human
Can you continue this poem for me?
  _Meo deo irato._ TER. PHOR.
The author of the following Eclogue, having requested my
assistance to introduce it to the world; it was with more
indignation than surprize I was informed of your having used your
entitled to the appellation of Roscius but yourself? Does Nyky
resemble any nick-named favourite of yours? Or does it follow,
that if you have cherished an unworthy favourite, you must bear
too near a resemblance to him? _Qui capit ille facit_; beware of
self-accusation, where others bring no charge! Or, granting you
right in these particulars, by what right or privilege do you,
Sir, set up for a licenser of the press? That you have long
successfully usurped that privilege, to swell both your fame and
fortune, is well known. Not the puffs of the quacks of Bayswater
and Chelsea are so numerous and notorious: but by what authority
do you take upon you to shut up the general channel, in which
writers usher their performances to the public? If they attack
either your talents or your character, _in utrumque paratus_, you
countenance and conscious innocence; _Nil conscire sibi, nulla
pallescere culpa_; Besides this brazen bulwark, I say, you have a
quibble. You have then every advantage in the contest: It is
needless, therefore, to endeavour to intimidate your antagonists
by countenancing your retainers to threaten their lives! These
such personal provocations; Heaven knows, the life of a
play-wright, like that of a spider, is in a state of the most
slender dependency. It is well for my rhiming friend that his
hangs not on so slight a thread. He thinks, nevertheless, that he
long preferred the flimzy, translated, patch'd-up and mis-altered
originality of writers, who have no personal interest with the
manager. In particular, he thinks the two pieces, you are
projecting to get up next winter, for the emolument of your
favorite in disgrace, or to reimburse yourself the money, you may
But you will ask me, perhaps, in turn, Sir, what right I have to
theatre; but, tho' the scenes and machines are yours; nay, tho'
you have even found means to make comedians and poets your
property; it should be with more caution than you practise, that
you extend your various arts to make so scandalous a property of
the publick.
Again I answer, it is because I have some regard for my friend,
and as much for myself, whom you have treated as ill perhaps as
conduct towards poets, players and the town in general, I doubt
not to convince the most partial of his admirers that he hath
accumulated a fortune, as manager, by the meanest and most
meretricious devices, and that the theatrical props, which have
long supported his exalted reputation, as an actor, have been
raised on the ruins of the English stage.
defeat the success of those arts, which you so unfairly practise
LOVE in the SUDS;
LOSS of his NYKY.
_Dixin' ego vobis, in hoc esse Atticam elegantiam?_ TER.
----quae laudaram quantum luctus habuerint!_
LOVE in the SUDS;
Whither away, now, GEORGE, into the city,
And to the village, must thou bear my ditty.
Seek NYKY out, while I in verse complain,
And court the Muse to call him back again.
Boeotian Nymphs, my favorite verse inspire;
As erst ye NYKY taught to strike the lyre.
For he like PHOEBUS' self can touch the string,
And opera-songs compose--like any thing!
What shall I do, now NYKY's fled away?
For who like him can either sing or say?
Quo te, Moeri, pedes; an quo via ducit in urbem?
Nymphae, noster amor, Libethrides, nunc mihi carmen,
Quale meo Codro, concedite; proxima Phoebi
Versibus ille facit.----
Quid facerem?
For me, alas! who well compos'd the song
When lovely PEGGY liv'd, and I was young;
By age impair'd, my piping days are done,
My memory fails, and ev'n my voice is gone.
My feeble notes I yet must strive to raise;
Boeotian Muses! aid my feeble lays:
A little louder, and yet louder still,
Aid me to raise my failing voice at will;
Aid me as loud as Hercules did bawl,
For Hylas lost, lost NYKY back to call;
While London town, and all its suburbs round
In echoes, NYKY, NYKY, back resound.
Cantando puerum memini me condere soles
Nunc oblita mihi tot carmina: vox quoque Moerim
Jam fugit ipsa----
Omnia fert aetas, animum quoque.
---- Musae paulo majora canamus.
---- Hylan nautae quo fonte relictum
Clamassent; ut littus Hyla, Hyla, omne sonaret.
