I rank him with the Prodigies of Fame,
With Plough'd-up Fishes, and with Icy Flame;
"With Things which start from Nature's common Rules With Bearded Infants, and with Teeming Mules: As much amaz'd at the prodigious Sign,
As if I faw 4 Bees clufter'd on a Shrine;
A Show'r of Stones, or Rivers chang'd to Blood
Rowl wond'rous Waves, or urge a Milky Flood,
IX.
A little Sum you Mourn, while Most have met
With twice the Lofs, and by as Vile a Cheat:
By treacherous Friends, and fecret Truft betray'd,
Some are undone; nor are the Gods our Aid.
Thofe Conscious Powers we can with Ease contemn,
If hid from Men, we truft our Crimes with them.
Obferve the Wretch who hath his Faith forfook,
How clear his Voice, and how affur'd his Look!
Like Innocence, and as ferenely bold
As Truth, how loudly He forfwears thy Gold!
By Neptune's Trident, by the Bolts of Jove,
And all the Magazine of Wrath above.
Nay, more, in Curfes he goes boldly on,
He damns himself, and thus devotes his Son:
If I'm forfworn, you injur'd Gods renew
Thyeftes Feaft, and prove the Fable true.
Some think that Chance rules all, that Nature steers
The moving Seasons, and turns round the Years.
These run to ev'ry Shrine, these boldly swear,
And keep no Faith, because they know no Fear.
XI..
Another doubts, but as his Doubts decline,
He dreads juft Vengeance, and he starts at Sin;
4 If a swarm of Bees pitch'd upon a Temple, it was look'd upon as an Omen of some very
great Mischief.
5 Thyeftes was treated with a Hash made of his own Son.
He owns a God: And yet the Wretch forfwears;
And thus he Reasons, to relieve his Fears:
Let is rage, fo I fecurely hold
The Coin forfworn, and keep the ravish'd Gold;
Let Blindness, Lameness come; are Legs and Eyes
Of equal Value to so great a Prize?
Wou'd ftarving Ladas, had he leave to chufe,
And were not frantick, the Rich Gout refuse?
For can the Glory of the fwifteft pace
Procure him Food? Or can he feaft on Praife?
The Gods take Aim before they strike their Blow,
Tho' fure their Vengeance, yet the Stroke is flow;
And fhou'd at ev'ry Sin their Thunder Aly,
I'm yet fecure, nor is my Danger nigh:
But they are Gracious, but their Hands are free,
And who can tell but they may reach to Me?
Some they forgive, and ev'ry Age relates
That equal Crimes have met unequal Fates;
That Sins alike, unlike Rewards have found,
And whilft This Villain's Crucify'd, The other's Crown'd.
The Man that fhiver'd on the brink of Sin,
Thus fteel'd and hard'ned, ventures boldly in;
Dare him to Swear, he with a chearful Face
Flies to the Shrine, and bids Thee mend thy Pace;
He urges, goes before Thee, fhews the way,
Nay, pulls Thee on, and chides Thy dull delay;
For Confidence in Sin, when mixt with Zeal,
Seems Innocence, and looks to most as wel.
Thus like the waggish Slave in-
He fpreads the Net, and takes the easie Prey.
6 Ifis. An Egyptian God. defs, fuppos'd to be much concern'd in inflicting Difeafes and Maladies on Mankind,
7 Ladas. An excellent Foot
man, who won the Prize in the Olympian Game s
You rage and storm, and blafphemousty loud,
Stentor bellowing to the Grecian Crowd,
Or Homer's 9 Mars, with too much warmth exclaim;
Jove, doft Thou hear, and is thy Thunder tame?
Wert Thou all Brafs, thy Brazen Arm should rage,
And fix the Wretch a Sign to future Age:
Elfe why fhou'd Mortals to thy Feafts repair,
Spend useless Incense, and more useless Prayer?
Bathyllus 10 Statue at this rate may prove
Thy equal Rival, or a greater Jove
Be cool, my Friend. and hear my Mufe difpence Some fovereign Comforts, drawn from common Senfe; Not fetch'd from Stoicks rigid Schools, nor wrought
By Epicurus' more indulgent Thought;
Who led by Nature, did with Eafe purfue
The Rules of Life; guefs'd beft, tho' mifs'd the true.
