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Some doubt, if equal pains, or equal fire,
The humbler Mufe of Comedy require.
But in known Images of life, I guess

The labour greater, as th' indulgence lefs s,
Obferve how feldom ev'n the best fucceed:

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Tell me ift Congreve's Fools are Fools indeed?
What pert low Dialogue has Farquhar writ!
How Van wants grace, who never wanted wit!
The stage how loosely " does Aftræa tread,
Who fairly puts all Characters to bed!
And idle Cibber, how he breaks the laws,
To make poor Pinkey w eat with vast applause!
But fill their × purse, our Poet's work is done,
Alike to them, by Pathos or by Pun.

O you! whom y Vanity's light bark conveys
On Fame's mad voyage by the wind of praise,
With what a shifting gale your courfe you ply,
For ever funk too low, or borne too high!

Creditur, ex medio quia res arceffit, habere Sudoris minimum; fed habet Comoedia tanto

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Who

Plus oneris, quanto veniae minus §. afpice, Plautus
Quo pacto partes tutetur amantis ephebi,

t

Ut patris attenti, lenonis ut infidiofi:

Quantus fit Doffennus w edacibus in parafitis;

Quam " non aftricto percurrat pulpita focco.

Gestit enim x nummum in loculos demittere: poft hoc

Securus, cadat an recto ftet fabula talo.

Quem tulit ad fcenam y ventoso gloria curru, Exanimat lentus spectator, fedulus inflat :

Who pants for glory finds but fhort repose,

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A breath revives him, or a breath o'erthrows.

z Farewell the stage! if just as thrives the play, The filly bard grows fat, or falls away.

a There still remains, to mortify a Wit,
The many-headed Monster of the Pit;
A fenfelefs, worthlefs, and unhonour'd crowd:
Who, to disturb their betters mighty proud,
Clattering their sticks before ten lines are spoke.
Call for the Farce, the Bear, or the Black-joke.
What dear delight to Britons Farce affords!
Ever the Tafte of Mobs, but now d of Lords;
(Tafte, that eternal wanderer, which flies
From heads to ears, and now from ears to eyes)
The Play ftands ftill; damn action and discourse,
Back fly the scenes, and enter foot, and horse;

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Pageants

Sic leve, fic parvum eft, animum quod laudis avarum
Subruit, ac reficit: z valeat res ludicra, fi me
Palma negata macrum, donata reducit opimum.
Saepe etiam audacem fugat hoc terretque poetam
Quod numero plures, virtute et honore minores
Indocti, ftolidique, et b depugnare parati

a

Si difcordet eques, media inter carmina poscunt
Aut curfum aut pugiles: his nam plebecula gaudet,
Verum equitis quoque jam migravit ab aure voluptas
Omnis, ad incertos oculos, et gaudia vana.
Quatuor aut plures aulaea premuntur in horas;
Dum fugiunt equitum turmae, peditumque catervae :
Mox trahitur manibus regum fortuna rétortis;

Pageants on pageants, in long order drawn,
Peers, Heralds, Bishops, Ermin, Gold and Lawn;
The Champion too! and, to complete the jest,

Old Edward's Armour beams on Cibber's breast.
With f laughter fure Democritus had dy'd,
Had he beheld an Audience gape fo wide.
Let Bear or 8 Elephant be e'er fo white,
The people, fure, the people are the fight!
Ah lucklefsh Poet! ftretch thy lungs and roar,
That Bear or Elephant shall heed thee more;
While all its i throats the gallery extends,
And all the Thunder of the Pit afcends!
Loud as the Wolves, on k Orca's ftormy steep,
Howl to the roarings of the Northern deep.
Such is the fhout, the long-applauding note,
At Quin's high plume, or Oldfield's 1 petticoat;

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Effeda feftinant, pilenta, petorrita, naves;
Captivum portatur ebur, captiva Corinthus.
f Si foret in terris, rideret Democritus ; feu
Diverfum confufa genus panthera camelo,
Sive g elephas albus vulgi converteret ora.
Spectaret populum ludis attentius ipfis,
Ut fibi praebentem mimo spectacula plura :
Scriptores autem h narrare putaret afello
Fabellam furdo. nam quae i pervincere voces
Evaluere fonum, referunt quem noftra theatra?
k Garganum mugire putes nemus, aut mare Tufcum.
Tanto cum ftrepitu ludi fpectantur, et artes,
1 Divitiaeque peregrinae: quibus m oblitus actor

Or

Or when from Court a birth-day fuit bestow'd,
Sinks the m loft Actor in the tawdry load.
Booth enters-hark! the universal peal!
"But has he spoken?" Not a fyllable.

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What shook the stage, and made the people ftare
Cato's long wig, flower'd gown, and lacquer'd chair.
Yet, left you think I railly more than teach,

Or praise malignly Arts I cannot reach,
Let me for once presume t' inftru&t the times,
To know the Poet from the man of rhymes:
'Tis he who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me feel each Paffion that he feigns;
Inrage, compofe, with more than magic Art,
With pity, and with terror, tear my heart;
And fnatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
P But not this part of the Poetic state
Alone, deferves the favour of the Great:

Cum ftetit in fcena, concurrit dextera laevae.
Dixit adhuc aliquid? nil fane. Quid placet ergo?
n Lana Tarentino violas imitata veneno.
Ac ne forte putes me, quae facere ipfe recufem,
Cum recte tractent alii, laudare maligne;
Ille per extentum funem mihi poffe videtur
Ire poeta; meum qui pectus inaniter angit,
Irritat, mulcet, falfis terroribus implet,

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Think

Ut magnus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis. P Verum age, et his, qui se lectori credere malunt, Quam fpectatoris faftidia ferre fuperbi,

Think of thofe Authors, Sir, who would rely
More on a Reader's fenfe, than Gazer's eye.

Or who fhall wander where the Muses fing?

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Who climb their mountain, or who tafte their spring? How fhall we fill 9 a Library with Wit,

When Merlin's Cave is half unfurnish'd yet?

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My Liege! why Writers little claim your thought,

I guess; and, with their leave, will tell the fault:
We Poets are (upon a Poet's word)

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Of all mankind, the creatures most abfurd:

The feafon, when to come, and when to go,
To fing, or ceafe to fing, we never know;
And if we will recite nine hours in ten,
You lofe your patience just like other men.
Then too we hurt ourselves, when, to defend
A fingle verfe, we quarrel with a friend;
Repeat "unafk'd; w lament, the Wit's too fine
For vulgar eyes, and point out every line;
But most, when, straining with too weak a wing,
We needs will write Epiftles to the King;

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And

Curam impende brevem: fi 9 munus Apolline dignum Vis complere libris ; et vatibus addere calcar,

Ut ftudio majore petant Helicona virentem.

r Multa quidem nobis facimus mala faepe poetae, (Ut vineta egomet caedam mea) cum tibi librum s Solicito damus, aut feffo: cum laedimur, unum Si quis amicorum eft aufus reprendere versum : Cum loca jam " recitata revolvimus irrevocati : Cum w lamentamur non apparere labores

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