_Once more I'll tune the vocal shell,
To hills and dales my passion tell,
A flame which time can never quell,
That burns for thee, my Peggy._
Whom fliest thou, frantic youth, and whence thy fear?
Blest had there never been a grenadier!
Unhappy NYKY, by what frenzy seiz'd,
Couldst thou with such a monstrous thing be pleas'd?
What, tho' thyself a loving horse-marine,
A common foot-soldier's a thing obscene.
Not fabled Nymphs, by spleen turn'd into cows,
Bellow'd to nasty bulls their amorous vows;
Tho' turn'd their loving horns upon each other,
Butting in play, as brother might with brother.
Unhappy NYKY, whither dost thou stray,
Lost to thy friends, o'er hills and far away?
Quem fugis? Ah demens!----
Et fortunatam, si nunquam armenta fuissent,
Pasiphaen nivei solatur amore juvenci.
Oh, virgo infelix, quae te dementia cepit?
Proetides implerunt falsis mugitibus agros:
At non tum turpes pecudum tamen ulla secuta est
Concubitus: quamvis collo timuisset aratrum,
Et saepe in levi quaesisset cornua fronte.
Ah, virgo infelix, tu nunc in montibus erras!
Time, however, effects strange things, as the poet says, and many
also quelled in the bosom of ROSCIUS.
 NYKY is a half-pay officer of marines. A horse-marine is a kind
of _meretricious_ HOBBY-HORSE, _modo vir modo faemina_.
Yet to Euryalus as Nisus true,
So shall thy ROSCIUS, NYKY, prove to you;
Whether by impulse mov'd, itself divine,
Or so I'm bound to call it, as it's mine,
A mighty feat presents itself to view,
Which for our mutual gain I yet will do.
Mean-time do thou beware, while I bemoan,
How far thou trustest seas or lands unknown.
To Tyber's stream, or to the banks of Po,
Safe in thy love, safe in thy virtue, go;
Yet even there with caution be thou kind,
And look out sharp and frequently behind.
But ah, beware, nor trust, tho' native Mud,
The banks of Liffy, or of Shannon's flood;
Or there, if driv'n by fate, be hush'd thy strain?
Nor of thy wayward lot, nor mine complain.
Nisus ait, "Diine hunc ardorem mentibus addunt
Euryale? An sua cuique deus sit dira Cupido?
Aut pugnam, aut aliquid jamdudum invadere magnum
Mens agitat mihi----
Hac iter est; tu ne qua manus se attollere nobis
A tergo possit, custodi et consule longe."
 NYKY it seems was born and bred in Ireland; where his christian
Lest female Bacchanals, when flush'd with wine,
Serve thee, like Orpheus, for thy song divine;
Nay back return, lest my too plaintive verse
Entail on me the same Orphean curse;
Lest Venus' train of Drury and the Strand
Attack my house by water and by land;
Hot with their midnight orgies, madly tear
My little limbs, and throw them here and there;
Casting, enrag'd at my provoking theme,
Th' inditing brain into the neighbouring stream:
When, as my skull shall float the tide along,
Thy much-lov'd name, the burthen of my song,
Shall still be stutter'd, later than my breath;
NYKY---NYK----NY----till stopt my tongue in death:
Through London-bridge shall Wapping NYKY roar,
And NYK be even heard to Hampton's shore.
---- ---- Spreto Ciconum quo munere matres
Inter sacra deum, nocturnique orgia Bacchi,
Discerptum latos juvenem sparsere per agros.
Tum quoque marmorea caput a cervice revulsum,
Gurgite cum medio portans Oeagrius Hebrus
Volveret, Eurydicen vox ipsa et frigida lingua
Ah miseram Eurydicen anima fugiente, vocabat:
Eurydicen toto referebant flumine ripae!
 The celebrated villa of ROSCIUS.
On Hebrus' banks so tuneful Orpheus died;
His limbs the fields receiv'd, his head the tide.
Nor more its stream renown'd than Thames in fame:
Here Catherine Hayes serv'd Goodman Hayes the same.
