Imatges de pÓgina

Nor think yourself secure in doing wrong
By telling noses with a party strong.
Be rich; but of

your wealth make no parade ; At least, before your master's debts are paid, Nor in a palace,built with chargeimmense, Presume to treat bim at his own expence. Each farmer in the neighbourhood can

count, To what your lawful perquisites amount. The tenants poor,the hardness of the times, Are ill.excuses for a fervant's crimes. With interest, and a premium paid beside, The master's pressing wants must be sup

ply'd; With hafty zeal behold the fteward come

y his own credit to advance the sum; Who, while th ynrighteous mammon is

his friend, Maywell conclude his pow'rwill never end. A faithful treas'rer ! what could he do

more? Helends my lord, what was my lord's before. The law foftrialy guards the monarch's

health, That no physician dares prescribe by stealth


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The councilsit; approvethe doctor's skill;
And give advice, before he gives the pill,
But the state emp’ric acts a safer part;
And while he poisons, wins the royal heart,
But how can I describe the ray’nouş

Then let me now by negatives proceed,

Suppose your lord a trusty servant fend On weighty bus’ness to fome neighb'ring

friend ;

the boats,

Presume not,Gay, unless you serve a drone,
To countermand his orders by your own.

Should fome imperious neighbour. sink
And drain the fish-ponds, while your master

. Shall he upon the ducal rights intrench, Because he brib'd you with a brace of


doats ;

Nor from your lord his bad condition

To feed his luxury, or soothe his pride.
Nor at an under rate his timber fell,
And with an oath assure him; all is well.


Or swear it rottèn*; and with humble airs Request it of him to compleat your fairs. Nor when a mortgage lies on halfhis lands, Come with a purse of guineas in your

hands. Have Peter Waters always in your mind; That rogue of genuine mysterial kind Can halfthe peerage by his arts bewitch; Staryetwenty lords to make one scoundrel

rich: And when he gravely has undone a scoré, Is humbly pray'd to ruin twenty moret. A dexterous fteward, when his tricks

are found, Hush-money sends to all the neighbours


His master, unsuspicious of his pranks, Pays all the cost, and gives the villain

thanks. And should a friend attempt to set him

right, His lordship would impute it all to spight; Would love his fav’rite better than before, And trust his honelty just so much more, Thus families like realms with equal fate Are sunk by premier ministers of state. Some, when an heir succeeds, go boldly

• These lines are thought wainscots, stairs, door-cases, to allude to some story concerning a great quantity of + He had practised this trade mahogany declared rotien,and for many years with succes, En applied by somebody to



on, And, as they robb’d the father, robb’d

the fon.

A knave, who deep embroils his lord's

affairs, Will soon grow necessary to his heirs. His policy consists in setting traps, In finding ways and means, and stopping

gaps: He knows a thousand tricks whene'erhe

please, Though not to cure, yet palliate each

disease. In either case an equal chance is run; For keep, or turn him out my lord's un

done. You want a hand to clear a filthy sink; Nocleanly workman can endure the stink. A strong dilemma in a desperate case! To act with infamy, or quit the place. A bungler thus, who scarce the nail

can hit, With driving wrong will make the pannel split :


Nor dares an abler workman undertake To drive a second, left the whole should

break. In ev'ry court the parallel will hold; And kings, like private folks, were bought

and fold. The ruling rogue, who dreads to be

cashier'd, Contrives, as he is hated, to be fear'd: Confounds accounts, perplexes all affairs; For vengeance more embroils, than skill

repairs. So robbers (and their ends atejust the same) To’scape enquiries leave the house in flame.

I knew a brazen minister of state. Who bore for twice ten years the public

hate. In every

mouth the question moftin vogue Was, when will they turn out this odious

rogue? A juncture happen'd in his highest pride: While he went robbing on,old master died. We thought there now remain'd no room

to doubt; His work is done, the minister must out. The court invited more than one or two; Will you Sir Spencer? or, will

you, or you?


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