A defperate Wound muft skilful Hands employ,
But thine is curable by Philip's Boy.
Look o'er the present and the former time:
If no Example of fo Vile a Crime
Appears, then Mourn; admit no kind Relief,
But beat thy Breast, and I applaud thy Grief;
Let Sorrow then appear in all her State,
Keep mournful Silenee, and fhut faft thy Gate.
Let folemn Grief on Money loft attend,
Greater than waits upon a dying Friend;
Stentor. A famous Crier in the Grecian Army, whofe fingle voice was as loud as that of fifty Men together.
9 Homer fays that Mars being wounded by Diomedes, made as great an Out-cry, as Ten
Thousand Men fhouting to the
Battel.
10 A Fidler and a Player: But put here for an idle Scoundrel or infignificant Fellow.
11 A Surgeon of no great Credit and Reputation.
None feigns, none acted Mourning's forc'd to fhow,
Or fqueeze his Eyes to make that Torrent flow;
For Money loft demands a heartier due;
Then Tears are real, and the Grief is true.
But if at each Assize, and Term, we try
A thousand Rafcals of as deep a Dye;
If Men forfwear the Deeds and Bonds they draw,
Tho' Sign'd with all Formality of Law,
And tho' the Writing and the Seal proclaim
The barefac'd Perjury, and fix the Shame;
Go, Fortune's Darling, nor expect to bear
The common Lot, but to avoid thy fhare!
Heav'n's Favourite Thou, for better Fates defign'd,
Than we the Dregs and Rubbish of Mankind!
This petty Sinner scarce deferves thy Rage,
Compar'd with the great villains of the Age.
Here hir'd Affaffins kill; there, Sulphur thrown,
By treacherous Hands, deftroys the frighted Town.
Bold Sacrilege, invading Things Divine,
Breaks through a Temple, or deftroys a Shrine,
The Reverend Goblets, and the ancient Plate,
Those grateful Prefents of a Conqu'ring State,
Or pious King; or if the Shrine be poor,
The Image spoils: Nor is the God secure.
One feizes Neptune's Beard, one Caftor's Crown,
Or Jove himself, and melts the Thunderer down!
Here Pois'ners murder, there the impious Son,
With whom a guiltlefs 12 Ape is doom'd to drown,
Prevents old Age, and with a hafty Blow
Cuts down his Sire, and quickens Fates too flow.
Yet what are these to thofe vaft heaps of Crimes,
Which make the greatest Business of our Times,
12 The Villain that kill'd his Father, was to be put into a Bag with a Dog, a Cock,
Serpent, and an Ape, and thrown into the Sea,
Which Terms prolong, and which from Morn to Night Amaze the Juries, and the Judges fright?
Attend the Court, and thou shalt briefly find
In that one place the Manners of Mankind;
Hear the Indictments, then return again,
Call thy felf Wrerch, and if thou dar'ft, complain.
Whom midft the Alps do hanging Throats furprize?
Who ftares in Germany at watchet Eyes?
Or who in Meroë, when the Breast reclin'd,
Hangs o'er the Shoulder to the Child behind,
And bigger than the Boy? For Wonder's loft
When Things grow common, and are found in most.
When Cranes invade, his little Sword and Shield
The Pigmy takes, and ftreight attends the Field:
The Fight's foon o'er; the Cranes defcend, and bear
The sprawling Warriors through the liquid Air:
Now here thou'd fuch a Fight appear to view,
All Men wou'd split, the Sight wou'd please whilst new:
There none's concern'd, where every day they fight,
And not one Warrior is a Foot in height.
But fhall the Villain 'fcape? Shall Perjury
Grow Rich and Safe, and fhall the Cheat be free?
Hadft thou full power (Rage asks no more) to kil,
Or measure out his Torments by thy Will;
Yet what couldst thou, Tormentor, hope to gain?
Thy Lofs continues, unrepaid by Pain;
Inglorious Comfort thou shalt poorly meet,
From his mean Blood. But, oh! Revenge is sweet.
Thus think the Crowd, who, eager to engage,
Take quickly fire, and kindle into Rage;
Who ne'er confider, but without a pause,
Make up in Paffion what they want in Cause.
Not fo mild 13 Thales nor Chryfippus thought,,
Nor that Good Man, who drank the Pois'nous Draught 13 Philofophers of great Credit and Worth.
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