Here on this spot, where now th' Adelphi stands,
Was thrown her husband's noddle from her hands;
His scatter'd limbs left quiv'ring on the shore;
As Thracian wives had play'd their part before.
Oh, horrour, horrour! NYKY back return;
Nor more for grenadiers imprudent burn.
And yet, ah why should NYKY thus be blam'd?
Of manly love ah! why are men asham'd?
A new red coat, fierce cock and killing air
Will captivate the most obdurate fair;
What wonder then if NYKY's tender heart
At such a sight should feel a lover's smart:
No wonder love, that in itself is blind,
Should no distinction in the difference find;
No wonder love should NYKY thus enthrall;
Almighty love, at times, subdues us all;
While, vulgar prejudices soar'd above,
NYK gave up all the world,--well lost for love.
Omnia vincit amor et nos cedamus amori.
 See the Tyburn Chronicle and Newgate lamentations _pro tempore_;
Yet slight the cause of NYKY's late mishap;
NYK but mistook the colour of the cap:
A common errour, frequent in the Park,
Where love is apt to stumble in the dark.
Why rais'd the haughty female head so high,
With the tall caps of grenadiers to vie?
Why does it like tremendous figure make,
To subject purblind lovers to mistake?
Or rather why, in these enlighten'd times,
Should rigid Nature call such errours crimes?
"Thou Nature art my goddess," saith the play;
But even Shakespeare's text hath had its day.
More gentle custom no such rigour knows;
And custom into second nature grows.
Let vulgar passions move the vulgar mind,
Superior souls feel motives more refin'd:
Among the low-bred English slow advance
Th' Italian _gusto_ and _bon ton_ of France.
Strange to the classic lore of Greece and Rome,
And rudely nurs'd in ignorance at home,
The tasteless herd e'en construe into sin,
That poets should in metaphor lie in,
While I, their best man-midwife, must be sham'd,
Whene'er the Fashionable Lover's nam'd.
 NYKY is near sighted.
But Candour's veil love's foibles still should cover
To polish'd travellers is only known
That taste which makes the ancient arts our own;
Which shares with Rome in every gem antique;
Which blends the modern with the ancient Greek;
Improves on both, and greatly soars above,
In pure philanthropy, Platonic love;
That love which burns with undistinguish'd rage,
And spares in fondness neither sex nor age?
Ah! therefore why in these enlighten'd times
Sould rigid Nature call such errours crimes?
Must not the taste of Attic wits be nice?
Can antient virtue be a modern vice?
The Mantuan bard, or else his scholiast lies,
Virgil the chaste, nay Socrates the wise.
"_If any author of prolific brains
In this good company feels labour-pains;
If any gentle poet big with rhyme
Has run his reckoning out and gone his time:
Know such that at our hospital of muses
He may lie-in in private if he chuses;
We've single lodgings there for secret sinners
With good encouragement for your beginners._"
Prologue to the FASHIONABLE LOVER.
It is indeed now plain enough that ROSCIUS has given great
encouragement to _secret sinners_; but I would advise none of our
 The Jesuit Ruaeus begins the argument of Virgil's second Eclogue
The gay Petronius, sophists, wits and bards,
Of old, bestow'd on youth their soft regards;
In modish dalliance pass'd their harmless time
Ev'n modish now in soft Italia's clime.
Could lightenings ever issue from above
To blast poor men for such a crime as love;
When the lewd daughters of incestuous Lot
Were both with child by their own father got?
Poor goody Lot indeed might be in fault,
And justly turn'd to monumental salt:
The matrimonial emblem of a wife:
Needs must be salt a dish to keep for life!
A fable Sodom's fate: in Heav'n above
All is made up of harmony and love;
That such its vengeance I believe not, I;
Sing then, my Muse, a more engaging strain
To lure my NYKY back to Drury-lane.
Tell him the fancied danger all is o'er;
Home he may come and love as heretofore.
Formosum pastor Corydon ardebat Alexin.
---- Deos didici securum agere aevum
Nec si quid miri faciat natura, deos id
Tristes ex alto coeli demittere tecto.
