Do I not fee your dropfy belly fwell?

Your yellow fkin?—No more of that; I'm well.
I have already bury'd two or three

That ftood betwixt a fair eftate and ine,

And, doctor, I may live to bury thee.

Thou tell'ft me, I look ill; and thou look'ft worse.
I've done, fays the phyfician; take your course.
The laughing fot, like all unthinking men,
Bathes and gets drunk; then bathes and drinks again:
His throat half throttled with corrupted phlegm,
And breathing through his jaws a belching steam:
Amidst his cups with fainting shivering feiz'd,
His limbs disjointed, and all o'er diseas'd,
His hand refuses to sustain the bowl:

And his teeth chatter, and his eye-balls roll:
Till, with his meat, he vomits out his foul:
Then trumpets, torches, and a tedious crew
Of hireling mourners, for his funeral due.
Our dear departed brother lies in state,

His heels ftretch'd out, and pointing to the gate:

And flaves, now manumiz'd, on their dead mafter

wait.

They hoift him on the bier, and deal the dole:
And there's an end of a luxurious fool.
But what's thy fulfome parable to me?
My body is from all difeafes free:
My temperate pulfe does regularly beat;
Feel, and be fatisfy'd, my hands and feet:
Thefe are not cold, nor thofe oppreft with heat.

1}

Of

Or lay thy hand upon my naked heart,
And thou fhalt find me hale in every part.

I

grant this true: but, ftill, the deadly wound
Is in thy foul; 'tis there thou art not found.
Say, when thou feeft a heap of tempting gold,
Or a more tempting harlot doft behold;
Then, when she cafts on thee a fide-long glance,
Then try thy heart, and tell me if it dance.

Some coarse cold fallad is before thee fet;

Bread with the bran, perhaps, and broken meat;
Fall on, and try thy appetite to eat.

These are not dishes for thy dainty tooth:
What, haft thou got an ulcer in thy mouth;
Why ftand'st thou picking? Is thy pallat fore?
That bete and radishes will make thee roar?
Such is th' unequal temper of thy mind;
Thy paffions in extremes, and unconfin'd:
Thy hair fo briftles with unmanly fears,
As fields of corn, that rise in bearded ears.
And, when thy cheeks with flushing fury glow,
The rage of boiling caldrons is more flow;
When fed with fuel and with flames below.
With foam upon thy lips and sparkling eyes,
Thou fay'ft, and doft, in fuch outrageous wife;
That mad Oreftes, if he saw the show,

Would swear thou wert the madder of the two.

}

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THE

THE

FOURTH SATIRE

O F

PERSIUS.

THE ARGUMENT.

OUR author, living in the time of Nero, was contemporary and friend to the noble Poet Lucan; both of them were fufficiently fenfible, with all good men, how unskilfully he managed the commonwealth: and perhaps might guefs at his future tyranny, by fome paffages, during the latter part of his first five years; though he broke not out into his great exceffes, while he was reftrained by the counfels and authority of Seneca. Lucan has not fpared him in the poem of his Pharfalia; for his very compliment looked afquint as well as Nero. Perfius has been bolder, but with caution likewife. For here, in the perfon of young Alcibiades, he arraigns his ambition of meddling with ftate-affairs, without judgment or experience. It is probable that he makes Seneca, in this fatire, sustain the part of Socrates, under a borrowed name. And, withal, discovers concerning his luft, his

fome fecret vices of Nero,

drunkenness, and his effeminacy, which had not yet

arrived

arrived to public notice. He also reprehends the flattery of his courtiers, who endeavoured to make all his vices pafs for virtues. Covetoufnefs was undoubtedly none of his faults; but it is here defcribed as a veil cast over the true meaning of the poet, which was to fatirize his prodigality and voluptuoufnefs; to which he makes a tranfition. I find no inftance in hiftory of that emperor's being a Pathique, though Perfius feems to brand him with it. From the two dialogues of Plato, both called Alcibiades, the poet took the arguments of the fe.cond and third fatires, but he inverted the order of them: for the third fatire is taken from the first of thofe dialogues.

The commentators, before Cafaubon, were ignorant of our author's fecret meaning; and thought he had only written against young noblemen in general, who were too forward in afpiring to public magistracy: but this excellent fcholaft has unraveled the whole mystery; and made it apparent, that the fting of this fatire was particularly aimed at Nero.

W

HOE'ER thou art, whofe forward years are bent
On state affairs the guide to government;

Hear, firft, what Socrates of old has faid

To the lov'd youth, whom he at Athens bred.
Tell me, thou pupil to great Pericles,

Our fecond hope, my Alcibiades,

VOL. XXIV.

What are the grounds, from whence thou doft prepare
To undertake, so young, so vaft a care?
Perhaps thy wit (a chance not often heard,

That parts and prudence fhould prevent the beard): 'Tis feldom feen, that senators so young

Know when to speak, and when to hold their tongue.
Sure thou art born to fome peculiar fate;
When the mad people rife against the state,
To look them into duty: and command
An awful filence with thy lifted hand.

Then to befpeak them thus: Athenians, know
Against right reafon all your counfels go;
This is not fair; nor profitable that;
Nor t'other queftion proper for debate.

But thou, no doubt, can'ft fet the business right,
And give each argument its proper weight:
Know'ft, with an equal hand, to hold the fcale:
Seeft where the reafons pinch, and where they fail,
And where exceptions o'er the general rule prevail.
And, taught by infpiration, in a trice,

Canft punish crimes, and brand offending vice.
Leave, leave to fathom fuch high points as thefe,
Nor be ambitious, ere the time to please:
Unfeasonably wife, till age, and cares,

Have form'd thy foul, to manage great affairs.
Thy face, thy fhape, thy outfide, are but vain;
Thou haft not strength such labours to sustain;
Drink hellebore, my boy, drink deep, and purge thy

brain.

What