In the fame temple which your grandfire built
Making his ftatue privy to the guilt.
Or in a bawdy masquerade are led
Muffled by night to fome polluted bed.
Fat Lateranus does his revels keep
Where his forefathers peaceful ashes fleep;
Driving himself a chariot down the hill,
And (though a conful) links himself the wheel:
To do him justice, 'tis indeed by night,
Yet the moon fees, and every smaller light
Pries as a witness of the shameful fight.
Nay when his year of honour 's ended, foon
He'll leave that nicety, and mount at noon;
Nor blush should he fome grave aquaintance meet,
But, proud of being known, will jerk and greet:
And when his fellow-beafts are weary grown,
He'll play the groom, give oats, and rub them down.
If, after Numa's ceremonial way,

He at Jove's altar would a victim flay,
To no clean goddess he directs his prayers,
But by Hippona moft devoutly fwears,
Or fome rank deity, whofe filthy face
We fuitably o'er ftinking ftables place.

When he has run his length, and does begin
To steer his courfe directly for the inn

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(Where they have watch'd, expecting him all night), A greafy Syrian, ere he can alight,

Prefents him effence, while his courteous hoft

(Well knowing nothing by good-breeding 's loft)

T 3

Tags

Tags ev'ry fentence with fome fawning word,

Such as" My King, My Prince," at least " My Lord;"
And a tight maid, ere he for wine can ask,
Gueffes his meaning, and unoils the flask.
Some, friends to vice, induftriously defend
These innocent diverfions, and pretend
That I the tricks of youth too roughly blame,
Alledging that when young we did the fame.
I grant we did, yet when that age was past,
The frolic humour did no longer laft;

We did not cherish and indulge the crime:
What 's foul in acting, fhould be left in time.
'Tis true, fome faults, of course, with childhood end,
We therefore wink at wags when they offend,

And spare the boy, in hopes the man may mend.
But Lateranus (now his vigorous age

Should prompt him for his country to engage,,
The circuit of our empire to extend,

And all our lives in Cæfar's to defend)
Mature in riots, places his delight

All day in plying bumpers, and at night

Reels to the bawds, over whofe doors are fet

Pictures and bills, with " Here are whores to let."

Should any defperate unexpected fate

Summon all heads and hands to guard the state,

Cæfar, fend quickly to fecure the port;

"But where's the general? where does he resort ?”
Send to the futler's; there y' are sure to find
The bully match'd with rafcals of his kind,

Quacks,

Quacks, coffin-makers; fugitives and failors;

Rooks, common foldiers, hangmen, thieves, and tailors; With Cybele's priefts, who, weary'd with proceffions, Drink there, and sleep with knaves of all profeffions, A friendly gang! each equal to the best;

And all, who can, have liberty to jest :

One flaggon walks the round, that none fhould think
They either change, or stint him of his drink:
And, left exceptions may for place be found,
Their ftools are all alike, their table round.
What think you, Ponticus, yourself might do,
Should flave fo lewd belong to you?

any

No doubt, you'd fend the rogue in fetters bound
To work in Bridewell, or to plough your ground:
But, nobles, you who trace your birth from Troy,
Think, you the great prerogative enjoy

Of doing ill, by virtue of that race;
As if what we efteem in coblers bafe,
Would the high family of Brutus grace.

Shameful are these examples, yet we find
(To Rome's difgrace) far worse than thefe behind;
Poor Damafippus, whom we once have known
Fluttering with coach and fix about the town,
Is forc'd to make the stage his last retreat,
And pawns his voice, the all he has, for meat :
For now he muft (fince his eftate is loft)
Or reprefent, or be himself, a ghoft:

And Lentulus acts hanging with such art,
Were I a judge, he should not feign the part.

T 4

}

Nor

Nor would I their vile infolence acquit,
Who can with patience, nay diversion, fit,
Applauding my lord's buffoonry for wit.
And clapping farces acted by the court,
While the peers cuff, to make the rabble sport :
Or hirelings, at a prize, their fortunes try ;
Certain to fall unpity'd if they die ;

Since none can have the favourable thought
That to obey a tyrant's will they fought,
But that their lives they willingly expofe,
Bought by the Prætors to adorn their shows.

Yet fay, the stage and lifts were both in sight,
And you muft either choose to act, or fight;
Death never fure bears fuch a ghastly shape,
That a rank coward bafely would escape
By playing a foul harlot's jealous tool,
Or a feign'd Andrew to a real fool.
Yet a peer actor is no monstrous thing,
Since Rome has own'd a fidler for a king:
After fuch pranks, the world itself at best
May be imagin'd nothing but a jest.

Go to the lifts where feats of arms are shown,
There you'll find Gracchus (from patrician) grown
A fencer and the fcandal of the town.

Nor will he the Mirmillo's weapons bear,
The modeft helmet he difdains to wear;
As Retiarius he attacks his foe;

First waves his trident ready for the throw,

}

}

Next cafts his net, but neither level'd right,
He stares about expos'd to public fight,
Then places all his fafety in his flight.
Room for the noble gladiator! See
His coat and hatband fhew his quality.
Thus when at last the brave Mirmillo knew
'Twas Gracchus was the wretch he did purfue,
To conquer fuch a coward griev'd him more,
Than if he many glorious wounds had bore.

Had we the freedom to exprefs our mind,
There's not a wretch fo much to vice inclin'd,
But will own, Seneca did far excel

His pupil, by whose tyranny he fell :
To expiate whose complicated guilt,

With fome proportion to the blood he spilt,

Rome should more ferpents, apes, and facks provide,
Than one for the compendious parricide.

'Tis true, Oreftes a like crime did act;

Yet weigh the cause, there's difference in the fact:
He flew his mother at the gods' command,
They bid him strike, and did direct his hand;
To punish falfhood, and appease the ghost
Of his poor father treacherously loft,
Juft in the minute when the flowing bowl
With a full tide enlarg'd his chearful foul.
Yet kill'd he not his fifter, or his wife,
Nor aim'd at any near relation's life;
Oreftes, in the heat of all his rage,
Ne'er play'd or fung upon a public stage;

Never