Ducite ab urbe domum mea carmina ducite Daphnim.
In vain the vulgar shall for vengeance call,
Or move the justices at Hickes's-hall;
In vain grand juries shall be urg'd by law
In his indictment not to leave a flaw.
Ev'n at the bar should NYKY stand arraign'd,
No verdict 'gainst him should be there obtain'd;
Nay, by the laws and customs of the land,
Tho' trembling NYKY should convicted stand,
The candid jury shall be mov'd t'acquit
A gentleman, an author, and a wit:
For liberal minds with candour ever see
The milder failings of humanity!
Smooth-spoken MANSFIELD, with his vacant face,
In softening accents first shall ope his case;
Which to defend, the want of Merlin's cunning
Shall be supplied by that of Grimbald DUNNING.
E'en at th' Old-Bailey they for NYK shall plead;
Where would they not, if they were largely fee'd?
Were NYKY summon'd to the bar below,
Well-fee'd these faithful barristers would go;
 Not the Judge of that name; but the barrister, who, is by no
means a judge---- of any thing.
 See King Arthur, lately revived at Drury-lane Theatre, and
Their tale to Minos would they glibly tell;
Minos the MANSFIELD, or Chief Judge, of Hell.
Nor need my NYKY fear a London jury
Will e'er be influenced with a female fury.
Can they who let a prov'd assassin 'scape
Hang up poor NYKY for a friendly rape?
If in the dark to stab, be thought no crime,
What may'nt be hop'd from jurymen in time?
Soon Southern modes, no doubt, they'll reconcile
With the plain manners of our Northern isle;
And e'en new-married citizens be brought
To reckon S----y a venial fault:
When if GEORGE BELLAS, cruel and unkind,
Blast not their loves, with rude tempestuous wind,
In common-council Corydon may burn,
And Corydons for Corydon in turn,
Till every alderman about the chair
Find his Alexis in a new lord-mayor.
Ex illo Corydon, Corydon est tempore nobis.
 Minos is reported by the poets to have been raised to this high
 A boisterous mock-patriot, supposed to be descended from Eolus
bassoon.
Sing then, O Muse, a more pathetic strain,
To lure my gentle NYKY back again.
For, sure as Thames resembles Tyber's tide,
Shall Macaronis soon possess Cheapside;
As petty-jury-men in judgment sit,
And ev'ry Corydon, with NYK, acquit.
Yes by this knife, this useful knife, I swear,
Which for my lov'd B----TTI's sake I wear;
This knife, whose haft, at Stratford Jubilee,
For ever left its parent mulberry tree;
For thence it grew, tho', tipt with steel so fine,
It now will serve to stab with, or to dine;
That tree, which late on Avon's border grew;
By Shakespeare planted; Warwick lads say true;
Ducite ab urbe domum mea carmina ducite Daphnim.
All' ek toi ereo, kai epi megan horkon omoumai,
Nai ma tode skeptron, to men oupote phylla kai ozous
Physei, epeide prota tomen en oressi leloipen,
Oud' anathelesei.
Ut sceptrum hoc (sceptrum dextra nam forte gerebat)
Nunquam fronde levi fundet virgulta nec umbras;
Cum semel in sylvis imo de stirpe recisum,
Matre caret posuitque comas et brachia ferro
Olim arbos, nunc artificis manus aere decoro.
Inclusit patribusque dedit gestare Latinis.
 See the utility of this knife in a late Sessions-paper.
By this most precious relick, here I pledge
Myself to save him from the halter's edge:
And not myself alone, but ev'ry friend
Shall all his interest and assistance lend.
Quaint B----, beholding the rude mob with scorn,
Shall tell how Irish bards are gentle born;
Next I, to captivate the learned bench,
Will strait affirm that NYKY writes good French;
Thy timid nature JOHNSON shall maintain,
In words no dictionary can explain.
