INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN BY
THE LADY HEN. MAR. WENTWORTH,
WHEN CALISTO WAS ACTED AT COURT.
As Jupiter I made my court in vain;
I'll now affume my native fhape again.
I'm weary to be fo unkindly us'd,
And would not be a god, to be refus'd.
State grows uneafy when it hinders love;
A glorious burden, which the wife remove.
Now, as a nymph, I need not fue, nor try
The force of any lightning but the eye.
Beauty and youth more than a god command;
No Jove could e'er the force of these with-
"Tis here that fovereign power admits difpute;
Beauty fometimes is juftly abfolute.
Our fullen Cato's, whatfoe'er they say,
Even while they frown and dictate laws, obey.
Ver. 1. As Jupiter] It was a fifter of the Dutchess of Marlborough, a maid of honour, and afterwards Dutchefs of Tirconnel, celebrated by Grammont, that acted in the Mafque of Califto at court, 1675. Dr. J. WARTON.
You, mighty fir, our bonds more easy make, 16
And gracefully, what all muft fuffer, take:
Above thofe forms the grave affect to wear;
For 'tis not to be wife to be fevere.
True wisdom may fome gallantry admit,
And foften business with the charms of wit. 20
Thefe peaceful triumphs with your cares you
bought,
And from the midst of fighting nations brought.
You only hear it thunder from afar,
And fit in peace the arbiter of war :
Peace, the loath'd manna, which hot brains de
fpife, You knew its worth, and made it early prize: And in its happy leifure fit and fee The promises of more felicity:
Two glorious nymphs of your own godlike line, Whofe morning rays like noontide strike and
you to fuppliant monarchs fhall dispose, To bind your friends, and to difarm your foes.
OUR author, by experience, finds it true,
'Tis much more hard to please himself than you;
And out of no feigned modefty, this day
Damns his laborious trifle of a play:
Not that it's worse than what before he writ, 5
But he has now another taste of wit;
And, to confess a truth, though out of time,
Grows weary of his long-lov'd mistress, Rhime.
Paffion's too fierce to be in fetters bound,
And nature flies him like enchanted ground: 10
What verfe can do, he has performed in this,
Which he prefumes the most correct of his ;
But fpite of all his pride, a fecret shame
Invades his breaft at Shakspeare's facred name:
Aw'd when he hears his godlike Romans rage, 15
He, in a just despair, would quit the stage;
And to an age less polish'd, more unskill'd,
Does, with difdain, the foremoft honours yield.
As with the greater dead he dares not strive,
He would not match his verfe with those who
Let him retire, betwixt two ages caft,
The firft of this, and hindmoft of the laft.
A lofing gamefter, let him fneak away;
He bears no ready money from the play.
The fate, which governs poets, thought it fit 25
He should not raise his fortunes by his wit.
The clergy thrive, and the litigious bar ;
Dull heroes fatten with the spoils of war:
All fouthern vices, heaven be praised, are here;
But wit's a luxury you think too dear.
When you to cultivate the plant are loth,
"Tis a threwd fign 'twas never of your growth;
And wit in northern climates will not blow,
Except, like orange-trees, 'tis hous'd from fnow.
There needs no care to put a playhouse down, 35
'Tis the most defart place of all the town:
We and our neighbours, to speak proudly, are,
Like monarchs, ruined with expenfive war;
While, like wife English, unconcern'd you fit,
And fee us play the tragedy of wit.
MAN OF MODE; OR, SIR FOPLING FLUTTER.
[BY SIR GEORGE ETHERIDGE, 1676.]
MOST modern wits fuch monftrous fools
They feem not of heaven's making, but their
Those naufeous harlequins in farce may pafs; But there goes more to a fubftantial afs: Something of man must be expos'd to view, 5 That, gallants, they may more resemble you. Sir Fopling is a fool fo nicely writ,
The ladies would mistake him for a wit; And, when he fings, talks loud, and cocks, would cry,
I vow, methinks, he's pretty company:
So brisk, so gay, so travell'd, fo refin'd,
As he took pains to graff upon his kind.
True fops help nature's work, and go to school, To file and finish God Almighty's fool.
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