The little Blood that creeps within his Veins,
Is but juft warm'd in a hot Fever's Pains.
In fine, he wears no Limb about him found:
With Sores and Sickneffes beleaguer'd round:
Ask me their Names, I fooner could relate
How many Drudges on Salt Hippia wait;
What Crouds of Patients the Town Doctor kills,
Or how, laft Fall, he rais'd the Weekly Bills.
What Provinces by Bafilus were spoil'd,
What Herds of Heirs by Guardians are beguil'd:
How many Bouts a-day that Bitch has try❜d;
How many Boys that Pedagogue can ride!
What Lands and Lordships for their Owner know
My Quondam Barber, but his Worfhip now.

This Dotard of his Broken Back complains,
One his Legs fail, and one his Shoulders pains:
Another is of both his Eyes bereft;

And envies who has one for Aiming left.
A Fifth, with trembling Lips expecting stands,
As in his Childhood, cramm'd by others Hands;
One, who at fight of Supper open'd wide
His Jaws before, and whetted Grinders try'd;
Now only yawns, and waits to be fupply'd:
Like a young Swallow, when with weary Wings
Expected Food her fafting Mother brings.

His lofs of Members is a heavy Curse,
But all his Faculties decay'd, a worse!
His Servants Names he has forgotten quite;

I

Knows not his Friend who fupp'd with him laft Night,
Not ev❜n the Children, he Begot and Bread;
Or his Will knows 'em not: For, in their ftead,
In form of Law, a common Hackney Jade,
Sole Heir, for fecret Services, is made:
So lewd and fuch a batter'd Brothel Whore,
That the defies all Comers, at her Door.

H5

}

Well,

Well, yet fuppofe his Senfes are his own,
He lives to be chief Mourner for his Son:
Before his Face his Wife and Brother burns;
He numbers all his Kindred in their Urns.
These are the Fines he pays for living long;
And dragging tedious Age in his own wrong:
Griefs always Green, a Houfhold ftill in Tears,
Sad Pomps: A Threshold throng'd with daily Biers;
And Liveries of Black for length of Years.

Next to the Raven's Age, the Pylian 12 King
Was longeft liv'd of any two-legg'd Thing;
Bleft, to defraud the Grave fo long, to mount
His 13 number'd Years, and on his right-hand count;
Three hundred Seasons, guzling Muft of Wine:
But, hold a while, and hear himself repine

At Fate's Unequal Laws; and at the Cluc

Which, 14 merciless in length, the midmost Sister drew.
When his Brave Son upon the Fun'ral Pyre
He faw extended, and his Beard on Fire;

He turn'd, and weeping, ask'd his Friends, what Crime
Had curs'd his Age to this unhappy Time?
Thus mourn'd Old Peleus for Achilles flain,
And thus Ulyffes' Father did complain.
How fortunate an End had Priam made,
Among his Ancestors a mighty Shade,

12 Neftor King of Pylus ; who was 300 Years old, according to Homer's Account, ar leaft, as he is understood by his Expofitors.

to exprefs all greater Numbers.

14 The Fates were three sifters, who had all fome pesuJiar Bufinefs affign'd them by 13 The Ancients counted the Poets, in relation to the by their Fingers. Their Left Lives of Men. The Firft held Hands ferv'd 'em 'till theythe Distaff; the Second fpun came up to an Hundred. Af the Thread; and the Third ter that they us’d the Right, | cur it.

3

While Troy yet ftood: When Hector with the Race
Of Royal Bastards might his Fun'ral grace:
Amidst the Tears of Trojan Dames inurn'd,
And by his Loyal Daughters truly mourn'd!
Had Heav'n fo bleft him, he had dy'd before
The fatal Fleet to Sparta Paris bore.
But mark what Age produc'd; he liv'd to fee
His Town in Flames, his falling Monarchy:
In fine, the feeble Sire, reduc'd by Fate,
To change his Scepter for a Sword, too late,
His 15 laft Effort before Jove's Altar tries;
A Soldier half, and half a Sacrifice:

Falls like an Ox, that waits the coming Blow;
Old and unprofitable to the Plough.

At 16 leaft, he dy'd a Man, his Queen furviv'd,
To howl, and in a Barking Body liv'd.

I haften to our own; nor will relate
Great 17 Mithridates, and Rich 18 Croesus' Fate;
Whom Solon wifely Counsell'd to attend
The Name of Happy, till he knew his End.