Goldsmith, good-natur'd man, shall next defend,
His foster-brother, countryman, and friend:
Shall prove the humbler passions, now and then,
Are incidental to us little men;
Hanc ego magnanimi spolium Didymaonis hastam,
Ut semel est avulsa jugis a matre perempta,
Quae neque jam frondes virides neque proferet umbras,
Fida ministeria et duras obit horrida pugnas
 See the Sessions-paper; in which this admirable plea is made use
 So called from having not long since made one in a poetical
"Three poets in three distant ages born," &c.
And that the part our gentle NYKY play'd
Was but philosophy in masquerade.
Let me no longer, then, my loss deplore,
But to his ROSCIUS, Muse, my NYK restore.
Ducite ab urbe domum mea carmina ducite Daphnim.
_Poor Dryden! what a theme hadst thou,
Compar'd to that which offers now?
What are your Britons, Romans, Grecians,
Compar'd with thorough-bred Milesians?
Step into Griffin's shop, he'll tell ye
Three poets of one age and nation,
Whose more than mortal reputation,
Mounting in trio to the skies
O'er Milton's fame and Virgil's flies.
Nay, take one Irish evidence for t'other,
Ev'n Homer's self is but their foster-brother._
 It seems indeed to be growing into fashion for philosophy to go
To Doctor GOLDSMITH, on seeing his name in the list of the
mummers at the late masquerade.
"Say should the philosophic mind disdain
That good which makes each humbler bosom vain;
Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can,
Such little things are great to little man."
_How widely different, Goldsmith, are the ways
Of doctors now, and those of ancient days!
Theirs taught the truth in academic shades,
Ours haunt lewd hops, and midnight masquerades!
So chang'd the times! say philosophic sage,
Whose genius suits so well this tasteful age,
Is the Pantheon, late a sink obscene,
Become the fountain of chaste Hippocrene?
Or do thy moral numbers quaintly flow
Inspir'd by th' Aganippe of Soho?_
For who like him will patch and pilfer plays,
Yielding to me the profit and the praise?
Tho' cheap in French translations MURPHY deals;
For cheap he well may vend the goods he steals;
Tho' modest CRADDOC scorns to sell his play,
But gives the good-for-nothing thing away;
What tho' the courtly CUMBERLAND succeeds
In writing stuff no man of letters reads;
Tho' sense and language are expell'd the stage;
For nonsense pleases best a senseless age;
What tho' the author of the New Bath Guide
Up to the skies my talents late hath cried;
_Do wisdom's sons gorge cates and vermicelli
Like beastly Bickerstaff or bothering Kelly?
Or art thou tir'd of th' undeserv'd applause
Bestow'd on bards affecting virtue's cause?
Wouldst thou, like Sterne, resolv'd at length to thrive,
Turn pimp and die cock-bawd at sixty-five,
Is this the good that makes the humble vain,
The good philosophy should not disdain
If so, let pride dissemble all it can,
A modern sage is still much less than man._
 The compliments passed between these celebrated geniuses indeed
were mutual; Mr. A. commending ROSCIUS for his fine acting, and
On the poetical compliments lately passed between Mess. G. and A.
_When mincing masters, met with misses,
Pay mutual compliments for kisses;
Miss Polly sings no doubt divinely,
And master Jacky spouts as finely.
But, how I hate such odious greeting,
When two old stagers have a meeting
Foh! out upon the filthy pother!
What!_ men _beslobber one another!_
assistant
Sure, a continuation for this poem could be:
  Tho' humble HIFFERNAN in pay, I keep,
Still my fast friend, when he is fast asleep;
Tho' long the Hodmandod my friend hath been,
With the land-tortoise earth'd at Turnham-Green:
My puffs in fairest order full display;
account of the slowness of its motion and the clouds of dust and
Monstrum horrendum informe ingens cui lumen ademptum.
_In Nature's workshop, on a day,
Her journeymen inclin'd to play,
Half drunk 'twixt cup and can,
Took up a clod, which she with care
Was modelling a huge sea bear,
And swore they'd make't a man._
_They tried, but, handling ill their tools,
Formed, like a pack of bungling fools,
A thing so gross and odd;
That, when it roll'd about the dish,
They knew not if 'twere flesh or fish,
_Yet, to compleat their piece of fun,
They christen'd it Arch Hamilton;
"But what can this thing do?"
