One to Atrides I will fend;
And t'other to my Trojan friend. -
Each prince hall thus with honour have
What both fo warmly feem to crave:
The wrath of Gods and man fhall ceafe;
And Poltis live and die in peace.
Dick, if this ftory pleafeth thee,
Pray thank Dan Pope, who told it me.
Howe'er fwift Alma's flight may vary,
(Take this by way of corollary)
Some limbs fhe finds the very fame,
In place, and dignity, and name :
Thefe dwell at fuch convenient diftance,
That each may give his friend atfistance.
Thus he who runs or dances begs
The equal vigour of two legs; :
So much to both does Alma trust,
She ne'er regards which goes the first.
Teague could make neither of them ftay,
When with himself he ran away.
The man who ftruggles in the fight
Fatigues left arm as well as right;
For, whilft one hand exalts the blow,
And on the earth extends the foe;
T'other would take it wondrous ill,
If in your pocket he lay still.
And, when you shoot, and shut one eye,
No, Sir; whilft he withdraws his flame,
His comrade takes the furer aim.
One moment if his beams recede;
As foon as e'er the bird is dead,
Opening again, he lays his claim
To half the profit, half the fame,
And helps to pocket up the game,
'Tis thus one tradefman flips away,
To give his partner fairer play.
Some limbs again, in bulk or stature
Unlike, and not a-kin by Nature,
In concert act, like modern friends;
Becaufe one ferves the other's ends.
The arm thus waits upon the heart,
So quick to take the bully's part,
That one, though warm, decides more flow
Than t' other executes the blow.
A ftander-by may chance to have it,
Ere Hack himfelf perceives he gave it.
The amorous eyes thus always go A-ftrolling for their friends below: For, long before the fquire and dame Have tête à tête reliev'd their flame,
Ere vifits yet are brought about,
The eye by fympathy looks out,
Knows Florimel, and longs to meet her,
And, if he fees, is fure to greet her,
Though at fafh-window, on the stairs,
At court, nay (authors fay) at prayers.—
The funeral of fome valiant knight May give this thing its proper light. View his two gauntlets; these declare That both his hands were us'd to war. And from his two gilt fpurs 'tis learn'd, His feet were equally concern'd.
But have you not with thought beheld
The fword hang dangling o'er the shield?
Which fhews the breast, that plate was us'd to, 180
Had an ally right arm to trust to:
And, by the peep-holes in his creft,
Is it not virtually confeft,
That there his eyes took diftant aim,
And glanc'd refpect to that bright dame,
In whofe delight his hope was center'd,
And for whofe glove his life he ventur'd?
Objections to my general fyftem
May rife perhaps; and I have mift them :
But I can call to my affiftance
Proximity (mark that !) and distance;
Can prove, that all things on occafion
Love union, and defire adhesion;
That Alma merely is a scale ;
And motives, like the weights, prevail.
If neither fide turn down nor up,
With lofs or gain, with fear or hope;
The balance always would hang even,
Like Mah'met's tomb, 'twixt earth and heaven.
This, Richard, is a curious cafe:
Suppofe your eyes fent equal rays
E 4
Upon two diftant pots of ale,
Not knowing which was mild or stale :
In this fad ftate your doubtful choice
Would never have the cafting voice;
Which beft or worst you could not think ;
And die you must for want of drink ;
Unless fome chance inclines your fight,
Setting one pot in fairer light;
Then you prefer or A, or B,
As lines and angles beft agree:
Your fenfe refolv'd impells your will:
She guides your hand-fo drink your fill.
Have you not feen a baker's maid
Between two equal panniers fway'd?
Her tallies ufelefs lie, and idle,
If plac'd exactly in the middle:
But, forc'd from this unactive ftate
By virtue of fome cafual weight,
On either fide you hear them clatter,
And judge of right and left hand matter.
Now, Richard, this coercive force,
Without your choice, must take its course;
Great kings to wars are pointed forth,
Let people call us cheats or fools,
Our cards and we are equal tools.
We fure in vain the cards condemn :
Ourselves both cut and fhuffled them.
In vain on Fortune's aid rely : :
She only is a ftander-by.
Poor men poor papers! we and they
Do fome impulfive force obey:
And are but play'd with-do not play.
But fpace and matter we should blame;
They palm'd the trick that loft the game.
Thus, to fave further contradiction,
Against what you may think but fiction
I for attraction, Dick, declare:
Deny it those bold men that dare.
As well your motion, as your thought,
Is all by hidden impulfe wrought:
Ev'n faying that you think or walk,
When Pyrrhus chaunts the heavenly fong.
When Pedro does the lute command,
She guides the cunning artift's hand.
Through Macer's gullet fhe runs down,
When the vile glutton dines alone.
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