the Dice
No more, he then retain'd a Boy in Pay;
Lefs wretched he, to Vice a conftant Prey,
Than varying Prifcus, ftill oblig'd to fwim,
As Paffion led, against or with the Stream.
In all this Jargon, Rascal, what's thy View?
To whom dost thou apply it? Speak.
The fimple frugal Fare of former Days;
But if fome God fhould bid you freely chufe,
That Boon, if proffer'd, you would strait refuse:
At fuch wide Variance are your Tongue and Heart!
Or elfe, unus'd to play a virtuous Part,
Amidft your Course you form fome vain Delay,
Beyond Escape immers'd in fenfual Clay.
Rome in the Country all your Thoughts employs ;
But when at Rome, you long for rural Joys.
When uninvited to a fumptuous Treat,
"How bleft is Solitude, and Herbs how sweet!" Then Drinking you deteft, and Home applaud, As if by Choice you never fupp'd abroad. But fhould Mecenas fend to bid you hafte At Clofe of Day-light, to a rich Repast, The whole Houfe echoes, while enrag'd you cry, "Does no one hear me? For the Effence fly!" Mulvius, and other Drolls, deny'd their Meal, Sneak home, with Curfes dangerous to reveal. Should I be told," YourPaunch too seems to fwell; "For favoury Sauce fagacious is your Smell; "Unmindful of your Business, all the Day "You wafte in Sloth, or Negligence, or Play; "Nay more, you haunt the Tavern"-In Reply I own my Guilt, nor can the Charge deny. But' fhould I prove, that you like me behave, Or worse, are more a Spendthrift, more a Slave, Whence then your Right to punish, or to blame? Can Vice be varnifh'd by a fpecious Name? Nay, what if you should far more mad be thought Than that vile Slave whom for twelve Pounds you bought?
Restrain your Rage, that furious Brow unbend, With-hold your Hand, and seriously attend, While I these falutary Truths relate,
Taught by the 6 Porter of Crifpinus' Gate.
[pursue. You tempt your Neighbour's Wife; I Whores Say, which moft Blame deferves in Reason's View?
MyFlame once quench'd, content I quit the Stews;
No Fears have I, no Character to lofe,
Nor care if one of greater Wealth, or Charms,
Should take my hireling Mistress to his Arms.
But when, your Drefs unnotic'd and unknown,
Laying afide your Ring and purple Gown,
Your Face is muffled in a Cloak's Disguise,
And 7 a Slave's Garb the effenc'd Judge belies,
Ent'ring with Hope and Fear fome Matron's Room,
That Slave are you, whofe Habit you affume.
For what's the Difference, on the public Stage
Affur'd of Wounds or Bruifes, to engage,
Or by the Maid, bent double, to be thrust
Into a Cheft, the Slave of lordly Luft?
Husbands with juft Revenge may both pursue,
But to the Tempter 'tis most justly due.
Unchang'd the Drefs and Lodging of the Fair,
Her injur❜d Partner's Vengeance you must bear
With tame Submiffion for your Miftrefs' fake,
Your Freedom, Fame, Eftate, nay, Life at stake.
By frequent Warnings wife, now fafe on Shore
You'll furely tempt the ftormy Deep no more.
Yes, ftill you'll venture, by blind Paffion led,
And Dangers ftill muft hover o'er your Head.
Thou oft-returning Slave! what Beast again
Will e'er fubmit to take his broken Chain?
"I'm no Adulterer," perhaps you'll cry;
And "Davus is no Robber," I reply;
Since I my Thefts as cautioufly conceal,
And fumptuous Silver Vafes never steal:
But once fecure from Punishment and Fear,
Nature will foon rèfume her wild Career.
He who rules others, fhould himself be free;
Can you, thus prov'd a Slave, be Lord to Me?
And though the Prætor's Wand should touch your
You ftill, like me, would shake with fervile Dread.
Add, which still heavier in the Scale muft weigh,
If, as is ufual, all the reft obey
One Master-Slave, what then to Me are you? That Mafter-Slave: You govern Me, 'tis true, But are yourself enflav'd by wild Defires,
A & very Puppet, mov'd with Springs and Wires. HORACE.
The Wife; for he maintains An Empire o'er himself; him neither Chains, Nor Want, nor Death difhearten; he fubdues Rebellious Lufts; with Scorn Ambition views; And, 9 in himfelf collected, fmooth and round, From his firm Mind all Fortune's Shafts rebound. View well the Piece, and then you must declare, That of yourself you trace no Likeness there. Your Wench 10 five Talents afks; deny'd, the
She shuts upon you, and a Jorden's Freight
Discharges on your Shoulders; then again
She mildly courts you to resume her, Chain.
Now, now your Neck from this vile Bondage free,
And let your Actions with your Words agree!
Ah! no; your Mind a lawless Lord' enthralls,
Who, if you stop, your Side 11 relentless galls.
When you with Rapture 12 Paufias' Pictures praife,
Do you lefs Blame deserve than I, who gaze
With ftupid Wonder on a Sign, which shows,
How Gladiators give and parry Blows,
With Coal and Oker daub'd, and void of Rule!
But Davus is a Dolt, an idle Fool,
And you a Man of Taste, whofe curious Eye
Can all the Beauties of Antiques defcry.
If a hot smoking Pye attracts your Slave,
You ftrait revile him as a greedy Knave;
But your ftrict Virtue and superior Taste
Defpife the Dainties of a nice Repast.
From my luxurious Throat what Ills enfue?
Look on my Back! behold it, black and blue!
But how are you lefs punish'd, when you boaft
How vaft a Price your far-fetch'd Dainties coft?
Qualms and Diseases lurk beneath each Plate,
And the Legs totter with the Body's Weight,
Say, if a Boy just Chastisement receives,
Who, in Return for Grapes delicious, gives
A Curry-comb just stol'n, what Slaves are they,
Whofe Lands and Farms in Feafting melt away?