Kick it down stairs; the devil's in't
If it won't do to write and print
 Editors and printers of news-papers, well known to the public
for their impartiality in regard to ROSCIUS.
Impartially insert each friendly PRO,
Suppressing ever CON of every foe;
For well I ween, they wot that _cons_ and _pros_
Will tend my faults and follies to expose:
Tho' mighty TOM doth still my champion prove,
And LOCKYER's gauntlet be a chicken glove.
 A recent instance of this must not pass unnoticed. In the Public
against } Notice of Process.
_Dame Nature against G---- now by me
Her action brings, and thus she grounds her plea.
"I never made a man but still
You acted like that man at will;
Yet ever must I hope in vain
To make a man like you again."
Hence ruin'd totally by you,
She brings her suit, &c. &c._
against } Defendant's Plea.
_For G---- I without a fee
'Gainst Nature thus put in his plea.
"To make a man, like me, of art,
Is not, 'tis true, dame Nature's part;
I own that Scrub, fool, knave I've play'd
With more success than all my trade;
But prove it, plaintiff, if you can,
That e'er I acted like a man."
Of this we boldly make denial.----
Join issue, and proceed to trial._
Tho' shambling BECKET, proud to soothe my pride,
Keeps ever shuflling on my right-hand side;
What tho' with well-tim'd flatt'ry, loud he cries,
At each theatric stare, "See, see his eyes!"
What tho' he'll fetch and carry at command,
And kiss, true spaniel-like, his master's hand;
With admiration NYK ne'er heard me speak,
But press'd the kiss of love upon my cheek;
Incessant clapp'd at th'end of every speech;
And, had I bidd'n him, would have kiss'd my b----!
Let me no longer, then, my loss deplore,
But to his ROSCIUS, Muse, my NYK restore.
But hah! what discord strikes my listening ear?
Is NYKY dead, or is some critic near?
Curse on that Ledger and that damn'd Whitehall,
How players and managers they daily maul!
Ducite ab urbe domum mea carmina ducite Daphnim.
 The famous THOMAS A BECKET, feigned by the poets to have been
drown'd, when, being half-seas over, in claret, he endeavoured to
_Here lies
That shuffling, shambling, shrugging, shrinking shrimp,
Tom Becket, Mammon's most industrious imp!_
 A customary method it seems, of NYKY's expressing his admiration
 News-papers so called, in which ROSCIUS is not a sharer, and
hath not yet come up to the price of their silence.
Curse on that Morning-Chronicle; whose tale
Is never known with spightful wit to fail.
Curse on that FOOTE; who in ill-fated hour
Trod on the heels of my theatric-power;
Who, ever ready with some biting joke,
My peace hath long and would my heart have broke.
Curse on his horse--one leg! but ONE to break!
"A kingdom for a horse"--to break his neck!
Curse on that STEVENS, with his Irish breeding,
While I am acting, shall that wretch be reading?
Curse on all rivals, or in fame or profit;
The Fantoccini still make something of it!
 What formidable rivals to the immortal ROSCIUS? Harlequin,
_George! did'nt I hear the critics hiss,
When I was dead?--"Yes, brother, yes,
You did not die in high rant."
Nay, if they think a dying king
Like Harlequin convuls'd, should spring,
Let ---- be hence their tyrant._
Curse on that KENRICK, with his caustic pen,
Who scorns the hate, and hates the love of MEN;
Who with such ease envenom'd satire writes,
Deeper his ink than aqua fortis bites.
Stand his perpetual-motion ever still;
Or, if it move, oh, let it move uphill.
The curse of Sisiphus, oh, let him feel;
The curse of Fortune's still recurring wheel;
ROSCIUS, however, hath chang'd his mind, and acquired new elastic
While crowded boxes, pit and galleries roar.
Who says that Roscius feels the hand of Time,
To blast his blooming laurels in their prime?
With ever supple limbs and pliant tongue,
Roscius, like Hebe, will be ever young.
See and believe your eyes----did e'er you see
So great a feat of pure agility?
