For if a Lady conies to Town to see
A Lady; Tales are pretty Company.
I was at Madims t'other Day, and who
Do you think came by, but Bellamira W now!
Tawdry at Fifty, and a perfect Blow22:
Lord! had you seen her Dress, and large white Fruze,
You wou'd have split your Sides with Laughing Cuz

Sophronia.
No more of this. Infirmities will be
In Age, in Youth, in Rags and Quality.
Affected Looks, soft Smiles, and winning Air,
And wrinkled Age attempting to be fair
Are common Follies: but the greatest still
Is unreform’d of ever speaking ill.

Liloela.
Do nut ill Actions merit publick Shame?

Sophronia.
But you talk not to niend, but to defame.

Laloeffa.
Would you have all without Distinction pass?

Sophronia.
Virtue Good-natur'd is, and ever was,
Severe unto it self alone, and the
Leffens the Credit of her Worth to me,
Whose Fame wants the support of others Infamy.
Suspect the Woman, when no Fear's upon her,
That starts, and claps her Hand upon her Honour",
Who in all Companies I'm chaste cries out,
Till what we never doubted of, we doubt.
Who for nice Reasons blasts another's Name,
The moft cenforious are the most to blame.
Guilt clears the Sight, with a discerning Eye
Naked, we others Nakedness descry.

Laloeffa.
But surely I may talk of what I hear :

So

Sophronia.
To make the Lewdness of this Town appear,
And how unjust their groundless Censures are,
You know what has been said of Betty Feaft,
The common Scandal, and the common Jeft;
And yet there's not a Person to be found
In Town Discreeter,or more Grave, or sound.

Laloesa.
I hope you will not Cousin her defend.

Sophronia.
'Tis hard; yet any Thing in hopes to mend.

Laloca.
But I've may News from Mr. Such-a-one,

Sophrenia.
Ne're trust a Man that never dines at Home,
For such Iment to make an equal Treat ;
They feed you with Discourse, you them with Meato

Laloela.
Must then all pleasant Conversation fail,
And dull Good-nature above Wit prevail ?

Sophronia.
Excellent Proof of Wit indeed! to rail.
Week Malice tinctured with little Sense,
And a gay, nauseous, chearful Confidence
Make up the wretched Compound: I despise
Injurious Nonsense founded upon Lyes.
And this when your engag'd, your felves you owng.
A Hellish Lye! but that won't this damn'd Town.
You with much Truth, and much Concern exclaini,
And yet at once you practice what you blame.

Lalocsa.
At this Rate, half the Town would silent sit.

Sophronia.
Can you want Compass for your boasted Wit?
When dying Reputations every where
Lye basely wounded, and demand Repair?

Haft

Haft when the Breath of a good Name is gone,
In vain you seek to find a Čure. There's none.
But now my Business calls me Home, adieu.

Laloela.
Good Night. There's no one fond of such as you.

LXXIH.'

Credulity, or t'e Inconstancy of Mankind. FOR the dull World most Honour pay to those

Who on their Understanding most impose. First Man creates, and then he fears the Eif, Thus others cheat him not, but he himself; He loaths the Subftance, and he loves the show, You'll ne'er convince a Fool, Himself is so : He hates Realities, and hugs the Cheat, And still the only Pleasure's the Deceit. So Meteors fatter with a dazling Dye, Which no Existence has but in the Eve. At distance Prospects please us, but when near, We find but delart Rocks, and feeting Air. From Stratagen to Stratagem we run, And he knows most who latest is undone. Mankind one Day serene and free appear, The next, they're cloudy, fullen, and fevere: New Passions, new Opinions still excite, And what they like at Noon, they leave at Night. They gain with Labour, what they quit with Ease, And Health, for want of Change, becomes Disease. Religion's bright Authority they dare, And yet are Slaves to fuperftitious Fear. They Counsel others, but themselves deceive, And tho' they're.cozen'd still, they still believe

( .

LXXIV.

The Infirmary, or Diseases.

NIGH the Recefs of Chaos and dutt Night,

Where Death maintains his dread tyrannick Sway In the clofe Covert of a Cypress Grove, Where Goblins frisk, and airy Spectres rove, Yawns a dark Cave, most formidably wide; And there the Monarch's Triumphs are descry’d. Confus’d, and wildly huddl’d to the Eye, The Beggar's Pouch, and Prince's Purple lye. Din Lamps with sickly Rays scarce seem to glow, Sighs heave in mournful Moans, and Tears o'erflow, Old mouldring Urns, pale Fear, and dark Distress, Make up the frightful Horror o'the Place. Within its dreadful Jaws those Furies wait, Which execute the harsh Decrees of Fate. * Febris is first. The Hag relentless Hears, The Virgin's Sighs; and fees the Infant's Tears. In her parch'd Eye-balls fiery Meteors reign; And restless Ferments revel in each Vein. Then † Hydrops next appears amongst the throng, Bloated, and big, she lowly fails along. Bat like a Miser, in excess she's poor; And pines for Thirst amidst her wat’ry Store. Now loathsom | Lepra, that offensive Spright, With ioul Eruptions stain'd, offends the Sight. Still deaf to Beauty's soft persuading Pow'r, Nor can bright Hebe's Charms her Bloom fecure. Whilst meager | Phthilis gives a silent blow; Her Stroaks are sure; but her advances Now.

* Feaver, † Droply, | Leprosy, #Confumption.

NO

No loud Alarnis, nor fierce Assaults are shown:
She starves the Fortress first, then takes the Town.
Behind stood Crouds of much inferior Name,
Too num'rous to repeat, too foul to Name;
The Vaflals of their Monarch's Tyranny :
Who, at his Nod, on fatal Errands fly.

Dr. Garthe

LXXV.

Colonel Codrington to Sir Samuel Garth, on his

Dispensary.
ASK me not, Friend, what I approve or blame,

Perhaps I know not why I like, or danın ;
I can be pleas’d; and I dare own I am.
I read thee over with a Lover's Eye,
Thou hast no Faults, or I no Faults can spy ;
Thou art all Beauty, or all Blindness I.
Criticks, and aged Beaux of Fancy chaste;
Who ne'er had Fire, or else whose Fire is past,
Must judge by Rules what they want force to tafter
I wou'd a Poet, like a Mift refs, try,
Not by her Hair, her Hand, her Nose, her Eye ;
But by fome Nameless Pow'r to give me Joy, các

}

LXXVI.

Of Love.

or ,
It self Discharges on our Foes,
And sorrow too finds fome Relief
In Tears, which wait upon our Grief: