So you, great authors, have thought fit
To make digreffion temper wit:
When arguments too fiercely glare,
You calm 'em with a milder air:
To break their points you turn their force,
And furbelow the plain difcourfe.
Richard, quoth Matt, these words of thine
Speak fomething fly and fomething fine ;
But I fhall e'en refume my theme,
However thou may'ft praise or blame.
As people marry now and fettle,
Fierce Love abates his ufual mettle;
Worldly defires and household cares
Disturb the godhead's foft affairs:
So now, as health or temper changes,
In larger compass Alma ranges;
This day below, the next above,
As light or folid whimfies move.
So merchant has his houfe in Town,
And country-1
-feat near Banfted Down;
From one he dates his foreign letters,
Sends out his goods and duns his debtors;
In th' other, at his hours of leifure,
He fmokes his pipe, and take his pleasure.
And now your matrimonial Cupid,
Lash'd on by Time, grows tir'd and stupid:
For ftory and experience tell us
That man grows cold and woman jealous.
Both would their little ends fecure;
He fighs for freedom, fhe for pow'r:
His wishes tend abroad to roam,
And her's to domineer at home.
Thus paffion flags by flow degrees,
And ruffled more, delighted lefs,
The bufy mind does feldom go
To thofe once chaming feats below;
But, in the breaft encamp'd, prepares
For well-bred feints and future wars.
The man fufpects his lady's crying
(When he last autumn lay a-dying)
Was but to gain him to appoint her
By codicil a larger jointure:
The woman finds it all a trick
That he could fwoon when he was fick,
And knows that in that grief he reckon'd
On black-ey'd Sufan for his fecond.
Thus having ftrove fome tedious years
With feign'd defires and real fears,
And tir'd with anfwers and replies
Of John affirms, and Martha lies,
Leaving this endless altercation,
The mind affects a higher ftation.
Poltis, that gen'rous king of Thrace,
I think was in this very cafe.
All Afia now was by the ears,
And gods beat up for volunteers
To Greece and Troy, while Poltis fate
In quiet, governing his state.
And whence, faid the pacific king,
Does all this noife and difcord spring?
Why, Paris took Attrides' wife-
With eafe I could compofe this ftrife:
The injur'd hero fhould not lofe,
Nor the young lover want, a fpoufe.
But Helen chang'd her firft condition
Without her husband's juft permiffion.
What from the dame can Paris hope?
She may as well from him elope.
Again, How can her old good man
With honour take her back again?
From hence I logically gather
The woman cannot live with either.
Now I have two right honeft wives,
For whofe poffeffion no man ftrives :
One to Attrides I will fend,
And th' other to my Trojan friend.
Each prince fhall thus with honour have
What both fo warmly feem to crave;
The wrath of gods and men fhall ceafe,
And Poltis live and die in peace.
Dick, if this story pleaseth 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 distance,
That each may give his friend assistance,
Thus he who runs or dances, begs
The equal vigour of two legs;
So much to both does Alma truft
If in your pocket he lay ftill.
And when you fhoot, and shut one eye,
You cannot think he would deny
To lend the other friendly aid,
Or wink as coward, and afraid.
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,
Op'ning 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 ftature
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, tho' warm, decides more flow
Than th' other executes the blow:
A ftander-by may chance to have it
Ere Hack himself perceives he gave it.
The am'rous eyes thus always go
A-ftrolling for their friends below;
For long before the fquire and dame
Have tête téte 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,
Tho' at fafh-window, on the ftairs,
At court, nay, (authors fay) at pray`rs-
The fun'ral of fome valiant knight
May give this thing its proper light.
View his two gauntlets; thefe 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
That there his eye 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 system
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 adhefion!
That Alma merely is a fcale,
And motives, like the weights, prevail.
If neither fide turn down or up,
With lofs or gain, with fear or hope,
The balance always would hang even,
Like Mah'met's tomb, 'twixt earth and heav'n.
This, Richard, is a curious cafe :
Suppofe your eyes fent equal rays
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 nor worft you could not think,
And die you must for want of drink,
Unless fome chance inclines your sight,
Setting one pot in fairer light;
Then you prefer or A or B,
As lines and angles best agree;
Your fenfe refolv'd impels your will;
She guides your hand-So drink
your
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 'em clatter,
And judge of right and left hand matter.
Now, Richard, this coercive force
Without your choice must take its courfe.
Great kings to wars are pointed forth
Like loaded needles to the North,
And thou and I, by pow'r unfeen,
Are barely paffive and fuck'd in
To Henault's vaults or Celia's chamber,
As ftraw and paper are by amber.
If we fit down to play or fet,
(Suppofe at Ombre or Baffet)
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 stander-by.
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