Nor Hughes nor Astley, vaulting in the air,
Like Roscius makes the struck spectators stare.
Nor Lun nor Woodward ever gave the spring,
He gave last night in Richard, dying king!
Th' immortal actor, who can die so clever,
In spite of fate will live to die for ever!_
A Briton blunt, bred to plain mathematics,
Who hates French b--gres, and Italian pathics.
 The plaintive ROSCIUS seems here to have an eye to the following
_The wits who drink water, and suck sugar-candy,
Impute the strong spirit of_ Kenrick _to brandy.
They are not so much out: the matter in short is
He sips_ aqua-vitae _and spits_ aqua-fortis.
 This multifarious genius pretends to have discovered the
That upward roll'd with anxious toil and pain,
The summit almost gain'd, rolls back again.
Ne'er shall his FALSTAFF come again to life;
Ne'er shall be play'd again his WIDOW'D WIFE;
Ne'er will I court again his stubborn Muse,
But for a pageant would his play refuse.
While puff and pantomime will gull the town,
'Tis good to keep o'erweening merit down;
And grind the poets as I grind the players.
Aut petes aut urges ruiturum, Sysiphe, saxum.
 Falstaff's Wedding, a play written in imitation of Shakespeare;
indeed was afterwards performed, and tho' received with the most
 Another comedy, nearly under the same predicament with respect
having brought on, and repeatedly acted, the performances of his
players, the poets and the publick!
Curse on that KENRICK, foul of spleen and whim!
What are my puffs, and what my gains to him?
If poor and proud, can he of right complain
That wealthier men and wittier are as vain?
Why must he hint that I am past my prime,
To blast my fading laurels ere their time?
Death to my fame, and what, alas, is worse,
'Tis death, damnation, to my craving purse;
Capacious purse! by PLUTUS form'd to hold,
(The God of Wealth) the devil and all of gold.
Insatiate purse, that never yet ran o'er,
But swallows all, and gapes, like Hell, for more.
And yet, alas! how much the world will lye!
They call me miser; but no miser I;
He, brooding o'er his bags, delighted sits,
And laughs to scorn the jests of envious wits;
If fast his doors, he sets his heart at rest,
And dotes with rapture on his iron chest;
No galling paper-squibs his spirits teize,
But ev'n the boys may hoot him if they please.
He scorns the whistling of an empty name,
While I am torn 'twixt avarice and fame;
Sordidus ac dives, populi contemnere voces
Si solitus: populus me sibilat: at mihi plaudo
Ipse domi, simul ac nummos contemplor in arca.
While I, so tremblingly alive all o'er,
Still bleed and agonize at every pore;
At ev'ry hiss am harrow'd up with fear,
And burst with choler at a critic's sneer.
Rack'd by the gout and stone, and struck with age,
Prudence and Ease advise to quit the stage;
But Fame still prompts, and Pride can feel no pain;
And Avarice bids me sell my soul for gain.
Bring NYKY back, O Muse! by verse divine,
The Trojan-Greeks were once transformed to swine.
By verse divine B----TTI 'scap'd the rope:
Now love is known, what may not lovers hope!
Ev'n as with _Griffins_ stallions late have join'd
With blood-hounds goats may litter, as in kind;
Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina ducite Daphnim:
Carminibus Circe socios mutavit Ulyssei:
Carmina vel coelo possunt deducere lunam.
Nunc scio quid sit amor----
Jungentur jam _Gryphes_ equis, aevoque sequenti
Cum canibus timidi venient ad pocula damae.
Torva leaena lupum sequitur, lupus ipse capellam,
Te Corydon, O Alexis: trahit sua quemque voluptas.
 Unnatural monsters, familiar only with the poets.
Nay wanton kids devouring wolves may greet,
And wolves with loving lyonesses meet.
By different means is different love made known.
And each fond lover will prefer his own.
Strange lot of love! two friends, my soul's delight,
Men call that M----r, this a Catamite!
Yet bring him back; for who chaste roundelay
Shall sing, now B--ST--FF is driv'n away?
Who now correct, for modest Drury-lane,
Loose Wycherly's or Congreve's looser vein?
