Sidor som bilder

Obfcure? Why pr'ythee what am I? I know
My father, grandfire, and great-grandfire too:
If father I derive my pedigree,

I can but guefs beyond the fourth degree.
The rest of my forgotten ancestors,

Were fons of earth, like him, or fons of whores.
Yet why wouldst thou, old covetous wretch, afpire
To be my heir, who might'ft have been my fire?
In nature's race, fhould it thou demand of me
My 3 torch, when I in courfe run after thee?
Think I approach thee, like the God of gain,
With wings on head and heels, as poets feign:
Thy modʼrate fortune from my gift receive;
Now fairly take it, or as fairly leave.

But take it as it is, and afk no more.

I What, when thou haft embezzel'd all thy ftore?
Where's all thy father left? 'Tis true, I grant,
Some I have mortgag'd, to supply my want :
The legacies of Tadius too are flown;
All spent, and on the felf-fame errand gone.
How little then to my poor fhare will fall?
Little indeed; but yet that little's all.

Nor tell me, in a dying father's tone,
Be careful fill of the main chance, my fon;
Put out thy principal, in trufty hands:
Live on the ufe; and never dip thy lands:
But yet what's left for me? What's left, my friend!
Afk that again, and all the reft I spend.

Is not my fortune at my own command ?
Pour oil, and pour it with a plenteous hand,
Upon thy fallads, boy: fhall I be fed

With fodden nettles, and a fing'd fow's head ?

3 Shou'dft thou demand of me my torch, &c. Why fhou'dft thou, who art an old fellow, hope to out-live me, and be my heir, who am much younger? He who was firft, in the courfe, or race, delivered the torch, which he carried, to him who was fecond.

'Tis holiday; provide me better cheer;
'Tis holiday, and fhall be round the year.
Shall I my houfhold Gods and genius cheat,
To make him rich, who grudges me my meat?
That he may loll at eafe; and pamper'd high,
When I am laid, may feed on giblet-pie?
And when his throbbing luft extends the vein,
Have wherewithal his whores to entertain?
Shall I in homefpun cloth be clad, that he
His paunch in triumph may before him fee?
Go, mifer, go; for lucre fell thy foul; -

Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole:
That men may fay, when thou art dead and gone,
See what a vaft eftate he left his fon!
How large a family of brawny knaves,
Well fed, and fat as 4 Cappadocian flaves!
Increafe thy wealth, and double all thy ftore;
"Tis done: now double that, and fwell the score;
To ev'ry thousand add ten thousand more.
Then fay, 5 Chryfippus, thou who wouldft confine
Thy heap, where I fhall put an end to mine.


Weil fed and fat as Cappadocian flaves: Who were famous, for their luftinefs; and being, as we call it, in good liking. They were fet on a ftail when they were expofed to fale, to fhew the good habit of their body, and made to play tricks before the buyers, to fhew their activity and strength.

5 Then Jay, Chryfippus, &c. Chryfippus the ftoick invented a kind of argument, confifting of more than three propofitions; which is called Sorites, or a heap. But as Chryfippus could never bring his propofitions to a certain ftint; fo neither can a covetous man bring his craving defires to any certain measure of riches, beyond which, he could not wish for any more.


[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors]






Chryfes, prieft of Apollo, brings prefents to the Grecian princes, to ranfom his daughter Chryfeis, who was prifoner in the fleet. Agamemnon, the general, whofe captive and miftrefs the young lady was, refufes to deliver, threatens the venerable old man, and dismisses him with contumely. The

« FöregåendeFortsätt »