To-morrow? our Hero reply'd in a Fright:
He that's hang'd before Noon, ought to think of To-night. Tell your Beads, quoth the Prieft, and be fairly trufs'd up: For You furely To-night fhall in PARADISE Sup.
Alas! quoth the 'Squire, howe'er fumptuous the Treat, Parblew, I fhall have little Stomach to Eat:
I should therefore efteem it great Favor, and Grace;
Wou'd You be fo kind, as to go in my Place.
Derry down, &c.
That I would, quoth the Father, and thank you to boot; But our Actions, You know, with our Duty must suit. The Feast, I propos'd to You, I cannot taste:
For this Night, by our Order, is mark'd for a Faft.
Derry down, &c.
Then turning about to the Hangman, He faid;
Difpatch me, I pr'ythee, this troublesome Blade:
For Thy Cord, and My Cord both equally tie;
And We Live by the Gold, for which other Men Dye.
Stet quicunque volet potens
Aula culmine lubrico, &c.
INTERR'D beneath this Marble Stone,
Lie Saunt'ring JACK, and Idle JOAN.
While rolling Threefcore Years and One
Did round this Globe their Courses run;
If Human Things went Ill or Well;
If changing Empires rofe or fell;
The Morning paft, the Evening came,
And found this Couple ftill the fame.
They Walk'd and Eat, good Folks: What then?
Why then They Walk'd and Eat again:
They foundly flept the Night away:
They did juft Nothing all the Day:
And having bury'd Children Four,
Wou'd not take Pains to try for more.
Nor Sifter either had, nor Brother;
They feem'd juft Tally'd for each other.
Their Moral and Oeconomy
Moft perfectly They made agree:
Each Virtue kept it's proper Bound,
Nor Trefpafs'd on the other's Ground.
Nor Fame, nor Cenfure They regarded:
They neither Punish'd, nor Rewarded.
He car'd not what the Footmen did:
Her Maids She neither prais'd, nor chid:
So ev'ry Servant took his Course;
And bad at First, They all grew worse.
Slothful Disorder fill'd His Stable;
And fluttish Plenty deck'd Her Table.
Their Beer was ftrong; Their Wine was Port;
Their Meal was large; Their Grace was short.
They gave the Poor the Remnant-meat,
Juft when it grew not fit to eat.
They paid the Church and Parish Rate; 'And took, but read not the Receit:
For which They claim'd their Sunday's Due,
Of flumb'ring in an upper Pew.
No Man's Defects fought They to know;
So never made Themselves a Foe.
No Man's good Deeds did They commend;,
So never rais'd Themselves a Friend.
Nor cherish'd They Relations poor:
That might decrease Their present Store::
Nor Barn nor Houfe did they repair :
That might oblige Their future Heir.
They neither Added, nor Confounded:
They neither Wanted, nor Abounded..
Each Christmas They Accompts did clear;
And wound their Bottom round the Year..
Nor Tear, nor Smile did They imploy
At News of Publick Grief, or Joy.
When Bells were Rung, and Bonfires made;
If ask'd, They ne'er deny'd their Aid:
Their Jugg was to the Ringers carry'd;
Who ever either Dy'd, or Marry'd.
Their Billet at the Fire was found;
Who ever was Depos'd, or Crown'd.
Nor Good, nor Bad, nor Fools, nor Wife; They wou'd not learn, nor cou'd advise: Without Love, Hatred, Joy, or Fear,
a kind of- -as it were:
Nor Wish'd, nor Car'd, nor Laugh'd, nor Cry'd
And fo They liv'd; and fo They dy❜d.
HORACE Lib. I. Epist. IX.
Septimius, Claudi, nimirum intelligit unus,
Quanti me facias: &c.
HARLEY.
DEAR DICK, how c'er it comes into his Head,
Believes, as firmly as He does his Creed,
That You and I, SIR, are extremely great;
Tho' I plain MAT; You Minifter of State.
One Word from Me, without all doubt, He says,
Wou'd fix his Fortune in fome little Place.
Thus better than My felf, it feems, He knows
How far my Intereft with my Patron goes s
And answering all Objections I can make,
Still plunges deeper in his dear Mistake.
From this wild Fancy, SIR, there may proceed
One wilder yet, which I forefee, and dread;
That I, in Fact, a real Intereft have,
Which to my own Advantage I wou'd fave,
And, with the ufual Courtier's Trick, intend
To ferve My felf, forgetful of my Friend.
To fhun this Cenfure, I all Shame lay by ;
And make my Reafon with his Will comply;
Hoping, for my Excufe, 'twill be confest,
That of two Evils I have chose the leaft.
So, SIR, with this Epiftolary Scroll,
Receive the Partner of my inmoft Soul:
Him you will find in Letters, and in Laws
Not unexpert, firm to his Country's Caufe,
Warm in the Glorious Interest You purfue,
And, in one Word, a Good Man and a True.
IN one great Now, Superior to an Age,
The full Extremes of Nature's Force We find:
How Heav'nly Virtue can exalt; or Rage
Infernal, how degrade the Human Mind.
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