With nice decorum shunning naughty jokes,
Exhibit none but decent, dainty folks?
Ah me! how wanton wit will shame the stage,
And shock this delicate, this virtuous age!
 NYKY was employed by ROSCIUS to correct the Plain-dealer of
How will _Plain-dealers_ triumph, to my sorrow!
And PAPHOS rise o'er SODOM and GOMORRAH!
 A character thus admirably depicted by Wycherly, in the scene
between Manly and Plausible.
_Plausible._ As I do! Heaven defend me! upon my honour! I never
attempted to abuse or lessen any one in my life.
_Manly._ What! you were afraid?
_Manly._ I thought so: but know that this is the worst sort of
"Candour presents her compliments to Mr.----, she begs his
pardon,---- to Dr.---- _Kenrick_, and desires to ask him a few
simple questions; to which, if he be the _Plain-dealer_ he
pretends, he will give a plain and direct answer.
_Query_ I. Whether you are not the author of the eclogue,
out the most scandalous insinuations against the character of
anonymous paragraph in a public paper; for which that paper is
under a just prosecution?
and Roscius, can authorize so cruel, so unmanly an attack?
you refused him?
"Though I think your signature a misnomer, to shew that I a no
stranger to the name and quality you assume, I shall not stand on
your several questions explicitly.
_detest_; but I think _vice_ should be exposed to _infamy_, nor
have I so much _false delicacy_ as to conceive, it should be
treated with _tenderness_ in proportion as it is _abominable_.
submit it to the publick, were I egotist enough to think it
deserved their attention.
place, or weapon was mentioned, I did not look on this message as
_gentleman's satisfaction_ by _letter of attorney_, and the
professed end of our meeting turned merely on a matter of
business.--It is possible, indeed, the messenger, otherwise
instructed, might _imagine_ it such, especially as, it seems, his
magnanimous monomachy with one of his brother Roscius's
candle-snuffers.--That Roscius himself, however, did not mean to
send me a challenge, is plain, from his solliciting afterwards by
both: a request that would have been complied with, had not he
thought proper, in a most ungentleman-like manner, to make a
confidant, in the meantime, of a booby of a bookseller, who had
the folly and impudence to declare that he would, on _his_
desperate mischief.--Lest I should be yet supposed, from the
purport of this last query, to have any fear of a personal
encounter with the doughty Roscius, I require only that it may be
nor think myself so consequential in it, as to fear the end of it
putting an end to so insignificant a being as his: but, as "the
settle _only half_ his estate on my heirs, on condition that _he_
engage at his own weapons, not only him, but his brother George
into the bargain.
And now, Madam CANDOUR, give me leave to ask _you_ a question or
two, in my turn.
 The above pleasantry being misconstrued by some of Roscius's
gentleman, who supposes himself injured, has a right to require.
_Qu._ I. Whether, from many gross instances of misbehaviour,
_Roscius_ hath not long had sufficient reason to suspect the
detestable character of _Nyky_?
_immaculate_, he is excusable for his notorious partialities to
such a character?
being ludicrously reproached with such partialities, by a writer,
disrespect, with insolence, with injustice.
To these paragraphs the author judged it necessary to make the
The AUTHOR of LOVE in the SUDS to the PRINTER of the MORNING
"In reprehending others you should ever be cautious of falling
into the error you condemn. In yesterday's paper you indirectly
charge me, among others, with having "urged a detestable charge
with as much folly as wickedness against a certain great
actor."--What other people have done I know not, nor does it
concern me; but I may safely defy all the Lawyers in
Westminster-Hall fairly to deduce such a charge as you hint at
from the eclogue in question. In this respect it is certainly as
innocent as the great actor's Jubilee Ode! But granting it
charge the accusers with _folly_ and _wickedness?_ Why does not
will countenance his prosecution. Why was not his motion made
to do at present.
I am,
Shortly will be published,
By his moving the Court of King's Bench, for Leave to file an
Information against the Author of _Love in the Suds, or the
publication will be explained and justified.
_----mitto maledicta omnia:
Rem ipsam putemus._