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A 6 Prætor now (a Scribe before)
The purple-border'd Robe he wore;
His Slave the smoking Cenfer bore.
Tir'd, at Murana's we repofe
At 7 Formia; fup at Capito's.

With Smiles the rifing Morn we greet;
At 8 Sinueffa pleas'd to meet

With 9 Plotius, Varius, and the * Bard,
Whom Mantua firft with Wonder heard.
The World no purer Spirits knows,
For none my Heart more warmly glows.
Oh! what Embraces we beftow'd,
And with what Joy our Breafts o'erflow'd!
Sure, while my Senfe is found and clear,
Long as I live, I fhall prefer

A gay, good-natur'd, eafy Friend
To every Bleffing Heaven can fend!
At a fmall Village, the next Night,
Near the Vulturnus, we alight;
Where, as employ'd on State-Affairs,.
We were fupply'd by the 10 Purveyors
Frankly at once, and without Hire,
With Food for Man and Horfe, and Fire.
11 Capua, next Day, betimes we reach,
Where Virgil and myself, who each
Labour'd with different Maladies,
His fuch a Stomach, mine fuch Eyes,
As would not bear ftrong Exercise,

* VIRGIL.

}

In drowsy Mood to Sleep refort;

Mecenas to the Tennis-court.

Next at Cocceius' Farm we're treated,
Above the Caudian Tavern feated;
His kind and hospitable Board

With Choice of wholefome Fare was ftor'd.
Now, O ye Nine, inspire my Lays;
To nobler Themes my Fancy raise !
Two Combatants, who scorn to yield
The noify Tongue-difputed Field,
Sarmentus, and Cicirrus, claim
A Poet's Tribute to their Fame.

Cici rus, of true 12 Ofcian Breed;
Sarmentus, who was never freed,
But ran away; we don't defame him;
His Lady lives, and ftill may claim him.
Thus dignify'd, in hardy Fray

Thefe Champions their keen Wit display;
And first Sarmentus led the Way:

Thy Locks, quoth he, fo rough and coarse, 'Look like the Mane of fome wild Horse.' We laugh.---Cicirrus, undifmay'd,

Have at yo,' cries; and thakes his Head.--'Tis well, Sarmentus fays, you've loft

That Horn, your Forehead once could boast, • Since, maim'd and mangled as you are, "You seem to butt.'---A hideous Scar Improv'd, 'tis true, with double Grace The native Horrors of his Face.

Well,

Well, after much jocofely faid

Of his grim Front, fo fiery red,
For Carbuncles had blotch'd it o'er,
As ufual on Campania's Shore;

'Give us, he cry'd, fince you're so big,
A Sample of the Cyclops' Jig ;

Your Shanks, methinks, no Bufkins afk,
Nor does your Phyz require a Mask.'
To this Cicirrus: In return,

Of you, Sir, now I fain would learn
When 'twas (no longer deem'd a Slave)
Your Chains you to the Lares gave?
For though a Scrivener's Right you claim,
"Your Lady's Title is the fame.

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But what could make you run away ?

Since, Pygmy as you are, each Day

'A fingle Pound of Bread would quite

'O'erpower your puny Appetite.'

Thus jok'd the Champions, while we laugh'd, And many a chearful Bumper quaff'd. To 3 Beneventum next we fteer, Where our good Hoft, by over-care In roafting Thrufhes, lean as Mice, Had almost fall'n a Sacrifice. The Kitchen foon was all on Fire, And to the Roof the Flames afpire. There might you fee each Man and Master Striving, amidst this fad Disaster,

To

To fave the Supper---then they came
With Speed enough to quench the Flame.
From hence we firft at Distance fee
Th' Apulian Hills, well known to Me,
Parch'd by the fultry Western Blast,
And which we never fhould have past,
Had not Trivicus, by the Way,
Receiv'd us at the Clofe of Day:
But each was forc'd, at entering here,
To pay the Tribute of a Tear;
For more of Smoke than Fire was feen,
The Hearth was pil'd with Logs fo green.
From hence in Chaifes we were carry'd
Miles twenty-four, and gladly tarry'd
At a fmail + Town, whofe Name Verfe
my
(So barbarous is it!) can't rehearse.
Know it you may by many a Sign;
Water is dearer far than Wine;
Their Bread is deem'd fuch dainty Fare,
That every prudent Traveller

His Wallet loads with many a Cruft;
For, at 14 Canufium, you might just
As well attempt to gnaw a Stone,
As think to get one Morfel down.
That too with fcanty Streams is fed:
Its Founder was brave Diomed.

Good Varius (ah! that Friends muft part!)
Here left us all with aching Heart.

* A Village fo called. + Equotuticum.

At

At 15 Rubi we arriv'd that Day,

Well jaded by the Length of Way;
And fure poor Mortals ne'er were wetter.
Next Day, no Weather could be better,
No Roads fo bad; we fcarce could crawl
Along to fishy 16 Barium's Wall.

17 Th' Egnatians next, who, by the Rules.
Of Common-fenfe, are Knaves or Fools,
Made all our Sides with Laughter heave;
Since we with them muft needs believe
That 18 Incense in their Temples burns,
And, without Fire, to Afhes turns.
To Circumcifion's Bigots tell

Such Tales. For Me, I know full well
20 That in high Heaven, unmov'd by Care,
The Gods eternal Quiet fhare;

21 Nor can I deem their Spleen the Caufe
Why fickle Nature breaks her Laws.

22

Brundufium last we reach, and there

Stop fhort the Mufe and Traveller.

NOTE S.

Among the Negotiations Hiftory diftinguishes two; Mecenas took Horace with

Octavius and Antony, both aspiring to absolute Power, frequently quarrelled. Their keconciliation was never lafting, because never fincere fet on foot for that Purpose, one in 714, the other in 717. him to this fecond Conference, which was at first held at Brundupum, and afterwards concluded at Tarentum, by the Mediation of Octavia. That Journey gave Occafion. to this Satire, which is a Malter-piece, in its kind. It

has

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