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To a poor Hut, from which no Slave, if clean,
To issue 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

j Vertumnus fure presided at his Birth.

When Volanerius, long a Slave to Vice,
With sjuftly-crippled Hands could throw the Dice
No more, he then retain'd a Boy in Pay;
Less wretched he, to Vice a constant Prey,
Than varying Prifcus, ftill oblig'd to swim,
As Passion led, against or with the Stream.

HORACE.
In all this Jargon, Rascal, what's thy View ?
To whom dost thou apply it ? Speak.
DAVUS.

To You.
HORACE.
To Me, vile Rogue! Explain,

DAVUS.

You often praise
The simple frugal Fare of former Days;
But if some God should bid you freely chuse,
That Boon, if proffer’d, you would strait refuse :
At such wide Variance are your Tongue and Heart!
Or else, unus'd to play à virtuous Part,
Amidst your Course you form some vain Delay,
Beyond Escape immers’d in sensual Clay.
Reme in the Country all your Thoughts employs;
But when at Rome, you long for rural Joys.

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When uninvited to a fumptuous Treat, “ How bleft is Solitude, and Herbs how sweet!” Then Drinking you detest, and Home applaud, As if by Choice you never supp'd abroad. But should Mecenas send to bid you hafte At Close of Day-light, to a rich Repast, The whole House echoes, while enrag'd you cry, 6 Does no one hear me? For the Essence fly!” Mulvius, and other Drolls, deny'd their Meal, Sneak home, with Curses dangerous to reveal. Should I be told,“Your Paunch too seems to swell; “ For favoury Sauce fagacious is your Smell ; “ Unmindful of your Business, all the Day “ You waste in Sloth, or Negligence, or Play ; “ Nay more, you haunt the Tavern"-In Reply I own my Guilt, nor can the Charge deny. But should 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 varnish'd by a specious 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 Crispinus' Gate.

(pursue. You tempt your Neighbour's Wife; I Whores

; Say, whish most Blame deserves in Reason's View?

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MyFlame once quench’d, content I quit the Stews;
No Fears have I, no Character to lose,
Nor care if one of greater Wealth, or Charms,
Should take my hireling Mistress to his Arms.
But when, your Dress unnotic'd and unknown,
Laying aside 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 Fearsome Matron's Room,
That Slave are you, whose Habit you assume.
For what's the Difference, on the public Stage
Aflur'd of Wounds or Bruises, to engage,
Or by the Maid, bent double, to be thrust
Into a Chest, the Slave of lordly Luft?
Husbands with just Revenge may both pursue,
But to the Tempter 'tis most justly due.
Unchang'd the Dress and Lodging of the Fair,
Her injur’d Partner’s Vengeance you must bear
With tame Submission for your Mistress' sake,
Your Freedom, Fame, Eftate, nay, Life at stake.
By frequent Warnings wife, now safe on Shore
You'll surely tempt the stormy Deep no more.
Yes, still you'll venture, by blind Passion led,
And Dangers ftill muft hover o'er your Head.
Thou oft-returning Slave! what Beast again
Will e'er submit to take his broken Chain ?

« I'm no Adulterer,” perhaps you'll cry;
And “ Davus is no Robber," I reply ;
VOL. III.

L

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Since I my Thefts as cautiously conceal,
And sumptuous Silver Vases never steal :
But once fecure from Punishment and Fear,
Nature will soon resume her wild Career.
He who rules others, should himself be free;
Can

you, thus prov'd a Slave, be Lord to Me? And though the Prætor's Wand should touch

your Head, You still, like me, would shake with servile Dread.

Add, which still heavier in the Scale muft weigh, If, as is usual, all the rest obey One Master-Slave, what then to Me are you? That Master-Slave : You govern Me, 'tis true, But are yourself ensay'd by wild Desires, A 8 very Puppet, moy'd with Springs and Wires.

HORACE. Who then is free?

DAVUS.

The Wife ; for he maintains An Empire o'er himself; him neither Chains, Nor Want, nor Death dishearten; he subdues Rebellious Luíts; with Scorn Ambition views ; And, 9 in himself collected, smooth 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 alks ; deny'd, the

Gate
She shuts upon you, and a Jorden's Freight

Discharges

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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 Pausias' Pictures praise,
Do you less Blame deserve than I, who gaze
With stupid 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, whose curious Eye
Can all the Beauties of Antiques descry.

If a hot smoking Pye attracts your Slave, , You strait revile him as a greedy Knave; "But your strict Virtue and superior Taste Despise the Dainties of a nice Repast. From my luxurious Throat what Ills ensue? Look on my Back! behold it, black and blue ! But how are you lefs punish'd, when you boast How vast a Price your far-fetch'd Dainties cost? Qualms and Diseales 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, Whose Lands and Farms in Feasting melt away?

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