Is Whilft Troy was Sacking by the Greeks, Old King Priam is faid to have Buckled on his Armour, to oppofe 'em. Which he had no fooner done, but he was met by Pyrrhus, and flain before the Temple of Jupiter, in his own Palace, as we have the Story finely told, in Virgil's 28 Æneid.

17 Mithridates, after he had! difputed the Empire of the World for 40 Years together with the Romans, was at laft depriv'd of Life and Empire by Pompey the Great.

18 Crafus, in the midst of his Profperity, making his Boaft to Solon, how happy he was, receiv'd this Anfwer from the Wife Man, That no One could pronounce

16 Hecuba, his Queen, efcaped the Swords of the Grecians, and out-liv'd him. Ithimfelf Happy, 'till he faw feems, fhe behaved her felf fo what his End fhould be. The fiercely and une fily to her Truth of this Crafus found, Husband's Murderers while when he was put in Chains the lived, that the Poets By Cyrus, and condemned to thought fir to turn her into a die. Bitch, when the dy'd,

That

That Marius was an Exile, that he fled,
Was ta'en, in Ruin'd Carthage begg'd his Bread,
All these were owing to a Life too long:
For whom had Rome beheld fo Happy, young!
High in His Chariot, and with Lawrel Crown'd,
When he had led the Cimbrian Captives round
The Roman Streets; defcending from his State,
In that bleft Hour he fhould have begg'd his Fate;
Then, then, he might have dy'd of all admir'd,
And his triumphant Soul with Shouts expir❜d.

Campania, 19 Fortune's Malice to prevent,
To Pompey an indulgent Favour fent:
But publick Pray'rs impos'd on Heav'n, to give
Their much-lov'd Leader an unkind Reprieve.
The City's Fate and his confpir'd to fave
The Head, referv'd for an Egyptian Slave.
Cethegus, 20 though a Traytor to the State,
And tortur'd, 'fcap'd this Ignominious Fate:
And Sergius, who a bad Caufe bravely try'd,
All of a Piece, and undiminish'd, dy'd.

To Venus, the fond Mother makes a Pray'r, That all her Sons and Daughters may be Fair: True, for the Boys a mumbling Vow the fends; But for the Girls, the vaulted Temple rends: They must be finifh'd Pieces: 'Tis allow'd Diana's Beauty made Latona Proud:

19 Pompey, in the midst of his Glory, fell into a dangerous Fit of Sicknefs, at Naples. A great many Cities then made publiek Supplications for him. He recovered, was beabeaten at Pharfalia, fed to Prolomy King of Agpt; and inftead of receiving Protection |

at his Court, had his Head ftruck off by his Order, to please Cafar.

23 Cethegus was one that confpir'd with Catiline, and was put to Death by the Se

nate.

21 Catiline dy'd Fighting.

And

And pleas'd, to fee the wondring People pray
To the New-rifing Sifter of the Day.

And yet Lucretia's Fate wou'd bar that Vow:
And Fair 22 Virginia wou'd her Fate bestow
On Rutila; and change her Faultlefs Make
For the foul Rumple of her Camel-back.

But, for his Mother's Boy, the Beau, what Frights
His Parents have by Day, what anxious Nights!
Form join'd with Virtue is a Sight too rare:
Chafte is no Epithet to fuit with Fair.
Suppose the fame Traditionary Strain
Of Rigid Manners, in the House remain;
Inveterate Truth, an old plain Sabine's Heart;
Suppofe that Nature, too, has done her part;
Infus'd into his Soul a fober Grace,

And blusht a modeft Blood into his Face
(For Nature is a better Guardian far,
Than fawcy Pedants, or dull Tutors are:)
Yet ftill the Youth must ne'er arrive at Man;
(So much Almighty Bribes, and Prefents, can:)
Ev'n with a Parent, where Preswasions fail,
Money is impudent, and will prevail.

We never read of fuch a Tyrant King
Who gelt a Boy deform'd, to hear him Sing.
Nor Nero, in his more luxurious Rage,
E'er made a Miftrefs of an ugly Page:
Sporus, his Spouse, nor crooked was, nor lame,
With mountain Back, and Belly, from the Game
Crofs-barr'd: But both his Sexes well became.

22 Virginia was kill'd by her own Father, to prevent her being exposed to the Luft of Appius Claudius, who had ill Defigns upon her. The Story at large is in Livy's Third

}

Book; and 'tis a remarkable one, as it gave occafion to the putting down the Power of the Decemviri; of whom Appins was one

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